Spend enough time around GCMR and you'll eventually realise rowers have developed a language entirely of their own. To us, phrases like “hands on”, “let it run”, “easy oar” and “catching a crab” are perfectly normal. To partners, friends, family and innocent bystanders at the lake, however, a morning at the rowing club can sound increasingly bizarre.

So, for anyone who has spent years politely nodding while having absolutely no idea what we're talking about, here's our handy Rowing to English translation guide.

“Hands on!”

What a non-rower hears:
Some sort of motivational team-building exercise.
What it actually means:
Stop whatever you're doing and grab the boat. Usually immediately.
What the rower really means:
Why am I already holding this while everyone else is still talking?

“Just a light paddle”

What a non-rower hears:
A peaceful, relaxing trip around the lake. Perhaps we'll look at the lovely backyards of the houses on the lake.
What it actually means:
Nobody is planning to row particularly hard today.
What will actually happen:
Someone will suggest ten legs on. Someone else will increase the rating. Another crew will appear alongside. The light paddle is now a race.

“Let it run”

What a non-rower hears:
Release something into the wild.
What it actually means:
Stop rowing and allow the boat to glide.
What every rower is secretly doing:
Watching to see how far it runs and deciding whether that last piece was actually as good as it felt.

“Check your gate”

What a non-rower hears:
Someone appears to have left the paddock open.
What it actually means:
Make sure the gate on your oarlock is properly closed before we push off.
Why experienced rowers check anyway:
Because discovering it isn't secure once you're on the water is a considerably less relaxing way to start the morning (Many an experienced rower has failed to do this.)

“Sit the boat”

What a non-rower hears:
Apparently the boat has been badly behaved and needs a time-out.
What it actually means:
Keep the boat balanced.
What everyone immediately does:
Tries so hard to balance the boat that the boat becomes considerably less balanced.

“Square up”

What a non-rower hears:
Prepare for a fight.
What it actually means:
Turn your blade from the feathered position so it's ready to enter the water.
What happens when you don't do it early enough:
Things can get interesting remarkably quickly.

“Feather”

What a non-rower hears:
Something involving a bird.
What it actually means:
Turn the blade so it's parallel to the water during the recovery.
What experienced rowers make look ridiculously easy:
Exactly this.
What new rowers discover:
It isn't.

“You're rushing the slide”

What a non-rower hears:
There is apparently a waterslide somewhere and somebody is using it incorrectly.
What it actually means:
You're moving towards the catch too quickly.
What happens next:
You consciously slow down for approximately six strokes before forgetting again.

“Tap down”

What a non-rower hears:
Possibly a dance move.
What it actually means:
Push the handle down at the finish to extract the blade cleanly from the water.
What happens when it all goes wrong:
Which brings us neatly to…

“I caught a crab”

What a non-rower hears:
Congratulations! 🦀
What it actually means:
Your blade became trapped in the water and your rowing dignity disappeared shortly afterwards.
Possible outcomes include:
A minor wobble. A spectacular loss of rhythm. Being hit by your own oar. Or, in advanced cases, unexpectedly leaving the boat. Nobody will let you forget it.

“Bow pair only”

What a non-rower hears:
Two people should bow.
What it actually means:
Only the two rowers nearest the bow are rowing.
What the rest of the crew hears:
Excellent. A brief rest.

“Stroke pair”

What a non-rower hears:
Possibly some sort of medical emergency.
What it actually means:
The two rowers nearest the stern are doing the work.
What bow pair is thinking:
Your turn.

“Back it down”

What a non-rower hears:
Someone is being told to calm down.
What it actually means:
Use the blades to move the boat backwards.
What usually happens:
A brief moment where everybody has to remind themselves which way everything now needs to go.

“Ready… row”

What a non-rower hears:
Finally. A straightforward instruction.
What it actually means:
We're going now.
What inevitably happens:
Someone wasn't ready.

“Easy oar”

What a non-rower hears:
Relax. Take it easy.
What it actually means:
Stop rowing.
Important note for new rowers:
This does not mean continue rowing, but more gently. We've all been there.

“Lengthen out”

What a non-rower hears:
Grow taller.
What it actually means:
Take longer, more controlled strokes.
What Masters rowers hear:
Apparently we're still expected to be flexible.

“Ten legs on”

What a non-rower hears:
Ten strokes. How hard can that be?
What it actually means:
Ten strong, committed strokes together.
What sometimes happens around stroke eight:
Someone starts wondering whether the person counting has lost track.

“One more piece”

What a non-rower hears:
One more and then we're finished.
What an experienced rower hears:
This statement has absolutely no legal standing.

“Last one”

See above.

“Good water today”

What a non-rower hears:
The water quality has been tested and is satisfactory.
What a rower means:
DROP EVERYTHING. THE LAKE IS FLAT. WE MUST ROW IMMEDIATELY. Rowers can spend days discussing wind direction, water conditions and whether it's worth going out.
Then, when perfect conditions finally arrive, we behave as though we've personally been granted a gift from the rowing gods.

“That was a good row”

And finally, perhaps the highest compliment in the rowing vocabulary. It doesn't necessarily mean we were fast. It doesn't mean every stroke was perfect. It probably doesn't even mean nobody caught a crab. It simply means there were moments when everything clicked. The boat ran. The crew moved together. The water was good. And for a little while, rowing felt effortless. Which is why, despite the early mornings, aching muscles, questionable terminology and occasional spectacular crab, we keep coming back.

So next time you hear a group of GCMR members discussing crabs, catches, finishes, feathering, bow pairs and rushing the slide, don't worry. Nothing strange is happening. We're just speaking rowing.