Punting from the Wrong End of the Boat

Yesterday afternoon, I went punting in Cambridge for the first time with other Darwin "freshers," plus stowaway Nick. There was me, Nick, Lawrence-from-Germany, Noa-from-Israel, Alexander-from-Albania, and Stijn-from-Belgium, who also happens to be the owner of the palace-room below mine in the Malting House (still haven't gotten over that one...).

As we were getting in the punts, our "Admiral of the Punts," a Darwin student, was reassuring the more nervous-looking freshers that "it's really really hard to sink a punt." (Famous last words -- the first punt-sinking I experienced at Oxford was truly accidental.) He went on to say that it takes five people pushing down hard on one side of the punt for it to start sinking (Nick scoffed at this one -- "I've sunk one all by myself, alone in the punt!") and saying that it really only happened with drunk people around in eighth week (Nick didn't disagree with this one). The freshers who didn't see Nick and I snickering at each other were duly reassured.

Things started off quite peacefully. Lawrence-from-Germany had spent a month in Cambridge once previously, and seemed to have really gotten the hang of punting much better than I did during my whole year in Oxford. Eventually he let Stijn take over, and Stijn got the idea immediately, too. Then, it was poor Alexander-from-Albania's turn. It took Alexander a while to figure out how to not punt us around in circles. Eventually, though, he more-or-less started to send us in a straight line, and things went more-or-less smoothly.

But then, the punt pole got just a little bit stuck. Now, everyone in the punt had already been warned that if the pole gets stuck you should just let go (apparently Lawrence once already had issues with this in the past and had learned the hard way). However, Alexander held on for just a split second too long, and SPLASH! Whoopsie.

He was pretty much okay, and a better sport than I would have been about it. He even chose to ride back in the punt rather than walking back to Darwin, which would have been faster (although it's also quite possible that he just didn't know how to get back to Darwin on foot). At that point, Nick took over the punting and took us all the way back. Noa-from-Israel didn't have much enthusiasm for trying it after Alexander's mishap, and I'm personally much better at sitting in the punt and giving know-it-all instructions to everyone rather than actually punting myself.

A few comparisons between Oxford and Cambridge punting: the punting at Cambridge feels a lot more "urban" than the Oxford punting, since basically everyone on the river is punting up and down a relatively short section of the River Cam along the backs of some of the big Cambridge colleges. There were times where I saw about four or five punts all right next to each other in the river. There are plenty more collisions and bottlenecks, as well, but they don't seem to disturb anyone. While the crowds provide a steering challenge for punters, the physical difficulties of punting are easier at Cambridge, since the river has a more solid bottom and is generally less deep than the Oxford one. Additionally, there are many more tourists taking pictures from the many bridges that cross the river, so if you do something dramatic (like fall in) you're sure to generate much more attention than in Oxford. At Oxford, you can go to generally out-of-the-way areas to practice going down weirs, sinking, bridge-climbing, or fitting a million people in the punt -- at Cambridge, everything you do is front-and-center and you can't get away with too much. Also, punting itself is more of a tourist attraction in Cambridge, so there are many more commercial punts on the river with bored-looking guides who expertly navigate the punt pile-ups.

And, of course, Oxford and Cambridge punt from opposite ends of the boat.