My three-day immersion into rowing started with a video on how to get back into the skinny boat if you capsize. I paid close attention. I knew it was only a matter of time until I was upside down in the water.

The course is run by a husband-and-wife team — Charlotte Hollings and John Dunn. In 2001, the couple started Calm Waters Rowing, a combination bed-and-breakfast and rowing school in Lancaster (about an hour and 45 minutes northeast of Richmond). Charlotte and John have each rowed for more than 30 years, coached at Cornell University and competed in the World Championships for the U.S. National Team, winning numerous medals — John taking a silver in 1975 and Charlotte the gold in 1994.

After watching the video of Charlotte systematically re-entering the rowing shell, we wasted no time and boarded a small bus to the school’s private lake. The group included me; my wife, Karen; a family of four from Chicago; a couple from New Jersey; and our instructors. The Jersey couple and the Chicago parents had all rowed for years. Karen, me and the kids were newbies. The different levels of experience didn’t matter. Charlotte and John have a unique ground-up approach to the sport. 

There are two types of rowing: sweep and sculling. Sweeping is like, well, sweeping with a broom. Both hands are on one oar while performing a stroke. Thus, at least two people are needed, one having an oar on each side of the boat — the sport is broken down into pairs, quads and eights. In sculling, the rower has an oar in each hand, and the work is performed by singles, doubles and quads. This weekend course focused on individual sculling. 

We arrived at the lake and carried the boats down to the dock. The kids, Karen and I each got nice, fat beginner boats. Charlotte hopped into a much more slender craft and began with a review of the stroke. It consists of four parts. The “catch,” where the blade enters the water, is first. This is followed by the “drive” through the water and the “finish,” where the blade lifts out of the water. The final part isn’t the finish, it’s the “recovery,” where the oar is returned to the starting point. The sport has many other confusing terms. The most perplexing part is that the rowing shell is labeled like other boats: port, starboard, stern and bow. However, you sit backward facing the stern on a sliding seat, meaning that the port side is now on your right. For a lefty like me, who’s already a little directionally dyslexic, I knew this might be a problem. Fortunately, the oars were marked with red and green indicators — red for right. That I could handle.

John assisted us into our boats and pushed us off the dock. At first we newbies just floundered around with these odd things in our hands and our butts sliding back and forth while not really going anywhere. The more experienced rowers slipped away easily. Charlotte reminded me to take it slow. And after a few strokes, I was moving along — off course, aiming right for the shoreline. John yelled out to turn. I stopped and performed a reverse stroke with one oar, almost tipping over. Rowing shells aren’t designed for steering.

We spent the next hour rowing and concentrating on the basics as Charlotte and John boated over to each student to offer tips and corrections. I was having a blast and enjoying the rhythmic motion of cutting through the water on a bright sunny afternoon. And I wasn’t ready to quit when John told us to head back to the dock. The school’s motto is “Row, eat, row, eat, row, eat, sleep.” The first day includes an afternoon row and then dinner. The next two days each have three rows, and on the final day there’s a morning row. The course is all-inclusive with accommodations and meals, plus wine and beer. 

We returned to the charming Inn at Levelfields, built in 1859, cleaned up and enjoyed a wonderful dinner, fine wine and dessert. Then it was time for a video. Videos are a key part of the instruction to demonstrate the different portions of the stroke. Old-school rowing uses a flat-back lean at the end of the drive, followed by pushing the hands away. John and Charlotte teach rolling back with your abs and not worrying about forcing your arms forward on the recovery. A video of the women’s single Olympics finals demonstrated the effectiveness and ease of this form. Then it was time for sleep — but not before another glass of wine. All the rooms are well-appointed with antiques, the upstairs rooms have high ceilings and all of the beds are very high — Karen had to use a little stool to get on and off ours.    

We regrouped at 7 a.m., a rather civilized time for rowing, considering most rowers are out on the water before sunrise to avoid boat traffic. (The joys of a private lake!) Charlotte focused our lesson on the grip — it should be light so that the fingers, not the wrists, rotate the blade out of the water at the finish. Hands should be nested left in front of right. Many rowers learn a tight grip, with hands stacked one on top of the other. It took a while to get used to not over-gripping the oar, but it eventually clicked, and my hands relaxed, making the drive easier. 

“Pull the boat, ride the boat,” John repeatedly told me. After breakfast, John demonstrated the rolling back motion, and I moved up to a skinnier intermediate boat. The thinner boat moved much faster. And years of Pilates paid off in an unexpected way. I was a natural at rolling back to drive. I’ve never been a natural at anything. I flew across the top of the water — almost as fast as the experienced guests in their advanced super-slim boats. And then I looked over my shoulder. TREE!!!! I was headed straight for a large fallen tree in the water. I slammed the oar blades into the water and came to a dead stop only inches away from one of the branches. Whew.

Steering and backing the boat away was exponentially more difficult in the intermediate boat. Finally clear of the gnarly beast, I slid the left oar forward to spin the boat around. And it spun around the horizontal axis instead of the vertical axis — dumping me in the water. After a couple of hours exercising under the hot sun, the cool water felt great. I hung onto the side of the boat and recalled the re-entry video. Grab both oar grips in one hand, level the boat out, and push up and over like climbing out of a swimming pool while swiveling the hips. It worked. Then Karen, my wife, glided by me and laughed. OK, not a natural. But not bad for only my third rowing lesson. With five more to go, I could only get better. 

I started up again, floating atop the water while my new mantra lingered just below the surface of conscious thought: “Push the boat, ride the boat. Push the boat, ride the boat. Row, eat, row, eat, row, eat, sleep.”

Tip Sheet: Calm Waters
For more information about Calm Waters, call (800) 238-5578 or visit calmwatersrowing.com. Rates for a three-day, all-inclusive weekend start at around $750 in September and October.