Dragon Boat

The 2004 Philadelphia Dragon Boat Festival
October 9, 2004 -- Philadelphia, PA

We all walked down to the staging area in our own spaces, trying hard to close out all the distractions, sounds, and unessential details that were rushing up all around us. In about 20 minutes, our season would be decided in a matter of seconds. The desire to hurry up and get it overwith was crashing head-on into the equally strong desire to make it all last just a little bit longer; the paradox that any athlete faces when coming face-to-face with a moment they've been working and waiting for long enough.

"They're going to come out aggressively, and you have to be right with them. If you lose them at the start, you aren't going to come over their wakes."

You take 22 people. You give 20 of them a paddle. You ask one to play a drum to keep it all together, and you ask one to steer to keep those who can't look up headed in a straight line. You put them all in one boat. You line them up next to seven other boats filled the same way. You put a line on the water 500 meters away.

Whomever gets there first wins.

That's Dragon Boat Racing.

The first race we'd had in the morning preliminaries was a shocker. In the 2003 Pharmaceutical Cup Race, Wyeth had won by nine seconds and gone on to race in the "A" Final on the day, finishing 4th overall in the Festival out of 85 boats - quite the accomplishment for a corporate team. All year there was talk about how other boats in the Pharma division were going to come after us; GSK had entered THREE boats. We knew it was going to be hard - we were racing with targets on our backs for sure.

When that race started we made a shambles of it (actually, everyone did - the starter didn't use the traditional three command Dragon Boat start of, "Ready All, Attention, GO!" but simply said, "Ready?" and hit the horn); After the first two or three rushed pulls we'd left the docks in 7th place, dead last. Fear and adrenaline make for great fuel, though. At around the 300 meter mark, it got very quiet around us. I knew that was either a very good or very bad thing - the silence stayed with us to the end. We won the Pharma race this time with a 2:07 - GSK came up second in 2:19. Our time there would end up placing us third overall in the morning preliminaries - which meant we'd be racing in the "A" division the rest of the day.

In the semi-final we ended up near the lead again, racing head-to-head with the Philadelphia Police Department boat. We had a good start and managed to stay with them to around 250 meters, but they pulled away steadily from there to win the "A" semifinal by half a boat length. When it came time to settle, they just had more power than we did. We'd paddled hard to take second place; we'd raced to a 2:08 to back up our morning prelim time, and now we were assured a berth in the "A" final - the last race of the day - race 39 of 39.

A Dragon Boat Festival is great fun to watch, but divine torture to race. You'll spend 8 hours on the shore waiting for your 6 minutes of race time (in three, two-minute heats). That means between races you have plenty of time to watch other boats, eat, sit, watch other boats, sit, watch other boats, and to think. To think about the training you've done. To think about all the things that will make you better the next time you're in the boat. To think about all the things that could go wrong...and to know that if it does go wrong, there won't be time to fix it in a race this short. You try to think of positive things - you try and ignore the negative thoughts.

When I'd started training for the festival, I knew that eventually the entire season would come down to one moment in one race, and that moment was drawing close. At our last pre-race meeting of the day, Chris made the final call on seats and told us where we'd all be. It was a tough job - I didn't envy his position as a coach. He had to tell some folks they wouldn't be paddling in the final, and even though everyone was gracious about it, it had to be hard. When we first met as a team he asked us, "Do you want to have fun with this, or do you want to try and be a fast boat?"

We'd chosen the latter, and as he read off the seat assignments...we all tried to remember that we were getting what we'd asked for. From the 26 people present, Chris put together the best 20-seat boat he could. Now it was time to see what we could do.

We took the walk down to the marshalling area for the third and last time. The early morning chatter between teams in the Prelims and Finals was much more subdued this time - everyone in the Final was experienced. The two top seeds (The Philadelphia Youth Team and Philadelphia Police Department Boats) were BEYOND experienced. For the Final, the Philly Youth Boat added the extra horsepower of experence in the form of 6 paddlers from the men's and women's National team who would be leaving for the World Championships in China one week after Philly.

As if that wasn't enough, one of the men in the youth boat had placed in the top 5 at the 2004 Olympic Rowing Trials, and one of the women in that boat was a former Olympic silver medalist in rowing.

The Police boat added 4 seats (all Police Employees) who were part of the National Championship team and would head to China with the Men's team. All of these changes were perfectly legal, within the rules, and normal for a regatta - you look at your roster, and put your best boat in the Final.

So there we were; A collection of 20 validation editors, compliance auditors, executives, researchers, admin assistants, security personnel, nurses, doctors, fitness center trainers, and the occasional IT geek, getting ready to give it the best that we could against everyone else in the "A" Final. Two boats stacked with paddlers in peak form who'd practiced from May through October, and 5 others boats that had all paddled under 2:10 to make it to the Final.

Waiting in the chute I closed my eyes. I thought about all the work we had done as a team. I stopped talking (which I'd later find out, scared some of my teammates who'd never heard me actually be quiet for more than 15 seconds in a row) to bring all my energy inward. Coming from a triathlon background where the entire race falls upon one's shoulders, I took newfound comfort in the team. I had complete trust in them - I knew we were all ready. I'd always thought that if I ever raced on a team, I'd be a nervous wreck worrying about what everyone else was going to do, but not here - not today.

I found quiet peace in the minutes before the start; knowing I was going to give it everything I had left, and they were all going to do the same. Win or lose, I knew nobody was going to leave anything behind - I could feel it.

We were called to the dock, got in our seats (I had 7-R, same seat all day), and pushed off for one last time. There was no talking in the boat, aside from Vikki (our drummer through practice and all the heats today), and Billy, our steerer. They both had years of experience, and working with Coach Chris (who'd been racing Dragon Boats forever), they allowed us to focus on what we had to do without thinking about anything else.

"Focus in the boat." Vikki reminded us. "There's nobody else out there. Don't even look at them." Billy spoke from aft, "Listen to Vikki - listen to me. You guys are going to be great. You're so ready for this."

As we paddled towards the starting docks, my whole body was shaking. I wasn't cold - I wasn't chilled, I was just dying to go. All of us were stretched to our limit from the 3-hour wait from the Semi-Final to now, and you could taste the electricity and adrenaline flowing in the boat. We did one practice start to blow the nerves and the muscles open...and then there was no time left to worry.

Billy turned the boat towards Dock #3 as Vikki called out, "Let it run!", the command to rest our paddles on the gunwale and let the boat glide. Without a single correction or request for any paddling, Billy guided us right in to where we needed to be. With just the sound of little ripples lapping at our boat echoing from the bridge deck above, we glided under the Strawberry Mansion Bridge for the last time, and into our held dock in Lane 3.

"Relax guys - relax. BREATHE. This will all be over in 3 minutes." Billy reminded us. He'd been here a thousand times before - he knew what to say to keep us right there. The starter tried to get everyone in place as we waited. I held my paddle tight and closed my eyes. I thought about all the things Chris had reminded us to do. I thought of Alan Shepard's prayer on the launchpad in "The Right Stuff", and thought it was a pretty good time for it.

The magic words: All eight boats were in their docks. There was absolute silence. I felt my heart beating hard enough to rattle the zipper on my vest. There was no other sound. Everyone focused on the starter and her every word.

At the same time across all eight boats, 160 paddles snapped to the air. Like everyone else, my eyes locked onto the blade ahead. For the next 127 seconds, the paddle of Louis P. Woloszyn in seat 6-R would be the beginning and end of my entire world. I would do what he did WHEN he did, and think of nothing else but matching his every move.

Time stopped. The next word from the starter would free us all from waiting. Life was now incredibly simple for us; all we had to do was be faster than we'd been all year.

From the silence of the wait came the emotion-fueled explosion the Philadelphia Dragon Boat Festival had taken 38 races to build. 160 paddles tore into the water, and created rapids from still water in seconds. The sound echoed from the bridge above, and carried up the river to let everyone within earshot know that it was ON.

"PICK IT UP! PICK IT UP! GO! GO! GO! GO! GO!" Billy was steering, but he was also our cheerleader. As a paddler, you don't look outside the boat when you're racing - you can't. You focus on the blade before you and match its every move - that's your job. You listen to your drummer - you listen to your steerer, and you listen to everyone else around you.

"20!" Almost through the start...there was noise all around us: We were hanging on, and Billy let us know - "You're there - YOU'RE RIGHT THERE! STAY WITH THEM!"

Through the start, and now into the settle. We had pulled to the best start of our season, and now we were head to head to head to head to head to head with everyone who mattered in the Final. We didn't know it, but 1st place to 6th place was a matter of two feet at this point.

I kept my eyes on Lou's paddle, and just reached with everything I had. Each pull, each twist, thinking the same thing: "Bury - suffer! Bury - suffer!" A cadence to remind myself to bury the blade in the water, and then suffer the pain of taking the hardest pull I could. I'd remembered thinking at our first meeting, "The races are only two minutes? How hard can that be?"

Somewhere in there, I remember catching a wave, losing my recovery stroke, and hearing the handle slam into my head, but then getting right back with Lou before the splash from my only bad pull of the day still hadn't finished landing around me. I was on autopilot - everyone was.

The suffering in the boat was at its highest, and we all hung in there as one. I kept reaching and twisting for as much water as I could, and so was everyone else. We were unaware of just how close we really were...but aware that Billy and Vikki must be seeing something good going on - they're voices kept getting louder, and higher...

"I need a seat!" meant we were one seat back from whomever we were racing - about a foot. A drummer seat is the same on all boats, so all Vikki had to do was look to see where someone else was compared to herself, and let us know. All 8 drummers were trying to keep their boats together, and look up whenever they could to see where they were.

On top of Billy and Vikki and the sounds of the blades there was a roar following us down the river - I'd later figure out that it was a crowd of over 1,000 paddlers from the other races that were coming to their feet on Kelly Drive because in this final, there were six boats headed for the line with less than a second between them...now with less than a football field to decide it all.

My breathing was now nothing more than desperate heaves on each stroke. There was spray in all directions from the headwind we'd been paddling into, with the race now down to who would have enough left in the last meters. Everyone was dying - every single seat on our boat was giving it up - there was no tomorrow, there was no next week.

Billy was now pretty much swearing and yelling without taking a breath. My memories of those last meters are one of Billy yelling how close we were, counter-punched by Vikki screaming herself hoarse trying to keep our sprint together. Beside us 5 other boats were doing the same thing at the same time, creating a sound made from pure pain, adrenaline, effort and pride...without a single trace of surrender.

It was over. We crossed the line...but nobody paddled right away. We couldn't. Maybe Chris could, but that's because he's the coach and feels no pain. I couldn't even see straight. I leaned my paddle on the gunwale, and leaned forward into Lou's back. Lou did the same, as did Denise next to me. Everyone was listing in different directions - and looking around - and breathing.

As we paddled back towards the crowd for our return along Kelly Drive to the dock, it really didn't matter. We hadn't screwed up. We hadn't missed it. We'd given everything to make the final, and then left it all on the water...and the people along the river let us know. Everyone was standing, cheering, clapping, and letting all 8 boats know that we'd given them the best show of the day.

I don't remember when or how the official word came down - I just remember hearing Billy yell, and watching Vikki's face light up as she looked aft at Billy. The Little Dragon Boat that could, did. Out of 82 boats, against teams that should have left us at the dock, we'd delivered the race of our year when we had to.

Philadelphia Youth Team 2:07.01 1
Philadelphia Police Team 2:07.31 2
WYETH WYVERNS          2:07.69 3
Steel City Dragons          2:08.03 4
Mainline Health               2:08.43 5
GSK’s Draggin                 2:08.97 6
Fairmount Park Commodores 2:09.69 7
EwingCole Waves                 2:14.86 8

First place to second - 0.30 seconds.

Second place to third - 0.38 seconds.

Third place to fourth - 0.34 seconds.

Fourth place to fifth - 0.40 seconds.

Fifth place to sixth - 0.52 seconds.

Sixth place to seventh - 0.70 seconds.

First to Third - 0.68 seconds.

First to Sixth - 1.96 seconds.

I may never know what it's like to run into an Olympic Stadium, or pile onto a pitcher that has won a World Series, but what I felt as we paddled back to the dock was as close as I might ever get. As we passed all the tents from other teams, they all lined the waterfront to give all eight boats a standing ovation. Vikki knew the moment was something special for us, and when we passed our tent with all our friends and family, she ordered a "Paddles Up!" salute; 20 blades reached for the sky, and probably just a little bit higher.