Rowing the Atlantic ... as you do

While most of us panic when the loss of the TV remote control might mean having to actually get out of a comfortable chair during the course of an evening, we are told that sometime OC allrounder come ironman Richard Hume is planning, with a friend, to row the Atlantic Ocean in December 2009. That’s 2500 miles for those of us who suffered an education at Cranleigh.

For more details on the whole venture, plus details of who you can help Richard raise the £60,000 needed for this charitable jaunt, visit his excellent website at http://www.rowingtheatlantic.com/.

A win to end the tour

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The final match of the tour and the last chance for new but under-fire captain Eds Copleston to rescue his shredded reputation. The day started with a fascinating tour of one of South Africa’s biggest townships and from there moved on to the match. The intended venue at had, sadly, fallen victim to vandalism and looting and cricket there has all but died out. Nevertheless, we had an opposition, although our travelling support was issued with strict orders not to move from immediately in front of the pavilion … it seems the previous side had ignored this rule and had paid the price.

We batted first and yet again our top order failed to fire, proof if it were needed that combining excessive alcohol and no sleep is no way to prepare for a game. Matt Crump made 23 but it wasn’t until Damian Hill thumped 29 and with Alex Craven and Mike Roper making late runs, we were able to post 152 for 8. Tristan Rosenfeldt’s tour came to an end when he was hit on the finger, his you-can-get-gloves-cheaply-in-Mumbai equipment offering as much protection as a meringue. He departed muttering “when will bloody India stop haunting me” only to reappear with a comedy bandage on his hand, more befitting someone who had trapped his hand in a machine.

It seemed as if it would be four losses in four when we conceded 11 wides in the first five overs as the home side raced to 34 for 0. But then we suddenly found some bottle. Michael Chetwode restored some much-needed control and then part-time spinners Matt and Tom Crump and Alan Cope chipped away at the batting. There were still some glitches – Tom Crump managed an 11-ball over – and the odd dropped catch, but we still put ourselves in a winning position before some late jitters took the match almost to the wire. Cool heads prevailed and as the run-rate climbed, we grabbed the last two wickets and finally had our win on tour.

Presentations followed – we waited to see if Copleston would use the same “this is the most beautiful ground we have played at” speech but even he realised that would be too much – which included handing over more Alive and Kicking footballs. A detour at a township bar – where the “barmaid” served from behind a Fort Knox-like system of grills – followed before we headed home.

After a brief pit stop we headed to Newlands for the end-of-tour dinner in the chairman’s dining room. We took the group photo in the middle with Table Mountain in the background and headed inside. Within minutes we were back out on the square to have another group photo, this time including the Johnsons who, inevitably, were late. Not Rick’s fault. Obviously.

The dinner was followed by closing fines and awards. The batsman of the tour was Damian Hill, the bowler Michael Chetwode, the fielder Tom Merry, and the overall Man of the Tour Keith Crump, whose uncomplaining good humour and ability to ignore the worst excesses of his sons was an example to all.

A few late-tour arguments ended the evening, various pubs were visited and the last of the squad returned to the hotel at 10am, complete with lurid tales.

Naps and appalling fines

An early-morning jaunt up Table Mountain ended before it began after we woke to a grey day with low cloud. Everyone headed back for a powernap before rising two hours later to head to a wine-tasting session followed by a picnic lunch in the hills. We got back about 4pm for a second powernap and then possibly the most idiotic fines session of the six OC tours to date. Tristan Rosenfeldt looked to add some spice to proceedings by offering a Play-Your-Cards-Right twist. The idea was that the victim picked a card and guessed whether the next card is higher or lower … if they guessed right then they could pick someone else to drink their fine for them. While that sounded fine on paper, what Rosie figured without was that almost everyone would guess correctly, and that they would all hand the fine back to him to drink. In short, within 15 minutes Rosenburg was a gibbering, alcohol-fuelled wreck. While Rosie ranted and dribbled, everyone else headed out to the Waterfront for a meal which involved copious quantities of cocktails, and from there to an Irish pub where the tour wheels really came off in spectacular style. One senior tour member who is old enough to know better returned home in a police car, given a lift rather than under arrest after being found wandering the streets of Cape Town.

Three out of three

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By now under pressure after two defeats and with the resignation of another captain ringing in his ears, Eds Copleston promised changes and a new purpose for the game at Constantia Vitsig, a glorious little ground nestled in a vineyard. He even took those members of the XI who didn’t tell him where to stick it on a pre-match run. For 20 overs it seemed a corner had been turned only for us to run slap bang into a massive brick wall.

One problem was that despite the youth and size of the squad, injuries were taking their toll and so we went into the match with four front-line bowlers and only one able to take anything more than a four-pace run-up. After a rollicking start, the guile of Chetwode, Cope and Matt Crump (reduced to bowling spin because of a detaching toenail that belonged in a museum of horrors) reduced Constantia to 98 for 5 in the 19th over. All was well. Except Eds was left without any of the four to bowl the last seven overs. Putting his faith in Langmead and Hill was a bold move that didn’t quite work as those overs yielded 109 runs. Langmead 4-0-58-1, Hill 3-0-50-0. Gray, Constantia’s opener, made an excellent 129*including nine sixes, as they posted 268 for 8.

The talk at the break was of the need for a positive start, but we lost Rosenfeldt in the third over (although he did score his first run in five innings in South Africa) and by the end of the tenth over we were 30 for 3 with Cope and Matt Crump out. From then on it was only ever going to be a face-saving exercise. Copleston briefly sparked with 26, Gates played himself into some form with 25, Hill bludgeoned 30 and Langmead at the end made 38*, but it was another heavy defeat by 91 runs.

After fines and the passing of Dick of the Day to Hill for his bowling, we dined at one of South Africa’s best restaurants where we managed to behave. For about half an hour. The napkins were knotted, the wine flowed and Chetwode muttered “don’t any of you know how to behave in a real restaurant” more than once. We were joined by the Johnsons who had decamped to a luxury villa on the estate for the remainder of their tour, a move which was widely condemned in public and envied in private.

Sharks avoid the OCs

What the advertisers would have you believe was a once-in-a-lifetime shark-viewing experience was described by Keith Crump as “the worst day of my life”. The 4.30am start unsurprisingly accounted for a few casualties as some senior players opted out with lame excuses, but more than a dozen of the group headed out to sit in a cage and watch sharks at play. Gates’ now customary chunder (some say it was before the boat has left the harbour) failed to prove a tasty treat and not a shark was to be seen in the four-hour bobbing on the ocean waves. And it rained. And it was cold.

The seniors headed for the hills for a long and wine-fuelled lunch, enlivened by the Johnson-Watkinson old wives act as the hapless pair got hopelessly lost (the blame is still being discussed). The wine continued to flow through fines and beyond, with the senior pro (Chetwode) seeking to spark some old hostilities by covering the locals in beer. His wife, by now Dick of the Day, was quieter … mainly because she had passed out, making her an easy target for Copleston to write on as she slept.

A day to reflect

A quiet day to allow reflection on the previous 24 hours, spent by most of the party at the beach or enjoying a superb lunch at a waterfront restaurant where we were joined by Tom and Osha Hufton. Fines in the evening were relatively low key and the group went their own way.

Defeat under Table Mountain

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The second match of the tour took place at Western Province CC, a stunning ground situated under Table Mountain. The weather was glorious, and our hosts even went as far as handing us the toss on a plate (quite possibly the only thing Eds Copleston will win all tour). We started decently, Damian Hill’s idiosyncratic strokeplay contrasting and outscoring the more classy Alan Cope. Cope fell leg before to a Tom Merry instant decision, and thereafter we limped along, with only a stand of 63 for the fourth wicket between the Crumps enabling us to reach a half-decent total. The gamble of pushing the veterans Chetwode and Watkinson into the middle order to boost the scoring rate failed dismally. Copleston and Matt Crump scurried and swept at the end to help us reach moderate respectability.

Between innings we were treated to a sight never before seen at an OC match as Chetwode warmed up with some painful and horribly stiff contortions. No matter that he needed help to get up afterwards, it showed excellent intent.

Left to defend 160, we did make an early breakthrough when Watkinson won over the umpire with an obscenely long three-part screeching appeal. The ball was going down leg but no matter. It turned out to be our only success of the afternoon and our bowling was cut to ribbons and our fielding, increasing affected by sambuca Belgrano calls the previous night, became increasingly listless. WP Chairman’s XI romped home by nine wickets with almost eight overs to spare.

A marvellous barbeque followed, showing up Rick’s efforts in terms of quantity and also timeliness, and fines then took place against the backdrop of sun setting next to Table Mountain. Rick, to widespread acclaim, took the Dick of the Day tie. The journey home, past houses with ubiquitous razor-wired walls and promises that they were protected by armed response units, was enlivened by a karaoke session, the highlight in quality being Mike Roper, in entertainment Hill’s Suggerhill Gang rap.

The evening started full of promise but ended with the usual number of casualties. Despite warnings not to venture out after dark, Rick led the 4am walk home through the deserted streets to the hotel. Even the local thugs knew not to mess with a 5’4” puffball dressed in a hideous blazer.

The one unanswered question was the whereabouts of the nominated 12th man during the game. Rosenfeldt was missing at the start on an almost inevitable burger hunt, but then spent the remainder of the day telling everyone within earshot about his regular bowel movements. Any sympathy from neutrals soon evaporated when it transpired that his problems started in Lusaka when his desire for meat took him on a 45-minute cab ride which finished in two chicken burgers from a street vendor.

Finally cricket ,,, and a defeat

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More than a week after landing we finally took to the cricket field at the wonderful Van der Stel CC in Stellenbosch, surrounded by mountains and under a deep blue sky. We fielded and made a quick breakthrough when Matt Crump ripped out an off stump, and soon after Tom Merry scored a run-out with a direct hit, When Michael Chetwode had J Engelbrecht caught behind, the home side were 62 for 3 and we fancied our chances. But while we stuck to the task, Cape Cobra's contracted Sybrand Engelbrecht hit 89 to help boost his side to 228 for 7 off their 50 overs. Matt Crump was the most successful bowler with 3 for 36.

We lost Tom Crump to the fourth ball of the innings and Johnny Gates followed shortly after – from then on in only Matt Crump saved us from complete humiliation. He effortlessly stroked his way to 88 off 106 balls, including 12 fours, while all around fell to rash shots and reckless running. Eds Copleston led the headless charge, escaping a dropped catch only to leave himself high and dry as he tried for a resulting run that was never there. Aside from Crump, only 40 runs came off the bat. It really was that dismal.

Dinner was taken by all at Panama Jacks in the harbour in Cape Town and will be remembered not just by the touring party, but all those unlucky enough to be in the restaurant, for the performance of Jonny 'the bugler' Gates. After perhaps one too many Castle lagers he expelled what had gone in and there are flags on the ceiling and windows in the restaurant that will never, ever be the same again. It was quite remarkable - please ask anyone present for more details. Or perhaps don’t.

Balls and bye to the Falls

Before a day in transit with flights from Livingstone to Jo'burg and Jo'burg to Cape Town we handed over 30 of the Alive and Kicking footballs we had picked up in Lusaka to the head of social projects at our hotel. He was utterly utterly speechless and couldn't thank us enough. It was a very heart warming moment.

Into the abyss (almost)

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For the few who could haul themselves out of bed, breakfast was taken on Livingstone Island perched on the top of the Victoria Falls. Henderson, Gates, Merry R and Langmead ventured out into the river unpeturbed by the guide's insistence that swimming out to a plunge pool on the very edge of the Falls was for 'strong swimmers' only. The four had to put in a pretty serious shift of swimming against the current to reach the rock from which they jumped into the plunge pool. Health and Safety clearly hasn't reached Zambia yet as peering over the edge on the Falls with nothing to hold you back other than an underwater ledge was pretty punchy. On the return swim Henderson set the guides into panic by picking a bold across-current line and looking for all the world like he might disappear over the edge of the Falls! Fortunately all reached terra firma to tuck into New Year Eggs Benedict.

The rest of the day was spent in various stages of recovery, mainly by the pool where the only activity required was chasing away the blue testicled monkeys who repeatedly tried to steal things.

Ed Henderson and Tom Merry on fines were not going to let the previous night's excess deter them from handing out some interesting fines under the title 'Crime and Punishment'. They thought they would be considerate and, instead of handing out neat shots, they kindly produced such delicious drinks as gin and lung tonic (the main ingredient of the cough mixture being creosote) and gin and cream soda (the latter with a sell by date in the mid nineties).