The Raft Race

by William Johnson-Ferguson (C21)

This year’s annual Raft Race was, of course, won by St Cuthbert’s. The following is my own recount of its happenings.

Cold. Tired. Hungry. Sore. A whole manner of words can be used to describe how you feel after the walk down to the lakes, but those are just a choice few. The scene upon arrival was one of chaos. Life-vests lay strewn across the muddy ground, and Mr Anglim could be heard shouting safety brief and Mr Connor tossing helmets at those stumbling around in his vicinity.

The raft was being assembled and those who had been ‘selected’ to mount the driftwood were preparing themselves. I was lucky enough to not be on the raft this year and once I had finished contemplating my own good fortune, the raft was finished, and was being propelled towards the lake’s entry point. The small matter of whether it was ready, or unready, to bear its charge, would soon reveal itself. There was a large splash as the raft fell hard into the water, and then began tilting upwards at an alarming angle, but this was quickly reconciled by the raft’s team of composers (Mieszko proving his utility to the House in an act of consummate bravery). Following this, another even larger - and louder - splash was heard as the first raft crew entered the fray, scaled the barrels attached to the logs, and set about starting the gruelling paddle towards the centre of the lake.

We watched as our compatriots surged through the frothing, murky water of the lakes, pushed on by what I would love to label their sheer drive to win, but what was in fact their manically screaming Housemaster, whose voice resembled a jet engine. He too, like the water surrounding them, was frothing around the mouth.

The cacophony of support on the banks of the lake had reached a dissonant crescendo, with the amphibious plankof-wood having rounded the buoy in the middle of the lake. Our boys embarked on their journey back, and those who were boarding the second raft began their own preparation. The noise grew louder, and a glimmer of hope that we might actually win, began to shine through.

The raft race is really good fun. It’s definitely a high point of the year; in terms of House competitions, it’s one of the best. It provides a real sense of belonging, especially to those who are new to the school, new to the House, or even just to those who haven’t yet settled into the swing of the autumn term. The annual raft race is a great opportunity to feel closer to those around you following a long summer holiday - it will be one of the many things I’ll miss about life at Ampleforth College.