Light winds ruffled the water at North Harbor in Vergennes on a hot summer evening. Nineteen rowers set off in three wooden boats, undeterred by a few waves and intense humidity. They arranged their heavy oars and adjusted their foot braces, ready for their weekly three-mile expedition across Lake Champlain to New York.
But storm clouds were brewing over the Adirondacks. The winds picked up, spawning whitecaps that shot from the lake’s surface and splashed into the boats. In the skiff Valkyrie, rower Carole Oglesby’s hat blew off. Easy oar strokes turned strenuous, and the creaking of wood and crashing of water drowned out instructions shouted by the coxswains, the navigators seated at the helm of each boat.
“Normally, [rowing] is pretty meditative,” said Oglesby of Shelburne, securing her orange baseball cap back on her head. “But I wouldn’t call this meditative.”
The small fleet abandoned its practice, turning back to avoid the hard rain that pelted down only minutes later. But not one of the rowers reached for the life jackets by their feet, knowing that their boats were built for even rougher seas.
The craft sliding across the stormy lake were modern four- and six-seat skiffs and gigs, boats based on historic vessels first built centuries ago in the British Isles to handle the force of ocean waves. On Lake Champlain, they’re rowed by members of several adult clubs using boats built at the Lake Champlain Maritime Museum in Vergennes.
The Tuesday night practices are for the Rowing for Fitness club, some of whose members also belong to the other two clubs: Burlington Rows!, which launches the museum’s boats from Perkins Pier on Wednesdays, and the Community Rowing Club, which rows in Vergennes on Thursdays. Some experience is recommended before joining Rowing for Fitness, but the other two clubs are open to beginners. While there is a full-season membership fee of $175 to join one club and $250 for all three, the museum offers a pay-what-you-can option and a free trial row.
Corinthia Richards helped build one of the pilot gigs at the museum about 20 years ago. After moving away from and then back to Vermont, she spotted a picture of the boat she helped build on the museum’s website in 2020. She decided to join the club and row that very same boat. A Waitsfield resident, she drives an hour each way several times a week because she finds the practice therapeutic.
“It’s this noise that the oar makes when it rocks back and forth between your tholepins,” Richards said. Sometimes, she added, the rowers practice with their eyes closed. “That’s amazing, because then it just alters which of your senses you’re actually using.”
“It’s pretty cool, the connection with the past.” Ray Prendergast
For other club members, the boats’ history is a draw. Unlike light, speedy racing shells that slice through water, the club’s skiffs and gigs are designed for historical accuracy and security.
“You can launch [a skiff or a gig] from the beach, go through the waves, go out and rescue people, and come back in it,” said Ray Prendergast of Addison. Prendergast has been rowing the boats with his wife, Tamzen Chapman, for almost three years. “It’s pretty cool, the connection with the past and the fact that they’re so seaworthy.”
Andrew Rainville of Hinesburg, one of the team captains, noted that skiffs were vessels “that a group of people in a community could build and then turn around and row in without it being a huge production.”
Valkyrie, for example, is a four-person St. Ayles skiff, a contemporary version of the traditional Fair Isle skiffs of Scotland, open fishing boats designed to handle the tumultuous seas around the Shetland Islands. Rainville said he has never seen one flip — at least, not by accident. Skiffs are pointed on both ends, but gigs have a flat stern. While similarly secure, gigs are faster in wavy conditions.
While some members of Rowing for Fitness say they do it for the sense of community and fun rather than winning races, the team’s two-hour Tuesday practices prepare them to compete against other New England teams. Their competitors also row skiffs and gigs but often modify their boats for speed. That’s not this crew’s style.
The Vermonters meet their true peers once every three years when they travel to Europe to compete in the SkiffieWorlds, a championship for rowers of authentic, four-person St. Ayles skiffs. In July, 17 Rowing for Fitness members raced in the competition in Stranraer, Scotland.
They placed 55th out of 78 teams. While they don’t shy away from competition, Rainville said, attending the race is about community within their own team and among the rowers from around the world who share a niche passion for sturdy ships.
“It was, in some ways, a big party with a rowing focus,” Rainville said. “It was just a really great time to be there with everyone and celebrate being on the water.”
One week after their wavy adventure, the Tuesday night rowers reboarded their boats to meet the calm waters they’re used to. Rainville instructed his crew — audibly, this time — from the coxswain seat of a four-person gig.
“Sit ready,” he called from behind his dark sunglasses, and the rowers straightened, turning their bodies toward him. “Ready all,” he continued, and they leaned forward, their wooden oars hovering just above the water’s surface. “And … row,” he commanded. They lowered the oars, commencing their pulling motion away from the dock.
Although the wooden oars are a challenge to control, maintaining command of them is the only way to pick up speed. It’s important to stay in sync with the other rowers, aiming to match the one who’s sitting closest to the coxswain. The rowers face away from the direction they are going, necessitating Rainville’s exacting commands — he is the only one who can see where the boat is headed.
“Starboard, let it run,” Rainville called to initiate a turnaround. The two rowers with oars hanging from the right side of the boat abruptly paused their strokes. “Port side, keep going,” Rainville said. The rowers with left-side oars continued to pull, completing the rotation.
After about three miles of steady rowing across one of the narrow parts of the lake known as a “keyhole,” the small fleet reached Barn Rock in New York. The rowers continued north to the Palisades, a set of rocky cliffs that tower above the water, and paused to squint up at the sky in search of something familiar. Sure enough, the screech of peregrine falcons echoed from above, their nests visible amid the tree branches poking from the stone.
At Snake Den Harbor farther north, the rowers often spy a bald eagle. Each October, the group embarks on a nighttime row, taking five or six boats across the lake to start a campfire and catch the full moon. It’s a treasured tradition for the club’s longtime members.
But this practice was no leisurely bird-watch, though the evening’s beauty could have called for it. With the SkiffieWorlds only a few days away and the previous week’s weather mishap, Rainville was determined to keep his team on track.
“Heads up, chest out, breathing deep,” he called to his crew as its members rocked forward and backward. “Add in some strength again … Grab that water. Send it to me.”
The rowers in Rainville’s boat gazed at the Vermont skyline, identifying the tallest peaks and swapping rowing and racing stories. They pointed to Diamond Island, a dot of land still farther north.
Sometimes, they commit to rowing all the way there, adding an extra three miles to their journey. But on this night, they weren’t feeling that ambitious.
“It’s a lot farther than it looks,” Rainville said, and the rowers facing him laughed knowingly and pointed their boat back to the dock.
The original print version of this article was headlined “Different Strokes | In historically accurate boats, Lake Champlain Maritime Museum rowing clubs share a niche passion”
This article appears in Aug 6-12, 2025.
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