Image credit: World Rowing
It’s hard to believe it’s coming up to two years since I retired from competitive rowing. Stepping away from something I loved and knew so well marked a significant life transition for me and was potentially one of the most difficult decisions I had ever made. For the first time, I have had the chance to slow down and reflect on my rowing career. It’s funny how time and distance can change one’s perspective on past events and reveal their importance. Looking back now, I can see a few defining moments, unknown to me at the time, that shaped my journey and led me to an Olympic gold and silver medal.
Let me take you back to one of these moments. It was early 2014, and I was in the New Zealand summer training squad after my first season in an elite crew—the New Zealand women’s eight, coached by the legendary Dick Tonks. I didn’t exactly take the world by storm in my debut season. Rewatching the video of my first World Cup race, I can laugh now at the commentator’s kind words:
“The New Zealanders will be home soon, but there’s no shame there, they have to start from somewhere.”
We trailed behind, finishing 20 seconds after the US eight, who had just set a new World Best Time. It was a humbling experience, but it didn’t deter me. I actually agreed with the commentator; we had to start somewhere.
That was until one sunny morning at Lake Karapiro. As we were all carrying our pairs to the water, Dick came over to us on the pontoon and said, “You can all go home, I’ve been fired,” then walked off. I had thought the hardest part of my day would be getting through the 30km row we were about to do, but it turns out that I was wrong. Suddenly, we were in a meeting room, being told that the strategy had changed. Apart from the two rowers who had competed in the pair the previous year, the sweep programme was being disbanded. Everyone else was now part of a large sculling squad. I can probably count on one hand the times I cried publicly during my rowing career, but this was one of them.
Change is hard for anyone. For me, this was the start of a personal challenge and I would have to figure out whether I could overcome it or not.
I was born with scoliosis, a curved spine, which means that genetically, symmetrical movements are challenging, if not impossible. Being told that my rowing dream depended on sculling felt like I had been handed an eviction notice from the team. But as a young, unproven athlete in the team, I had no choice but to give it a go. This marked the official start of my sculling career, which turned out to be pretty short-lived.
The summer of sculling didn’t turn out to be a complete disaster. I managed to hold my own in a very unconventional way. The biggest challenge was trying to go straight in a single. Sadly, I never figured this out, so I spent a few rows weaving my way up and down the lake. After that, I found that my name didn’t often feature in the list of singles going out, so I think a few people on the coaching team agreed that my future did not lie in the single. Still, I managed to reach the point where I thought I stood a chance of making the elite women’s quad.
Trials week at that time was a nervous affair. It consisted of turning up to the Rowing New Zealand High Performance Centre every morning and afternoon, anxiously waiting for a selector to read out the crews for the next session. It was a rollercoaster of emotions, not knowing whether I would be returning home to wait for the next announcement or be called up for an unknown number of 1500m races. I had been out for quite a few sessions when one announcement turned out to be the biggest defining moment of my rowing career: the selector read out all the crews for the next seat racing session, ending with, “Gowler and Prendergast, training row.”
Surprised, Kerri and I headed off for what we thought was a training row in a double, only to find a pair waiting for us in the boat bay. There is still some confusion about whether this was an intentional decision or a miscommunication. However, Mike Rodger, one of the New Zealand rowing coaches, assured us it was correct and sent us on our way.
Accidental or not on Mike’s part, we clicked from the first stroke and went on to be selected as the under-23 women’s pair, kicking off nine years of rowing together. Thankfully, our debut season in the pair was more successful than in the eight. We managed to win the under-23s, finishing 13 seconds ahead of the silver medallists. As an added bonus, it turns out you can get away with being unsymmetrical in the pair, so I really found my home! We had no idea of the journey ahead of us or the ups and downs we would face together, but right from the start, we both knew that we loved rowing in this combination. For the first time, we found ourselves thinking that maybe an Olympic gold medal could be a realistic goal.
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