I've always fancied myself a swell rower.

All the folks at the gym comment on my rowing machine mastery - my perfect oaring form.

But until this weekend, my rowing experience has lacked in two significant areas: the inclusion of water and/or a boat of any kind. But that rowing machine and I - we went places. Imaginarily speaking.

But if you and I are going to be honest with each other, I should admit I've never actually rowed in a shell...and no one has ever commented on my rowing machine form. (But I'm sure they thought about it.)

As far as I've been concerned, "shells" were the candy part of a Skittle, "outriggers" were nonverbal - though highly intelligent - rustic trail guides and "coxswain" was a word I wouldn't use in polite company.

Leave it to the Portland Community Rowing Association to put an end to my inappropriately defined terminology.

The organization recently launched in town, aiming to give seasoned rowers a chance to exercise their penchant for the sport and also providing newcomers the opportunity to learn it. Its programs are open to kids and adults in the area, and Sunday was the first Adult Rowing Day.

While a determined spray of rain worked to prevent any type of outdoor entertainment, a dozen or so water-resistant folks met near the East End Beach boat launch for a rowing introduction.

Local Ned Flint is heading up the endeavor. And after we completed our participation waivers, Ned got busy 'splaining things. He brought out a couple of oars, showing us the difference between a sweep oar and a scull.

We took a gander at one of the boats - the yellow eight-seater - that rested comfortably on a recently built rack.

Ned lined us up alongside the shell and taught us how to lift the boat to our waists, then lift it again over our heads to move it to a couple slings nearby. Once placed upright, we took an up-close gander at what we were dealing with.

The boat was nothing new to some more-experienced rowers among us, but I was surprised to discover eight pairs of built-in shoes inside.

How handy.

Of course, before we could get in the thing, we needed to work on our form. So we broke off into groups and sharpened our rowing skills on my old friend the rowing machine. The key, I learned, is straightening your legs before pulling back on the "oars," then letting the arms and upper body to go forward before allowing the legs to bend again.

Finally, after lifting the boat to our shoulders and making our careful way down to the beach, we put that puppy into the water.



Oars were gotten and placed into the oarlocks.

And while it was the first time some of us had ever attempted to climb into a shell, everyone made it safely in without falling out, tipping over or putting a foot through the bottom.

And let's face it, we looked good. Like competitive level good.

Unfortunately our skills were still rudimentary level good. And with the choppy waves and the lack of a dingy (the better to coach us on the water with) our group wasn't able to get more than 10 feet from shore. Ned couldn't let us row out into the bay all willy-nilly.

We'll save that for lesson No. 2.

To the rowing machine, my apologies. We won't be seeing much of each other this summer.

I'll be on the water.

For all the details on the Portland Community Rowing Association, check www.rowportland.org

To get on the mailing list for upcoming lessons and excursions, email Ned Flint at row@rowportland.org

And hey, if rowing on the water simlpy doesn't appeal to you, you can always beef up your rowing machine prowess and compete in the world championships for indoor rowing