Turning Silver into Gold

In 2022, Wilderness School's top four rowers lined up at the Australian Rowing Championships and pulled off something extraordinary, a silver medal in the Schoolgirl Coxed Four, the best result in the school's history. It was a moment that showed what was possible.

The following year, with only one returning athlete and a new coach, a fresh crew rose to the challenge. Against brutal conditions, they matched the achievement, another silver. A crew of mostly Year 10 athletes, rowing well beyond their years, proving that courage and belief can close the gap on experience.

By 2024, it seemed that this was finally Wilderness's year. Previous rivals had fielded a brand-new crew, while Wilderness returned with four of the same athletes and their coach. The final was the closest yet. A heart-stopping race decided by one length. Another silver. Another incredible performance. Another almost.

In 2025, I joined Wilderness as Director of Rowing. One goal stood out: that elusive gold medal. I'd been hired as the coach of the crew that had beaten them in previous years, so the challenge was clear, not just to win, but to transform how we chased success.

Once again, we had a strong foundation of three returning athletes who'd been part of two silver-medal crews. They knew how to win… but they also knew what it felt like to fall just short. The question was simple: what would it take to climb that final step?

Paradoxically, my first move was the opposite of what anyone expected. I reduced the training load. For these schoolgirls, balancing study, jobs, friends, and other sports, they didn't need more; they needed better.

We shifted from quantity to quality. Every session had purpose, every stroke had intent. Timed rests, fast turns, targets hit. The result? Fewer hours on the water, better performance, and yes — a few extra sleep-ins.

Then came the biggest change. A complete rebuild of their technique. A bold move. They had found success with what they knew; they were already close. But I believed they had another level to reach, one unlocked only by letting go of comfort.

After assessing their style against the Rowing Australia Standard and studying the technique that had helped previous crews win gold, I identified three key areas where we could find speed.

1. Patience

They had learned the correct sequence seasons ago, but I wanted something deeper: patience. Feeling every phase of the stroke, letting each part have space and purpose, rather than rushing. Arms extended fully before the body moved. Body rock completed before the seat reached quarter slide. Blade dropped cleanly before leg drive.

We trained patience at low and high rates, learning to hold separation and stay composed even when the rate crept toward 40. It became our edge: the power of patience under pressure.

2. Stillness

Next, I asked them to master stillness. In a long, narrow boat, even the smallest motion steals speed. We chased calm that made the boat look effortless.

Stillness at the finish. Stillness as the seat glided forward. Stillness through the drive, even as the legs unleashed power. Every session refined control, precision, and presence. Because true speed comes from calm, not chaos.

3. Cohesion

Finally, we turned to timing, the heartbeat of any crew. Even the smallest misalignment can cost speed.

Hands away together. Knees breaking together. Bodies swinging together. Blades entering the water as one. When that happened, the boat ran smoother, faster, freer. We weren't four rowers in a boat, we were one crew.

By mid-season, something had shifted. The chatter, the way they carried themselves, even the rhythm of their paddling, it all felt different. They weren't chasing medals anymore; they were chasing mastery.

At nationals, after a gruelling campaign in many boat classes, they qualified for the final of the Schoolgirl coxed four in fourth place. The margins were tight, so we did something bold. We changed our race plan completely.

In the final, they rowed with calm conviction. At halfway, they sat equal first. By the third 500 — where good crews fight, but great crews rise — they made their move. Stroke by stroke, they pushed into the lead, opening clear water.

They crossed the line one length ahead of the crew that had beaten them the year before. Gold. The first in Wilderness School's history.

But the real victory wasn't just the medal, it was how they achieved it. By reducing the load, focusing on quality over quantity, and refining their technique, we had unlocked the extra speed they needed. Patience, stillness, and cohesion weren't just ideals, they were the tools that transformed every stroke into power.

The difference wasn't in working harder; it was in working smarter, in training with intent, and trusting the process. The crew hadn't just gained confidence, they had gained speed. And that was the change that carried them from silver to gold.