Beer, boats, bedlam and Saunders at annual river race

For more than half a century, the River Yealm Beer Race has been turning village rivalry, rowing boats and a frankly questionable quantity of beer into one of the most gloriously eccentric traditions on the South Hams calendar.

The race first took to the water in 1971, although exactly how it came about remains the subject of several local theories. Its present organisers are not prepared to put their name to one definitive version – perhaps appropriately for an event whose history seems to be as fluid as the river itself.

What is known is that the race has passed through the hands of several generations of organisers, each bringing something of their own to the event before eventually handing it on.

That sense of inheritance is important to James Martin, Matthew Hoskin and Rob Hockaday, the three born-and-bred locals who took over in 2022.

For them, running the race is not simply about organising a peculiar evening of rowing and drinking. They are custodians of something that has been handed down through the villages, with each generation adding its own quirks while keeping the spirit of the original alive.

“Being part of the race is a rite of passage,” James said. “Everyone who grows up around here wants to be involved.”

That involvement taps into a much older relationship between the twin villages and the Yealm itself.

The river has long been at the heart of life in Noss Mayo and Newton Ferrers, with a tradition of rowing and fierce – if generally good-natured – rivalry between the communities.

The annual regatta, which dates back more than a century, originally grew from contests between teams of Newton Ferrers and Noss Mayo fishermen.

The Beer Race may be considerably less respectable than its sporting forebears, but it has inherited some of the same competitive spirit.

“It’s all about the villages coming together – it’s probably the only time we get on with each other,” the organisers joked.

And unlike many organised sporting events, the Beer Race is not particularly interested in waiting for perfect conditions. It goes ahead come rain or shine - in its 55-year history, it has only been cancelled once during the Covid-19 pandemic.

The current organisers have also begun leaving their own fingerprints on the tradition.

One of their additions is the ceremonial “blessing”, in which a chosen local character is invited to open proceedings. The criteria: they should be a valued member of the community, something of an icon and, crucially, have “good craic”.

The first year, the organisers turned to the local vicar. This year the honour went to Patrick “Paddy” Duff, a familiar face around the villages whose sunny personality made him a fitting choice.

“I love this race because it’s the glue that ties the community together,” he said.

If the blessing is the dignified beginning, the trophy is less so - rather in keeping with the tone of the whole race.

For years, the winning prize was a plate. Matthew felt this was inadequate.

“You could hardly drink anything off of it,” he said.

So, in the spirit of improving the event per a Beer Race organiser's duty, he went looking for something bigger.

“I was trying to think what the biggest vessel to drink out of could be and, naturally, I thought chamber pot,” he said.

A resident found him one. It was commissioned into a suitably impressive trophy, and a new tradition was born.

“Now you can drink loads,” Matthew said.

That same mixture of ingenuity and complete lack of seriousness runs through the race itself.

The race sees teams of eight competing in men's and women's categories, rowing boats no longer than 10ft between four drinking stops - The Ship Inn, The Dolphin, The Swan and the Yacht Club.

Competitors complete a relay, with each participant required to return to their original starting point.

At each stop, rowers neck a pint – or half a pint for women, although nobody is stopping anyone from choosing the full measure.

The rowing is matched by an equally serious commitment to fancy dress. There are prizes for the fastest teams but also the best-dressed, meaning crews have to decide whether to prioritise speed, spectacle or somehow attempt both.

“The women are a lot better at doing both,” Matthew said. “The men usually pick one, but we all take the fancy dress very seriously.”

To that end, Matthew, a secondary school teacher, said he spent his summer holidays designing his team's boat for this year's race – an elaborate Trojan horse for The Odyssey team.

In this year’s spectacle, which took place on Friday, September 11, Vikings, sharks, chefs, hippies, golfers, molluscs, Ninjas and even Nigel Farage took to the River Yealm – and that was before the beer started taking effect.

The event brought hundreds of spectators to the waterfront for an evening of competitive rowing, elaborate fancy dress and increasingly chaotic boatmanship.

Around 20 teams took part across the men's and women's categories, with the women's race set off at 6pm, and the men following five minutes later.

From the riverbank, it was clear that fancy dress was being taken almost as seriously as the rowing.

This year's crews also included Count Bin Face, Drag Dolly Partons, 80s glam, Marilyn Monroes and South West Water with Faecal Floaters teams, alongside an ambitious Trojan horse boat representing The Odyssey.

That ambition occasionally came at a cost.

At least one oar snapped after a collision, a Dolly lost her hat almost immediately, costumes interfered with rowing, boats repeatedly bumped into one another, and some competitors ended up in the water.

Others resorted to standing up in their boats – seemingly after they had lost an oar.

The crowds cheered familiar faces from the banks as the crews became progressively wobblier and their rowing progressively less effective.

Actress Jennifer Saunders, who has family in the area, was among the spectators at The Ship Inn.

She described the event as “great”, “chaotic” and fun for every age group.

“It’s the highlight of my year, the Beer Race,” she said. “Nobody’s trying to be cool; it’s just for here, for every age group, it’s chaotic and fun, and that’s what life should be about.”

And that perhaps sums up the Beer Race best: a little ridiculous, decidedly competitive and entirely joyful.

But beneath the costumes, the chaos, and the chamber-pot trophy, there is a serious responsibility attached to throwing dozens of increasingly merry rowers onto a tidal river.

The organisers say participants have grown up on the water, while entrants must sign a waiver and demonstrate that they have the necessary rowing ability before taking part.

James acknowledged that the combination of alcohol, boats and competition inevitably carries risks, but said safety precautions and people stationed on the water are in place.

“We're aware things could go wrong,” he said. “Luckily, there’s never been any serious incidents.”

For Matthew, that knowledge only makes the tradition feel more precious.

“It does sometimes feel like we’re running on borrowed time, but that’s why we make the most of it for as long as it goes on for,” he said.

And perhaps that is why the Beer Race has endured.

It is not polished, particularly sensible or designed for outsiders. It is a little bit competitive, a little bit chaotic and very much their own.

“It’s such a special event,” Matthew said. “Where else has something like this?”

It is a tradition that belongs unmistakably to the Yealm – chaotic, competitive, occasionally ridiculous and, above all, proudly local.