FOR a city that once built one-fifth of the world's shipping, its citizens never seemed naturally at home on boats.

The nearest most folk came to water was a trip on the Govan ferry, or being tempted on a sunny day to parks such as Victoria Park which had weatherbeaten rowboats you could hire. You would keep one eye on the boats around you to try to avoid collisions, and one eye on the suspiciously large pool of water in the bottom to judge whether it was filling up.

The old gag was about the parkie shouting out: "Come in number nine, your time's up." When his colleague said they didn't have a number nine, the parkie squinted over before shouting: "Number six, are you in difficulties?"

The Bingham family in Great Western Road at Anniesland showed some entrepreneurial spirit by putting some rowing boats on an old coal pit which had become flooded, now rechristened Bingham's Boating Pond, and built a tearoom to tempt the many couples out for a walk.

The boats and tearoom have gone now, swallowed up by Reo Stakis building a hotel on the site.

Rowing though is one of those deceptive activities which looks far easier than it is. Instead of effortlessly gliding across the pond, you would struggle to keep the heavy oars in the oarlocks, and then face the ignominy of watching one of your oars slip out and drift away. If you could get both oars going at once, your stronger arm would simply lead you around in circles. Rowing across Bingham's Pond seemed as big a challenge as rowing the Atlantic.

So it was humbling to see rowing being done properly on the Clyde on Saturday as the crews from Glasgow and Edinburgh universities battled each other from the Broomielaw to the Riverside Museum at Partick, in the Scottish Boat Race.

Glasgow University has had a boathouse further upstream at Glasgow Green for more than 100 years. In fact it was a few chums, waiting to go out rowing at the Green, who passed the time by kicking a ball about who went on to form Rangers Football Club. If only a few more boats had been available, who knows how history might have changed.

In the sixties and seventies, rowing on the Clyde at Glasgow Green was a tad challenging. The Polmadie bridge just yards from the boathouse was the border between rival gangs who would often meet on the bridge for bloody encounters. Crews travelling below had to duck from empty Buckfast bottles being lobbed like grenades from above. You don't get that at Henley regatta.

If you are at Glasgow Green, you probably think the university boathouse is seriously dilapidated. But as Herald rowing correspondent Mike Haggerty tells me: "At least it's got a toilet and running water. Not every boathouse has."

Mike explains that one reason the boathouse has lacked investment is that any money the rowing club has goes on the boats, with a good racing shell costing between £25,000 to £30,000.

One oar alone can cost £250, although they are clearly of a superior quality to the gnarled paddles the parkie hired out at Victoria Park.

One former yoonie rower told me that on a Saturday morning at Glasgow Green, after a particularly heavy night on the sauce, it was not unknown for a rower to break his rhythm in order to throw up over the side.

But these were not the elite rowers that we saw on the Clyde on Saturday. The young men and women of the university teams are honed athletes who spend their winters on indoor rowing machines building up the cardiovascular and muscle strength to power a boat through the water like a warm knife through butter.

The annual contest between Edinburgh and Glasgow universities used to take place at Glasgow Green, but it was moved downstream where it could be seen by more passers-by.

Edinburgh had brought a large contingent of noisy supporters through.

After asking for cheers from both sides, commentator Bryan Burnett announced: "It's a very enthusiastic crowd from Edinburgh - and that's not a phrase you say about Edinburgh very often."

There were three chaps there in blazers, but no straw boaters and no one I could see drinking Pimms. Rowing in Scotland is not the preserve of the Hooray Henrys of Henley Royal Regatta.

Stephen Fisher, captain of the Glasgow University Boat Club, is a medical student who had never rowed before coming to Glasgow, but wanted to try something new. "No it's not posh, particularly at university," says Stephen. "Rowers are all shapes, sizes and backgrounds.

"The Scottish Boat Race is a fantastic spectacle, rowing past all those iconic buildings on the Clyde and then hearing the cheers of spectators on the final stretch."

In truth this year the cheers were a bit muted for Glasgow as they were well beaten by Edinburgh in five of the six races, with the Glasgow women having the sole victory for the west thanks in part to the Edinburgh crew having steering difficulties which had them heading alarmingly towards Govan rather than the finish line.

But Glasgow has a young crew who will be stronger next year.

Hopefully next year they won't just be going through the motions, which is what they used to say about rowing on the Clyde before the river was cleaned up.