Twenty-six years ago, 16 tall and rather green oarsmen took their first strokes for Harvard in the "Leviathan" training barge--newly launched that fall of 1928. Since these first awkward strokes, somewhere in the neighborhood of 1,200 neophyte rowers have tried to master the fundamentals of catch and release aboard the flat-bottomed craft.

This fall is its last on the Charles.

To the sorrow of most oarsmen, the barge has sprung is weak in the joints, and has to be scrapped. At least it will not float on the river any more. It may go to Dartmouth, however, two carpenters, "Scotty" and Arthur, worked five weeks building a stronger, lighter, and more-casily handled boat. It was launched three days ago but won't be used until next fall, for it has no riggers and the outdoor training season will be over in two weeks.

(in the above picture two Leviathan crews are submerging the float at Newell Boathouse in order to launch the new barge.)

Historically, this Leviathan is the third such trainer in the annals of Crimson crew. The first appeared in 1922, but was poorly constructed and survived only six years. The carpenters for Leviathan III hope it will last at least half a century.

Massive Craft

Although the builders of the first Leviathan got their name for a craft from Canard's newly-launched luxury liner of the same name, its origin is actually in the Book of Job, Chapter 41. In its Biblical cantext, Leviathan means whale or large fish:

"Can you draw out Leviathan with a fish hook? Can you put a rope in its nose or Plerce his Jaw with a hook? Will he play with you as a bird? Or will you put him on leash for your maidens?"

Surely the newest version of this ancient creature will never be a plaything. It took 32 men to lift the pine, oak, and plywood frame from its saw-horses in the boathouse down to the float, and lots of ingenuity to float lit.

For coming crew generations, it will mean sweat and work, and possibly a bit of satisfaction in continuing such an ancient tradition.