It might be fair to call this the platinum jubilee of the regatta on the Wallkill, for this year marks its 70th anniversary, but it’s not by any stretch the 70th annual. There have been numerous gaps in its history that undermine that claim, and if it had been held every single year since its founding, this would have been the 71st one in a row. No matter how one words it, though, it’s a big deal for this wacky tradition conceived by college students who might have been looking for an excuse to hold a party on the water. Reports suggest that 14 human-powered craft were put into the water, and it seems that all of them made it to the finish line in one form or another. It was the boat fielded through the town’s youth program that took top honors for its paddlers, in a craft intended to evoke the time machine from Back to the Future.
A journey to the past
First, though, the reader is invited to take a trip back through time without the use of a Delorean. In 1955 the brothers of Delta Kappa, whose house was on South Oakwood Terrace according to newspaper reports, were mostly veterans of the Korean conflict who were glad to have survived that harrowing experience and quick to take advantage of a free education thanks to the G.I. Bill. This was the kind of fraternity on which the movie Animal House was modeled, recalls Lou Mosconi The resident house mothers — Honey and Baby — were in their late 80s and early 90s, and had been hired because they were too deaf to be awakened by carousing. Mosconi tells of one inspection during which brothers surreptitiously moved a keg of beer from floor to floor using the back stairwell while the dean ascended via the front one. Many of them were regulars at the tavern on the corner of North Front and Main streets, called “Pat and George’s.”
Lest readers be led astray, the brothers of Delta Kappa were also known for good works in the community, including repainting Moriello Pool and handing out Christmas presents to orphans in Kingston. Many of them, Mosconi included, graduated and became permanent members of the community. Mosconi has been married 67 years thanks to a chance meeting on a Mohonk hike during freshman year. College life has long been a transitional time full of energy that bursts out in many forms.
Nevertheless, it was not especially surprising that this culture of alcohol carried over into the regatta that they launched that year, the brainchild of one Frank Coulard. There was even a bottle of champagne lowered from the bridge in a bucket, to be claimed by the crew of the winning craft.
The original plan was to take the river all the way from Gardiner to the New Paltz bridge. “We decided that that was too ambitious,” recalled Ed Beck, who was a Kappa brother at the time. It scaled back to begin at what’s referred to in newspapers of the time as the “clay pits.” Setting the tone for regattas thereafter, not all of the hand-powered craft — which had to be assembled from items not intended to float — made it even that far. However, Mosconi contends that this may have had less to do with the construction as it did the beer that was consumed that day.
What was known as the Kappa Regatta was preceded by a procession of the crafts down Main Street from Oakwood to where they’d be launched, together with the smiling college women contending to be crowned queen of the regatta and costumed entrants with their homemade water crafts. Mosconi recalls that Floyd Kniffen, Sr., was in charge of signaling the beginning of the race; this was a town-gown affair from the very beginning. It was followed by a return to Pat and George’s — now known as P&G’s — for various awards. One of Mosconi’s pledge brothers, Ed Beck, one of Mosconi’s pledge brothers, did not graduate but went on to buy that popular tavern; Beck’s grandchildren are now in charge there.
Alcohol threatened the regatta’s survival
The event had a reputation of being connected to alcohol, but the alcohol that posed the most serious danger to the regatta’s existence was consumed during another parade, for St. Patrick’s day. In 1986, an intoxicated driver struck a young onlooker and caused serious injuries. That was the last St. Patrick’s Day parade in New Paltz, and for a time there were worries that there would be no parades at all because the police liability insurance had lapsed and town officials couldn’t find coverage. Bill Yeaple, then the town supervisor, suggested drily that they instead hold a demolition derby in the pond on campus. Regatta organizers, realizing that the boat race itself didn’t require a permit, went ahead without a parade that year. In addition to the traditional champagne in a bucket, winners got a dinner for two—at which restaurant is unclear—as well as a case of soda and a front-end alignment as prizes.
Mayor Tom Nyquist assembled a committee to bring back the regatta in 2001, and it appears that those organizers were keeping a close eye on the drunkenness. They didn’t want a few bad applies to ruin the bunch. It seems that even the champagne-bottle tradition was discontinued, but it was returned more recently, with the same historic bucket used from 1955 onward. It’s now golden, and is used to this day for the same finishing tradition.
The next iterations of the regatta
The first age of regattas ended in 1962 due to “administrative policy” at the college according to reports; Mosconi maintains that some of the Kappa brothers had hung Dean Haggerty in effigy from the Mid-Hudson Bridge, and the fraternity’s charter was revoked. The next version, organized by locals, was kicked off in 1966 and was held at least through ’71. In 1968, organizers experimented with a slalom course to test the maneuverability of the craft, in addition to their general ability to float. There was a canoe race on the river 1977-1981, but whether that could even be considered a regatta in the New Paltz style is up for debate. There is no question that the third iteration was in play when a “homemade division” was added in 1982, leading one local reporter to write that it was “back to being an annual affair” that included such fun as paddling a chest freezer through the water. The 1985 regatta was even referred to as the “fourth annual” in the Huguenot Herald.
Starting in 2001 was the longest continuous running of the regatta, through and including 2019. Having to cancel two years running due to a pandemic led some to wonder if the regatta would ever resurface, but it’s now back in force. The 16 preregistered craft put it in the middle of the pack when it comes to participation over the years. That’s the same number that was fielded in 1956, 1967, and 2004. The ’80s saw as few as a half-dozen craft in 1984, but estimates of 20 or more the following year and 22 in 1986. Coverage in the 2010s was often photo spreads without hard numbers, but 10 craft were reported in 2012, and 12 in 2014.
A tumultuous start to this year’s historic regatta
Thus the fifth leg of this historic regatta started off shaky, but is quickly picking up steam. Theresa Fall, chair of the regatta’s organizing committee, said, “We lost our momentum” due to having to cancel the event two years running. “The danger is not having boats.” Last year, there were only five. Local business owner Max Kimlin put up some money to help a couple of local groups build new ones, and Fall said that once those bases are created, it’s relatively easy to swap out a different theme each year if desired.
Mosconi rightly noted that the focus of the regatta has shifted from being organized by college students to being a completely local affair. It’s even been moved to June to ensure nicer weather, which shuts out most student participation. However, Fall noted that in recent years the usual May date conflicted with finals, making it “not realistic” for most of them to get involved anyway. 70 years ago many students paid for their education with military service, but today they are most likely to be saddled with decades of loans to pay off. That might change how they think about spending time building and riding a craft made of four-poster bed on inner tubes. In 2025, most entries come from large families and stable local organizations.
Good, not-so-clean fun
An important character throughout this history is the Wallkill itself. There could be no race of comical watercraft without this river. It’s a river who has had a hard relationship with its human neighbors, though, and the idea of having “good, clean fun” on its waters is one that’s on the minds of many.
Mosconi remembers that there was a price to pay for jumping in to haul a craft out of the river. “A week after, I got sores from being in that water.” Humans have been dumping their feces into rivers for a very long time. In Rome, the sewer-goddess Cloacina was the river that the populace used for disposing of their collective poop. The Wallkill of the 20th century was not much better, to hear Mosconi speak of it.
Today that river is much cleaner thanks to efforts of groups including the Wallkill River Watershed Alliance and improvements to sewage treatment along its length, but many still shy away from events like the regatta out of concerns for their own health. Fall has long championed environmental causes, which included entering the regatta with New Paltz GreenWorks with a craft to promote recycling bins in the late aughts. Funds raised beyond what’s needed to cover expenses — which as of next year include police costs for the parade — are donated to Riverkeeper, Fall said.
The enthusiastic entrantsÂ
Into that cleaner river plunged many enthusiastic entrants who ranged in age from as young as 10 to past 90. Logan, a patrol leader in troop 172, explained how scouts decided on a camping scene with tent and smoking fire and assembled it over several days — with adult supervision, but handling their own decisions. Alex and Nathan were among those who set sail on that craft. At the other end of the age spectrum were Dave Smith, Martin and Caroline Lavahor, who identified as the “geezer crew” on the STS Woodlandia; “STS” being short for “soon to sink.” (It had appeared during the regatta that the Woodlandia had fallen apart, but it may have been misidentified.)
Other entries included Boaty McBoatface, a pirate ship from Snug’s, Jesus walking on water and supported by pastor of St. Anne’s, a flying saucer, the “dirty water dogs” in hot dog costumes, and the triumphant return of an entry from the New Paltz Rescue Squad for the first time in at least ten years. Members of the Hudson Valley women’s rugby team who entered for the first time and, according to Amanda Fenton, were making modifications to lighten the load that very morning, were in fact the ones whose craft disassembled en route and had to be pushed most of the way to the finish line. They did, however, finish.
The youth center boat, which during the parade sported a silver Delorean with its rabbit-ear doors open, was part of a set with one from the Creative Common Service Network, which had an “under the sea” theme. The Delorean, however, did not survive acceleration to 88 miles per hour. According to staff member Justin Hillborne, “We hit the car with our paddles when we started, and it broke apart. That’s when we had to make a decision,” and they decided to jettison the prop and go for broke. “It was the worst start and best finish possible.”
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