History: This page is a work in progress
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AN OVERVIEW
Until it was closed by Louisville Waterfront Development Corporation in 2005, The Harbor was believed to be at least the oldest continuously operating municipal harbor on The Ohio River and among the oldest surviving inland recreational harbors in the entire country. As evidenced by its inclusion in a series of 1940’s Illinois Central Railroad postcards that also included St. Louis Cathedral, New Orleans; The Mississippi River Bridge at Vicksburg; and Confederate Park in Memphis; it was once considered a major attraction and an engineering marvel. In spite of municipal indifference and neglect, its ingenious design has survived the test of time and the whims of the mighty Ohio for 70 years.
Since 1956, The Louisville Harbor Association, a
non-profit group, had leased the property from the City of Louisville (now
Louisville Metro). For half a century, its members were solely
responsible for the daunting task of operating and maintaining the harbor.
This was done through a membership system based on seasonal slip rentals
and community involvement. The Association welcomed all without
regard to race, creed or social status. The only requirement for membership
was a love of boating, sense of community, self-sufficiency, and respect
for the awesome power of the Ohio River. The membership represented every possible social status from student, to blue-collar worker, to
professional, to academic, to retiree.
The Harbor Association always fulfilled its financial responsibilities to The City and most significantly acted as a concerned steward of a little known public treasure. Diligent preservation of the last remaining pristine, riverine public space in The City was the highest priority. In the Fall of 2005, The Association was given notice to vacate at the end of the current boating season to make way for private mega-development. There are many who feel that although renovation, expansion, modernization, and controlled development is desirable, the current scenario is a dubious use of land that would interrupt the continuity of public green spaces between The Louisville Waterfront Park and The Beargrass Nature Preserve. This proposed development may also forever erase The Harbor from its hard earned place in the historic fabric of the community.
FROM CANOES TO POWER CRUISERS
Before one can understand the role The Louisville Municipal Harbor has played in local river life, it is necessary to touch on the local history of The Ohio River. River transportation is driven by expansion and commerce. In the early days of the western expansion of the 18th century, people and goods traveled the Ohio by canoe, raft, and flatboat. Louisville became a transit center and the metropolis simply because The Falls of the Ohio formed a natural obstacle that interrupted waterborne travel at Louisville. With the invention of steam power and improvements in navigation, the early craft eventually evolved into the classic grand riverboats of the 19th and early 20th century.
Although local area navigation was vastly improved with the circumvention of The Falls of the Ohio by the construction of Portland Canal in 1830, by the time following WWI, the need to further “tame” the wildly fluctuating water levels, shifting bars, and snags that constantly endangered the movement of goods and passengers on the “Western Rivers” was of critical importance to the continued growth of the nation. The U. S. Army Corps of Engineers was given the responsibility to “pave the way” for routine interstate commerce using the rivers of the Mississippi River Watershed. This was done through the construction of an extensive series of locks and dams.
Among the most daunting of challenges was the “Falls of the Ohio” at Louisville KY. Although the private Portland Canal and Lock had been in operation since the 1830's, major improvement in the river conditions did not occur till 1927 when a movable weir dam with a navigable pass was built in conjunction with a hydroelectric power project of the Louisville Gas and Electric Company. This structure was known as Locks and Dam #41 (later renamed McAlpine). Its completion stabilized what is now known as The McAlpine Pool extending from Louisville to The Markland Locks and Dam some 75 miles upriver. Although the winter and spring was still a time of ice, flood and peril. This stretch of The Ohio now had a reasonably predictable minimum year round navigable depth of at least 9 feet and was generally stable.
Although these folks had been on the river in one form or another for at least 100 years, by 1927, the time of the McAlpine pool and the “conquering” of the river, most local authorities were opposed to the presence of these “drifters” on the doorsteps of their cities. They were forced to the fringes and otherwise uninhabitable riverside areas of the towns and cities; often building shore dwellings from available materials in an attempt to escape the spring and winter tumults and normalize life for their families.
By the 1920’s such was the area called “The Point”. This area was the triangular area roughly bounded by the Ohio River to the north, the old Beargrass Creek channel to the south, and Ohio Street to the east. Although its was the first true eastern suburb, it was soon bypassed by the developing Metropolis. In the late 1920’s and early 1930’s The City of Louisville decided to acquire the land on the premise of using it to extend the planned Parks System. This was to be accomplished by the systematic condemnation of large tracts of land in the area.
The residents of the affected areas were strongly opposed to this action, including some incidents of civil disorder. Although many residents of The Point were the dreaded “River Rats” and had no formal claim to the land they occupied, most were legitimate property and business owners. In the end, the flood of 1937 destroyed most of the shanty boats and other modest squatters dwellings. Later that year, the acquisition was finally completed with the buyout of the legitimate landowners.
The Point neighborhood was effectively erased from the map by order of The Louisville Parks and Recreation Board. They decreed that the last 142 structures be "razed to 2 feet below ground level and the entire area surveyed for future park development". Although it is unclear if this directive was ever carried out, the 1945 Flood surely did the job for them. The entire area south of The Harbor was then turned into what would become Thruston Park. As Louisville's original waterfront park, it remained the major east-end urban recreational area until Interstate 64 construction in the early 60's relegated the area to an isolated backwater.
The early 20th century also found a new group of adventurers appearing on the river. Driven by new relatively light internal combustion engines, recreational boaters could now be seen piloting their vessels to and fro. Late spring saw the larger cruisers launched from the downtown wharf from wagons or improvised trailers by tractor or mule team and cruised to a mooring for use in the summer and fall. In a practice that continues to this day, most of these were later hauled from the river and stored on land to avoid the ice and floods of the winter and spring. Smaller runabouts and skiffs were stored on the shore and launched as needed. Consequently, the shoreline up and down river became dotted with the occasional dock, floating boathouse/club, or wharf boat where the boat owners and their newly fashionable vessels could congregate.
THE HARBOR IS BORN
In the early 30’s it was decided that the City should have it’s own small boat harbor and it would be named The Louisville Municipal Yacht Basin. Although credit for this far sighted decision eludes us, a look at the early Louisville Municipal Harbor (as it was renamed) reveals some fascinating history.
The receipt books of The Parks and Recreation Board show that the early patrons
were among the most famous and wealthiest citizens of Louisville including the
founder of Brown Forman, Owsley Brown, the inventor of the modern baseball bat,
Bud Hillerich, members of the Bullitt family, and many well known state and local political
figures. These well-heeled pillars of local society no doubt supplied the
impetus behind the founding of the new harbor. Their newfangled craft would be
the centerpiece for the planned park development to the east of downtown.
It was decided to construct the harbor adjacent to the river behind Towhead Island. This area had originally been the very first Louisville suburb where wealthy citizens built magnificent summer homes along the River at Fulton St. The area was also known for shipbuilding, pottery manufacture, and in earliest times, as the site of the Geiger Ferry. This was the first regular service to unite Louisville with the Indiana shore and is credited for giving rise to the town of Jeffersonville IN.
An area at the foot of Ohio Street was chosen and construction began in September of 1935 as W.P.A. Project # 110 District 6 Louisville KY. Financed by $25,000 of local funds and $125,000 in federal funds planners called for a huge excavation totally independent of the river. Only when the harbor was largely complete would the earthen dikes at each end be removed to allow the river to claim what was previously meadow, marsh, and floodplain.
A small army of workers and the latest heavy equipment was brought to bear. The Harbor began to take shape just downriver of Beargrass Creek. Construction was aided by the 3rd lowest river levels ever recorded (6.0 ft on 02/05/1936). It grew into a cavernous 1200 X 120 X 12 foot deep crescent nestled behind Towhead Island. The secondary piling and timber reinforced rampart of the newly created Harbor Island offered added protection from the main river. Pilings were driven; docks, boardwalks, roads, and automobile parking was constructed.
The downriver slanted docks of the interior harbor made it possible for the pilots of the small and medium sized vessels to safely enter and leave the slips in the often swift current using the pilings as a pivot point. Without this feature, safe, cross current docking during high water periods would be impossible. An interesting bonus to this arrangement was that the current pushed most of the river’s debris under or over the docks and down the slanted sides of the moored boats allowing it to continue its downriver journey instead of massing into a jam that would, at best, eventually clog and fill the harbor with silt, or at worst, create a log jam with the potential to destroy the docks and carry them away.
On July 26 1936 Mayor Neville Miller grabbed a spade and breached the earthen dike to allow the mighty Ohio to fill the newly renamed Louisville Municipal Yacht Harbor. It is ironic that less than a year later, Mayor Neville would preside over Louisville as the river did its best to erase this accomplishment, and everything else. The record 01/27/37 flood crest of 52.15 ft (the highest ever recorded) ravaged the surrounding area, but with the exception of massive amounts of mud, the harbor survived more or less intact.
By the end of 1940, The Harbor had been enlarged from the original 120 slips to 140 by adding to the area downstream of the original basin and aided by easy access on the nearby interurban trolley lines of The Louisville Railway Company (1898-1948) which was also used to move boats to and from the harbor, it soon became the preferred area for a family outing or picnic.
There was no end to the sights to be seen; beautiful automobiles delivering their well heeled owners to and from their boats, vessels of all sizes and descriptions coming and going as they merged with the normal river traffic of grunting tugs and majestic riverboats on their normal trips to and from The Louisville Wharf a little more than a mile down river. The annual parade of boats was a popular event and occasionally, a biplane from the newly built Bowman Field would actually land on the long straight flat areas near “The Harbor”. Sadly, world events would bring an abrupt end to this rousing scene.
THE WAR YEARS
Dec 7, 1941 changed everything forever. Gone was the innocence and optimism of a generation that had emerged from The Great Depression. Gone were the crowds of holiday revelers. In its place was a city transformed overnight to a war footing. land previously acquired at great effort for parks and public space was enlisted into the war effort. Petrochemical and commodity terminals now filled “The Point” and merged with the existing downtown industry.
With wartime austerity and gas rationing, there was little future for the masses in an unpatriotic, gas guzzling pastime such as power boating. Only the wealthy and well connected could afford the pleasures and respite that cruising the river offered. Even this indulgence was interrupted and The Harbor besieged by major flooding in 1943 (33ft).
Unfortunately, the prevailing NE winds soon brought the smell and noise of the war effort to the hand built luxury cruisers and houseboats. If this was not bad enough, Beargrass Creek was steadily delivering the waste and pollution of the packing plants and Butchertown industry to the docks that were once “the place to be”.
Just up the hill to the north, returning service men and unemployed wartime workers had created a new “Point” area called “The Flats”. This was a tough, forgotten part of town laying between The Harbor and Butchertown. The Harbor had now been effectively cut off from the social mainstream of Frankfort Avenue and St. Matthews.
In the early 50's a strange thing happened, the “River Rats” returned. They were now primarily, but not all, shore dwellers. Most had regular homes, jobs, and families. Their shanty boats were replaced by more modern vessels. Gone were the fine chauffeured automobiles and afternoon teas or the pre war elite. Now, modest coupes and pickup trucks would be seen delivering workingmen, and women, to their cold Oertels after a hard day at the plant. The Harbor had transformed into a working class neighborhood. On weekends, instead of going to their “country homes”, these regular folks would simply cast off, head upriver, and take their homes to the country. The modern day River Rats were back… maybe they had really never left.
THE CITY BOWS OUT
By 1956, The City of Louisville had all but abandoned The Harbor as too burdensome. The Dept of Parks and Recreation, who was responsible for its operation, seems to have lacked the will or the resources to manage the aging facility. In the face of municipal neglect, the newly formed Louisville Harbor Association entered into an agreement with The City to assume responsibility for day to day operations and maintenance. The LHA has acted as its sole steward ever since. Sadly, all of the original members have passed away and to date, much of the documentary evidence from this period has yet to come to light. What is known is The LHA stabilized The Harbor into a sustainable and thriving safe haven for river boaters who preferred the simple, proven, traditional ways. Their innovations and dedication have instilled a tradition of self sufficiency that continues to serve as their tribute. These hearty souls considered their vessels as an extension of their regular homes and spent most of their free time "knocking about on boats" and working on The Harbor.
By the early 60's The Harbor had survived seven major floods including three of the top 5 ever recorded. The original work had been of such high quality that although it was still structurally sound, it was beginning to show its age. The LHA decided to update using more moderns materials. Demolition of the original seawalls was out of the question. This would have caused the shoreline and the Harbor Island to collapse into the river.
The original plan by Capt. Alan Bates, MA and former Captain of The Belle of Louisville, called for the installation of steel sheet piling. It is not know exactly why the plan changed, but the final solution performed by Capt. G. W. McBride, was to drive steel I beams along the shoreline and around the Harbor Island and lay in pre-stressed concrete sections. On their own, this would not have been sufficient to stabilize the shoreline, but with the reliable 1935 seawalls and their concrete encased steel tie rods doing most of the work; this ingenious solution has survived to this day with minimal maintenance.
In the early 60's the 1964 flood crest of 41.20 ft. ( the 4th highest on record) made for some interesting situations. Marine Sales and Service , the major local boat dealer at the time, was originally on 2nd Ave. during the '64 flood, the vessels on the showroom floor were actually floated out the front door and driven to The Harbor and moored with the Winter fleet. It seems The Harbor was often the only safe haven when the mighty Ohio flexes her muscles.
If the '64 flood wasn't bad enough, the federal annexation of the I-64 corridor and subsequent razing of Thurston Park further isolated the area. Before long, most Louisville citizens didn't even know it even had a Municipal Harbor and it disappeared from the community radar screen. With the exception of happily accepting the yearly rent. The City of Louisville also turned a blind eye.
The LHA now had a proper headquarters. Of course, The City soon had a grand scheme to lease the property to a developer as an upscale restaurant and the LHA was evicted. The plan failed and The City refused to allow the LHA its continued use. Louisville's first officially sponsored riverfront development scheme would ultimately have a very negative effect. It wasn't long till vagabonds occupied and torched the place. Its stabilized shell is listed on The National Register of Historic Places. It stands today as a monument to official neglect and poor municipal judgment.
THE QUIET YEARS
By the 70's and 80's, the members now had the expertise and the equipment to efficiently perform the Herculean tasks necessary for sustainable harbor operations. For those willing accept the blighted surroundings, relentless mud, and constant vigilance traditional fixed docks demanded, it remained accessible to the average boat owner as the best value on the river. This gave access to the river to the average family who would otherwise never have been able to afford such an financially demanding hobby and fueled a robust local recreational boating economy. Indeed it became more of a lifestyle than a hobby and most who joined stayed on indefinitely. The Harbor was always full from June thru October and the wait for a slip was often measured in years.
Although most owners in the area are very knowledgeable and skilled, some are less than expert. Members often help others after a minor groundings or sometimes not so minor calamity. The appearance of the occasional "marina queen" from the floating marinas upriver was a constant source of amusement and sometimes irritation. The inexperienced owners often found themselves limping into The Harbor with their "captains" hat in their hands. They were always given a cordial if less than enthusiastic welcome and given whatever assistance they needed to return to their home berths.
By 1985, affordable dock space was again at a premium and The Harbor was one of the few remaining affordable river homes for many area boaters. The exception was the Jeffersonville IN shore. It was lined with houseboats of every possible description but this was soon to end. About this same time, most of these traditional houseboaters were informed they would have to move to make way for redevelopment. This was to be the first battle of development vs. the boaters. The boaters were powerless in the face of their better financed and organized foes and were soon forced out. Condos and restaurants were eventually built and the well kept fixed docks on the Indiana shore soon crumbled and disappeared. It seems the River Rats were once again an endangered species. The Harbor was now one of the last bastions of the traditional ways.
Unfortunately, rising fuel and maintenance costs began to take a toll on the boating community and The Harbor. It became increasingly difficult to maintain The Harbor with available revenues. The Harbor had previously had several full time employees including a caretaker and a maintenance person, but they were soon released and many chores were outsourced on an as needed basis. To make up for the shortfall in resources, the members were forced to take on an increasing load.
THE MODERN ERA
Despite the difficulties modern times presented, The Harbor continued to flourish. A little run down and a little tired, plans were made to begin sprucing the place up and major improvements were planned... but things were about to change... again.
Historically, the Ohio River had consistently and definitively rejected any and all attempts at residential development in the area. Just the same, in 1989, Louisville and the recently formed Waterfront Development Corporation secured commitments from a "preferred developer" to build Falls Harbor... a residential development. The Harbor was to be modernized and updated, and the current managers, The LHA, would continue to operate a revitalized Harbor much as before.
In 1994, Louisville Waterfront Park Phase I was completed and the USACE finally authorized construction of Falls Harbor. It had taken 5 years to overcome the regulatory challenges and negotiate an acceptable settlement. Unfortunately for the developer, the flood of 1997 (39.17 ft) underscored the wisdom of the far-sighted 1935 decision to reserve the area for parkland and public green space. Financing dried up, and the diminishing quality of the development soon compelled the city to cancelled the agreement. By 1999 the project had died on the vine.
The '97 flood was truly a horrific event. and the winter fleet rose to the level of the electric lines on the Harbor Island... Winter fleet was the mooring of vessels in a large group in the inner harbor with steel vessels at the front as a defense against the winter and spring floods.
After taking inventory of the situation and working feverishly to clear the Harbor for the 1998 boating season, the LHA decided the risk to life and property of maintaining the winter fleet was just too great and the practice was discontinued. The onset of Winter now saw owners forced to move their vessels to the much more expensive private marinas upriver. This was another major setback to the Harbor as it increased the personal financial strain on the members and cut yearly revenue by a sizeable percentage; no winter fleet... no winter income.
Ten years of adversity and uncertainty had taken a toll on The Harbor. Since no one could be sure what was going to happen year to year, and keeping a large river cruiser accommodated takes long range planning, many boat owners could not wait for the Aldermen to decided what was going to happen next. Some members began moving to less controversial surroundings. As time passed, membership dropped, and money for maintenance and infrastructure became even tighter. It seems to be a bewildering fact of life that whenever a municipality strives to "reconnect" with the river, the folks that use, understand, and love it the most... the traditional boaters, are the victims. Uninformed governmental meddling meant to improve and enhance the recreational boating infrastructure of the area had in fact grievously harmed the very constituency it had been meant to help.
The next governmental initiative occurred in 2003-04. Under the leadership of Mayor Dave Armstrong, a deal was proposed to give Nugent Sand some of the former Thruston Park for a small upscale residential development in exchange for Towhead Island. The Island would be turned into a nature preserve along with the remaining land.
Although this proposal would probably have been the best for them, the LHA was bound by conscience, community service , and a unique familiarity with Towhead and the immediate area to step forward. They respectfully pointed out that the proposal would trade valuable public land for an island that was washing away. Of course this came as a shock to everyone else and effectively quashed the plan. It was now hoped The LHA could get back to boating, rebuild the membership, and work to update The Harbor. . . Of course this would not be the case.
In late 2004, WDC announced they had once again found a "preferred developer" to build what was to be known as RiverPark Place. As the plan progressed and rapidly grew in size and scope, The LHA and others became increasingly alarmed at the lack of public inclusion in the planning process. In spite of the lessons of the past, WDC was to proceed unilaterally and the boaters would once again be the victims.
To make way for this development and after absolutely no collaboration or negotiation on the future of The Harbor, on Oct. 21 2005, the LHA was formally notified that their lease would not be renewed. After 50 years of service to The City of Louisville and it's citizens, the boaters that make up the Louisville Harbor Association were to be turned out with one month's notice. This was at best a callous and insensitive abuse of these loyal citizens.
Fortunately, the federally mandated restrictions and certifications meant to assure public safety and safeguard historic, archaeological, religious, environmental, and public interest concerns have once again stalled the project... due in part to the justifiable concerns of community advocates and members of the LHA. The insurmountable problems encountered in 1989-99 still rule the day and it seems the lure of quick profit and self interest has resulted in a monumental case of governmental amnesia.
THE FUTURE
To
be determined...
UNDER CONSTRUCTION
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These
include The University of Louisville School of Law and Speed Scientific
School, The Iroquois Amphitheater, and expansion of Bowman Field
including major additions to the Administration Building. 
Soon, a new type of
vessel appeared. These were predecessors of the houseboats of today. Self
propelled and often magnificently appointed, they were a direct descendent of
the previously reviled shanty boats. Moored in a protected area or to a wharf
boat year round, they would rise and fall at the pleasure of the river’s
seasonal moods in relative safety. Rather than traveling to a summer home,
these inland “yachtsmen” now had easy use of their floating cottages to
relax in the company of friends and family. The various related activities
soon outstripped the facilities available to cater to them. By 1930, suitable
moorings were becoming scarce. 
The ingenious design with its dual
protective islands and downriver slanted interior docks made every possible
concession to minimize the river’s annual delivery of tons of debris and
silt. The lay along berths of The Harbor Island were parallel to the often
vicious current
and allowed the secure mooring of large deeper draft vessels. To ease in
the access and provisioning of these vessels, a robust bridge able to support
wagons, carts, and other small conveyances was built to connect the harbor
island to the shore. 
The City eventually repaired and reopened the
again renamed Louisville Municipal Boat Harbor under the jurisdiction of The
Louisville Parks and Recreation Board. The area became tremendously popular. 
On Mar 8 1945, The Ohio River again ravaged the area with the 2nd highest flood crest ever recorded,
42.10 feet. Many of the wealthier boat owners had had enough and began to move to the more gentile environs of the
boating clubs and elite riverside moorings upriver. Although recently finished
Thruston Park with it's magnificent fountain and playing fields had completed
the early goals of converting the entire area into a public recreational
asset, The Harbor was left to
those willing to endure the stench. A catastrophic freeze and another major
flood in 1948 (36 ft) sealed its fate. Things at 1200 River Road were much
more uncertain than in the heady days of the late 1930’s.
Sometime during this period, The LHA managed to acquire use of another
neglected municipal property now know as Paget House. It was the last
remaining Victorian mansion on Fulton Street and was promptly renamed The
Riverview Boat Club. 
The Harbor had also become the only actively managed way station for
transient boaters in the Louisville Area. Many boats coming and going from
distant home ports would stop and enjoy the hospitality and inexpensive overnight mooring The Harbor offered.
It was not unusual for a retired
cruising couple to stop and stay a few days to re-provision or do necessary
repairs on their way and to or from The Gulf or The Great Lakes. This was
aided by easy access to Marine Sales and Service, Arnolds, and
other nearby maintenance resources. The harbor
members would help in any way they could, after all, there was no organized governmental safety net or river rescue service in those
days... the
boating community had to take care of their own.
Some
of the more dedicated members actually rode the flood out on their
vessels and fought to keep them and those of others secure. When the
river finally returned to it's banks, The flow and velocity had been so
great, a large portion of the Nugent Sand inventory had swept downstream
into The Harbor. This can still be seen covering The Harbor
Island. 