60 for 60: Cardboard, Courage, and a Little Bit of Chaos

It started, as many great traditions do, with a problem and a bit of daring.

In the early 2000s, David Jeans and his colleagues were trying to reimagine science education. Too many students were opting out after chemistry, deterred by the math-heavy path. So they built something new: a physics class rooted in concepts, collaboration, and curiosity. But they didn’t just want a class, they wanted an experience. “There was a teacher here named Dr. Nunes,” Jeans recalls, “and we wanted to do a project that went along with that, a big project. And so it was born in 2003.”

That “big project” would become one of the most beloved traditions on campus: the Cardboard Boat Races.

The first race was, by all accounts, unforgettable, for reasons both good and questionable. Boats were built entirely on campus using cardboard and super glue, and when race day arrived, so did the entire school. “We had 700 to 1000 people every period. It was chaos,” Jeans said. “By the end of the day, you could grab the water and feel the glue.” It was loud, crowded, and chemically questionable. Administrators had a simple review: it was incredible, and it could never happen like that again.

So it didn’t. It evolved.

Within a year, super glue gave way to duct tape. Spectators were limited to parents, faculty, and staff. A debris box, donated annually by a De La Salle alumnus and a local waste company, kept cleanup under control. What began as a near disaster became a refined tradition, still creative and energetic, but now sustainable.

At its core, the project remains deceptively simple: build a boat out of cardboard and one roll of duct tape. It can’t exceed eight feet in any direction, it must be human-powered, and it must float. But behind that simplicity is a full unit on fluid dynamics. Students calculate buoyancy, displacement, and load capacity. They test, fail, redesign, and test again. Early on, many boats didn’t make it past the first few seconds. “In the beginning, kids would get in it and fall through it right away,” Jeans said.

Now, iteration is part of the culture. Students build multiple versions, testing them in pools on their own time. “They’ll send me videos at like 2 a.m.,” said Jeans. “Failure, success, and then they redo it.” On average, teams construct two or three boats before race day. What they’re really building, though, is resilience, the understanding that failure is part of the process, not the end of it.

For Jeans, the races were never just about physics. “We wanted a bigger project that was team building,” he said. And that’s exactly what it became. Students source materials, manage timelines, adapt to weather, and problem-solve in real time. They name their boats, dress in costumes, and chase records. “The excitement in the kids’ faces… they get it, they’re fired up! It’s just phenomenal.”

Some boats sink instantly. Others glide. The best ever completed 47 laps in 15 minutes. That standout team, four Carondelet students, powered their way to 44 laps in just 11 minutes before exhaustion set in, completing three more laps in the final four minutes. At that level, it’s no longer just engineering, it’s endurance.

For seniors, the Cardboard Boat Races have become something more than a competition. They are a culmination. “It’s like a capstone project,” Jeans said. “A month-long project that takes a little bit and it lasts 15 minutes. It just leads up to this crescendo.” That crescendo carries something deeper than victory or defeat. It’s shared effort, late nights, trial and error, and the quiet satisfaction of something built, and often rebuilt, together.

Over the years, the impact has stretched far beyond the pool deck. One participant of the storied 47-lap boat went on to study civil engineering at the University of Notre Dame and later became a project manager connected to the construction of the Salesforce Tower. Others carry the memory differently, not as a career path, but as one of their favorite moments of high school.

Now held in the winter and refined through more than two decades, the Cardboard Boat Races have endured for 23 years, making it one of De La Salle’s longest-standing academic traditions. The chaos is gone, but the spirit remains: a little risk, a lot of creativity, and a community willing to try something bold.

“It’s definitely a story.”

And like any good one, it holds up, year after year, long after the boats have sunk.