SS United States: Now Eternally at Home
SS United States: Now Eternally at Home
—- David Eugene Perry
At 10 years old I touched the SS United States and she touched me back. In 1972, my Pop pulled up our boat between “America’s Flagship” and the aircraft carrier “John F. Kennedy” both berthed near their birthplace, Newport News Virginia. We had driven the hour and a half from our home in Richmond to cast our poles in the Chesapeake Bay: a not uncommon trip. My father knew schools of fish gathered around large hulls. In those pre 9/11 days, pulling up our modest Glasspar between the largest American-built vessels was not challenged. As I recall, my father caught a bunch. I caught ship fever. I was hooked more than our cooler full of perch.
From July 3, 1952 on her maiden voyage to November 14, 1969 when she was withdrawn from service, SS United States was the Blue Riband holder for fastest liner crossing of the Atlantic, a record held to the present day and never to be challenged. The mid century modern masterpiece of legendary naval architect William Francis Gibbs, who made the cover of TIME magazine for his achievement, was the pride of a post war nation.
Post WWII, however, was Cold War America, and the SS United States was designed to quickly be converted into troopship duties. Her just-shy-of-1000-feet in length meant potential transit through the Panama Canal for Pacific non-pacific deployment. Her near 40 knot speed approached navy destroyers. The Revel model I instantly built following my first glimpse of her had a flat bottom: her ‘neath the waterline curves considered a national security secret. She was, literally, a femme fatale.
The Cold War never got hot and the SS United States peacefully and profitably transported over a million pampered passengers during 400 voyages with nary an accident nor incident more serious than touching up the paint on her speed scarred bows. Hollywood loved her — on screen in such movies as “Bon, Voyage” and in cabin with her many celebrity guests (London, too: the former King Edward VIII and Wallis Simpson, pugs in tow were regulars) — as did Madison Avenue. Generations of ad campaigns featured her as the iconic star she was and is, burnishing their brands with the glow off her gleaming decks.
Fast as she was, however, the greatest ship ever built by her namesake, couldn’t beat progress. Three days at sea couldn’t compete with six hours by air. After retirement, the SS United States got shuffled around, sold, bought, sold and bought again until finally purchased in 2011 by the noble nonprofit SS United States Conservancy, headed by her designer’s granddaughter, Susan Gibbs. For the last 13 years, Gibbs and her team, literally, kept afloat “The Big U” but always with the preservation of her legacy on the foredeck. Plans for modernization into an oceangoing vessel once more or conversion into a hotel, conference center and museum — all though meticulously researched — couldn’t weather our post-pandemic world and financial realities. Shortly, she will take her final above-water voyage, under tow, to become the world’s largest artificial reef off the coast of Florida. I fully anticipate a moving parade of ships escorting her down the East Coast as she proceeds.
In 1998, I worked my way around the world by ship, and the last 25 years have returned to sea to lecture on maritime history and the “Golden Age” of ocean travel. The SS United States always figures prominently. It is often said by mariners that all ships end up at one of two places: the breakers or beneath the waves. It’s a maxim William Francis Gibbs would have understood.
For the ship whose cool, seductive touch inspired my life of salty love, “beneath the waves” means a dignified eternity. I look forward to touching the SS United States again, this time in a scuba suit, where millions of fish, coral dwellers and — eventually millions of human visitors — will be inspired by her beauty, history and the land based museum near where she will be reefed. Long live America’s flagship. I think William Francis would approve.
