Don’t Weep For the S.S. United States…She Still Lives On…
I’m a lover of ocean liners; always have been. Ever since the discovery of the Titanic at the bottom of the ocean in 1985, as a child, I became fascinated by these beautiful creations that helped shape our nation, bring countries and continents together, and were instrumental players during two world wars, carrying munitions, supplies, and troops back and forth across the Atlantic, much as they did during the decades of peace. They were floating, self-sustaining cities…and floating palaces...on the outside, marvels of the latest maritime engineering of the day; inside, these wonderful vessels were lavishly decorated with exotic and expensively carved hardwoods, marble, gold and silver…Axminister carpets and crystal chandeliers adorned the large public rooms of first and second class accommodations, evoking a feeling of luxury. Ocean liners meant different things to different people; to the countless number of steerage passengers in the bowels of the hull who provided the shipping companies with their real revenue, these ships were a beacon of hope, a promise of a better life and fresh start in a new land. For the wealthy travelers on the upper decks, they were a posh way to travel to and from Europe for business and pleasure; glamorous homes away from home. In fact, “Posh” became an acronym during the heyday of ocean liner travel, symbolizing “Port Out, Starboard Home.” Ocean travel, and the liners themselves, changed over the years, especially between the two world wars and the passing of the Immigration Act of 1924, which set limitations on the number of persons who could enter the United States each year. This new law severely regulated the booming immigrant trade the transatlantic shipping companies had relied on for the brunt of their profits, effectively eliminating third class, or “steerage” passengers. The liners had to find a way to reinvent themselves to survive; the new “tourist class” was born, offering budget-minded travelers an opportunity to travel in a much less expensive way than the upper crust. It also provided thirsty Americans the ability to enjoy alcohol, after the passing of the Prohibition Act of 1919. Americans may have been forced to become teetotalers while on shore, but twelve miles out to sea, everyone was able to relax with a drink. Many liners crossed over the Atlantic, and many became immortalized in history because of their speed, size, beauty, or in the case of the magnificent Normandie, the greatest liner ever built, all three. Names like Mauretania, Lusitania, France, Imperator, Olympic, Île de France, Bremen, Rex, and of course, the two queens, Mary and Elizabeth, were the darlings of the Atlantic, summoning daydreams of adventure and romance. Even today, Cunard has kept the romance alive with Queen Mary 2, the last liner designed and built to cross the Atlantic, and her smaller, sister ships, used for cruising the world to beautiful destinations. After all, “Getting there is half the fun.”
The S.S. United States was born out of necessity, a direct response to the end of WWII, and built during the early years of the Cold War; fearing that a WWIII could be on the horizon, America, which until then had no true ocean liner of its own, decided it needed one. Many ships had flown the US flag before, but they were always liners given to the United States as compensation for losses during both world wars; we never had built and sailed a liner that we, as a country, could boast as being completely American. Because the liners of the past had proven so useful during wartime, the US government decided America’s first ship would be built with the ability to convert to a troop ship; built in Newport News, Virginia, the S.S. United States was to be the best…the most technologically advanced, and certainly the fastest, liner ever constructed. Because the Pentagon was underwriting most of the cost, no expense was spared in the “troopship” part of her design; the vessel had double everything…two plumbing systems, two electrical systems, two engine rooms, in case she was ever torpedoed; she was constructed primarily of aluminum, not steel, to make her lighter and faster. Her top speed was a remarkable 43 knots, although for most of her commercial career, in order to maintain the same schedules as other liners crossing the Atlantic, she sailed at a respectable 30-32 knots. The S.S. United States was the last liner to win the Hales Trophy and the Blue Ribband record for speed crossing the Atlantic, and to this day, still holds the distinctive title. Designed by renowned naval architect William Francis Gibbs, the United States WAS impressive, on any scale, and by any means.
But…she had her issues, too.
In previous decades, many liners had been the victim of fires, the French ships, in particular. The S.S. United States would never be a victim of fire; everything that went into the liner…and I mean everything…was fireproofed. This made her incredibly safe, but also much less luxurious. Her Mid-Century Modern interiors, already sleek in design, failed to dazzle you with opulence. Fabrics, curtains, furniture, even the oil paintings, were fireproofed, or made of fireproof materials. Beautiful, heavily grained woods were substituted with fiberglass, linoleum, and chrome. Her interiors were impressive, but lacked the warmth of other pre-war ocean liners what she was competing against. The only wood to be found on the entire ship was the butcher’s block down in the galley. Even the grand piano was constructed of aluminum, and only after it’s sound was determined to be inferior, was a wood piano considered. A mahogany Steinway was doused with gasoline and set ablaze; when it didn’t burn, an identical instrument was allowed. Despite her lack of warmth, she was nevertheless popular, and when launched in 1952, her future seemed promising.
All eras come to an end, as time, and progress, marches on. In 1957, the first passenger-carrying airplane from New York landed in London; after that, it seemed as if the great ocean liners still in service began to disappear, one by one. Within ten years, both Queen Elizabeth and Queen Mary, were retired. By 1969, the end also came for the S.S. United States. She had simply become too expensive to maintain, her passenger numbers were dropping drastically due to airliner travel, and even cruising voyages were unable to turn enough profit to sustain the large liner. Her service life on the water lasted only seventeen years.
Between 1969 and 2024…fifty-five years…the S.S. United States saw several new owners, all with ideas of how to resurrect the liner and return her to the seas for productive service. However, as the years dragged on, the ship, despite it’s futuristic construction and seemingly impervious materials, eventually began to deteriorate. At some point, a 990 foot superliner becomes too costly to save. Many attempts were made, but in the meantime, the carrying costs of the liner were huge; in 1984, the ship was stripped of her furnishings and décor, and an auction was held, the proceeds used to sustain the cost of the ship docked in Newport News. In the 1990’s another owner had ideas of converting her into a cruise ship, and the S.S. United States was towed to Türkiye, and then Ukraine, to have the tons of fireproof but harmful asbestos removed from her interiors; it had been used extensively in the interior, so in order to make the vessel environmentally and human-safe, most of the interior had to be stripped down to the bulkheads, with only a skeleton footprint of the spaces, remaining. Eventually, the ship made its way back to America, and her final home became pier 82 in Philadelphia Harbor in 1996, where she continued to deteriorate, albeit in an imposing but graceful manner. The S.S. United States Conservatory purchased her that same year, and until 2024, worked tirelessly to raise monies for both her pier rental fees and other carrying costs, as well as raise interest and awareness for the liner’s plight, in the hopes she would be saved and repurposed. Many envisioned a similar fate for her as what became of the Queen Mary and QE2; a floating hotel and conference center. Unlike the other liners, which did not endure decades of neglect and remained primarily intact, the S.S. United States was just too risky of an investment to make; it was estimated that restoration and conversion of her into a useful element to the city could run upwards of $1billion to forge into reality. In 2021, the company who owned and operated Pier 82 raised the monthly rent on the S.S. United States from $850 to $1700 a month; this began yet another long, legal battle for the ships survival. Finally, in September 2024, after a dispute between the Conservatory and Pier 82 went to the courts, the S.S. United States was ordered evicted from the pier. Panicked, last minute scrambling began to find a new home for the liner. Unfortunately, all attempts failed, and it was announced in late 2024 the ship would be sold, towed south, and sunk off the coast of Florida to become the world’s largest artificial reef.
On February 19, 2025, the S.S. United States, the fastest liner ever built, and once the pride of America on the seas, began her journey south, being pulled by four tugs. For the last several years, I have followed the ambitious and tireless work by the Conservatory to save the ship, and, like so many others, hoped she would be saved; a few years ago, I realized it just could never happen; it would take a miracle, and since those are hard to come by these days, I began to make peace with the fact the superliner would, at some point, find its way to the scrapyard or the bottom of the ocean. As terrible of a fate as it seems, I believe the most honorable thing to do is what will be done; to sink her whole, into the waters she once served…a Viking’s funeral. Still sad to comprehend, at least this way, the ship will be spared the horror of being dismantled, piece by piece. At least, as an artificial reef, the S.S. United States will continue to serve, but in a different way; she will help create habitats for marine life, while protecting coastlines and increasing biodiversity.
So…don’t weep for the S.S. United States. For decades, she languished unused, unnecessary, and neglected; her beautiful black and white livery and proud red, white, and blue funnels faded and rusted in the weather. As impressive as she still appeared docked in Philadelphia, it was disheartening, too; an embarrassing plight for such a proud liner. Finally, she will be given the respect she deserves and the dignity affording a ship of state, with a final resting place and even more importantly, a purpose, again. Fair winds, and following seas, to you…
