Farewell to the SS United States

Updated on February 19, 2025

“A look inside the world’s fastest liner S.S. United States. United States Lines.” Fold-out brochure, 9″ x 31.5″, ca. 1955. Zoom in on this ship cross-section to see some of the same details shown in the photograph pairs below. *(Source of brochure and menu: Adam Levine, via Pat Jagodzinski)*

For a long time I have had a brochure and a menu from the SS United States, which still holds the record for the fastest transatlantic crossing, set during its maiden voyage in 1952. In those days, with commercial air travel still in its infancy, travelers to Europe usually went by ship, sometimes in so-called “luxury liners” like the United States.

For a long time I have meant to post these items on this site, since the ship, for many years, has been docked on the Delaware River in South Philadelphia, awaiting the next chapter in its life. Last weekend I met self-described “history gadabout” Robert Morbeck at (where else?) an open house of a local historical society. We got to talking, and Robert related the story of his recent tour of the United States—or as his pictures below will attest, the shell of it. I asked him to write up something about this tour, and his illustrated story begins under the menu.

Robert carefully matched his photos with vintage images, creating before and after pairs that show the ship in its heyday, and as it was when he saw it last August, with only ghostly remnants of the appointments it once had. The United States now awaits a new fate—under, instead of on top of, the water, as Robert’s essay will explain.

For more information, or to contribute to the museum that is planned to commemorate this iconic ship, visit the website of the SS United States Conservancy.

“A look inside the world’s fastest liner S.S. United States. United States Lines.” Souvenir fold-out brochure, 9″ x 31.5″, ca. 1955.

The cover of a souvenir menu for a “Gala Dinner” on the SS *United States* on September 19, 1955

The meal included delicacies such as beluga caviar and lobster a la Newburg, and more prosaic food like butter pecan ice cream and roast chicken.

My Second Time on the SS United States

Story and photographs by Robert Morbeck

In July 2024 I got a call from my friend and fellow history gadabout, Beth, alerting me to an opportunity to tour the SS United States. The tour’s cost–a $250 dollar donation to the SS United States Conservancy (www.ssusc.org)–at first put me off. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this was a small amount to pay for what might turn out to be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to tour the ship–and a final chance as well, since it was soon set to depart on its final voyage.

The Bridge (*Modern photograph by Robert Morbeck*)

Launched in 1952, the S.S. United States was the gold standard for transatlantic travel. On her maiden voyage from New York to Le Havre, France she made the crossing in a record 3 days, 10 hours, and 40 minutes, earning the prestigious Blue Riband award. Her powerful steam turbines allowed her to maintain a speed of over 38 knots.

Beth and I both booked the same tour, and on a very hot August 3^rd we rendezvoused with our guides in the South Philadelphia Lowe’s parking lot and then crossed over Columbus Boulevard to Pier 82. The legendary liner has been stranded here since 1996 after a series of ownership changes. Its days as a transatlantic carrier ultimately became doomed by improvements in jet travel. Since 2009 the Conservancy has been soliciting funds to avoid scrapping the ship, but the current plan is for Okaloosa County, Florida to take possession and, by 2026, sink her in the Gulf of Mexico near the resort town of Destin, creating the world’s largest artificial reef.

First and cabin class theater (*Modern photograph by Robert Morbeck*)

I was thrilled to be able to inform the tour group that this was actually my SECOND time aboard the “Big U”. In the week before the tour my sister, after doing some Internet sleuthing, discovered that the ship we remembered boarding in 1960 to “see off” some of our neighbors in New York City was, indeed, the SS United States. I remember being on the pier that day—May 12, 1960—and seeing all the ships on “liner row” along Manhattan’s West Side, but as I was not even five years old I have few other specific memories of the ship.

The tour in August, led by an knowledgeable marine engineer, included about a dozen people. Several were conservancy volunteers, including the indefatigable Susan Gibbs, granddaughter of the big ship’s architect, William Francis Gibbs. We were issued flashlights and bottles of water for our half day journey into history, and then boarded the ship.

First Class dining room (*Modern photograph by Robert Morbeck*)

The tour took us practically everywhere! We first descended a series of stairs down into the multistory forward engine room where we saw both boilers and the gigantic steam turbines which turned the propellers, as well as a plethora of electrical panels filled with switches and dials that distributed power throughout the entire vessel. On our way back up topside we stopped at the ship’s swimming pool. Like most liners of its day, the United States boasted three classes: First, Cabin, and Tourist. I believe only First and Cabin Class were afforded swimming privileges.

I should point out that the ship has been totally stripped of its interiors. Furnishings were purportedly sold off in 1984 and the ship was brought to Turkey for asbestos removal in anticipation of its eventual re-use as a Cruise Ship rather than a transatlantic carrier. One of the most interesting stories our guide told us was how the asbestos removal process actually occurred in the Ukraine; after the fall of the Soviet Union all surviving nations were so desperate for cash they would do practically anything for money—no doubt with little regard for worker safety.

First Class cabin (*Modern photograph by Robert Morbeck*)

Our guide told us that what’s left of the steel/aluminum superstructure is in excellent shape. He pointed out the original state-of-the-art marine paint used inside has held up well over the years, though the paint on the outside is a different story, where we had earlier marveled at the peeling paint on her hull. The north side is in much better shape than the south side due to prevailing Philadelphia weather conditions over the last 28 years.

The north side of the ship (left) compared to the south side, on which the paint jobs is more deteriorated. *(Photographs by Robert Morbeck)*

In all the public rooms we looked into on our way aft, we saw numerous electrical conduits emerging from the floor. Fireproofing was an important part of the ship’s design, and these conduits would have housed the wiring for electric lamps provided for every table in the cabins, dining rooms and lounges, eliminating the need for candles or other flame-based forms of illumination. Designer Gibbs even wanted Steinway to create an unburnable aluminum piano for the First Class lounge, but the piano company ran a test to prove that their traditional model, while made of wood, was still quite fireproof.

Swimming pool (*Modern photograph by Robert Morbeck*)

As we walked along, we could make out where partitions once had been that separated the space into individual cabins. One of those cabins was known as the “Duck Suite,” made famous by the Duke and Duchess of Windsor. He abdicated the throne of Great Britain in 1936, after being king less than a year, so he could marry the American divorcée, Wallis Simpson. They thumbed their collective noses at their native Cunard Line, which included the luxury liner Queen Mary, preferring to travel in a US flag carrier.

As our tour continued toward the stern, we were continually reminded that this ship was mostly used for transportation (often in cold winter weather) rather than cruising, with fewer passenger amenities as a modern party ship plying warmer waters–but there was a swimming pool on board, and at the very rear of the ship there still is a large shuffleboard platform.

We made our way back up to the bow mostly above the decks, passing the distinctive, slanted aluminum smokestacks, which were revolutionary in the industry at the time. Using so much aluminum above the water line made the ship much less top heavy and allowed her to reach higher speeds with the same amount of power. But many of the ship’s innovations worked against it in the long run. The United States government was involved in its design and operation, and insisted on multiple engine rooms, a stronger hull and various other safeguards that would have allowed it to be used as a troop transport in time of war, but once the massive yearly Federal subsidy to the United States Lines was discontinued, the die was cast. Two engine rooms required twice as many operating engineers. Just like in the aerospace industry, modern models are much more fuel efficient and better suited to modern markets.

First Class ballroom. (*Modern photograph by Robert Morbeck*)

The Conservancy desperately tried to save the storied behemoth, but the future of the ship as a submerged reef seems finally to have come to fruition. Last year a court gave the Conservancy an eviction notice, after a long-running dispute with the owner of the pier, which seemed to hammer the final nail into the great liner’s time in Philadelphia. If I ever visit her again, I may have to don scuba gear to do it.