Posted on Friday, May 7, 2010 by Peter Knego
It was a seemingly normal Friday morning this past April 16, when I settled in with fresh cup of roast and began to browse my e-mails. Business as usual until a friend from San Francisco wrote, “Hi Peter, One of those great two stack military ships from Suisuin Bay just arrived outside my office for drydock, I’ll get some photos and send them to you. Hope you are well, James.”
My barely caffeinated jaw unhinged and shattered the desk. Surely, he was mistaken, for the last P2 transports — those wonderful twin funneled ocean liner prototypes built for World War two trooping duties — were not scheduled to leave the Suisuin Bay Reserve Fleet until midsummer. Just a few weeks prior, I had contacted the US Maritime Administration (MARAD) requesting to see them before their journey to Brownsville, TX, where they would be recycled.
The photo attached to James’ next e-mail verified which of the two vessels had arrived at BAE Systems’ drydock for cleaning of toxic paint from her keel before continuing onward to Brownsville. And, then, yes, as my surprised friend at MARAD soon confirmed, both P2s had been sold for scrap in March, much earlier than expected.
There was not much time to arrange a visit to our subject, the USNS GENERAL EDWIN D. PATRICK, which would be in San Francisco through April 29 (and could possibly depart sooner). I had a press trip scheduled the following week in the U.K. for the christening of the CELEBRITY EQUINOX and might miss her entirely if I did not act immediately. After some deliberation, I jumped into my car with a friend who was visiting from New York and raced up Interstate 5 to San Francisco, where another friend put us up for the weekend. Even without permission to visit the ship, I could at least get some photos and video from the basin across from the yard, should the PATRICK depart before I could return.
USNS GENERAL EDWIN D. PATRICK at San Francisco. U.S. Army photo -- public domain.
All Photos by and copyright Peter Knego 2010 unless otherwise noted. Please click on image for a larger version to appear.
I’ve always held a special fascination for the P2 transports — underneath their parched gray paint were the hulls and superstructures of undeniably handsome passenger ships. There were two types: the P2-S2-R2s, eleven of which were built in Kearny, New Jersey (more on those in another Sea Treks) and the P2-SE2-R1s, eight of which, including the PATRICK, were manufactured in Alameda, California. The long term goal was to introduce these vessels into needed troop and repatriation service and then possibly distribute them among U.S. passenger shipping lines in peace time, where they would be converted into bona fide liners. The inverse, of course, was that most U.S.-built liners were designed to serve as troopships, should the need arise.
For a number of economic and logistical reasons, only a handful of P2s were completed as liners or converted for civilian duty, the majority continuing in military service until being laid up in the late 1960s.
Wikipedia and a few other sites have done a fine job of detailing the histories of most of these ships, so I will just provide the basics about the PATRICK’s long career. She was built as the U.S. Army Transport ADMIRAL C.F. HUGHES by the Bethlehem-Alameda Shipyard and commissioned on January 31 1945. Ten of these ships were planned but only eight were completed as such. The war had ended by the time the ninth and tenth were underway and these were ultimately completed as American President Lines’ splendid PRESIDENT WILSON and PRESIDENT CLEVELAND. TV aficionados would know them from the “The Gale Storm Show” and film buffs can catch glimpses of the WILSON in the Sophia Loren/Marlon Brando yawner, “Countess From Hong Kong”.
The ADMIRALs were 608.9 feet long by 75.5 feet wide and drew 26.6 feet of water. They had twin screws driven by turbo-electric steam power plants capable of 19,000 shp for a service speed of 19 knots. These vessels were manned by a crew of 356 and capable of carrying 5,217 troops and 100,000 cubic feet of cargo. They also had 26 gun mounts to support a variety of defense weaponry.
The ADMIRAL C.F. HUGHES spent her first six months in Pacific duty, then made a voyage to Europe before returning to the Pacific. In June of 1946, she was decommissioned and renamed USAT GENERAL EDWIN D. PATRICK for the US Army Transport Service and returned to Pacific duties serving the West Coast, Hawaii and Asia. In 1950, she was transferred to the Navy’s Military Sea Transport Service (MSTS).
The PATRICK was in some respects a proper passenger liner as she carried families and dependents as well as troops. She had a promenade deck, lounges, a shop and dining rooms as well as cabins in addition to dormitory style accommodation.
She steamed until shortly after the escalation of the Viet-Nam War, when all military transport ceded to the airplane. In 1967, she was decommissioned and in 1968, placed in “ready reserve” at Suisuin Bay (near San Francisco). She remained laid up until her sale for scrap in March of 2010 and was moved to BAE Systems on April 15. Of all the ships in her class of transport (including the two PRESIDENT liners), she is/was the last to survive.
The USNS GENERAL EDWIN D. PATRICK as seen from Corona Heights Park, San Francisco. Photo and copyright Peter Knego 2010.
On Saturday, April 16, we waited until early afternoon for the right lighting before heading down the hill to document the PATRICK at BAE.
USNS GENERAL EDWIN D. PATRICK high and dry at BAE Systems, San Francisco.
The ship looked quite magnificent up in the air, her lower flanks hidden by the steel casing of the drydock. All this despite, or maybe even in a strange way, enhanced, by the patina of blistered gray paint and decades of unchecked rust dripping from her funnels, superstructure and upper hull. The contemporary of liners like AMERICA (1940), NIEUW AMSTERDAM (1938), the second MAURETANIA (1939) and even the QUEEN ELIZABETH (1940), her balanced profile shared some of the same sculpted elements.
But in most peoples’ eyes, she is/was a toxic, outmoded hunk of steel that needed remediation. As a matter of fact, she is the sixth dilapidated ghost ship to leave Suisuin Bay since October. She follows in the wake of the last four VICTORYs (WINTHORP, EARLHAM, RIDER and PAN AM) and the last T2 tanker (MISSION SANTA YNEZ), with another 35 or so scheduled for demolition by 2012. Bay Area residents who are not avowed shiplovers and preservationists have every right to rejoice over such decisively bold environmental action on the part of MARAD. And, by cleaning these doomed keels of their toxic lead-based paint in San Francisco, the purge provides some much-needed work for the yard and its contractors.
Without advance permission, it was impossible to get access to the yard, so I had to settle for the distant glimpses of the PATRICK before we returned to Los Angeles. I immediately put in a request with MARAD to see the ship when I returned from the UK on the 28th of April. I had also hoped to see her “undocking” on the 29th and subsequent tow out of the Bay to Brownsville. And since the other P2, the GENERAL JOHN S. POPE, was scheduled to be towed from Suisuin Bay to BAE on May 5, I would plan to stay in the hopes of visiting her and capturing her last transit through the brackish waters that have lapped at her forgotten hull for the past four decades.
That Icelandic volcano with the tongue-twisting name scrubbed my trip to the U.K. immediately after I returned to Los Angeles, so I packed the car and drove the 450 or so miles back up to San Francisco (this time along more scenic Highway 101) and literally watched the hills turn from yellow green to yellower green.
High and dry at BAE: USNS GENERAL EDWIN D. PATRICK.
MARAD had approved my request to see the ships but the process involved several steps that were still not completed. In the meantime, I made contact with an official at BAE who was kind enough to allow me access to the drydock but not on the ship, herself. The timing was fortuitous as the PATRICK was still in the air and the blasting work was finished. All paint and marine encrustation had been removed from the keel and drydock.
Name detail.
Twin screw view.
Real keel steel.
Ribs and fin.
Bow on the block(s).
USNS GENERAL EDWIN D. PATRICK at BAE Systems, San Francisco.
Walking underneath and even touching her ribbed and riveted plating was nothing short of spectacular: two huge screws overhead, arced keel fins, the fine contours of her bow and stern fully exposed. It was the last time this view would ever be seen and the lighting just happened to be perfect.
Anatomy of a classic American cruiser spoon stern.
Funnels in the clouds.
Arched wing.
And then a walk along the top of the dry dock for some parting views. There were so many photos and so much video that still needed to be taken but I am grateful for what I was allowed to do in the half hour or so provided.
Unfortunately, permission did not filter through the MARAD system in time, so that was my only up close encounter with the PATRICK. I will appeal to her breakers for a visit if I can get to Brownsville sometime in June.
8:00 AM, Thursday, April 29, 2010. Dock and ship fully afloat.
9:30 AM, Tuesday, April 29, 2010. Bottom of dock submerged.
10:15 AM, Thursday, April 29, 2010. Water touches keel.
10:45 AM, Thursday, April 29, 2010. Partially submerged for keel tests.
On Thursday, April 29, as scheduled, the USNS GENERAL EDWIN D. PATRICK was undocked. I watched from distant Pier 50 as the drydock was gradually lowered. At approximately 11:00 AM, after some three hours, the keel was only partially submerged so workers could inspect for any possible leaks.
Perfection profiled.
I returned at 2:00 PM as PATRICK was being nudged out of the drydock. She was not to leave for Brownsville until the following morning due to high winds off the coast of California.
Fine funnels in perspective.
The light got better and better as the ship was slowly maneuvered. Her profile had gone from back lit classic twin funneled silhouette to genuine, three dimensional, ribbed and rust-streaked liner. The apparition was edged by several tugs into a berth farther inside the yard. I would return the following day for her scheduled departure to the proverbial scaffolds of Brownsville.
USNS GENERAL EDWIN D. PATRICK remains tied up at BAE Systems, San Francisco on the morning of her first scheduled departure for Brownsville, TX. Photo and copyright Peter Knego 2010.
The tow was scheduled to depart between 9:00 and 10:00 on Saturday, May 1. I arrived at 8:15, expecting to find a battalion of tugs and an army of linesmen preparing the PATRICK for her final journey. But just a small local tug (not the type of vessel that could handle this large deep sea tow) lingered in a corner of the shipyard. It was obvious that the PATRICK’s departure had been postponed.
As I started to pack up the cameras, someone called my name. It was Frank Cleope, Jr., whose father was the executive chef of APL’s PRESIDENT CLEVELAND. Frank has been keeping track of the PATRICK, the prototype of the long-departed CLEVELAND and her sister, the PRESIDENT WILSON. He has kept his late father’s legacy alive with menus, post cards and APL ephemera as well as some old black and white photos of life on board the CLEVELAND before she was retired and sold overseas in 1973. He witnessed that ship’s final arrival under the Golden Gate and has since maintained contact with some of his father’s fellow staff and crew.
We joked that “all you had to do was blur your eyes” and magically, before us, was one of the two great American President Liners. A local photographer Barton Selby, also appeared and we all watched as that smaller, local tug sealed the PATRICK’s waterline in a protective yellow boon. The tow was not going anywhere, at least not immediately.
Trying to find out when a “dead” ship is due to depart on a weekend is not an easy task. I tried the Marine Exchange, the Pilot Association, the Coast Guard and finally obtained the name of the company handling the tow, Westar Marine. In my series of calls, I was referred to someone who would make the next Sea Trek possible — but more on that later.
Westar verified the departure was delayed until Monday due to 40 knot winds off the coast of California. Well, that gave me a chance to continue seeking a way to get access to the PATRICK. I called and e-mailed everyone I knew for their advice and to see if they had any contacts that might help persuade the powers at BAE to allow me on board. Unfortunately, no such luck, although I was heartened by all the support from my maritime friends.
Soaking up the San Francisco sun at BAE.
Late Sunday afternoon, I returned once more to capture the PATRICK in the best possible light before she left. She soaked up every drop of San Francisco’s brilliant sunshine on her last full day in home waters.
The following morning (Monday, May 3), I was back in position at 9:30, watching as the tug ALEXANDRA nudged herself against the PATRICK’s forepeak. Two tugs were alongside and another two were heading toward BAE from Pier 50. Linesmen scurried around the fo’c’sle as a crane lowered others onto the ship via a metal basket. Fumes and the rumble of diesel engines emanated from the backlit scene.
"Just blur your eyes..."
Frank Cleope, Jr. with a vintage APL brochure depicting his father, Frank Cleope, Sr.
Frank arrived with a fantastic collection of memorabilia from the PRESIDENT CLEVELAND, which we pored over. It was very moving to hear about his late father’s career and the obstacles a Filipino American man overcame in the 1950s to attain his status. Frank does his family legacy and shiplovers a great service by preserving these memories in such a dedicated way.
ALEXANDRA versus USNS GENERAL EDWIN D. PATRICK -- the tug of war begins!
And then, before we knew it, the PATRICK’s lines were loosened and she was slowly edging forward. My excitement was tinged with a bit of sadness that this scene would never be repeated and a dose of frustration that I literally “missed the boat” in having the chance to properly document those liner-like decks and interiors.
Underway...
Like an old cow being led to slaughter, the PATRICK seemed reluctant to proceed. She had a slight list to port, her nose in a futile struggle against the ALEXANDRA’s leash.
Approaching tow...
Frank and I hopped into our cars and raced up the waterfront to the next vantage spot. I thought Rincon Park would be the best place but the wide open expanse of Pier 32 was even better. We drove out to the end, parked, and waited as the convoy approached. Ironically, we were standing at what was left of the old Prudential-Grace Lines pier where the four SANTA combi-liners made their regular calls in the 1970s and early 1980s during their round-South America voyages. One, the SANTA MARIA, was the first ship I sailed in (I used to save my lunch money in junior high school so I could make the overnight voyage from Long Beach to San Francisco) and another, the SANTA MAGDALENA, was Frank’s father’s last ship.
Proud, if not downright "Presidential".
Eyes blurred once more, we watched as the reluctant ghost appeared, passing us with Alameda brightly lit behind her.
Gray ship to gray bridge.
Twin funnels under twin towers.
The northbound tow slowly slipped under the Bay Bridge, in every way the reverse of an iconic APL image of a sparkling southbound PRESIDENT liner at night.
Frank and I parted ways as he raced off to the Marina and I beamed myself toward the lookout point just east of the Golden Gate Bridge. Every stop light was met with a curse and a groan until I finally reached the spot, albeit with plenty of time to spare. As a matter of fact, the gusty conditions made me wonder if the tow might at some point turn back.
Off Tiburon and Angel Island for the final time.
Ever so slowly, PATRICK was nudged to the sea lanes north of Alcatraz, disappearing behind “The Rock” for several minutes and then struggled against the wind and currents to make a very slow passage through the far end of the Gate.
The divine "derelict" departs.
There were no fireboats or throngs of revelers for this passage into history, although a couple did stop to ask me why I was documenting “that derelict ship”. When I explained, they seemed to understand, lingering a while before rejoining their tour.
Turning south from Land's End.
Next stop, the western lookout to catch the ship with the cliffs of Marin behind her. She was going so slowly, I decided I could actually make it to Land’s End for the final views of her transit. From there, she passed Point Bonita light station and turned in a broad arc on a southbound course into a white-capped, green Pacific. A Coast Guard cutter bounced alongside, perhaps assessing the tow, then continued on its northbound course. After some three hours of chasing her from the tow’s starting point of BAE, my last view of the PATRICK was from the USS SAN FRANCISCO memorial, an ironic place to bid farewell to a ship that also did honorable service and touched many lives.
Next Stop: Brownsville?
Very special thanks: BAE Systems, Frank Cleope, Martin Cox, Dennis Deisinger, Rob Di Stefano, Esteban, Mary Ferlin, Erhard Kohler, Steve Perry, San Francisco Bay Pilots Association, Doug Satterblom, Randy Sautner, James Tagliani, US Coast Guard, Barbara Voulgaris, Westar Marine
End — Finalized May 9, 2010.
Jim Garnsey
February 15, 2011 at 5:53 pm
After 18 months in FASRON 118 at NAS Agana, I left the island aboard USNS General Edwin D. Patrict on August 16, 1952 and arrived at Treasure Island on August 28, 1952. During the time I was aboard, I worked in the butcher shop a couple of times a day. The last eveing aboard, the butcher-in-charge had the cooks prepare all the workers a special dinner. One of the best I ever had!
Dan
February 16, 2011 at 11:09 am
I guess that the SS United States is the last of the Troop Transport Ships, huh?
Jim Hutson
April 14, 2011 at 8:40 pm
My dad Rainey Hutson was shipped to Korea aboard this ship in 1965. We just realized tonight(4-14-2011) that his ship was scrapped last year, he thought it had long been gone. It’s been nice to hear him reminisce.
Sean Patrick Hamilton
May 8, 2011 at 10:14 pm
My Dad came home on the USN E.D. Patrick from Korea. He then named me after the ship. I decided to see what happened to it when I stumbled on this story. Wow I thought it was gone long ago. I was hoping you could send me any pictures you have to me. It would mean a lot to me. Thank you. Sean Hamilton
Bruce L Salisbury
June 22, 2011 at 8:53 pm
I SAILED on the General Patrick bound for Guam and enjoyed the trip. It was my first time away from the Colorado Rockies and a real adventure;
The “Ships Bell” from the Patrick was loaned to Home Lake Colorado a few years ago and is a central part of the “Colorado Korean Veterans Memorial”. When they received the bell it had 21 coats of white paint on it. For more information go online or contact Home Lake.
The remainder of the USN E. D.Patrick may be scrap but that “cruise ship” so many of us remember will not be forgotten.
Tony Pagliaro
July 12, 2011 at 5:49 am
Was a brat on board going fron San Francisco to Okinawa ( Kadena AFB) 1956-1959. Have color 8mm film om board, postcard photo and certificate for crossing 180 meridian on July 13, 1956 at Latiude 37 degrees 30′ N/ Longitude 180 00′ from the Golden Dragon. Trip was like 2 weeks.
Ken Wright
August 4, 2011 at 6:56 am
I made the trip as member of the Air Force around May,1956. I got the exact date on a card I got for crossing the I. date line. Took 14 days to arrive in Yokohama port. Most everyone was sick the first 3 days and throwing up all over the deck. After that it was a great trip. I was then stationed at Misawa AFB 1956-1960 in 49th Supply Sqdn.(Later changed to 6139th Supply).
Peter G.
January 5, 2012 at 8:37 pm
I sailed on the USS Patrick twice. Once in 1964 from Oakland to Guam, and then again in 1965 from Guam to Okinawa, Korea, and Japan on an R&R. I was ten & eleven years old at the time (Navy brat). Both times the decks below were filled with troops heading off to Vietnam. I still have the patches and units crests that some of them handed out to the kids on board. I knew she was in Suisuin Bay, but I didn’t know she had been moved. Wow, what memories! Great photos.
Thanks for taking the time to document this passage.
carol c
January 6, 2012 at 10:16 pm
I was on the Patrick on my way to Guam as a teenager in 1965. A young navy brat , 16 years old. With 3000 C. B.’s. On their way to Viet Namn. What a great time for me.
david sorenson
January 8, 2012 at 10:14 am
I served on the Patrick military crew of 17 from 1966–1967, and decommissioned her. These pictures put a lump in my throat every time I look at them, she was a great ship and her end is sad if inevitable.
Like most MSTS transports, the Patrick had a civilian Merchant Marine crew, commanded by a Master, with a smaller military detachment to take care of the passengers and crew…we did their paperwork, attended to health care (two physicians, two nurses, and several Navy corpsmen). We enlisted crewmembers slept in staterooms (3 to a room), and civilian waiters served chow, very different from regular Navy ships. It was great duty, though I left to serve a long TAD in the Rung Sat special zone in Vietnam. THANKS FOR THIS SITE!!!
Michael Saulter
January 25, 2012 at 9:19 pm
Proud to say my grandfather and namesake, served as quartermaster aboard the Patrick. He passed away in 1965 after being airlifted to SF. Only now am I getting to know him better. An amazing journey. I wish I had the opportunity to witness this myself. Living in Sacramento, I’ve passed the mothball fleet a hundred times over the years. Thanks for you blog, it is part of my family history!
Peter Knego
January 27, 2012 at 9:26 pm
Thank you for sharing your grandfather’s story with us, Michael. Its an honor that you read the post. All my best to you, Peter
Vincent Rosales
February 6, 2012 at 1:06 am
My dad was a crew member (Bosun)on this ship from the day it was commissioned January 31,1945 till 1967 when she was placed in a ready reserve status.
As a young man (12 years old) I remember going onboard and taking a tour of the ship after she had gone through major overhaul in Newport News, Va. She was pride of the fleet.
Then the war in Korea broke out and there was a lot troops to move.
I use to go Fort Mason to greet my dad coming home and watching the troops coming back from Korea. With the Sixth Army Band playing and welcoming home the troops.
In the end I used to take my boat fishing in the bay and pass by the reserve fleet and she The “Patrick”. She was getting up in age and like all who sailed with her the end was near!
Very sad my dad was laid to rest a few yeas before and now his ship.
Rest in Peace
Bud Allaman
March 29, 2012 at 7:10 pm
I went to Korea on this ship in 1956. Quite a trip for a young country boy.
Misako Bonner
April 9, 2012 at 7:35 pm
My family came to the U.S. from Yokohama to San Francisco in 1956. My father was active duty Navy and we, of course, were his dependents. I was 4 and my sister was a baby. I remember my mother being seasick almost the entire time and we wore life jackets for the 2 week long trip. My introduction to American life i.e. food and toilets were on that ship. Not eating with chopsticks? Are you kidding me? Yes what memories. My sister has since gone to Brownsville, TX and was able to secure a pair of oars from the lifeboats still intact with USNS. Gen. E.D. Patrick on it! Thank you for this website!
Priscilla Patrick Kennedy
May 14, 2012 at 10:09 am
Maj. Gen. Edwin D. Patrick was my grandfather, so it is bittersweet to see these photos and read the comments of those who traveled on the transport ship that was rechristened in his name after my grandfather was killed in the Phillipines during World War II. According to his biographer Wilson Heefner, Gen. Patrick was “a courageous combat leader who was a constant presence in the forward areas of his division. He shared the common soldier’s fate beside his men, and there he died.”
Thanks so much for taking the time to tell the story of the ship that bore his name.
Mike Shuchter
May 27, 2012 at 4:47 am
In 1956 my family and I set sail from San Francisco to Yokohama. I was 10 and it was a wonderful and memorable voyage despite a typhoon blowing much of the way. The Patrick has always held a special part in my heart and I’m saddened by her demise. Interestingly enough, I lived in Sacramento from 1990 until 2008 and passed the mothball fleet many times over the years, never realizing that I was setting eyes on what had long been my favorite ship.
Vernon Stevens
July 27, 2012 at 6:54 pm
As a USAF guy, I spent 18 memorable days on the Patrick, leaving Ft. Mason 12/10/1954, going within sight of Hawaian Islands, docking at Keelung Harbor, Formosa and Okinawa and then Yokohoma. To occupy idle time, my buddy and I were assigned to a Food Servic Officer. We scraped and cleaned an idle galley space and painted the floor. A crewman escorted us to the bow paint locker. I remember that it was next to the anchor chain locker…….Stern space was partitioned off for enlisted men and forward spaces for officers and their dependants…One of the pictures shows the deck house on stern where I attended a chapel service at Christmas time. About 25 of us were sitting in foldup chairs and the ship was pitching and tossing, and a larger than ususal wave pitched far enough for the foldup chairs to go down like a row of dominoes….On a clear beautiful day, I took a color slide from a porthole in the head, at stern. Spray and sunlight produced a beautiful rainbow picture framed by the porthole.
Many memories and thanks for the posting.
Dan
July 29, 2012 at 11:48 am
It’s a shame that no one stepped forward to save the U.S.N.S. GENERAL EDWIN D. PATRICK as a museum vessel like the WWII Liberty ship SS JOHN W. BROWN. I could actually see the ship sailing on special occasion. Yet, they can save a liberty ship, but not a troop transport vessel.
thomas stoll
August 12, 2012 at 2:50 pm
I was shipped from San Diego to the Philipines VIA the Patrick. I was 17 and it was my first time away from home in 1961. The ship was full of civilians, Marines and Navy personnel and one of the worst experiences in my lifetime. The sinks and toilets were loaded with vomit from seasick soldiers and the civilians were ralphing over the side’s, some got the material blown back in there face,needless to say it was the worst cruise I have ever taken. I did not shower,shave or brush my teeth for 3 days.
k
August 27, 2012 at 10:58 am
November 1952, traveling back to USA from Guam with my family, I celebrated my 5th birthday on the USNS General E D Patrick. They let me speak into the microphone in the dining hall…I’m told they had a hard time getting the mike back. Guess I wasn’t so shy then. We have a number of family stories regarding that trip.
(Air Force brat)
Andrew Waters
August 28, 2012 at 10:43 pm
I was on the USNS Patrick from about the third week in July to the same in August. The year was 1962. Destination: Yokohama, Japan
I don’t have memories of leaving San Diego, CA but my first and vivid memory at sea was one of the Marines or soldiers on the ship passing the word around that we couldn’t go beyond this or that point because civilians were on board. So this left the stern area to be shared, daily, by hundreds and hundreds of Soldiers and quite a few Marines (myself). Other than jockeying for endless views of an empty ocean there wasn’t much to be seen on that wide expanse of ocean.
I’ve often wondered why it was that my recall was stunted such that all I could remember, in detail, was the typhoon we sailed into much later in the trip.
I recall the Patrick slowly being guided into the dock in Honolulu; I recall overnight liberty in that city. I recall turning down a Marine bulldog mascot tattoo on my right upper arm and took much needling (from a forgotten face and name who was with me) that evening because at the last minute I decided against it.
At sea once again on a very brilliant, sunny day, news came of Marilyn Monroe’s passing. It seems to me we had been at sea a couple of days, although I have no way of knowing this. I thought, for unknown reasons, she had died on August 2, 1962. I now know it to be August 5. But I do remember leaning over the rail with many others looking out to sea when I heard that news.
I was out on the deck one day, with hundreds of others, when this B-25 Mitchell bomber passed low and close to the ship. Everyone was startled by the sudden, heavy rumbling that twin, piston engines can produce. For years I thought I could remember from which direction it came, from what side of the ship it was on, but I can’t. But I do remember the typhoon in detail later in the trip.
After leaving the chow area one day I came out on deck and once again noticing the ever present brightness of the sun. Then I saw this Marine dressed in funny-looking garb. He had what appeared to be a reddish golden wig sitting on his head. He gave me the initiating speech on the Golden Dragon with a card, that I briefly glanced at, not really seeing any of it except to say it was blue and gold appearing in its coloring. Maybe I was supposed to know about this cermony but I didn’t. At 19 years old and on a vast ocean, what should I know that really mattered. All I knew was it pertained to the Navy somehow.
Some time after the Golden Dragon initiating rights, probably a few days, the sun wasn’t as horizon-to-horizon as it had been day in, day out. The faint clouds had turned the sky slightly grayish, in the distance. Of course this grayness meant nothing to me. I had seen rain clouds and lots of it growing up in Indianapolis, IN. However, it meant something to the ship’s captain and crew. They knew.
Someone called our attention to numerous flying fish. I believe I watched this for quite awhile. Anything one could see on this huge expanse of ocean was a welcome relief compared to the routine of being shackled to the stern of the Patrick for entertainment. Now that I’m talking about Flying Fish I can’t honestly say what direction they were heading. My comedic side tells me they were fleeing to the east, in the opposite direction of the typhoon, now whipping itself into a frenzied category 5 at about N. lat. 22-27, E. lon. 145 and hundreds of miles away to the west and south, waitng for the USNS Patrick and its inhabitants.
It was about this time, when the sky was gray from horizon to horizon, that someone on the ship, within earshot, mentioned to a buddy we were heading into a typhoon. Once hearing this I had no cause for fear because I was too young to know about any of this. I simply didn’t know. I had no background to relate to, no others from different parts of the country to help clue me on the particulars. More importantly I had no reason to want to know, and more telling, I had no interest and didn’t ask. All I knew was I was heading to Japan. I knew about the somewhat recent war. I knew about the Kamikaze pilots. I knew about a lot of things regarding war… but not typhoons. What I knew at that time was enough for me at 19 years old.
One thing I did become aware of was the wind had picked up considerably and the tiny waves out away from the ship had turned to a steady stream of small whitecaps. The ship itself was doing what most huge ships do: sailing on the ocean.
After many more hours of this the ship started to gently roll and move about as though it were uneasy in doing this. Soon the Patrick had its usual graceful sway become a more rolling to the left, then right, then up, then down. None of this was cause for concern for me. I had seen on old WWII films how the waves had come over the bow of the ship; this was neat to me, to be able to see this in real time. After all the typhoon was way off, in the distance–and I didn’t know what a typhoon represented.
Now it’s dusk… or is it. I don’t know. I don’t remember. But the ship’s captain knew what time it was. Word quickly spread throughout our area that we had to go inside and ”Batten down the hatches”. There was no dissension against the command from the authorities from any troops that remained outside, including myself. If one were foolish enough to let go of a railing or some other nearby part of the ship then it’s quite possible they would have been lost overboard for all eternity.
By now trying to shave in the head area (bathroom) in the stern of the ship was an ordeal. Those nIcks and cuts were the direct result of 25-30 feet waves/swells, then the slamming down at the bottom of the swell. The noise was unsettling once the ship crashed back to the bottom, even to a novice like me, who was unafraid.
Much later scuttlebutt had it the ship wouldn’t progress any further in this typhoon. We are going to remain motionless and ride it out about 250 miles out from Japan. I have no way of knowing if this last command was from the authorities or if it came from a soldier or Marine who misinterpreted what was heard pertaining to the ”stay put” decision. I talked to a ship’s captain a few years ago on the internet about this, who happened to have had a ”Patrick” type command at one time, and he said staying put wasn’t an option: there had to be motion of some kind from the ship to navigate the swells he says.
Maybe, maybe not.
It was shortly after my shaving experience, maybe several hours, I’m not sure now, that I decided to return to the bathroom area of the Patrick. I knew what I had to do. I left midships in the troop compartments and headed past dozens and dozens of hammock type sleeping bunks which were held up by chains as I remember the area. I spoke to a couple aquaintances along the way and made it to the head area. Once there I looked to make sure no one was around to stop me from going outside, against orders, in gale force winds, that were battering the USNS Patrick mercilessly.
For some oddball reason I had to verify to myself what I know I heard, rightly or wrongly, that the Patrick was going to sit still in the water and ride out the typhoon. I reasoned if I could maneuver myelf out far enough on the railing surrounding the ”underneath” fantail I just may be able to see if the screws were sitting still in the water. I didn’t have a clue how far back the screws set but I wasn’t concerned about it. At this point I have to say I don’t recall talking with anyone about anything related to the workings of the ship. Yet I must have done that because there just doesn’t seem to be any other earthly answer to even think about it, let alone do it. Of course the cynic can say, ”Yeah, buddy, stupidity.”
I honestly don’t remember how I opened the door to the outside fantail. Not that it was secured from anyone going outside, but I just don’t remember what it was I had to do to open it. I don’t remember turning or sliding a handle or anything circular like a submarine hatch. All I know is I opened the door, trying to balance myself while the ship heaved to and fro. I can’t even recall how many seconds or maybe a minute or two I stood at the opening trying to get up the courage to make a short dash for the fantail railing and ”safety,” but I did. If I had to make a guess on the distance from the door to the railing I would say about 10 feet.
So I waited a few seconds or more until the ship ”bottomed out’ temporarily then watched as the stern heaved up to the top of the huge swell and decided to time it that way, that is, when it crashed to the bottom again. Once I had the bottom crashing in mind and the short amount of time it would stay there before quickly rising again I decided it was time to make a move. After the Patrick slammed against the bottom swell I dashed over to the center rail, or what I judged to be the center, and latched on to it. By that time the ship had already started its way back up to the very top. And it was quick.
While I was strangle-holding the railing I watched the waves and the ship with fascination. One second I’m craning my neck upwards to see the top of the swells while we’re at the bottom then the next few seconds I can actually see the fantail out of the water once another huge swell seemingly lifted the rear portion the ship.
Not satisfied with my view I shook the railing really hard making sure nothing was loose before leaning out. My left forearm and hand was in the higher position than my right hand, which was near where the horizontal bar and the vertical bar joins at what I recall as being the center. I leaned out over the railing as far as I felt I could go without being really stupid. But that didn’t afford me the view I was seeking. Why I thought I could do better is beyond me. With that in mind clear memory told me I needed to actually lean out, way out, over the rail. I did that by lying across the horizontal bar until I was parallel to the ship’s deck. I kept sliding, little by little, until the deck railing was a few inches ”above” my knees as I hung in the parallel position, out over the ocean. I hung this way for maybe a couple of trips, maybe more, up and down until the ship lurched far enough at an angle that I actually saw a portion of the left screw fan/blade just sitting there. I saw this. I did. That portion of the fan was motionless. Maybe the other screw ”underneath me” was turning, I don’t know. But I do know the left screw was motionless; at least for the fews seconds I was looking at it. I don’t remember ”seeing” the rudder. Of coure it was there all along right in the middle of the fan tail, but I just didn’t notice it.
When I say left screw this is from my view leaning out of the back side of the ship and looking to my left.
Finally I decided to come back inside. After being very careful and watchful of the ship’s upward and downward motion I made it back safely inside. Needless to say I never told anyone on the ship about this reckless frame of mind. I mentioned it to a couple of Marines I made friends with while in Japan but didn’t dwell on it like I am on this website.
What really sparked my interest again after the past few years is I started wondering whether anyone else on the internet had memories to offer from that typhoon on that ship. I thought about the category measure of the typhoon. Where it originated. Did the typhoon veer away from Yokohama as our disembarkation suggested, that is, an awful lot of rain had fallen in Yokohama before we got there but I saw no evidence of destruction once at the pier.
Andrew Waters
August 29, 2012 at 12:16 am
One day in 2005 I thought I could get a handle on this 50 year old recall so I looked up typhoons in the Pacific for 1962. A Google turned up a site that showed how many, what month, the duration, the category, and when it was downgraded to tropical storm status.
In addition to googling the storm I decided to look at my long reposing Golden Dragon card and it told me the USNS Patrick had crossed the international dateline (180 lon.) on the 16th of August at 30 degrees north latitude (in the afternoon). That card helped give me new thought on the time frame involved even while it was secreted away for 50 years. I knew what month we crossed the dateline but I simply never looked that closely to see what day we crossed.
On that date, the 16th of August, 1962, in the evening, about 500 miles to the southwest, Typhoon Ruth was packing 185 miles per hour winds. Fortunately by the time our paths crossed several days later, near Japan, Ruth was losing her grip fast. She had nothing to offer but lowly category 2 winds: 96 -110 mph. The reader will note everything I described above as category 2, according to what the experts have shown with their illustrations. The only thing I added was my 500 miles figure according to the number of miles in a degree at a given latitude/longitude.
And this is where this website comes into play.
I was reading an article by a guy named James Buck a few days ago and he was writing of his trip on the Patrick to Korea in March,1962. His article showed quite a few pictures that stimulated my recall. At the same time one of his pictures made me question myself but only for a split second, and then only from a photographic perspective.
After James Buck mentioned the author of this site I did a quick google and was home free so to speak.
On this website I started scrolling down the picture line and when I got to number 4 (none marked) I noted the twin scews. But they looked oddly elongated. This is where I questioned my recall, to myself, and it happens to be an integral part of my comments above.
As an amateur photographer I knew this elongation could only have come from a wide angle lens with its attendant, skewed perspective. I continued to scroll down to picture number 11 and was immediately struck by the (more) normal view of the rear of the vessel, horizontal and vertical bars all wrapped into one, on the fantail–just as I remembered them from 50 years ago in the middle of the typhoon near Japan, while the ship was heaving up and down. So now I can rest easy after looking at one specific picture on this website. Using a comment from a television documentary: I know what I saw–and experienced. Every thing i wrote is true.
This webite says my email won’t be published. But that’s okay if it is.
pmartinjr@neo.rr.com
Andrew Waters
September 11, 2012 at 6:59 pm
A correction is being made on distance in the following paragraph taken from above, and should be used for further reference in the body of comments.
”On that date, the 16th of August, 1962, in the evening, about 500 [2, 400] miles to the southwest, Typhoon Ruth was packing 185 miles per hour winds. Fortunately by the time our paths crossed several days later, near Japan, Ruth was losing her grip fast. She had nothing to offer but lowly category 2 winds: 96 -110 mph. The reader will note everything I described above as category 2, according to what the experts have shown with their illustrations. The only thing I added was my 500 [2,400] miles figure according to the number of miles in a degree at a given latitude/longitude.”
william j. pirrung
November 12, 2012 at 9:47 am
As an A/2C in the USAF i was pretty upset that i had to go to the fareast(Korea) on a ship. I boarded the Patrick early in Jan. 1955.
Was playing cards when the engines started, and began to feel a little funny even then..When someone announced that we were sailing under the golden gate bridge, most of us did not move..The first couple of days were not very memorable, but soon after, we began going through storms and very rough seas. We were also carrying dependents going to join their loved ones and caught a couple glimpses of some of them..They then closed the water tight compartments and that stayed for the rest of the voyage.I was sick every day after that, and would’nt have cared if i died.They also put me to work in the laundry folding the white jackets worn by the guys who waited on the dependents.The trip took 15 days, and i would not have cared where they put us, as long as it was land…..My year in Korea was at K-6, the 607th AC&W sqn. Glad to say I flew home starting on Dec.22nd on Operation santa claus..Got to hilly in Dec 23rd, 1955..Was married on jAN. 7TH, 1956 to Dorothy J. Lindsay for 55 years….Thanks for reading my story…..Bill
George James Delgado
November 27, 2012 at 2:50 pm
Hi!
I sailed to Korea aboard the Patrick in May, 1965, along with mostly 101st Airborne troops headed for Vietnam. I was assigned to 2nd of the71st ADA, 38th BDE. We landed in Inchon, as my older brother did in 1950. He left Korea in 1952.
Thanks!
George James Delgado
100808 Frazier Court
El Paso, TX. 79935
Jim Mull
January 9, 2013 at 10:24 am
I sailed out of Oakland, Ca. on this troop transport US Army in August 1961. As I recall it was about a 19 day trip with stop’s in Hawaii, Japan and finally Inchon. What an exciting voyage for a young Private in the US Army.
Dan Legue
January 9, 2013 at 7:07 pm
Such a shame that neither of the last Troop Transport ships was saved as museum ships like some of the Liberty Merchant vessels. The SS United States is the only Troop Transport vessel left, despite never being used as a Troopship. It was built like one.
William Moore
February 6, 2013 at 4:55 pm
My sister Suzanne and I (along with my dad (Master Chief Boatswains mate William Moore and my mom in 1953 were on board the Patrick coming home from Yokohama, Japan to San Francisco after being in Japan from 1949 to early 53. I had only one picture of my sister and I sitting on a deck chair in 1953 (I was just 7 1/2 at the time)… Just ran across your web page and this is the first I had seen a full picture of the ship since then… 60 years. Thanks for your posting. If you would like the picture let me know and I’ll get it to you… You can see how boring it must have been for kids to cross the Pacific on one of these ships.
John M. McCormick
February 6, 2013 at 6:36 pm
Boarded my first cruise ship in San Francisco Bay in September 1952 on my way to the Fun Far East. Otherwise known as the ROK – Republic of Korea. Coming from the East Coast I had never seen a ship of that size except for movies of the Madsen Liners making the Hawaii loop. Needless to say, the Patrick was a bit short on amenities, but strong on heart. We steamed to Okinawa with 5,000 troops bound for the defense of the Perimeter. En route, we spent a night in Keloung (Sp) Fermosa, to take on fuel and ammunition. Then we were off to Yokahoma for more fuel (gasoline) and then to Korea. She was a great ship. I particularly remember the diamond-like phosphorous as we slid through the Southern Cross. The Pollywog ceremony at the Equator and the cuisine (hash browns, hard boiled eggs and cold toast), yet to be equaled by Carnival, Princess and the rest. She was a great lady, and I am proud to have sailed on her. Jack (John M. McCormick, SgtFC 140th TKBN(Hvy)UNForces, Korea)
Daron Pitts
February 12, 2013 at 10:07 am
I am trying to track down some President Cleveland information and this page came up in my search – I apologize if it has no place on this page..
I have shipping announcements in San Francisco newspapers dated around Sept 6, 1957 that the Cleveland sailed from Yokohama, Japan to San Francisco. I also just found an article saying the Cleveland will arrive in Los Angeles from San Francisco a few days after it arrived in San Francisco.
QUESTION: Is there anybody that has or knows where to find shipping records of this ship? Around August 1957 – September 1957 / i need documented proof of it’s path and it’s route at that time.
I’ve been looking in NewspaperArchive.com and have had some luck there.
Any help or direction will help a lot. Thanks.
~Daron
dpitts@cdfms.org
Shawn Dake
February 12, 2013 at 5:42 pm
This is a very appropriate page to bring up a question about the PRESIDENT CLEVELAND. American President Lines actually operated two of the “General” ships briefly as part of their fleet along with the CLEVELAND and WILSON. I checked my own collection and I do not have timetables specifically for the voyage you referenced, but the PRESIDENT CLEVELAND was definitely on the trans-Pacific run at that time and in most cases the ship did call at Los Angeles a couple days after the arrival in San Francisco on the subsequent voyage. There is a website you may be interested in looking at
http://www.timetableimages.com/maritime/images/apl.htm
although it doesn’t look like it has the 1957 schedule there either. By posting these comments perhaps another of our readers will be able to help you.
Daron Pitts
February 13, 2013 at 12:44 pm
Thanks Shawn,
I will search some more – I haven’t thought about taking that path / timetables, ticket routes, etc…
This is all about tracking down the very first Japanese vehicle ever exported to the USA – it was a 1958 TOYOTA Toyopet. We bought one in San Francisco and have been researching it’s history….
I also got your email. We went to the Maritime Library after locating a folder in the APL archives online that had what we thought we were looking for – in that box we found hand written memos about Toyota’s, the President Cleveland and the President Arthur and trips from Yokohama and port arrivals in San Francisco….nothing in Long Beach or Los Angeles though.
I may get back online and look at the APL archives with more of a Long Beach search – we didn’t do much Long Beach related searching since we picked up the car in San Francisco.
We know for a fact the first Toyota Toyopet samples left Yokohama on August 25, 1957 and we know for a fact they arrived in San Francisco on September 7, 1957 (I even have a photo of longshoremen unloading it) – but according to TOYOTA history/legend, the samples arrived in Long Beach.
I can’t find any historical evidence to prove that. Only one small newspaper clipping that says the President Cleveland is expected to arrive in Long Beach on September 14, 1957 assumingly with the Toyota Toyopet samples. According to Shotaro Kamiya (old Toyota Exec who wrote a book) he stood on the docks at Long Beach, reporters were there taking pictures, Miss Japan was there as the Toyopets were unloaded. I’ve found ZERO newspaper articles about this (so far) and ZERO proof that the President Cleveland arrived in Long Beach after leaving Yokohama on August 25, 1957.
QUESTION: How long would it have taken the President Cleveland to travel from Yokohama to San Francisco?
QUESTION: “Ship Arrivals” were usually published in the paper back then like movie schedules are today – does anyone know where i can search Long Beach newspapers from August 1957 – September 1957 to see if they list the Cleveland arriving?
QUESTION: What was the cargo capacity on the President Cleveland? Was it a “Big” cargo vehicle or mostly passenger? What sq ft was it’s cargo bay?
QUESTION: Does anyone know where it docked in Yokohama in the fall of 1957? In the current APL dock at Yokohama Bay?
Thanks…
Daron
dpitts@cdfms.org
Frank Johnson
February 20, 2013 at 7:40 pm
After spending 15 months in Korea in the First Cav Division I got on the General Edwin D. Patrick January 9, 1962 which was headed to the great U.S.A. Onthe voyage, which took 19 days, we stoped in Japan and Hawaii. Even though there were times when I was somewhat unconfortble overall I enjoyed the trip. I will never forget the General.
Laura (Bess) Daudelin
March 1, 2013 at 11:06 am
My mother, older sister, younger brother and I (all under the age of 6) travelled to Formosa on the USNS Gen. E. D. Patrick in 1954 to meet up with my father, Gordon W. Bess, USArmy who had gone on ahead to find living quarters. I was the only family member not to get seasick . . . and my sister and brother came down with chickenpox (which I got later). I remember watching kid movies in the projection room . . . my sister and I had little girl crushes on the projectionist. Sad that the ship is gone . . .
LaNell Hughes
March 19, 2013 at 3:02 am
My mother, brother and I headed to Japan to join my father in Feb of 57. We missed the first boat because I had chickenpox. I have the Domain of the Golden Dragon from crossing the equator. I have no memory of the trip but mom tells me that we had a drill and had to put on our life jackets and head to the deck. My brother who was about 7 years old, proceeded to climb up on the side of the boat to jump off when someone grabbed him. Mom had her hands full for sure. Thanks for all the pictures and stories. I plan to share this with mom when we get together next time. If anyone has pictures of the interior, I would love to see them.
Kathryn Mitchell
March 23, 2013 at 2:26 pm
Can’t say how wonderful to find this website. Had the privilege of sailing on the Patrick as a Navy dependent at age 9 with my mother and 5 year old brother, on a voyage from SFO to join our father in Guam. It was truly a luxury cruise for us and a great adventure. Imagine sleeping in bunks everynight, every meal at a table with a white linen tablecloth, served by a friendly waiter in a starched white jacket. My mother had to tell us to stop staring at our waiter…but we had never met a black man before and were fascinated.
There were movies everyday, a playground for us topside and a carnival planned when we crossed the international dateline, complete with colored certificates with a “sea monster” on it marking this special day….I still have it in my photo album.
I forwarded the site to my brother but wish my parents were still here to share the memories with us.
Thank you sharing this great story of her last days in her home port and for the beautiful photographs.
Kathryn Mitchell
March 23, 2013 at 2:37 pm
Forgot to say our voyage on the USNS Patrick was in 1952 and my Dad, Chief Damage Controlman Robert Holmes Mitchell, Naval Station, Guam. had just secured quarters for us at Orote Point in a “quonset hut”…a whole other adventure!
Peter Knego
March 23, 2013 at 5:33 pm
Thanks so much for sharing your memories, Kathryn. And thanks for your kind words. I only wish I had been more successful in getting on the ship. Warm regards, Peter