art by austin dwyer
he year was 1955. I remember hanging over the rail on the tanker’s transom; it was one of the only places aboard the ship where we were allowed to smoke. The sun had just left a low-lying blanket of clouds and dropped below the horizon. I could smell the ocean air as I exhaled a stream of smoke and flicked the cigarette butt into our wake. I could feel the ship rise from the swell below us and slowly ease back down into the trough. It was a time to dream. I knew that this was the area of the Atlantic where SS Flying Enterprise had descended into the black raging sea just a few years before. The ship’s career had been short. Built early in 1944 for use in World War II, the Type C1-B ship was launched from the Consolidated Steel Corporation shipyard in Wilmington, California, originally christened SS Cape Kumukaki. After the war, the ship was sold to the Isbrandtsen Company and re-registered in New York under the name Flying Enterprise. I lit another Player’s cigarette through cupped hands and took a deep drag. I tried to imagine being aboard the ill-fated vessel and what it must have been like. The ship had sunk only three years earlier and was still a regular topic of conservation, especially in merchant ships whose routes brought them into the Western approaches to the English Channel.
written and illustrated by Austin Dwyer
naval history and heritage command
T
Turmoil at Sea
In the distance at left is SS Flying Enterprise, listing heavily to port in stormy seas in the northeastern Atlantic, as seen from USS General A. W. Greely (T-AP-141), circa 29 December 1951. At right is a lifeboat returning to the Greely with survivors from the Flying Enterprise. A merchant tanker is standing by, ready to assist. Our radio officer was an Australian chap from Sydney named Ray—and after fifty years I am fortunate to remember that much, as he was only known to his shipmates as “Sparks.” Earlier that evening over
supper, Sparks had been delivering his version of the story. He enjoyed his relevance to the saga in that he had been on the scene, onboard another merchant vessel not far away when the Flying Enterprise issued an S-O-S. We actually had a bar onboard the tanker (imagine that today!), and it was there, over a Guinness, that Ray continued his story. Friday, 21 December 1951: Flying Enterprise put to sea from Hamburg, Germany, bound for America under the command of Captain Kurt Carlsen. Her manifest recorded an assorted cargo of pig iron, coffee, peat moss, antiques, Volkswagen cars, musical instruments, and typewriters. She was manned by a crew of forty, and she also had ten passengers aboard, which was not unusual. Four days out from Hamburg, the Enterprise encountered the beginThe tug Turmoil with Flying Enterprise in tow. Captain Carlsen and Turmoil’s chief mate, Kenneth Danby, were still aboard the stricken cargo ship at this stage.
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SEA HISTORY 167, SUMMER 2019