The President Coolidge Disaster

Añadido: 2026-05-23

[00:00:03]It's a sticky hot day in the tropics in late 1942. And off Espiritu Santo, modernday Vanuatu, men are streaming down the side of a listing ocean liner like ants scrambling down a hill. The greyhulk of the ship presents a weird sight. She's been thrown over at a wild angle, and rope ladders have been strung hurriedly over the side. Under the warm blue skies, she's listing further and further over and men in khaki uniforms splash ashore in disarray.

[00:00:34]The ship is the American steamer President Kulage. Flash forward 84 years to today, and she's still there, lying now underwater, frozen in time like some kind of ghost. Once the pride of her owners, President Kulage played host to one of America's great wartime shipping dramas. Eventually, she had become a favorite site for daring scuba divers keen to discover her secrets. That back in 1942, in a moment of high drama, the ship was stuck and a desperate evacuation was playing out. But it was one that would prove deadly. Ladies and gentlemen, I'm your friend Mike Brady from Ocean Liner Designs and this is the story of the American troop ship frozen in time, the SS President Coolage.

[00:01:31]photos show the moments President Kulage was evacuated by hundreds of men clambering down the towering steel sides. These are some of the most dramatic pictures taken of a shipping incident during the war. The liner had started life as a glorious passenger steam ship and the pride of her owners.

[00:01:47]The dollar line was named after their founder. In the mid 1800s on a remote lumber camp in Canada, a young chore boy had big dreams of pulling himself beyond the margins of poverty. His name was Robert Dollar and he had gone on to found one of the largest and most profitable shipping companies in the world within decades. It had started with what dollar knew best, lumber. But soon he realized he would need a more reliable shipping system than the providers that were consistently letting him down. In 1885, Dollar purchased his first steam ship, the 120 ft steam schooner called the Newsboy. By 1900, he had founded the dollar steam ship company and had established close lumber shipping ties with Asia.

[00:02:36]Through the First World War and into the 20s, Dollar Line acquired a fleet of impressive cargo passenger ships that had become one of the premier carriers on the Pacific Run and extremely profitable. But sadly, it wasn't to last.

[00:02:53]By 1929, the dollar steam ship line had been acquiring ships at discounted costs, capitalizing on all the passenger cargo vessels left over from the war.

[00:03:02]With one deal buying $30 million worth of vessels for just 5.5 million cash.

[00:03:08]But the company realized that under the Merchant Marine Act of 1928, they could secure generous government shipping subsidies for carrying the mail. But carrying the US mail was a prestigious job. To meet the required speed, Dollar Line ships would need to be modern, slick, and fast. It would call for a whole new generation of ocean liners to get the job done. The US government put in 5 million for the project, and the contract went to the legendary Newport News Shipyard in Virginia. The design called for a pair of identical sister ships, some 615 ft, 187 m long, nearly 22,000 gross registered tons. decent midsized luxury liners that would be ideally suited to the Trans-Pacific route. Crucially, they needed to feature all the bells and whistles that modern American ship building could provide.

[00:03:56]They'd be turbo electric ships using electric motors to drive propellers, pushing the ship at speeds in excess of 20 knots with nearly 1,000 passengers housed in comfortable modernity.

[00:04:06]swimming pools, an intership telephone system, and magnificent airond conditioned interiors like the firstass smoking room and the towering Continental Lounge with its 3,000 pieces of glass making up an impressive main dome.

[00:04:21]But the two new ships also needed to house tons and tons of cargo for the weeksl long voyage out into the Pacific.

[00:04:28]Cars could be loaded into the side of the ship using special automobile capston. 70,000 square ft of refrigerated cargo space could hold meat, fruit, and other goods. The first ship was christened by the wife of President Calvin Culage. In the depths of prohibition, where champagne sail was banned, Mrs. Koolage instead smashed a bottle of water from her husband's Vermont farm over the ship's bow instead. The new liner was named after him. And by October 1931, the SS President Kulage and its sister ship, the President Hoover were the largest passenger ships constructed in America so far.

[00:05:07]But despite introducing these two new magnificent ships, Dollar Line was in serious trouble. The Great Depression was in full swing. And even though President Kulage managed to crack the Trans-Pacific speed record set by the Japanese liner Assama Maru, the parent company's fortunes were about to suddenly and drastically change. In May 1932, Robert Dollar died at the ripe old age of 88, and his son Stanley inherited his vast fortune, but also his troubled shipping line. The generous US male subsidy had cushioned the economic spiral and at one stage the company was generating profits but that was a feat that was shortlived.

[00:05:47]The worsening global conditions and the escalating conflict between Japan and China in 1937 forced the company to avoid some of their key routes and as ports closed sales dropped. In August the President Hoover was bombed by mistake in China and then in November she ran ground and stuck fast. Attempts to refloat her proved in vain, and one half of Dollar's prized male carrying duo was abandoned and then broken up over three years. It was a sad end for such a fine new ship. But it was just the beginning of Dollar Line's wos. The company's accounts began to turn red.

[00:06:23]They owed the US government something like $7,500,000 and then 2 million to other creditors.

[00:06:28]The next year, Stanley knew the end had come. The president Kulage was seized by the US government for unpaid debts. With no sign that the dollar line could recover, the government acted decisively. The company was offered a deal where the family could be absolved of their debts if and only if the entire line was handed over to the government.

[00:06:48]They jumped at the chance and Dollar Line's impressive fleet, including the president Culage, became the property of the US government and it was incorporated into a new entity, the American president lines.

[00:07:09]By 1941, world events had taken a turn.

[00:07:12]Germany and Britain and their allies were at war, and Japan was eyeing the Pacific. The government had put President Culage to work loading American personnel and evacuating them from Hong Kong and other vulnerable US bases throughout Asia. War seemed inevitable. In June 1941, the government requisitioned President Kulage for use as a troop transport. But because of the urgency of the situation, her interior spaces remained untouched and her luxuries weren't stripped out for protection as they usually might have been.

[00:07:43]In early December 1941, President Kulage was homewoodbound when news reached the ship about a Japanese attack on the naval base at Pearl Harbor. Congress acted quickly and America was finally at war.

[00:08:02]Then President Roosevelt deployed immediate relief to evacuate wounded from Pearl Harbor. And the SS President Kulage was one of the ships redirected to assist. On December 19th, 1941, she delivered 125 wounded naval personnel from Hawaii to San Francisco, returning them safely on Christmas Day. Finally, in early 1942, President Kulage was properly refitted for full troop ship duties, stripped of her carpets and her paneling, fitted with Spartan steel bunks to carry something like 5,440 personnel. Outside, she was armed with a host of deck and anti-air guns, while her elegant hull and super structure were painted over with a drab gray.

[00:08:46]Throughout 1942, Kulage served in the efforts to support the Solomon Islands campaign, but her fleetmates were suffering badly. In December 1941, two of the company's ships, the SS Ruth Alexander and the President Harrison, had been sunk or captured. And in February the next year, the SS President Taylor hit a reef and she was abandoned.

[00:09:05]For her part, President Kulage steamed into ports like Melbourne, Sydney, Wellington, Oakland, Bora Bora, and Soua to offload soldiers and essential wartime material. Critically, the liner carried quinine, the vital antimmalaria drug used in the Pacific theater where mosquitoes and their diseases could wipe out whole squads of soldiers. In October, President Kulage was bound for New Calonia, the staging base supporting the Guadal Canal campaign. But this would be a voyage she'd never return from.

[00:09:41]On Tuesday, 6th of October 1942, at 10:30 a.m., President Kulage slipped her lines from Pier 44 in San Francisco Harbor, steaming out towards the Pacific to her destination in Numeia, New Calonia, the same route she had traveled only months earlier. She carried 340 crewmen, 50 US Navy sailors to man the guns, and roughly 4,800 US Army troops.

[00:10:06]Below, crammed into her holds were stacks of arms, Springfield rifles, artillery pieces, jeeps, trucks, and crate upon crate of ammunition. Arguably the most vital part of her cargo, though, was 519 lb, 235 kg of quinning.

[00:10:24]That was the Pacific theat's entire reserve of the stuff.

[00:10:31]The majority of the troops belong to the 43rd Infantry Division with most under the command of a Colonel Lewis. They were important support units bound for Guadal Canal in the Solomon Islands.

[00:10:41]There GIs had been fighting a fierce campaign against the Japanese for almost 2 months. Lewis's men were to reinforce the belleaguered troops and strengthen America's foothold in the campaign.

[00:10:53]The voyage out to New Calonia was not a quick one, but the men busied themselves with drills and live fire exercises, training the 37mm guns on imaginary targets and letting loose. Not used to the harsh Pacific conditions, most of the men suffered badly from sunburn if they spent any significant amount of time up on deck. Their quarters were a far cry from Koolage's luxurious days, and they slept in canvas bunks stacked four tiers high with barely two feet separating each other. Seasickness was rife and it stank terribly. But life continued on as the days rolled by and the ship rolled too, gently in the swells. On October 12th came a break in the monotony. The ship crossed the equator and tradition dictated that first timers nicknamed polywogs be initiated into King Neptune's realm and become shellbacks. It's a long story, but this was no pleasure cruise. Reports of periscope sightings kept the men on edge. And on October 16th, one of the engines suffered a bad malfunction. So, President Kulage had to reduce speed.

[00:11:54]"It would take two nervous days of repairs to bring the ship back up to her usual pace." "I remember the Koolage as being a beautiful ship," recalled serviceman Max Evans. "Most of the time was spent either in the mess hall or playing cards and talking to the other men."

[00:12:13]Finally, on October 20th, President Kulage reached Numa, where she briefly docked. After having been jammed inside the sweltering enclosures of the ship, troops were undoubtedly relieved to feel solid ground beneath their boots again.

[00:12:26]But there would be no rest for the Koolage's crew because they had to continue to prepare their ship for the next port of call, Luganville Harbor, on a Spirit of Santo in the New Hedes.

[00:12:47]On the 24th of October, President Kulage was steaming on approach to its final destination, Luganville. The port town is well protected, but it's a challenge to navigate safely. The entrance to the harbor is blocked by three large islands, Marlo, Aor, and Tatuba, which effectively split the approaches to Luganville into three relatively narrow channels. The western approach, the Seon channel, is barely 1 km under 4,000 ft wide, but it leads directly up to the port. The central narrows between Aor and Tatuba are interrupted by a smaller island named Bagasio, while the eastern approach is widest at 3 km or 2.14 mi.

[00:13:29]But this was an important staging port for the American Pacific campaign, and it had to be protected. By late 1942, the approaches had been extensively mined with three fields to protect from enemy submarines, and entering the port was a navigational challenge. Field one blocked the southwestern entrance between Marlo and the mainland. Fields two and three were laid in the middle of the bay and effectively blocked entrance from the east. To successfully enter Luganville, ships would need to thread the needle between Oayor or Tatuba and Picassio to the south. Evidently, some didn't get the memo. In August, the distinguished destroyer USS Tucker had blundered straight into one of the minefields and sunk right away, heading for the western approach.

[00:14:17]President Kulage's skipper, the veteran dollar line, Captain Henry Nelson, stared out at the entrance to the bay from his ship's wing bridge. He'd been her master for two and a half years. My affection for that vessel, he would later say, was as great as that a man may have for an inanimate object. But now looking at the green islands that surrounded Luganville, he must have paused for thought.

[00:14:40]He would later maintain he'd been told simply to head for a navigational point named Hypo at the eastern approach of Tatuba Island. What he was supposed to do next was up in the air. On the day the ship had left Numeir, a young courier, Enson John Denovo, had hurried aboard to deliver a case of classified documents, including, he said, special instructions, six critical documents, including navigational orders and specific instructions for the approach to Luganville. But Nelson stood on the bridge of his ship that day without those instructions, and instead he simply looked at the approaches to the port. He quickly made up his mind.

[00:15:19]Entering the bay through the tiny gap between islands to the south would be a fool's errand for a big ship. Much better to approach from the east where the channel is at its widest. He ordered his ship slowed for a careful approach to the channel. But without realizing it, he was steering President Kulage directly into a minefield. If he'd read the special instructions the Navy said he'd been given, he would have received these orders that the last channel of Seon Channel is to be used approaching from the south, exactly the channel Nelson wanted to avoid between Tatuba and Bokeisia Island. He was to aim his ship at a landmark called the White Rock and essentially skirt around Aora Island heading northnorthwest parallel to the minefields before turning west directly into Seon Channel for the port. Entering the harbor could only be performed during daylight hours. At around 8:00 a.m., with the white sand and the green palms of Aspirto Santo in sight, President Kulage spotted a ship and challenged it. It was a friendly outbound destroyer, USS Starret, and after a brief exchange of signals. With nothing serious to report, the big troop ship pressed on. Nearly 45 minutes later, President Kulage was on a steady northwesterly course, aiming for the mainland and the eastern side of Tatuba.

[00:16:33]when a small coastal patrol boat was cited. This was the PC 479, a ship imposed to mark the safe entrance to the channel. They flashed a challenge, but incredibly both ships fumbled their responses by the time any clear communication with the Morse lamp could be made. President Culage had already passed by and was now behind Tatuba Island. PC 479 fired up her engines and motored out after the liner, which had essentially missed the exit for the safe harbor entrance.

[00:17:08]The coolage was maintaining a steady 17 knots, a good pace, as she approached the entrance to the channel. Captain Nelson could see ships anchored in the bay, including the big old cruiser USS Chester. Around 9:30 a.m., she flashed a challenge, too, which President Kulage answered correctly, but that was it.

[00:17:27]Then, soon after came an ominous, urgent signal from shore. a lamp flashing the letters S T O P. President Kulage's signals officer, Enson Doran Weinstein, had been busy that morning answering the routine challenges, but that message from Shaw sent a chill down his spine.

[00:17:46]He yelled out a warning to the skipper.

[00:17:48]And at 9:30 a.m., Nelson rang down for President Kulage's engines to be run full of stern. By now, the big liner was in the bay with Tuba Island off to its left hand side and the beckoning white sandy shoreline of the mainland to the right. But Enen Weinstein was horrified to translate the full message from shore, which said, "Stop. You are standing into mines. There could be no avoiding it." President Kulage's 20,000 ton bulk was being driven forward by momentum alone. She entered the minefield and then at 953 the ship's bow contacted a mine and the blast rattled her hull and burst through her side. The bridge railing trembled under Captain Nelson's hands.

[00:18:37]Then it happened again. A second explosion half a minute later shook the decks and men were shuttered out of their bunks. Right away, the big ship began to lean hard over to port as hundreds of tons of water roared in through the ruptured hole plates. Down below in the engine room, the men were suddenly confronted by a wall of white water that burst in and surged around their waists. They ran for the escape ladders and did their best just to escape the torrent. One fireman, Robert Reed, was caught and didn't make it out.

[00:19:07]A second was horribly burned and trapped unmoving in the stokehold with the water rising up around him. On the bridge, Captain Nelson knew right away that the ship was doomed and two great holes must have been punched right through its still sides. He rang the ship's general alarm and the hundreds of men down below rushed to dawn life jackets and file out to muster stations. But Captain Nelson knew he could stop his ship from sinking altogether. He ordered a sudden turn north and pointed the vessel towards the shore of the mainland. Wallowing over to one side and with her engines still thumping, she slowly came around until 3 minutes later her damaged bow made contact with a coral reef. And then slowly, President Culage came to a stop and she was beed in Stokehold. The desperate fight for survival played out as men rushed to escape the machine spaces. The stoker that had been left behind, badly burned and likely not able to move, might have thought it was the end. But the figure squeezed through a vent trunk and grabbed him. It was chief engineer Howard Quinn, joined by first engineer John Payton, who had taken the unorthodox route into the stokehole to retrieve him. The vessel's extreme list and the smooth and slippery walls of the ventilator made even this means of rescue well nigh impossible, read the report from a citation. With complete disregard for the increasing danger to their own position, and without the aid of other than their own hands, lowered themselves down the ventilator into the darkness to the fire room floor plates.

[00:20:43]Under tremendous physical exertion, the rescuers slowly worked their hazardous way up the slippery ventilator, carrying the injured man with them.

[00:20:51]The rescue mission was successful and Quinn would later be awarded the Distinguished Service Medal.

[00:20:57]But if there was chaos down below, then the scene up top was oddly calm. The lengthy, boring journey out from the west coast had been interrupted only with drills. The troops had been forced to repeatedly practice the abandoned ship procedure, hauling on their life jackets and mustering up top. Now they did it for real with the kind of beused level-headedness and humor that's typical in the services. Some even waved to men who'd already climbed down rope ladders and now snapped pictures from the waist deep water. But the more perceptive among them might have noticed President Culage was not totally beached. She was slowly, ever so slowly, slipping below the surface.

[00:21:40]As President Kulage had aimed like a missile at the shoreline, her crew had hurried to throw nets over the side. Now the men streamed down them and into waiting lifeboats down below. It was a precarious journey down the side to be sure. The tilting decks of the vessel reared up four stories tall, but still hundreds made the journey down and over the side, stepping into waiting boats before slushing their way up into the surf and onto the sandy beach. The big liner lent over at something approaching 10° and the evacuation was happening so quickly the men had to ditch their combat gear and all their kit behind.

[00:22:13]But there was no panic. Some had already made it off, whipped out their pocket Kodak cameras and snapped away at the scene. Those men on board waved back at them. Meanwhile, the ship's Davits word into life as the boats were lazily lowered over the side, while from the port are the rescue boats rushed over to assist. Every warship morowed in the harbor must have leaned over under the loads of curious crewmen who lined the railings to watch this big ocean ladder now stuck on the reef. Only President Kulage wasn't stuck. Her list began to grow. Approaching 10:00 a.m., only half an hour after the impact, she was leaning over to 14°.

[00:22:48]Captain Nelson and his officers began to realize that although they had temporarily beached their ship on the reef, the water directly behind them was very deep. It seemed that the liner was likely to list, heal hard over, slip off the reef, and then sink entirely.

[00:23:06]It was a race against time to save as many men and as much material as they possibly could. Down at the waterline, lifeboats gathered men as they stumbled down the precarious rope ladders. But the evacuation wasn't going quickly enough. Ominously, the pristine blue water around the ship had been clouded over with a murky slick of oil. Clearly, one of her big fuel tanks had been ruptured by the blast. No wonder she was going so quickly. Just 10 minutes later, Captain Nelson knew the game was up.

[00:23:33]President Kulage was listing faster and faster with no signs of stopping. The bridging kinometer was showing 16°.

[00:23:40]Now Nelson knew he wasn't just evacuating his troops. He had to give the general abandoned ship because President Kulage was doomed.

[00:23:55]With the list growing worse, the men still on deck had to hold on to steady themselves, and the journey down over the side began to seem far more perilous. Many refused to budge, and the waiting lifeboats were reluctant to get too close on the port side, since now the ship's towering superructure was looming overhead like an unstable cliff face. If the ship rolled, it would crush anything below it. The officers on board began to order men to jump instead. And with the ship's list approaching 20°, Lieutenant Craig Hosma began barking at the men waiting behind to kick the others in the face to get them off.

[00:24:28]Eventually, by hook or by crook, the troops leapt into the water and the crowd on deck began to thin out. At 10:45, President Kulage began to lurch.

[00:24:38]It became clear the end was nigh. The senior officers began to conduct final checks to ensure that all had got away safely. With that extreme list now in excess of 20°, it was all they could do to hold on and not slip down across the ship's 81 foot, nearly 25 meter width.

[00:24:55]Then she rolled dramatically. 45 50°.

[00:25:00]Anybody still inside was thrown off their feet.

[00:25:04]Some of the crew were still overseeing evacuations inside the grand lobbies and the corridors of the liner. They slipped and tumbled as she went, but a lucky few had thought to tie themselves to the far side of the foyer with ropes so they could help haul their buddies out. from one of the starboard side shell doors swung open early in the escape. A dramatic scene began to play out as junior mate Patrick Olsen, warrant officer Robert Washimmer, Captain Warren Kovville, and Lieutenant Ward Macdonald desperately pulled on their ropes to lift men from the port side of the ship's main lobby, which had now become the very bottom of a near 80 ft deep well. They worked hard and in the end just one man was left, Captain Elwood U, the well- reggarded battery commander of the 103rd Field Artillery. The men began to heave on the line standing on the ship's hull. But then President Kulage's steel skeleton rumbled, and she began to slide backwards off the reef into the deeper water. As she did so, she rolled completely onto her side, and time was running out. They pulled and pulled, but try as they might, UT was still nowhere near the shell door. Approaching 10:52 a.m., President Culage began her final plunge, sinking stern first into the deeper water with only the top of her bow propped up on the reef. The men, who were desperately pulling on the rope to save Captain U, suddenly found themselves submerged as roaring white water swept up around their feet and threatened to suck them into the open shell door beside them. They were pulled under and the President Coolage settled deeper until just the tops of her funnels on the tip of her bow were visible. Then, with a great whoo of white spray and dust, she disappeared for good beneath the murky, oily water.

[00:26:43]It had been so sudden and violent that the displaced air had blown fragments of broken glass and debris out through every opening, and junior mate Patrick Olsen, who'd been trying to help pull Captain U, had his face badly cut. But he burst to the surface, followed by the other men who'd been standing by him on the hull. They had all survived, but Captain was nowhere to be seen.

[00:27:14]The entire dramatic spectacle had played out for thousands of shocked witnesses, most of them who had only just been aboard the ship themselves and may not have realized how urgent the situation actually was. Incredibly, almost every man had survived but two, the firemen Robert Reed and Captain Uitt, who was never seen again. That night, as the liner's former compliment settled into temporary billets, they took stock of what had just happened. Bunkked down, no one takes long to get to sleep tonight, wrote Lieutenant Craig Hosma. This has been quite a day. The men are all cheerful, and morale is good, despite the losses they've all suffered. Little more than the clothes we wear and partial pay cards were saved in most cases. They were marvelously calm when the mines exploded, stuck right to their posts. Some thought it was a torpedoing and broke out ammunition, caught guns, etc. President Culage had been gravely wounded, but nearly her entire compliment of troops and crewmen had been evacuated within 45 minutes. It was a miracle Moore hadn't died. But if the fine dollar line steam ship, all that was left behind now was a slick of oil, some scattered debris, and for Captain Nelson and his men, a looming sense of dread. A crack American troop ship had been lost. Good men had died and tons of cargo, weapons, and nearly the entire Pacific Reserve Aquin was lost. Somebody had badly fouled up.

[00:28:46]2 days later from Captain Nelson came a letter addressed to a Spirit of Santos commanding officer. Dear sir, it began.

[00:28:53]Sailing from White Poppy, Numia for Button, Spirit of Santo, on October 24th, we arrived at a point called Hypo off the island outside of the port of Spirit of Santo. Not having had any instructions as to any mines or other dangers to this port. Proceeded on a course, as I thought, to the harbor of Button.

[00:29:13]We contacted two destroyers prior to the entry where the ship struck the two mines. No information was given to us and no challenges were made by either of those two ships. The first intimation was from a signal station further in the harbor telling me to stop that we were approaching danger. I in turn stopped the engines and backed the engines but with the speed that we were carrying we still went too far and we struck two mines. I immediately with the speed we had left headed the ship for the beach and ordered abandoned ship which was done and completed in 45 minutes of 5,000 personnel for which there was only a loss of one crew member sailing from White Poppy. No one had mentioned to me no one informed me that there was a minefield at a spirit of Santo. Had there been some knowledge of mines I would never have approached anywhere within miles of the port. There was no guard boat anywhere visible.

[00:30:04]Yours respectfully, Henry Nelson, Master SS President Culage.

[00:30:14]This was Nelson's account of things, and he hurriedly penned it down. He knew the Navy would be looking for a scapegoat.

[00:30:21]As commander of President Kulage, naturally, he seemed like the likely choice. This was his story, and he stuck to it. He was right to be worried. Three inquiries were headed his way and charges were being laid by Admiral William Holsey himself, commander of the entire South Pacific theater. It began with the preliminary inquiry just a month after the sinking aboard the destroyer tender Whitney. 5 days of proceedings resulted in the recommendation of further action against Captain Nelson. The sinking Hy said was through Nelson's negligence that on the day of sailing he had been delivered special instructions which had included information about the minefields. Nelson maintained he never got the papers. The inquiry concluded the military commission was set to bring formal charges against Nelson in December.

[00:31:10]The Navy prosecution maintained that Nelson had been handed a complete list of sailing instructions, including those detailed orders on how to enter the harbor and which channel entrances to avoid, and that he had simply ignored them. Enson John Denovo swore he handed the special sailing instructions to Nelson on the bridge of President Kage himself at Numia and that Nelson had signed for them. But his officers rallied behind their skipper. They pointed out that the approved approach from the south was far too narrow for a ship of Coolage's size and the eastern approach was the only logical entrance.

[00:31:43]Too bad that it had been mined. Of particular concern to the Coolage men was the fact that despite the fact their ship had lumbered for some time into the giant minefield, not one of those passing destroyers nor the waiting patrol craft had intercepted her to direct her to the southern entrance or even bothered to flash a warning about mines. Nelson finally had the opportunity to make his own statement.

[00:32:06]In part, it read like this. The sea has been my life for over 44 years. I've sailed under various instructions from both private and government agencies. In all that time, I have neither disregarded nor violated any instructions received unless they would have imperiled the safety of my vessel.

[00:32:24]I've been master of the SS President Coolage since early 1940, period of over 2 and 1/2 years. My affection for that vessel was as great as that a man may have for an inanimate object. I did not cause the loss of the SS President Culage. I received no special instructions for entrance to Seond channel. I directed my ship to that channel in the safest manner possible with due consideration for the information that I had regarding it.

[00:32:50]With the information I had, it would have been poor seamanship to have directed my ship through the narrow Payo passage when a wider less navigationally hazardous entrance was available. I have been subject to this trial by military commission at a foreign place and have been without the advice and comfort of my friends and family during this period. I have not been allowed to communicate with my company in order to receive advice, instruction, or aid.

[00:33:14]It's been necessary for me to entrust my defense of the charge before the military commission to those who were not previously well known to me, either personally or by reputation. I reaffirm my innocence of the charge and specifications. My whole life, career, and activities have been foreign to such.

[00:33:31]Captain Henry Nelson did not have a reputation for carelessness, and the commission agreed. They found him not guilty and that the Navy did not have a case to bring against him. There was a third inquiry by the Coast Guard, but by then the case was largely closed. Henry Nelson was exonerated and the whole unfortunate affair was put down to miscommunication and inefficiency. After all, Holly and the Navy had bigger fish to fry. The Illusian Islands campaign was in full swing and the whole unfortunate President Kage affair was swept quickly from the headlines.

[00:34:12]It might have been simply a foolish misunderstanding, but the loss of those two men had made it a tragedy. Nobody knows exactly why Captain Uitt was trapped inside the ship at all. Some reported he had gone back to find his men or to release some from the brig. In any case, his loss was felt throughout his unit. For his efforts, he was posumously awarded the Distinguished Service Cross. The men who' stayed behind to pull their mates out of the metal tomb as it sank were awarded the soldiers medal. More than 5,300 men had escaped with their lives. But the ship sinking was one in dozens and dozens of ships lost in late 1942 alone as the war raged around the globe. It was consigned to the history books. But for one community today, the president Kulage has a second life.

[00:35:05]Since the ship only lies 21 m or 68 ft below the surface, she's become a divers's paradise. She's a giant time capsule frozen where she came to rest.

[00:35:15]Rows of jeeps sit in their cradles or lashed to the deck, now draped in marine growth. Through the 1970s, salvage work stripped the big ship of some of her more expensive fittings. For example, her big propellers were dynamited clean off. 50 tons of artillery shells and rifle ammunition were winched out of her holds. In a particularly bizarre twist, about 200 tons of her oil were pumped out, bunkered, and sent over into the liner Arcadia, which regularly visited on cruisers.

[00:35:43]Divers to the wreck have a peculiar habit. In the ship's smoking lounge, there had once hung a ceramic panel depicting an Elizabeth and woman standing besides a unicorn. For years, it had hung still attached to the wall above the fireplace, but with the ravages of time, it dropped to the floor and was salvaged and raised up.

[00:36:01]Incredibly though, it was put back into the wreck after a little conservation work. Still, after all this time, the original color, the crimson red of the woman's dress and the green of the grass shows through. Divers to the wreck indulge in giving the lady a little kiss as they pass.

[00:36:20]President Kulage lies on her port side, and she's deteriorating. Ships aren't designed to lay on their side like that for prolonged periods of time, and it speeds up their decay. The smoking room is totally collapsed. The lady in the unicorn had to be moved to the dining saloon instead. And whole sections of the superructure, including the liner's opulent lounges and foyers, have come down, too. She's a rusting steel sarcophagus for Captain Elward Uitt and fireman Robert Reed. And she's physical testimony to the day the Great American liner was run straight into a minefield.