Skippers

The U. S. merchant marine may not have many ships in operation, but among them is the largest ship afloat, the 59,957-ton S. S. Leviathan of the United States Lines. The U. S. Lines are responsible to the U. S. Shipping Board, which is responsible to Congress, which is responsible to all the people.

Last week Skipper Herbert Hartley of the Leviathan, commercial commodore for all the people, resigned. He said he wanted a home ashore after 35 years at sea. He said he would go into the cotton business. To succeed him, the Shipping Board promoted Vice Commodore Harold A. Cun- ningham of the United States Lines, long captain of the S. S. George Washington, now of the Leviathan.

Commodore Cunningham was the man everyone had expected would command the Leviathan when, refurbished after her War service, she was recommissioned in 1923. As a lieutenant commander in the Navy during the War, Commodore Cunningham had navigated the Leviathan as a troopship after she was seized from Germany and her name, the Vaterland, erased.

In 1923, just before the Leviathan was ready, Harold A. Cunningham was senior officer of the U. S. Lines and Herbert Hartley, having had the bad luck to run aground first the Manchuria and then the Mongolia of the American Line, was a skipper without a ship and with no great hopes of getting one. Last week, Mr. Hartley himself retold the "fluke" by which he became Commodore.

It was one day in Washington. Friends introduced him to some Shipping Board officials and they lunched together.

"I had no more idea of being offered the command of the Leviathan that day than a child," said Mr. Hartley. "When we were chatting after the meal one of the officials said to me, 'How would you like to have command of the Leviathan?' I replied, 'Stop your kidding.' To my sur- prise, he said, 'I am not kidding. We want a captain for the Leviathan, and if you would like to have the ship, come round to the Shipping Board offices at 4 o'clock this afternoon.'

"I did so, and shortly after 5 o'clock that day I left the building with my appointment to take command of the Leviathan in my pocket. Commodore Cunningham, "Handsome Harry" to his colleagues and a charming memory to ladies and gentlemen who have sat at his table, received his promotion with little comment. He was bringing the George Washington through a ponderous North Atlantic storm at the moment. After docking, all he said was: "The bridge of the Leviathan is just a little higher, but I'll be just the same up here. Come up and see me."

Retiring-Commodore Hartley did not go into the cotton business after all, instead he accepted a post as "chief operating officer" of the Transoceanic Corp., an organization which hopes to borrow money from the Shipping Board to build six fast liners and inaugurate a four-day trans-atlantic service to Europe. Said Chief Operating Officer Hartley: "I thank God for this opportunity ... to put our country back on the high seas. . . ."