The Andrea Doria, Peter Gimbel and Marion Gilligan

THE ANDREA DORIA
The Italia Line’s SS Andrea Doria has intersected my life a few times and greatly sparked my interest in the sea. I was nine years old when it sunk on July 25, 1956, only 50 miles off Nantucket and 100 plus from New York Harbor. She was making for New York and had the latest radar equipment which should have been very useful given she was making headway in a fog bank which is a usual occurrence at her nautical position of Latitude 40` 29’ 30.0012” N Longitude -69’ 50’ 60 W, that time of year. Outside that fogbank was the Stockholm, a Swedish cruise ship also outfitted with radar. Both vessels could not visually see each other. When the Andrea Doria and Stockholm became aware of each other it was too late, and they collided. Amongst many theories is that the third mate on the Stockholm misread the distance between the ships on the radar. They collided at a force of about 40 knots. The Andrea Doria sank for many of the same reasons the Titanic did. Watertight compartments failed and watertight doors that were supposed to be installed were not. She was considered one of the most beautiful ships ever built. The only known movie of her gracefully sailing is at the beginning of “On The Waterfront” as Terry Molloy, (Marlon Brando) looks out towards the Hudson River. Brando’s words haunt me. “I could have been somebody, I could have been a contender! Instead of a bum, which is what I am! You should have taken care of me Charlie, you were my brother!” Ah! But I digress as usual. The Andrea Doria went to the bottom in a mere 12 hours and is the second most famous cruise ship to sink, the third being the Lusitania.

PETER GIMBEL
Peter Gimbel was heir to the Gimbel Brothers Department Store Trust. Born in 1927 in New York to a life of privilege, he served in the Japanese occupation after WW2, graduated from Yale, and went into banking. It didn’t interest him. He then pursued a life of adventure. His first adventure was parachuting into the Chilean Andes to find the lost city of Vilcabamba. He then took up scuba diving just as Jacque Cousteau’s new inventions in underwater diving were gaining popularity. Peter took to it like a “duck in water!”
When Peter heard the Andrea Doria had sunk, he moved fast. He was swimming around her in more than 200 feet of water in less than 24 hrs. Peter made fifteen dives to Andrea Doria during his diving career. Swift currents there are extremely dangerous. Several divers were swept away and never found or if a diver rose too quickly, they could succumb to decompression sickness. Peter was lucky. Though fifteen divers were lost over the years he continued to explore and monitor the ship’s slow degradation while bringing up artifacts and “Treasures” over the years. In 1981 he recovered one of Andrea Doria’s safes which became a big 1984 TV special. There was a count down and they blew the door off. Nothing, Nada! The captain and part of the crew were on the ship for hours before they left. Did anyone think the crew wouldn’t do some rescuing of their own?
Over his life, Peter continued pursuing diving and film. He worked with National Geographic and the New York Geographical Society. With Peter Mattheson, he wrote and filmed “Blue Water, White Death”, our first look at great white sharks in the wild. He filmed great white sharks attacking him in one of the first shark cages which became an inspiration for parts in Peter Benchley’s book and Spielberg’s Film “Jaws”. Two other films he produced were “The Mystery of The Andrea Doria” and “Andrea Doria, The Final Chapter”. There is a tie to Peter Gimbel which I experienced in my life, so let’s dive into that.

MARION GILLIGAN
Marion Gilligan lived next door to my boyhood home. Marion lived with her elder aunt “May” Gilligan. Marion’s life was filled with sadness. She was raised by May because Marion’s parents died when she was young. Marion went to college, became a Latin teacher, and was betrothed to marry. The night before her wedding, her future husband was killed in a car wreck after a bachelor party out on Long Island in the early 1930s. It was too much to bear. She remained single for the rest of her life. During summer breaks She would tour Europe for seven weeks and cruise back.
Marion was on the Andrea Doria that fateful day. She was lucky and was saved with nothing but what she had on. Her trunk had been packed in her stateroom as they were only a few hours from disembarking in NYC. There was neither time nor space in the lifeboats to take it. She was picked up from a Doria lifeboat and continued to New York Harbor on the SS Ile de France which was standing by to help at the wreck site. Now Marion was a very proper person. Her clothes were now dirty and shabby. She called Aunt May to have my father wait until her cab appeared and meet her with one of her stylish coats to throw over herself to look composed when walking into her house. My father felt it was ridiculous and had a lot to say about it as he waited on the stoop, all of which I cannot post here.
Marion could drink anyone under the table. She’d work in the rose garden, being very particular in its care. She’d put out the hose to water sections of it while proceeding through the beds. My brother and I would turn off the water, pull the hose slowly back, wrap it neatly around the hose holder then hide in the bushes and wait for “May! May! Did you just put away the hose I was using?” No, Marion, I’m in here reading, dear” We must have done that a hundred times and never got caught. Probably because Marion was always in a constant state of inebriation.
One day in May 1964, Marion got a call from one, Peter Gimbel. He had been trying to track her down because he had something for her relating to her voyage on the ill-fated Andrea Doria. He located Marion when he found a copy of the ship’s manifest. He cross-checked her address and told her that a truck from Gimbels Dept. Store would be dropping a surprise off the next Saturday morning. Saturday came. There had to be fifty people on our and May’s stoops. Mom’s coffee and crumb buns were served as we waited. Marion was already one sheet to the wind.
At 11:00 a.m. a Gimbels truck pulls up. Out come two big guys who pull out a big, sealed, carton from the back with Marion Gilligan named as the receiver. They drove away. Everyone was yelling “Open it, open it” while staring at it. As usual, it was left to my dad to pull out his ever-handy jack knife, cut open the corrugated box on the lawn, and remove a hard-for-wear, rusty, warped, steam trunk with the barely legible name of Marion Gilligan on its side. Marion had gone in the house for some reinforcement as Aunt May and everyone else pressed my father to “Open it! Open it!” as he shimmied the lock with his knife.
Out came Marion totally braced by her medicinal support stating unequivocally to my dad, “Frank! Don’t dare lift that lid! I have my nighties and undies in there and I don’t need the entire neighborhood staring at them.” So, Dad carried it into their living room and never another word was ever said about it.

ON WITH LIFE
The Andrea Doria is called the “Mount Everest” of wrecks and one of the most dangerous to dive yet it remains a popular diving spot.
Peter Gimbel continued diving and filming all over the world. He died at 60 years old in 1987, still relatively young but he lived a full life doing exactly what he wanted to do. Marion helped me pass four years of Latin courses and the regents. I swear she gave me the test and never knew it. My Franciscan teachers always quizzed me as to why it always sounded like I slurred my Latin. I kept it between Marion and myself.