Chester A. O’Hara, the United States Customs roundsman strolled along the pier and casually offered a reminder to several of the impatient passengers to stay in line as he and his fellow customs officers neared the completion of their official duties. Two hour earlier, the North German Lloyd liner Muenchen had arrived at the pier at Morton and West Streets to unload her two hundred and sixty-seven passengers after her Trans-Atlantic voyage from Bremen. With the first- and second-class passengers and their luggage already cleared, only the eighty steerage passengers remained aboard the liner. They too, he was aware, needed to complete the process. Amidst the bustling activity of the customs officials, the gang of stevedores were already hard at work to begin unloading the cargo from the liner’s holds. With a focus on cargo hold number 6, the longshoremen had already removed fifteen tons of cargo when a thick, dense smoke began emanating from the compartment. Several of the stevedores attempted to stamp out the source of the smoke but quickly realized that it was out of control. The men retreated from the hold. There was a fire aboard the Muenchen.

The Muenchen was built by AG Vulcan Stettin in Germany. She was five hundred and forty-six feet, five inches in length, had a sixty-five-foot beam and a draft of forty-three feet, seven inches. She was powered by two triple expansion engines and was capable of nearly sixteen knots at her top speed. She was lunched on November 25, 1922, and made her maiden voyage on June 21, 1923. The Muenchen would be the first German liner to complete the Trans-Atlantic passenger route following the end of World War I and the first German liner to enter New York Harbor. In her original design, she had four hundred and ninety-four cabin class, two hundred and sixty-six tourist class, and two hundred and fifty-one third class accommodations. On the morning of February 11, 1930, her ability to survive was tested by smoke and fire in her cargo hold.
The smoke was hard to dismiss, and alarms were immediately set off to address the dangerous situation. The head stevedore, John P. Schmidt, and Herman Grabley, of the North German Lloyd line office, along with Second Officer Blet, who had been overseeing the unloading of the cargo, acted in an almost synchronized fashion. Second Officer Blet immediately ordered three hose lines to discharge water into the hold to stem the fire. The smoke grew darker and denser. As alarms passed through the ship, Inspector V.S. Jankowski informed his team to quietly and efficiently ensure that the eighty steerage passengers exited onto the pier post-haste. While the requirements of his charge remained at the forefront of his thinking, he also did not want to unnecessarily endanger their lives due to bureaucratic responsibilities. Quietly and efficiently, he reminded his colleagues of the Health Bureau, to get them clear of the ship and onto the pier. Meanwhile, the smoldering fire of unknown origin continued to spread within the cargo hold.
It was clear to nearby tugboats that something was going on aboard the liner. Several tugs immediately drew alongside as the smoke worsened. The tug Thomas Willet, with pilot John Harvey in command, maneuvered alongside. His firemen were at the ready along the decks of the tug as it was clear that their assistance would be needed. The tug Newton, of the Lackawanna Railroad also drew alongside to assist if a decision was made to pull the liner out into the Hudson River. With the stevedores cleared from the number six cargo hold, it was the hope of Second Officer Blet that the dousing of water from the three hoses would stem the fire. His worst fear was about to come to fruition.
A horrific explosion rocked the liner from stem to stern. The blast, occurring in the cargo hold, set debris outward and skyward. The tug Thomas Willet’s pilot house, one of her stacks, and some of her superstructure was ripped clear by the blast. Pilot John Harvey was struck by a part of the ruptured hull and killed instantly with his body hurled into the water. Two of his crew, Michael Walsh and Alfred Traybolt were also thrown into the water. Dazed and confused by the explosion, amazingly both firemen were unscathed by the blast. Aboard Newton, the rear cabin was destroyed, and all her windows were shattered by the horrific explosion. Despite her aft rails being sheared off by the blast, none of the crew were injured. The liner Muenchen’s small cargo hold fire was quickly turning into a major situation. More of New York’s bravest raced to the scene to render aid and assistance.
Meanwhile, aboard the liner, Captain Feodor Brunnings, attempted to take command of the situation. It was clear that the fire was raging out of control. With the passengers successfully clear of the ship, he now had to ensure the safety of his officers and crew. Word was passed to abandon ship. The orders sent his crew onto the pier and into the water as the smoke engulfed the full length of the ship. Stuck in his cabin and unable to escape through the passageway, Captain Brunnings was able to extricate himself through a porthole and into the water. As the officers and crew made their escape, the fire continued in earnest. Once the officers and crew had been mustered up, one of the electricians who had been stationed in the engine room, was reported missing.
Every fire company from Sixty-Eighth Street to the Battery was soon on scene as the situation grew to five alarms. From both sides of the pier, a tangled web of fire hoses spewed water along the length of the liner. From the water, four fire boats including John Purroy Mitchel and James Duane along the starboard side of the liner, and New Yorker and William L. Strong along the north side, maneuvered as close as possible and sent streams of water onto the smoke and fire engulfed ship. Three smaller explosions rocked the liner during the firefighting, but the firemen continued their efforts despite the dangerous conditions. The onslaught of water would continue for nearly twelve hours with a command post established in the pier offices overlooking the burning liner. With the liner slowly settling by the stern due to the tons water from the firefighting effort, the first one hundred firemen were not ordered aboard until after midnight. Dragging their lines across the decks, their efforts were to ensure that the other holds were not endangered by the spreading fire. Thanks to the efforts of the brave firemen, the fire was finally fully extinguished by the following morning.
While officials of the North German Lloyd line were adamant that there had been no indication of a fire prior to arrival and docking, others believed that the fire had been slowly smoldering while the ship neared port. Exposure to the air once the cargo hold was unsealed had sealed its fate. Three investigations quickly began to determine the cause of the fire. The New York Fire Department, the insurance underwriters, and the North German Lloyd all wanted to determine the cause of the fire. The New York Fire Department believed that “spontaneous combustion” with the cargo in the hold was the cause. The insurance underwriters wanted to ensure complete understanding as they did not want to pay out on the insurance claims associated with the loss if negligence on behalf of the liner or her officers could be determined. The North German Lloyd line wanted to determine if a more nefarious genesis was involved. A mysterious fire aboard the Muenchen’s sister ship, the Europa while in the shipyard, on March 26, 1929, had led some to believe that heated labor issues had ignited the blaze.
While the investigators poured through available evidence and the charred liner, stock of the liner was taken into consideration. At initial inspection, the fourth, fifth and six holds were completely flooded. The forward holds, one, two and three, which contained thirty-five hundred tons of toys, linens, woolens, crockery and machinery, appeared to have been undamaged in the fire and firefighting operation. Under the masterful management of Merritt-Chapman and Scott Corporation, divers were soon lowered into the murky waters to complete an inspection of the hull of the Muenchen. After their initial inspection, and despite the belief that the hull had been severely damaged in the four explosions, it appeared that the liner had escaped a catastrophic rupture below the water line. Subsequent dives, the following day, discovered one hull plate on the starboard side had been shaken loose and about twenty rivets had been blown out of the hull by the various explosions. Despite the damage, the liner remained seaworthy and could be pumped free of the copious tons of water utilized to extinguish the flames. Meanwhile, the inspection topside and into the bowels of the liner produced some positive news when it was discovered that seven thousand canaries and a pair of Dobermans had miraculously survived the fire, explosions, and the firefighting efforts. Sadly, the one missing crewman, third assistant engineer Gustav Franke, remained unaccounted for during the first few days of the investigation.
As salvage efforts continued, Dr. Paul Schwartz, Acting Consul General of the German Consulate, questioned Captain Feodor Brunnings and his officers. After the questioning, Dr. Schwartz offered that it was his “belief” that the fire was “purely accidental.” The Fire Department surmised that “spontaneous ignition” had caused the fire due to the arrangement of cargo in the hold. The North German Lloyd line officials initially agreed with the spontaneous combustion theory but after completing tests of the cargo, vehemently disagreed. Some, within the shipping community, remained steadfast that an incendiary device had been the cause of the fire. In the final report issued by Fire Marshal Thoms P. Brophy, spontaneous combustion was listed as the cause with no explanation as to the subsequent explosions that occurred.
On April 4, 1930, the lifeless body of the sole missing crewman was recovered from the engine room. Gustav Franke had perished at his post. He was twenty-three years old and died when the first explosion rocked the liner and plunged the ship into total darkness. Three days later, with the Muenchen successfully towed to the Robbins Drydock in Brooklyn, the unloading of the remaining cargo commenced. Repairs to the hull continued and a plan to have her towed to Germany for permanent repairs was initially floated by company officials. By late April, it was determined that despite her partial sinking and the extensive fire, she would be seaworthy to complete the Trans-Atlantic voyage under her own power. On May 8th, 1930, roughly two months after she had been severely damaged due to the cargo hold fire, the Muenchen departed New York for Bremen.
The liner Muenchen was subsequently repaired and returned to service. Renamed General von Steuben in 1938, and later with her name shortened to just Steuben, she was acquired for utilization as an accommodation ship for the Kriegsmarine in 1939. Utilized throughout the war, she was ordered to support the transportation of wounded and refugees from the Baltic seaport of Pillau in early February 1945 bound for Swinemunde as Russian forces feverishly advanced. On February 9, 1945, with over forty-two hundred souls aboard, the Steuben was struck by two torpedoes from the Russian submarine S-13. The liner sank in seven minutes and only six hundred and fifty souls were saved. The wreck was discovered in May of 2004 and remains a war grave for those who perished in the sinking.
Despite the fire aboard the Muenchen on February 11, 1930, which lead to the partial sinking of the liner, only several months later she would return to service in record time in one of the most successful salvage operations of the era. Due to the heroic efforts of the firemen, both ashore and afloat, a disaster of epic proportions had been averted. Sadly, one of the liner’s crew perished in the explosions and subsequent partial sinking, and one of New York’s bravest, tug pilot John J. Harvey was killed when the first explosion ripped through the cargo hold and hurled debris toward the tugs stationed alongside ready to render aid and assistance.
In the wake of the fire and loss of life, the City of New York and the New York Fire Department honored its hero when it launched her newest firefighting boat named in his honor. The John J. Harvey would be the first fireboat named after a member of her ranks and would serve New York City for over sixty years, a testament to the hero who perished when answering the call to assistance aboard the Muenchen when she caught fire on February 11, 1930, in our waters.
