Paul S. Vaitses Jr. '42: Keeping Memories Afloat
Fourty-four years is a long time for a love affair to last, but for Paul S. Vaitses Jr. '42 and a great grey lady named Mamie, there are no signs of their relationship going under. Mamie is the U.S.S. Massachusetts, a 680-foot, 35,000-ton battleship/museum, which more than three million tourists have visited in Fall River, Mass. And Vaitses, who keeps Mamie shipshape in every sense of the word, is the nation's only commander of a historic ship who actually served on it (during World War II in the Pacific).
After his 1942 graduation from Dartmouth, Vaitses shipped out on Mamie as a junior division officer. He participated in the invasion of the Gilbert Islands and also saw fierce action in the Marshalls, the Carolines, Yap, Palau, and Hollandia. When he left Mamie for other duty, he never expected to see her again, much less make her a career.
"You can easily fall in love with a ship when you spend so much time aboard. Mamie was my home, my recreation, my safety, and my life in wartime. I developed a deep psychological attachment to her which I've never lost," Vaitses explains.
Bringing Mamie to Fall River from a mothball fleet more than 20 years ago provided an important catalyst for the city's waterfront improvement and economic revitalization. This ship quickly became the centerpiece of Battleship Cove, which now includes other vintage World War II ships, and the springboard for Heritage State Park and Museum. Formerly, all that most tourists knew about the city was that hatchettoting Lizzie Borden had lived there.
In the years he has commanded Mamie, Vaitses has become nationally known as an authority on the preservation and management of ships-turned-museums. During his two-year term as president of the Historic Naval Ships Association, he repeatedly criss-crossed the country, meeting with his counterparts who keep 40 famous battles hips, submarines, cruisers, destroyers, and other craft in top condition for their visitors.
Tourists to Mamie catch sight of Vaitses, natty in navy blue blazer and gold-braided visored cap, or hear his resonant voice over the loudspeaker giving a "now-hear-this" announcement.
Just up a ladder, in the former captain's stateroom, Vaitses has filled his office with colorful World War II memorabilia. Keeping the decor as authentic as possible, he uses the original furniture of battleship grey metal. A microcomputer and a copier represent concessions to the technological 1980s and help him and his staff keep in touch with enthusiastic veterans and friends of Big Mamie all over the globe.
When renovations/improvements become necessary, they blend in unobtrusively with the setting. And some of them, while invisible to the casual visitor, are critical: for example, reinforcing the teak and steel deck and repairing the underwater sea chests.
Aboard the battleship, one hears the sounds of enthusiastic childish chatter and scampering footsteps. Not only are school youngsters and scouts among Mamie's most exuberant daytime visitors, but they also relish the experience of staying below overnight as part of a special educational program which Vaitses established.
The last two decades brought Vaitses major midlife changes. In the mid-19605, while two-term mayor of Melrose, Mass., he spearheaded a program of school building and business development. He supplemented his modest mayoral salary by continuing work as a Boston stockbroker. At the end of his term, Melrose's bachelor mayor got married, became a father, and began looking around for new challenges.
"The stock market was shaky. I thought about continuing with politics but also wanted some steady work to support my family. I didn't want to leave behind what I loved, though: public service, building things, history-oriented activities."
Through a network of veterans, Vaitses had heard that the navy planned to scrap the battleship Massachusetts, then anchored in Norfolk, Va. While mayor, he and the group had organized a fund-raising effort to purchase the ship as a museum, find a new mooring for her, and sail her to Fall River. The operation was full steam ahead when his colleagues asked him to become chief administrator.
"I intended to stay just a few years to get things on a solid footing. But I've been here ever since!" he smiles.
How is managing a battleship/museum similar to running a medium-sized city? "There are many similarities," he maintains. "Figuratively speaking, I've just stepped from one room into another. Operating an attraction that draws 150,000 people a year requires the same sorts of skills you use as a mayor. You greet visitors, host dignitaries, keep things functioning smoothly, manage a budget, carry out major capital projects, develop a constituency, and drum up public support."
In talking with Vaitses, one can't help noticing that he makes his present age 65 seem like 35. "My job couldn't be better. I never considered that cutting loose and starting a whole new career around age 50 involved a risk because it felt so natural. It never occurred to me that it would be anything but successful "
Paul S. Vaitses Jr. aboard the battleship I museum "Mamie,
Ann Carlson writes for newspapers and magazines in the Boston area and operates a graphicdesign studio in Marblehead, Mass.
