Wharton by the sea; the federal government spends millions to train shipping executives at the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy

Washington Monthly, Oct, 1987 by Susan Feinberg

Wharton by the Sea

It looks like a military academy. Walking through the gates at the U.S. Merchant Marine Academy at Kings Point, New York, visitors see the undergraduates, called midshipmen, march in crisp uniforms and salute like their brethren at the U.S. Naval Academy in Annapolis. Overlooking Long Island Sound, the handsome campus is dotted with sea-weathered anchors and portraits of war heroes.

It sounds like a military academy. When the midshipmen stand stiff at inspection, there are echoes of a Lous Gossett movie. "I can't hear you!' "Sir, no sir.' "I can't hear you!' On command, freshmen, called plebes, shout the alma mater or bark out the King's Point motto--acta non verba, "deeds not words.'

And it sure does feel like a military academy. Midshipmen are shaken by surprise bunk checks in the middle of the night. For scheduled inspections they lose sleep, too, pulling all-nighters to wax floors, scrub toilets, and polish brass. That's a breeze compared to the brutal two-week indoctrination, when plebes have on occasion been ordered to march to the garbage room, rifles in tow, hop on one foot and chant, "ha ha ha.' Little wonder that Kings Point officials boast that the academy "out-militaries the military.'

Even though it is a federally run, four-year military service academy, Kings Point isn't West Point or Annapolis. Although it was created during World War II to train a special breed of commercial sailor who could guide ships through dangerous waters, it has become a kind of business school with calesthenics. More than three-fourths of its 1986 graduates took jobs in civilian industries, not the military. And the majority of those are ashore. An academy grad is more likely to earn a nice living designing financial models for a shipping consulting firm than preparing for battle on the high seas. Of course, Kings Point does have one thing in common with West Point: the federal government foots the bill. This year, the Department of Transportation, which oversees the academy, will spend more than $22 million for what is little more than boot camp for the shipping industry.

The presidential yacht

While West Point and Annapolis require their graduates to spend five years in uniform in exchange for their free education, Kings Point graduates don't have it so rough. Before the class of 1986, they were required to serve in the reserves of one of the armed forces, usually the Navy--a commitment of a few weeks a year. When it came time to choose a full-time job, they had only a "moral obligation' to go into the maritime industry. A recent alumni bulletin shows just how obliged some members of the class of '84 felt. One merchant mariner fulfilled his patriotic duty by starting his own horse ranch in Idaho, another by writing for a newspaper. Courageously, one patrolled the halls of Congress as a lobbyist for the shipping industry. Verba non acta.

Concened that Kings Point grads were parlaying their free educations into lucrative, dockside careers, Congress imposed post-graduation requirements for all cadets beginning with the class of 1986. They still have to do a stint in the reserves. Additionally, they must maintain their Coast Guard licenses, a nuisance that doesn't even require going to sea. But Congress added a tough new provision: either serve five years in the armed forces or in a "maritime-related career.'

As you might expect, many a merchant marine has shown a seaman's resourcefulness when choosing that related career. One salty dog is working in the maritime insurance business in Chicago. Another did a tour of duty as chief engineer of the presidential yacht.

In typical fashion, Congress set out to tighten a requirement and wound up making it as vague as ever. The definition of maritime-related has so many loopholes that DOT officials don't know whether or not to count lobbying Congress for shipping subsidies as a tour of duty. "That's a grey area in the middle that hasn't gelled to move one way or the other,' says Arthur Freedberg of the Maritime Administration.

Little wonder, then, that only 17 percent of the class of '86 has headed for the life of push-ups in the armed forces. Only 20 percent actually went to sea as merchant mariners, in part because of the lack of seafaring jobs. (U.S. shipping ranks twelfth in the world behind countries like Panama and Liberia.) So more than half the class wound up in civilian jobs on shore, mostly as managers and engineers with shipping and oil companies, naval architectural firms, and defense contractors like General Dynamics.

But don't think that the martial training--plus 11 months of touring at sea, and compulsory shouting at football games--is somehow being wasted in the world of business. Since Temple, Barker, and Sloan, shipping consulting firm, asked Jeff Drake '86 to "come on board,' as he puts it, he has felt prepared to deal with pressured situations: "If I have an hour to finish a report, I'm able to do it and not get rattled.' Eric Mensing, Kings Point '81, now a manager in government sales at American President Lines, Ltd., says Kings Point did a "good job preparing me for the business world.' And, he adds, it teaches you about "taking orders, being on time, chain of command.' American President Lines moves some military supplies, but mostly the stuff of which trade deficits are made, like imported designer clothes and VCRs.