Meeks Liberty Ship

We have hundreds of sites off the white sands of Pensacola and so many times people as me how they all found their final resting place. I've been busy doing some research and have uncovered some pretty interesting answers. This is the first in a series to help shed light on how Pensacola came to be one of the best dive secrets in the world.

Maynard Meeks was picked on by bullies as a child. He grew up on the poor side of town, under Final on 18 at a busy Nebraska airport. And every day the planes roared over his head as he tried to play he imagined where all those rich people were flying off to. And every evening the noise of the airplanes distracted him from his studies, and every night the constant operations of the airport kept him awake. With all the noise, and with every passing airplane carrying rich people to some far off place, the bitterness in Meeks grew. He swore to himself that one day he’d fly his own airplane, something most rich people never get to do.

Years later, Meeks, an uncoordinated, yet excellent student graduated from the University of Nebraska on an ROTC scholarship and was commissioned an Ensign in the US Navy. He was immediately sent to Pensacola to fulfill his lifelong dream of being an aviator.

For the next few months, Meeks excelled at the academic portions of flight school, but failed miserably when it came to stick and rudder, and, consequently was recycled several times.

Finally, two days before water survival—the furthest point in training he’d ever reached, he washed out for good and was reassigned.

During that time, Carrier Qualification operations were conducted out here in the Gulf of Mexico, 30 miles off shore from Pensacola. For weeks at a time, aviators were sent aboard the ship, and learned everything about carrier ops. And every Friday and Saturday night, the aviators would climb aboard a small ship that would take them into town for liberty.

As cruel fate would have it, Meeks was reassigned as a liberty ship Captain in Pensacola. Having washed out of flight training, it was now his job to ferry these hot-shot pilots into town so they could meet the prettiest women, drink the best beer, and live the life Meeks had dreamed of his entire life.

It wasn’t long before the bitterness grew inside and his resentment was more than he could handle and he began to hate the men he taxied into town.

Then one Friday, Meeks snapped. That morning, he lined the keel with explosives. And on that early spring night, with a load of 200 hot-shots with their after-shaves and colognes and their crisp uniforms on board, Meeks bitterness caught up with him. He reasoned the with the loss of 200 students, the Navy would be desperate enough that he would be given another chance to fly So about eight miles off Pensacola beach, ignited the charges, sending the Liberty ship to the bottom.

But as cruel, cruel fate would have it, there was only one person on board that liberty ship that night who had not gone through water survival training. And while all 200 aviators were rescued, only Meeks perished in that chilly night.

That was many years ago. And some say that in early spring when the moon is right--much like it is on this early spring night—Meeks haunts the Liberty ship, hoping to claim the souls of lost aviators, pilots, and if he’s desperate enough--NFOs and navigators. So if you hear the roar of an airplane, or are rocked by an unseen explosion while diving on the Liberty Ship in Pensacola, watch out. Meeks may be lurking about.