Operation Sail 1976: How New York City Came Together in a Time of Crisis

By Angelina Lambros

On July 4, 1976, New York City celebrated the Bicentennial of American independence with a parade of ships that began at the Verrazano Narrows Bridge and moved up the Hudson River. Officially titled “Operation Sail,” more than 200 ships gathered for the event. With more than six million spectators, it became the largest crowd in New York City’s history. [1] For America's largest city where people regularly turned out for special events, Operation Sail proved truly exceptional.

“Amerigo Vespucci (Italy) in New York Harbor during OpSail 76,” Marc Rochkind, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons.

When first envisioned in 1971, Operation Sail's planners intended it to be an event capable of bringing New Yorkers together; a challenging task given the cantankerous social and political divisions that riled the U.S. during the 1960s and 1970s. This was especially the case for New York City. Hit hard by the fiscal crisis, the 1970s in New York City were a time of distrust in the government, economic troubles, and high crime. In New York and across the nation, Bicentennial planning efforts therefore focused on celebration and unity, articulating a very particular narrative of the American past. For those in charge of its planning, Operation Sail was intended to both lift the nation’s spirits and demonstrate that the city could find unity through celebration.

“Barba Negra Sails into Newport during Operation Sail ‘76 celebrations,” Summer 1976, South Street Seaport Museum Archives, Slide Collection.

Planning Operation Sail

Operation Sail was one of many events that celebrated the Bicentennial. Other key events included parades in Philadelphia and the relocation of the Liberty Bell to Independence National Historical Park, firework displays in Washington D.C. and other major cities, the Boston Pops Concert at the Charles River Esplanade, and the American Freedom Train. What set Operation Sail apart, however, was that its planners believed that the nation’s biggest city should also host the biggest Bicentennial event.

As the key driver behind this idea, Frank O. Braynard played an instrumental role in establishing Operation Sail as a private, non-profit organization. Braynard was the founder of the South Street Seaport, a historian, an author, a lifelong ship enthusiast, and a former ship news reporter for The New York Herald Tribune. Working closely with a group of yachtsmen, retired Coast Guard and Navy officers, and maritime executives, this group came together and performed the organizational and logistical work behind the event. [2]

In deliberations on what New York’s celebration should emphasize, Operation Sail’s planners determined that a parade of ships celebrating the maritime history of the United States and New York City should be the focus. As the planners stressed, early explorers, settlers, and immigrants all came to the U.S. aboard ships, noting in particular the relevance of Ellis Island to New York City’s history. Beyond immigration, maritime trade had been instrumental in bringing wealth to the United States and the nation’s premier early port of New York. Lastly, ships, especially military ships, symbolized the power of the United States—an important statement to make during the Cold War. By organizing an event around maritime history, the planners intended to celebrate a history of the achievement and success of traders, whalers, shipbuilders, and captains. In doing so, New York’s Bicentennial aimed at celebrating different periods in American history, rather than limiting the focus to the colonial period and the era of the Revolution.

As with earlier celebrations, Operation Sail’s focus on shipping was based on positive associations with the nation’s maritime past, emphasizing immigration and trade, and projecting a clean tale of the “nation.” [3] In doing so, however, it ignored a different, nefarious kind of trade: the slave trade, something that was also made possible by ships. Similarly, it ignored the role that American sea power played in establishing American global power. [4]

Yet by the 1970s, even Operation Sail’s staunchest proponents were aware that such a patriotic celebration of American maritime heritage might not receive the reception they hoped for. New York City had faced a worsening fiscal crisis, rising inflation, and the departure of much of the city’s manufacturing jobs that had defined its image. At best, Operation Sail’s planners pitched the event to city officials, including Mayor Abraham Beame, as a means to bring in much needed revenue and improve the image of New York in the eyes of Americans and the world. New Yorkers themselves would feel proud of their city, seeing how such an event could only be possible in a city like New York. [5] As Braynard and others outlined, it would bring New Yorkers together and create an unforgettable experience, once again bringing international attention to New York Harbor. [6]

On the Eve of Celebration: Anxiety and Controversy

As the day of the event drew closer, Operation Sail sparked widespread political debate. When word got out of the list of international ships attending, one such controversy arose over the Chilean ship, the Esmeralda. As critics charged, political prisoners were tortured on the ship after the 1973 military coup that overthrew President Salvador Allende. Both citizen groups and religious groups expressed opposition, with protesters declaring they would demonstrate at the pier if the ship was allowed to dock in New York.

Yet Frank Braynard stated that he would not exclude the Esmeralda, observing that “She's one of the finest sailing ships in the world, and one of the most desired to have in any port.” “We're trying to do something positive, not dwell on past horrors. It's too bad to hamper a good ceremony by bringing politics into the picture.” Braynard asserted that the philosophy of Operation Sail was that “just as seamen are international citizens, we are all seamen on this spaceship earth and must learn to live together.” [7] This was important in a Cold War context, when geopolitical tensions were high and the threat of nuclear war was on everyone’s mind. Braynard intended for Operation Sail to be non-political, inviting any nation with sailing vessels, including the Soviet Union and other communist countries. Braynard argued that by bringing groups together, they would be “unified.” But for the sake of a brief moment of unity, he ignored complaints regarding the Esmeralda. As some critics quipped, by taking the line of “not being political,” he was doing just that.

Beyond such critiques, Operation Sail prompted a host of more tangible concerns and worries over how the day would go. City officials feared massive traffic jams, and warned people to take public transportation. [8] Anthony M. De Fino, Mayor of West New York, New Jersey, said that he had nightmares where a million people were crammed on rotting piers and the edges of cliffs in order to get a good view of the ships. Other local officials expressed fears of massive immobilization, where fires could not be reached, injured people could not be rushed to the hospital in time, and criminals could not be caught. Even its organizer and key advocate, Braynard had his doubts, observing that he was “looking forward to it with a combination of dread and hope.” [9] Though they might seem unwarranted after the fact, these fears made sense during the 1970s—a time of anxiety that made many people certain that something would go wrong.

Others, however, remained optimistic that the event would go off without a hitch. For example, Colonel Clinton Pagano, Superintendent of the New Jersey State Police, rejected the worries, stating that no one should miss the once-in-a-lifetime event. Reassuring people, he said “We have contingency plans for just about anything, and look forward to a memorable, remarkable day that everyone can remember with pleasure for the rest of their lives.” [10] As it turned out, it was this type of attitude that held sway across the metropolitan area, with millions of residents putting aside their fears or concerns and making their way to banks of the Hudson to watch the naval parade with joyful exuberance.

The Execution of Operation Sail

“Operation Sail USA Bicentennial July 4th 1776,” Anthony Catalano, CC-BY-NC-SA 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/2.0/deed.en>, via Flickr.

The parade began at the Verrazano Narrows Bridge and moved up the Hudson River alongside the International Naval Review—a parade of military ships from different countries. Adding to the grandeur of the event, President Gerald Ford, Vice President Nelson Rockefeller, and Secretary of State Henry Kissinger, along with Braynard and 3,000 other guests, beamed down at spectators from the aircraft carrier Forrestal. Also present were “Prince Rainier and Princess Grace of Monaco, Crown Prince Harald and Crown Princess Sonja of Norway, 70 foreign ambassadors and chiefs of naval operations from 35 countries.” [11] Together, the spectacle stretched for eighteen miles, with 228 sailing ships, an additional 800 boats, and 53 naval units. [12]

When it came to the worries that preceded the event, many turned out to be unfounded or exaggerated. On both sides of the Hudson River, crowds happily watched the sailing ships, escorting fireboats that sent up big sprays of water, and the naval flotilla. For those unable to make it to the waterside, major news networks like ABC and NBC, as well as local stations, broadcast it to millions of television viewers.

As numerous accounts confirm, the event proved a remarkable achievement for tapping into a wide range of emotional responses associated with celebrating the founding of the United States and a vast array of personal stories. These stories are readily reflected in the numerous first-hand accounts captured during the event. One eyewitness was an elderly woman who was in a crowd at Allison Park in Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey. When she saw the naval ships, she started to cry because it made her think of her son who shared a birthday with the nation and was killed at the age of nineteen in the Philippines during the battle of Leyte Gulf in 1944. This event resonated with her not just as a celebration of the nation but as verification that her son’s sacrifice for that nation was indeed worthwhile. [13]

Other New Jersey residents got to experience Operation Sail as well, some in unusual ways. John Kutler, who lived in Edgewater Colony along the river’s edge, watched the ship parade from his own window. “Me, I just rolled out of bed to see what it was all about from my living room window. I lifted the shade and there were all these ships going by,” he said. Mrs. John R. Wald of Flemington, New Jersey stayed overnight in the park with family and friends. Some of them slept in the family van, others on picnic tables under a tarpaulin. “To think that my neighbors at home thought I should watch it all on TV,” Mrs. Wald said, proving that many went out of their way to celebrate the event in-person. Mrs. Leigh Chrystal-Feeny saw the ships from the 17th floor of the 23‐floor Doric apartments in Union City, New Jersey. She was president of the Yoga Teachers Association of Pittsburgh, and this added an extra dimension to her experience. “Not only is this the experience of a lifetime, using the Jain discipline, I can become a part of, a sailor on, the ships.” [14] Comments such as these highlight how people from different belief systems found meaning in and appreciated Operation Sail.

Another eyewitness, Mary DeFazio, watched the warships from across the harbor near the Staten Island ferry. She too cried, and said that she was watching the ships for her parents, who came to the United States as immigrants in 1901. As Mary stated, “You know, it goes right through me to see this. There's nothing like the good old U.S.A. My parents raised seven children. I've got to celebrate for them.” [15]

Similarly, Jerry Kenney, an outdoors columnist of the Daily News, reflected on his experience: “To me, Operation Sail was a rerun of all the stories of the Sea I ever read about or experienced, presented to me for the first time as if finally I was one of the characters.” [16] Overall, the parade of ships was an emotional experience that had different meanings to different people and could be enjoyed on many levels. Under the summer sun along the shores of a river named after a European explorer, millions of residents and visitors picnicked, sharing stories from their lives that together formed the collective American experience. [17] All told, what Operation Sail lacked in historical reflection, it made up for in being an inclusive event.

Operation Sail took place on water, with spectators watching from their own boats or along the shoreline. Yet there were also events happening elsewhere in the city for the Bicentennial celebration. Little Old New York had two dozen folk festivals, ethnic food booths, music, a big parade, and dancing. Among them were Lithuanian dancers, Korean martial arts experts, Puerto Rican street theater, an Armenian festival, Swedish music and dance, Turkish folk dancing, Ukrainian dancing, Greek music and food, the Chinese Shadow Theater, Cuban poetry, an Irish festival, an Italian party, and more. All these different ethnic groups showed New York’s culture of pluralism, and that was a product of immigration.

There were also historical events. Many readings and recitals occurred at the Federal Custom House, City Hall, the old Treasury Building, and Battery Park. There were tableaux, such as “the trial of John Peter Zenger at Federal Hall and the ‘Liberation’ of British cannon by the Sons of Liberty at Battery Park.” Perhaps the most interesting was the beheading of King George III at the Custom House, recalling how Revolutionary War Americans tore down the statue, cut off its head, and melted the statue down to make bullets. [18]

While Operation Sail articulated a particular narrative of American history, this wider picture of the Bicentennial illustrates how in New York, New Yorkers turned it into an inclusive, pluralistic experience that invited the cultural expression of many ethnicities. People from all different ethnic groups came together for the same celebration, but shared their unique and special ways of celebrating it.

Reflections on Operation Sail

“Sailors singing in a choir during Operation Sail ‘76 celebrations,” Summer 1976., South Street Seaport Museum Archives, Slide Collection.

President Ford called Operation Sail “the greatest 4th of July any of us will ever see.” [19] Prior to the even, however, there was little optimism about the Bicentennial. A year before Operation Sail, historian Russell Fridley said that “Vietnam, Watergate, the energy crisis, inflation, recession, and unemployment meant that Americans simply were not in a frame of mind to celebrate.” [20] Yet, as time would tell, a celebration would help take Americans’ minds off the turmoil, at least while that celebration lasted, and create a positive memory for all who experienced it. The fact that the event went on without a hitch despite the media’s fears surprised people, and proved that New Yorkers could get along, even during difficult times. Operation Sail refuted the general negative perceptions of the city that dominated the 1970s. It had clearly been a success as a celebration, although not as a history lesson.

Despite the economic insecurity that defined the 1970s, Operation Sail brought in money to help with the fiscal crisis and improved New York City’s image for many Americans who experienced the event. Operation Sail also achieved Braynard’s goal of bringing nations together, despite Cold War tensions. Operation Sail hosted ships from thirty nations, with sixteen of these being tall ships. The tall ships came from Western countries, particularly the United States, Norway, Denmark, West Germany, Italy, Spain, Portugal, Argentina, Chile, Colombia, and Japan, but also from communist countries: Poland, Romania, and the Soviet Union. Although there were moments of criticism before the event, Braynard’s unrelenting decision to invite all countries, even those that the U.S. had hostile relations with, helped promote harmony in the world. As Braynard said, “Operation Sail shows that nations can cooperate for purposes other than selling arms. Most of the money for bringing ships here and their maintenance has been paid by the foreign governments.” [21]

In the 1970s, activism and new social history solidified claims to historical interpretation made by all Americans through a focus on revolutionary spirit. The spirit of the Revolution could be seen in suffragists, activists, immigrants, entrepreneurs, inventors, athletes, homesteaders, and other inspiring figures in American history. [22] History was being reinterpreted, and its audience expanded, allowing all people to feel like they have a place in the country. This reinterpretation is an ongoing process. Today, the Bicentennial is looked back on as its own oddity that struggled to paint a singular narrative of the nation’s origins, while simultaneously failing to grapple with many of the very present challenges of the 1970s. Yet at the same time, the apparent neutrality of an event such as Operation Sail allowed it to be appreciated by New Yorkers of all different backgrounds, regardless of how they viewed the American Revolution and the history of the United States.

Operation Sail never intended to promote reflections on the American past, but it did bring New Yorkers together. It was an international event made possible through television and through widespread participation in the parade. The decision to invite all countries meant a lot during the Cold War, and the success of Operation Sail allowed it to stand out as a pleasant memory for New Yorkers during the hard times that their city faced. Operation Sail opened up the past for everyone to participate, even if the price was a vague celebration.

As New York City grappled with economic difficulties, political division, and high crime, it seemed that unity was not possible and any celebration was bound to fail. Even though Operation Sail was planned and organized by a small handful of individuals, that cadre of planners was not able to control how New Yorkers chose to interpret the event. In many cases, they created a wide range of meaning, doing so on their own terms. When Operation Sail proved successful, and ordinary people came together and made meaningful memories, it reminded them that they could truly accomplish a lot. This is perhaps important to think about as the 250th of the Revolution approaches, and another sailing event is being planned for New York City in 2026.

Angelina Lambros is a student at Macaulay Honors College at Brooklyn College working towards bachelor’s degrees in History and Art. Angelina aspires to be a public historian and novelist. She has been published in literary outlets and in CLIO, the undergraduate journal of the Brooklyn College Historical Society, and has interned at the YIVO Institute for Jewish Research and the Gilder Lehrman Institute of American History. She was a Gardiner Foundation Semiquincentennial Summer Fellow in the summer of 2024, when she researched Operation Sail 1976.

[1] Donald Singleton and Paul Meskil, “A Record Six Million Smiles; It’s Fun City Again,” Daily News, July 5, 1976.

[2] Robert D. McFadden, “Sail Ho! 200 Ships of Past Will Salute Bicentennial here: 200 Ships to Salute Bicentennial here,” New York Times, March 1, 1976.

[3] In planning Operation Sail, the team of organizers looked at numerous previous celebrations, for the nation had a long list of historical commemorations from which to draw. The 1907 Ter-Centennial Exposition commemorated the 300th anniversary of the settlement of Jamestown. That event also saw a large naval review that began at Hampton Roads and then sailed up to New York Harbor. Brian de Ruiter, “Jamestown Ter-Centennial Exposition of 1907,” Encyclopedia Virginia, December 7, 2020.

[4] James M. Lindgren, Preserving Maritime America, A Cultural History of the Nation’s Great Maritime Museums (University of Massachusetts Press, 2019), 261-262.

[5] “BICENTENNIAL SPECTACULAR,” Daily News, June 27, 1976.

[6] Michael Sterne, "Op Sail Producing Income, but Less than Anticipated," New York Times, July 3, 1976.

[7] Leslie Maitland, "Four-Master from Chile is Called 'Torture' Ship," New York Times, June 20, 1976.

[8] Richard Severo, "Tall Ships Enter New York Harbor,” New York Times, July 3, 1976.

[9] McFadden, “Sail Ho! 200 Ships of Past Will Salute Bicentennial here.”

[10] Ronald Sullivan, Special to The New York Times "Jersey Officials See no Peril in Op Sail," New York Times, June 26, 1976.

[11] Beth Fallon, “Ford and Rocky Head Flock of Notables on Forrestal,” Daily News, July 5, 1976.

[12] James M. Lindgren, Preserving South Street Seaport: The Dream and Reality of a New York Urban Renewal District (New York University Press, 2014), 113.

[13] Maurice Carroll, "Crowds, Short of Forecasts, Watch Operation Sail from the Palisades," New York Times, July 5, 1976.

[14] Fred Ferretti, "Warships of 22 Nations Arrive for Bicentennial: Warships of 22 Nations to Salute U.S," New York Times, July 4, 1976.

[15] Ferretti, "Warships of 22 Nations Arrive for Bicentennial.”

[16] Jerry Kenney, “Op Sail: The Memories Came Floating By, Too,” Daily News, July 7, 1976.

[17] Carroll, "Crowds, Short of Forecasts, Watch Operation Sail from the Palisades.”

[18] William Sherman, “A Horn of Plenty For Greatest 4th,” Daily News, July 4, 1976.The 1960s brought sweeping changes throughout America, and this included changes to women’s education. The Civil Rights Movement provoked a reassessment of the role of women in society. Many universities were reaching the conclusion that they could not, and should not, remain the restricted domains of male education. [9] In 1963, Fordham began admitting women, as did Yale in 1969. While providing greater opportunities for women, these developments also presented new challenges for those colleges catering solely to female students. They now had to meet an ever-increasing operational cost and the loss of their monopoly on female applicants. Prospective students now looked at coeducational schools like nearby NYU or Sarah Lawrence College. Finch College was also negatively impacted through media coverage. Tales of Finch girls like Grace Slick or Jane Holzer, who joined anti-establishment rock bands or became muses for revolutionary artists like Andy Warhol, turned a nice profit for the papers, but did not enhance the school’s standing. [10] News articles about the school oft focused on high tuition and “fluffy” academics. [11] When Hunter College and Marymount Manhattan College became coeducational, Finch found itself competing with Barnard for the women-only market in the city.

[19] Jules Loh, “Upbeat America starts 200th birthday bash,” Home News, July 4, 1976.

[20] Russell W. Fridley, “The Editor's Page: Bicentennial Can Be Meaningful,” Acadiensis: Journal of the History of the Atlantic Region, Summer 1975.

[21] Laurel Gross, “Daily Closeup: The Sailmaster,” New York Post, July 3, 1976.

[22] Tammy S. Gordon, The Spirit of 1976 (University of Massachusetts Press, 2013), 14.