With the navy now in possession of a large, modern rigid airship specifically designed to act as a naval scout it seemed that the lighter than air was about to prove its tremendous value for scouting.  On November 2, 1931, Akron made her first flight as a commissioned vessel in the U. S. Navy, a round trip flight to Washington with Admiral Moffett and a group of journalists aboard.  The next day the Akron made a short demonstration flight to show the large rigid's ability to carry out emergency airlifts.  She carried 207 people aboard and set a world record.   While these public relations flights did help to improve the public's opinion of rigid airships, they did little to impress the rest of the navy.  To do that the Akron would have to prove herself with the fleet.

     Her first chance to do that came in January 1932.  On the ninth she departed Lakehurst for Cape Lookout, North Carolina where she had orders to be at dawn on the tenth. That day she was to search for an "enemy" consisting of a squadron of destroyers.  Despite passing within fifteen miles of the "enemy" she failed to spot them on the tenth.  Resuming her search again at dawn on the eleventh she soon found the destroyers and was shortly thereafter released from the exercise.

     The Akron's lackluster performance did not impress the rest of the navy, but it should not have come as a surprise.  The Akron had as of yet no airplanes; indeed she didn't even have a trapeze from which to launch and retrieve airplanes. This constituted a serious handicap.  Due to equipment delays and the damage sustained to the Akron's lower fin in February it was not until July that the Akron's HTA (heavier-than-air) unit was fully operational.

     This delay did have some advantages.  Hook-on experiments with the Los Angeles had been going on for some time and were now considered quite routine. Thus when the Akron's airplanes arrived there were very few problems.   Indeed, it was the consensus of the airplane pilots that a landing to a trapeze was easier than a conventional landing.

     The arrival of the HTA unit highlighted the differences of opinion as to how airships should be handled.  The HTA pilots believed that the large rigid was vulnerable to attack by an enemy's carrier-born airplanes and, therefore, the Akron should serve as a flying aircraft carrier.  Her airplanes would do all the scouting while the airship kept away from the enemy.  The officers and crew of the Akron believed otherwise.  In their opinion the Akron was a scouting airship which happened to carry airplanes, primarily for defense.  Experience was to prove the HTA pilots correct in their evaluation.

     On May 8, 1932 the Akron departed Lakehurst for California with two airplanes, the XF9C-1 and the N2Y.  Neither were particularly suited to scouting, but the Akron would have to make do.  On May 11 the Akron landed at the auxiliary base at Camp Kearney, near San Diego to land and refuel.  She then headed to the still incomplete air station at Sunnyvale.

     Most of her flights in California were public relations flights to satisfy the great demand for views of the ship.  The ship did make some flights with the fleet, however. Between June 1 and 4 Akron took part in fleet exercises.   Again she had no airplanes. The Akron found the "enemy," but this time the "enemy's" cruisers responded by attacking the Akron with their seaplanes.   The Akron was "shot down" multiple times.  The Akron's commander, Charles Rosendahl, thought it "perfectly apparent" that had she had her planes aboard the Akron could have fended off the attackers.  Perhaps he was right, but the Akron's poor performance did nothing to polish her dull image.  The report on the fleet exercises heaped harsh criticism , albeit criticism from a bitter critic of the airship, Adm. Frank H. Schofield.  The Akron arrived back at Lakehurst on June 15.

     At Lakehurst on June 22 Comdr. Alger H. Dresel relieved Rosendahl as commander. At the same time Comdr. Frank C. McCord reported to the Akron for duty under instruction as her prospective commanding officer.  On January 3, 1933 McCord became the Akron's commanding officer.  The same day Akron departed for the expeditionary mast at Opa-locka, near Miami, Florida.  While there the ship made a quick trip to Cuba.  The purpose of this trip, and another to Panama in March, was to explore the possibility of a winter mooring site for the Akron away from the Northeastern winters.   The consensus was that such a site would aid the Akron greatly, allowing it to fly more during the winter.

     On the evening of April 3, 1933, the Akron departed Lakehurst for a routine training flight.  There was nothing in the weather forecast which would indicate trouble.  It was with no sense of apprehension that the Akron cast off at 7:28 P.M.  Yet within hours the ship had been enveloped in a severe cold front.   McCord had the ship turned east to ride out the storm at sea off the New Jersey coast.  Just after midnight the air became quite turbulent and the Akron was carried downward.  Drooping of emergency ballast fore and full speed on all engines stopped the descent at seven hundred feet. The Akron soon returned to its cruising of sixteen hundred feet.  Two to three minutes later the Akron was caught in another down draft.   With the altimeter reading eight hundred feet the ship lurched sharply, as if a strong gust had hit it. The rudder man then reported no response from his wheel.  The men in the control car braced for impact with the ocean. Wiley, the only survivor from the control car, saw the waves below him and was washed out of the control car moments later.

     There had been no impact of the lower fin with the sea before the control car hit the ocean. The reason for this apparent anomaly was that the fin was already in the ocean.  The lurch which all had assumed was a gust, and which the altimeter would seem to insist was just that, was actually the lower fin hitting the water.  No one realized the severity of the low pressure system through which the Akron was flying.  The low caused her barometric altimeter to read as much as several hundred feet higher than the actual altitude.  The Akron had literally been flown into the sea.

     The Akron carried no life jackets and only one rubber raft.   Most men never got out of the foundering ship, and of those who did only three survived exposure to the chilly north-Atlantic waters.  Seventy three men perished.   The tragedy was compounded the next day when the blimp J-3 crashed while looking for survivors, going down with two members of its crew.  The navy had lost the finest airship in the world and seventy-five men.  It was the beginning of the end for naval lighter-than-air.