What Happened That Sunday...
Around 9:30 on a cool, clear April day in 1912, the first of Titanic's passengers stare up at the steel collosus towering above them as they come aboard in Southampton. At noon, Titanic casts off and begins her maiden voyage. The next day, April 11, the ship pauses at Queenstown, Ireland to take on passengers. At 1:30, she weighs anchor and steams westward, bound for New York.
The ship sailed through calm seas under clear skies, but in April even a sunny day is cold on the North Atlantic run and many of the passengers remained indoors, or kept to the A-Deck enclosed promenade. While the passengers were enjoying Sunday Luncheon, Jack Philips and Harold Bride, Titanic's wireless operators, were trying to catch up with the back-log of passenger's messages.
Throughout the day, they received seven ice warnings from various vessels in their vicinity. Watching the sunset from the A-deck, outside the aft grand staircase, first-class passengers Mrs. Marian Thayer and Mrs. Emily Ryerson met J.Bruce Ismay, managing director of the White Star Line. He tells them "We are in among the icebergs," producing a telegram sent by the Baltic, warning of ice.
Later, while Captain E.J.Smith was at dinner, Bride delivered another ice warning to the bridge. Ahead and slightly to the North of Titanic, the steamer Californian reported passing three large icebergs to the south. Captain Smith excused himself from the dining room around 9 p.m. and joined Second Officer Charles Lightoller on the bridge. The two discussed the sudden drop in temperature, indicating they were entering an area of ice.
Lightoller reported that he'd ordered the forecastle hatch closed, so that the light from within would not interfere with the lookouts, posted in the crow's nest above it. Moments later, Smith retired for the night, saying to the younger officer, "If it becomes at all doubtful, let me know at once.
At 11:40 p.m., lookout Frederick Fleet was on duty in the crows nest. The air was bitterly cold, in another 20 minutes he would have been relieved and headed below to the warmth of his bunk. Without binoculars, which had been misplaced before the ship left Shouthampton, he peered into the darkness of the moonless night. He saw something directly in the ship's path, and rang the ships bell three times to alert the bridge.
Sixth Officer Moody picked up the phone. "What did you see?"
"Iceburg Sir, right ahead!"
Officer Murdoch, who had relieved Lightoller, ordered "hard-a-starboard", but it was too late. Although the ship had avoided striking the berg head-on, the ice dealt Titanic a glancing blow, rupturing the hull intermittently along her starboard side. 20 minutes later, Captain Smith knew that he was going to loose his ship.
Thomas Andrews, the ship's designer, calculates the amount of water that has entered the ship, and from this information, tells the Captain the great ship has perhaps two hours left. A short time later, the wireless message crackled though the still ocean air.
Position Lat. 41.46 n. Lon. 50.14. w. MGY (MGY wereTitanic's call letters)
At 12:05am, Smith gives the order to uncover the lifeboats and to get the passengers and crew on deck. He knows that there are only enough lifeboats for about half of the 2,227 people on board. At 12:25 the order is given to start loading women and children into the boats. The first is lowered at 12:45 am. As the bow slips ever closer to the glassy surface, the first of eight distress rockets arch high into the darkness from the starboard wing bridge.
Passengers at first refuse to believe the floating palace would indeed founder, and the first boats pull away far short of their capacity. Boat number one leaves with 12 people aboard, it could have saved 40. As the huge stern begins to rise from the sea, they begin to realise the seriousness of the situation.
By five past 2, the last of Titanic's lifeboats has been launched, leaving over 1,500 people to await the icy clutch of the waves. As the slant of the deck grows steeper, a murmuring mass of humanity huddles near the stern. Mother's hold fast to shivering children, unable to sheild them from the terror unfolding about them. At 2:17 am, a thousand pairs of eyes scanned the dark horizon for any sign of rescue. None came.
The beginning of the end comes at 18 minutes after midnight, April 15, 1912. The bow plunges further and further beneath the surging water, and the forward funnel collapses as the slant of the deck grows steeper. From the lifeboats, horrified survivors watch as people jump into the icy water and try to swim from the stricken ship. The smell of extinguished coal fires floats on the icy air. From deep within Titanic's dying hull, a horrendous crashing sound blasts across the water as everything within the ship breaks loose and tears through the bulkheads. The ship's lights, which had set the vessle ablaze with a brilliant amber glow, flicker once, then go out forever.
A ghostly outline against the curtain of night, Titanic breaks apart between the third and fourth funnels, as unimaginable stresses wrench at her hull. The bow section shears away and sinks. For a moment, the stern rights itself. Finally, Titanic looses her struggle with the unforgiving North Atlantic. As terrified hands clutch hopelessly to railings, Titanic's stern turns upward, points one last time at the stars, then slides away into the silent embrace of the abyss.
Captain Edward Smith went into the deep with his command, his last words lost somewhere in the endless sound of the ocean waves. Perhaps he closed his eyes to the terror about him and thought one last time of his home far across the ocean, offering up a prayer as the covetous sea closed over him.
Later that night, in 20 tiny boats, 700 people shivered in the darkness, blinking in disbelief at what they had witnessed. They listen to the muffled cries of the hundreds dying in the freezing sea, and desparately pray that their loved ones might have escaped in another boat. As the hours wear on, the mounful chorus grows fainter, at length indistinguishable from the rising breeze. Too many found their prayers unanswered as dawn's first light crept upon the North Atlantic. As the cold, steel blue glow of the new day slowly revealed the few peices of wreckage bobbing on the surface, the Cunard liner Carpathia steams into the area, far too late to save the 1500 souls who perished with the greatest ship the world had ever seen.
Click Here for a Map describing Titanic's maiden voyage.
Bergs & Growlers on the North Atlantic. D.Clarke