Deadly Voyage Page 6

  Suddenly the roar of the steam stopped and Officer Lightoller called out for someone to give him a hand. Major Peuchen stepped forward wearing a lifebelt over his warm overcoat. Trust the Major to be in the middle of things, I thought to myself. He’ll be giving orders to Officer Lightoller before long. But the Major did as Lightoller instructed and helped to lift a mast with a sail wrapped around it out of the lifeboat. Then I heard voices from the deck below. Lightoller leaned over the rail to listen to them.

  “The windows down ’ere are locked!” a crewman shouted. Lightoller yelled back that he would send someone down to unlock them. He had apparently lowered the first lifeboat down to A deck, thinking it would be easier for passengers to board from there, perhaps forgetting that there were windows on the A-deck promenade.

  I heard another forceful voice nearby and turned to see Mr. Hays talking to my father. “I’ll take my chances with the big boat,” he was saying. “She’s good for eight to ten hours at least, and someone will surely have come to our rescue before then. There’s a ship out there now,” he added, pointing to the lights out beyond the portside railing.

  The second lifeboat on the port side was now ready for boarding, but not many women seemed willing to get into it. I couldn’t blame them. The deck of the Titanic seemed a much safer place than being lowered down into the ocean in that small boat in the middle of the night. Many of the women clung to their husbands.

  “Women and children!” Lightoller’s voice rang out. “Women and children, please come forward!”

  Eventually a few of them were persuaded to step into the boat.

  “I don’t think Jamie and I need to go yet, do you, Henry?” my mother asked.

  “I don’t think they want me in the boat, Mother,” I protested. “I’m not a child!”

  “We will follow orders and do as we are told, James!” my father said sternly.

  “Any more women?” Lightoller’s voice rang out again. “Any more women? Step forward, please!”

  All of a sudden we heard a whooshing noise as a white rocket shot into the air and then burst with a loud bang and a cascade of stars.

  “They wouldn’t be firing rockets if it wasn’t serious,” one woman said.

  The second lifeboat was not full, but Lightoller seemed anxious to launch it. “All right, then,” he called out after the rocket noise had stopped. “Lower away!”

  Crewmen at either end of the davit began to let out their ropes to lower the lifeboat. It creaked and jerked its way down and then stopped when it was about even with C deck. It looked only half filled. Then the crewman in the stern of the boat called up that he needed another man to help him row.

  “I need another seaman in this boat!” Lightoller shouted.

  But there was no response. The only two crewmen nearby were needed to help lower the boat.

  “Another seaman, please!” Lightoller shouted again.

  At that Major Peuchen stepped forward. “I am a yachtsman, if I can be of any use to you, sir,” he said to Lightoller.

  “If you’re enough of a sailor to climb down into that boat, go ahead,” Lightoller replied, pointing to the ropes that were holding the lifeboat.

  They were hanging about ten feet out from the side of the deck. I wouldn’t want to try that, I thought.

  “You’d better go below, break a window and climb aboard that way,” a voice said. I turned and saw that it was Captain Smith speaking.

  “I don’t think that would be feasible, sir,” Major Peuchen said, shaking his head.

  He paused for a moment on the side of the deck. Then he suddenly leapt out and grabbed one of the ropes, quickly wrapping his legs around it.

  “Bravo, Arthur!” my father murmured as the Major shinnied about twenty-five feet down into the lifeboat.

  “That took courage!” I said aloud, feeling a little guilty for some of my earlier thoughts about the Major.

  “Yes,” agreed Mr. Molson, who was standing nearby. “And he’s not a young man.”

  A few minutes later a second rocket shot up and exploded in another burst of white stars over the funnels. Surely that ship on the horizon will see that and come over to us, I thought.

  When the rocket’s noise stopped, the cheery sound of “Alexander’s Ragtime Band” could be heard. The ship’s orchestra was playing out on the deck beside the gymnasium. The lively tune seemed to lift everyone’s spirits. Lightoller was calling out for women to board another lifeboat but, once again, not many were willing to climb aboard.

  “I think we can wait a while yet,” I heard Mrs. Fortune say to my mother.

  I wasn’t so sure. The bow of the ship was definitely getting lower in the water. I could feel the forward slant of the deck under my feet. I hoped those watertight compartments were working. But the sound of another ragtime tune made me feel that everything must be all right.

  Suddenly I thought of Johnnie and realized that I hadn’t seen him or his family on the boat deck. Could they already have left in a lifeboat? I decided to have a look over on the starboard side. Telling my mother and father that I was just going into the gymnasium to warm up for a minute, I quickly scurried across the deck.

  Two officers were supervising the lowering of a boat when I got to the starboard side. There were a number of men in the boat, not just women and children. I assumed that the officers on this side of the ship hadn’t been as strict as Lightoller about not allowing men in the boats. Then I saw Mr. Hays standing beside the davit, waving to Mrs. Hays and their daughter in the lifeboat. His son-in-law was beside him. Mr. Hays must believe it’s safe to stay on the Titanic, I thought, since he could have gone in that boat.

  I walked farther aft along the starboard side but didn’t see any sign of Johnnie, so I decided I’d better rejoin my parents before they got worried about me. As I turned, I spotted Jack and Milton standing beside the railing near the third funnel. I waved to get their attention but they didn’t see me, so I hurried back to my parents. When I returned to the port side, another lifeboat was being loaded. Captain Smith was there with a megaphone in his hand. “Any more ladies?” he shouted through it. “Any more ladies?”

  An elderly couple approached the boat. The husband helped his wife into the boat and then started to climb in himself.

  “No men allowed, sir! Women and children only!” Lightoller called out.

  “I’m sure no one would object if this gentleman accompanied his wife,” I heard someone say.

  “Women and children only! Those are my orders!” Lightoller said firmly.

  The woman stood up in the boat and gestured to be helped out. Several men stepped forward to lift her back onto the deck. She took her husband by the arm. “We’ve been together too long for me to leave you now,” I heard her say to him. “Where you go, I go.” They walked away slowly down the deck, arm in arm.

  Captain Smith was giving orders to the crewman in the stern of the lifeboat. “Row across to that ship,” he said, pointing to the lights on the horizon. “Land your passengers and then come back for more.”

  The crewmen began letting out the ropes to lower the boat. I felt my mother shiver next to me and suggested that we go into the gymnasium to warm up.

  Father and Rosalie came with us. Inside, a few people were sitting on the exercise machines. Was it only two days ago that the red-faced gym instructor had thrown Johnnie and me out of there?

  We could still hear the musicians playing outside the gym’s windows. After about five minutes we went back out onto the deck, and as we did a man in a bowler hat came out of the first-class entrance. I realized that it was Mr. Andrews, the Irishman who had shown us the rooms in third class on sailing day. He walked right over to me, put his arm on my shoulder and led me away from the musicians.

  “The ladies must get into a lifeboat as soon as possible,” he said. “There is very little time to wait. Please do as I say.” Then he immediately left us and approached another group of passengers with the same message.

  “Who is that
man?” my mother asked in a startled voice.

  “That’s Mr. Andrews!” I blurted out. “He’s the man who designed the ship. He knows what he’s talking about!”

  For the first time I saw a really worried look cross my father’s face. The slant of the deck was now very noticeable.

  We hurried over to the lifeboat that Officer Lightoller was loading. It was filling up more quickly than any of the previous ones. Charles Fortune was helping one of his sisters into it. His mother and her maid and two other sisters were already seated in the boat. When they saw us they gestured to my mother that there was room beside them. Father immediately helped Rosalie into the boat and then turned to my mother. But I had already taken her hand and was guiding her into the boat.

  She sat down beside Mrs. Fortune and then called out to me. “Jamie, you come too! You must come!”

  “No boys!” Officer Lightoller’s voice rang out loudly, and I felt my face turn crimson.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine!” I called to her as the boat began to make its descent. “I’ll look after Father,” I added. “We’ll see you on the boat to New York!”

  I waved and she looked back at us unhappily, but Rosalie gave me a smile and a wave.

  While the boat was being lowered, I suddenly heard a few cries from the women in it. A small man had jumped into the boat from A deck. Some of the women were speaking harshly to him but he wriggled onto a seat and hunkered down. My father shook his head disapprovingly.

  Crowds of people were now milling about on the deck and the mood was becoming a little more urgent. Three boats were being loaded on the port side. I saw a steward lead a group of women and children from third class toward the one nearest me. I remembered climbing up from the third-class quarters with Frank Browne and Jack Odell on the first day. It would have been difficult for people to find their way from down there all the way up to the boat deck.

  Suddenly I spotted Johnnie and his family walking toward us in a crowd of people.

  “Johnnie!” I shouted out and waved at him.

  He hurried right over. “We’ve been waiting one deck down for about an hour for that boat there,” he said, pointing to the davit holding the first lifeboat that had been put over the side. “But nobody’s been able to get into it.”

  We suddenly heard a commotion on the deck and turned to look. A crowd of men was shoving their way toward one of the boats. An officer beside the boat shouted and raised his hand. I was astounded to see a revolver in it. Had the crowd got that desperate? He pointed the pistol straight up and fired two shots into the air. The crowd shrunk back.

  “Looks like the rats want to leave the sinking ship,” Johnnie said. “Speaking of rats,” he added casually, “I went back to my room and let Sykes out of his cage.”

  “I’ve been thinking about Max,” I said. “He might be trapped in the kennel. He won’t stand a chance if the boat sinks — ”

  “When the boat sinks, you mean,” replied Johnnie. “Hey, let’s go and let the dogs out! Somebody has to do it!”

  I knew my father would never allow it, so I hurried over to him and said I was just going back into the gymnasium to warm up for a minute. He nodded. Then Johnnie and I began walking up the slanting deck.

  “Please return to A deck!” a voice shouted. “We will be loading your lifeboat from A deck!”

  We’d made it some way along the deck when suddenly Johnnie’s sister was beside us, taking Johnnie by the arm. “We have to go back down one deck, John!” Suzette said. “You must come now! Mother panicked when she saw you were gone.”

  “But we have to let the dogs out — ”

  “The dogs! There isn’t time! And you had better come too,” Suzette snapped at me.

  “But my dog is in the kennels — ” I started to say.

  “Someone will take care of the dogs!” she insisted. “You both have to come now!”

  “Come with us, Jamie!” Johnnie said. “There might be room for all of us.”

  The slant of the deck was growing ever steeper. When I looked aft I could see that the deck near the stern was now higher than where we were standing. I hurried back to my father, who was talking with Mr. Molson.

  “There you are!” my father said, “I was starting to get worried.”

  “We’ve been told to go down one deck,” I said. “At least it will be warmer there.”

  “All right,” he agreed. He turned and shook Mr. Molson’s hand and came with me.

  “Looks like this will be the millionaire’s lifeboat,” my father commented as we walked down the staircase behind the Ryersons, the Astors and other rich-looking Americans. Many of the women were wearing fur coats over their nightgowns. When we arrived on the A-deck promenade I saw that several deck chairs had been placed below the open windows to act as ramps into the lifeboat. Officer Lightoller jumped up and placed one foot on the gunwale of the lifeboat and another on a windowsill. Perspiration beaded his face in spite of the cold air. He had taken off his officer’s jacket and was wearing only a blue seaman’s sweater and trousers. I could see his pyjamas showing below his trouser cuffs.

  “Come along now,” he called out, “the boat is quite safe!”

  Mr. Astor came forward with his young, pregnant wife on his arm. She was obviously very anxious and he was trying to reassure her in a low, soothing voice. He helped her up the deck-chair ramp and across the windowsill into the boat, then turned to Lightoller and asked, “May I accompany my wife? She is in a delicate condition.”

  “No sir,” Lightoller replied. “No men are allowed in these boats until the women are loaded first.”

  “What boat is this?” Astor asked.

  “Number Four,” Lightoller said.

  Then Johnnie’s family came forward. Mr. Ryerson suddenly noticed that Victorine was not wearing a lifebelt. He took his off and put it on her, then helped her and his two daughters and Miss Bowen up the ramp and into the boat. Finally he embraced his wife, who kept a firm grip on Johnnie’s hand as they went up to the windowsill together.

  “That boy can’t go!” Lightoller insisted.

  “Of course that boy goes with his mother — he’s only thirteen!” Mr. Ryerson shouted indignantly at Lightoller. He then pushed Johnnie through the open window after his mother.

  Lightoller grimaced and called out. “All right. But no more boys!”

  Farther back in the line, I saw a woman standing with her daughter and a son who looked to be about eight. The mother took off her large hat and put it on her son’s head. All three of them climbed into Lifeboat Four with no protests from Lightoller.

  “How many women are in that boat?” a voice called down from the boat deck above us.

  “Twenty-four,” someone answered.

  “That’s enough,” came the response. “Lower away!”

  “How many seamen have you?” another voice asked.

  “One,” came the reply.

  A second seaman quickly shinnied down a rope and into the boat just before it began to be lowered.

  I was standing near an open window and saw Mr. Astor blow a kiss to his wife and then toss her his gloves. I tried to wave to Johnnie, but he was hunched down in the boat with his head lowered. The boat reached the water very quickly — it was now only about fifteen feet below us. I thought again about Max being trapped in his cage in the kennel.

  “What about the dogs?” I asked, turning to Mr. Astor. “What will happen to them?”

  “I spoke to a crewman earlier,” Mr. Astor replied. “He told me he’d go back to the kennel and let all the dogs out of their cages.”

  I felt a little better after he said that. At least Max stood a chance now.

  Officer Lightoller hurried by us and opened a door marked For Use of Crew Only. Mr. Astor and several other men followed him. I waved to my father that we should do the same. It was an iron staircase, so narrow that we had to brace ourselves to climb up it, since the ship was now listing toward the port side. When I looked down and saw water lappin
g up the steps only a few decks below us, I was shocked. The stairway lamps were shining through the water like lights in a swimming pool.

  Thumps and rumbling and the sounds of china breaking rose up from below. I clasped the metal railing and climbed upward one step at a time. When I glanced at my watch I saw that it was a few minutes before two a.m. It occurred to me that I’d never been up this late before.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE FINAL MINUTES

  April 15, 1912, 2:00 a.m.

  On the boat deck I waited for my father to come up the stairs behind me. Overhead, the sky was a mass of stars. The forecastle deck where Johnnie and I had stood on the windlass was now completely awash, the foremast surrounded by water. But the light above the crow’s nest was still shining red. At the stern, many people were milling about and more third-class passengers continued to stream up on deck from below. Barrels and deck chairs — anything that would float — were being thrown over the side by men preparing to jump. I saw Thomas Andrews pick up a deck chair and heave it into the water. Another man was shinnying down the rope from an empty davit arm into the water.

  “They’re loading that boat,” my father said, grabbing my arm and pointing forward.

  Lightoller and some other crewmen had fitted another boat into a pair of empty davits.

  “It’s a collapsible boat, with canvas sides,” I heard a man say as we joined the group standing near it.

  “Women and children only!” Officer Lightoller called out when the boat was ready.