Written by Kim

Wednesday
April 10, 1912
12: 00 PM
Southampton, England

In all of the world, nothing had been so marvelous. A ship of dreams, the unsinkable, the Irish rock…so many names for one big ship.

Titanic.

Thousands of people gathered at the pier just to see her splendor and beauty, awed at the sheer magnificence and strength she stood for. Yes, she represented them all. Built by those who were weak, homeless, starving, and most of all, ill-fated; their strength and spirit were poured into her walls, her beams, her rooms; everything had been theirs and at last she had been completed. Their hope of crossing over into the new world had been built at last. So many things she stood for--freedom, hope, dreams, love, liberty, and above all else, her everlasting spirit. Everything was golden; no black or gray or white.

She was the guardian of her passengers, the mother of souls about to embark on their first journey, and the pacifier of man and sea. She was grand in all ways, the light of the sun shining on her in blessing as the yells, screams, and whispered good-byes were uttered by her side. The newly appointed officers and crew welcomed the people with smiles and open arms. The sheets, dishes, china, furniture beckoned to them with the knowledge and encouragement of dreams, memories, and adventure. She gleamed pure with the white, mysterious with the black, and chuckled giddily with her red and black stacks of charcoal steam. The paint was fresh, the places set; everything was ready.

Frantic waving of arms and hands, fingers strumming the air as the upper class, the middle class, and the poor all boarded her with deep admiration and promises to fulfill their lives to their utmost potential. Taking everything they owned, they walked onward and proceeded to run to the top deck, A Deck, and bid their farewells to the world they had known.

The captain smiled at them, beaming with pride at the expectations of the ship and its people; his chief officer, standing by him, glanced at his captain with the same kind of emotions. Timeless was this moment, forever in their grasp. Photos and articles published around the clock, stories being told already of how the ship would function. Relics without meaning coming into shape.

The air was electric with excitement and passion, the sky full of blooming white clouds and sunshine gleaming through each crack and peak of the lofty shapes, the water sparkling deep and green with streaks of blue shining in the bay. There were no tears; only smiles and hearts full of something so profound it was unreal; adrenaline pumping through each and every one of them as they continued to shout and move vigorously.

Slowly, the ship was brought out of the bay on gentle waves, a tugboat with massive ropes dragging her out to the channel a few miles away from the port. From there, the engines were slowly brought to life for the first time, moving the Titanic out of range and out of sight as she sailed on towards her destination. Slowly, the crowds watched as the ship became only a dot on the open sea. The people left and the crowds dissipated, the Titanic now lost to them, never to come home.

Later that evening, the great ship stopped at Cherbourg, France, coming for the next batch of passengers that were to sail across the icy Atlantic and on towards New York City, America. Familiar faces and emotions were combined into one as people bid their farewells. The pride in Titanic had not stopped. Everywhere, her tale was told--the largest manmade vessel this world had seen; the highest of the high. She left once more and headed out to sea, her beckoning ringing in all their ears.

Her last stop was Queenstown, Ireland, the loving land she had come from. Picking up more passengers there, the families also waving at their priceless work of construction and dedication, she once more drifted out of the bay and was sent on her way to another destination. Setting sail at last for her first real adventure, the Titanic made it to the open Atlantic by Thursday, April 11, 1912 at 1:30 PM.

Traveling at only twenty-two knots, the great ship was loved by all and adored by those who kept up with Titanic’s adventures. An endless blue lay at her fingertips, the sparkling depth of the icy waters welcoming her with open arms. The mother ocean was a loving mother, cruel in punishment and yet fair in judgment. She, too, marveled at man’s great strength and imagination, inventing a ship that brought luxury and comfort as well as speed and adversity.

Equipped with powerful instruments, tools for use, and enough manpower for an entire army, the ship was truly the greatest marvel that had ever existed.

The weather was fair, the sun shining every day, the clouds billowing as the wind blew sea, birds, flags, hats, and masses of colorful hair of men, women, and children as they stood on her decks, watching as the sea went by them in minutes, excitement bubbling in them that was equivalent to that of the most joyful batch of children in the world.

It would not end that way.

On Sunday, April 14, 1912, the fifth day at sea, the captain received five messages from a nearby ship about icebergs that were floating in the area. Ignoring the pleas, the captain sailed on; all the knowledge he had gained was gone in a matter of seconds at the pressure from Mr. Ismay, the director in charge of the White Star Line, to come to a speed fast enough to surprise the people of New York by arriving there a day ahead of schedule. Whatever the reason, it was time for one of man’s greatest monuments to finally meet its end.

Between 11:20 and 11:40 PM, an iceberg was spotted by a lookout in the crow’s nest of the Titanic, who phoned immediately of the approaching danger. The wireless operator of the Titanic, unfortunately; had not received the message beforehand from any of the nearby ships about the iceberg. The sea was unusually calm, no ripples or movements indicating that the iceberg was floating at all--a trap set for the innocent maiden as she made her way straight for the block of ice.

The crew and officers tried to put the engines in reverse so as to steer the ship away from the icy block that threatened to destroy her dreams. There were only thirty-seven seconds left to warn them all. They were too late.

The Titanic hit the iceberg, creating holes in the side as water began to splash in, the gap becoming bigger as the Titanic sailed away from the berg, water spilling into five compartments in just minutes. The pain washed into her, gutting her whole and leaving no room spare. Above, on deck, people had come out to see the commotion. Ice from the fallen pieces of the iceberg landed on the deck and people began to kick them around, sliding them across the deck, playing a sort of ice-soccer. They never knew.

Soon, Mr. Andrews, the designer of the Titanic, was informed of the collision and set out to talk with the captain about the damage. With the five compartments filled with water at the bottom of the Titanic, it was only a matter of time before she began to sink. He informed the captain that they only had an hour, maybe two at the most. He never saw land again. Around 12:05 AM on Monday, April 15, 1912, the captain ordered that the lifeboats be uncovered. However, there were only twenty lifeboats on board; the White Star Line had not backed the order of there being more lifeboats on the Titanic and had thought the ship’s decks would be too cluttered.

Less than half the lives on Titanic would be saved.

At 12:10 AM, a distress signal was sent out to the Olympic, the Frankfurt, and the Carpathia. The Carpathia was the closest to the Titanic, fifty-eight miles away from it. The last message was sent at 1:45 AM. Engine room full up to boilers. At 2:05 AM, the wireless operators were released. It was not enough.

12:25 AM. The order to put women and children into lifeboats was given out to all passengers. Frightened mothers, daughters, wives, sisters, aunts, cousins, and grandmothers were given over to the officers. Crying, screaming, yelling, calling out names, reaching with fingers, hands, arms, emotions, hearts for the ones they loved. The men they knew they were leaving behind called out to them, tearing at them with tearful good-byes, their heartfelt touches, their lingering words. Echoing, pulsing throughout each one. The Titanic wept with them for their good-byes and separation, for she, too, was saying good-bye.

12:45 AM. The first lifeboat, Number 7, was lowered onto the icy ocean as people screamed and ran, fear coursing through them as their ship of dreams suddenly became a ship of nightmares. People were shot at, trying to be kept in lines as panic drove them over the edge, life itself seeping away from them. The ship felt the hundreds of footsteps running over her decks, terror laced through each step that hit the remaining ground of her deck. She had tried to be strong for them, leading them to the new world they had dreamed so hard about. But now--now, there was no hope, no endless dream that could save them…she cried out.

12:55 AM. The first rockets were fired, sending flares into the air. Their sparkling shine went into the black abyss of the sky as the stars looked on silently, dimming as if to shy away from the proverbial deaths that were to happen in a matter of time. The water reflected the blackness of the sky, icy blue swirling in its depths at the promise of freezing cold and endless suffering. But there was only more screaming, more fear, more panic, more suffocation, more steps taken towards death. The last rockets were fired at 1:40 AM.

From 12:25 AM to 2:20 AM, lifeboats were continually sent out. It would only cause more grief in the end. She never stopped weeping.

At the dreadful hour of 2:20 AM on Monday, April 15, 1912, the Titanic sank beneath the waves. The water had spilled back and back over each deck until it was flooded. The water had crept slowly into each hall and room, as if slowly tracking its prey. Then, when the pressure had become unbearable, the water gushed forth and destroyed everything in sight; it claimed its reward, the Titanic.

Those who were not able to get in lifeboats were left in the water, freezing to death from the unbearable conditions and hypothermia. They tried to seize lifeboats, trying to turn them over or gain entry, but all was in vain. Screams echoed in the night at the pain, anguish, torment, and suffering as people were crushed either by the sinking of the ship or by each other. Their deaths were slow and agonizing as they called out to each other, to loved ones they would never see again, to God to save them and spare them. They waited for the one thing that would never come--absolution.

People who had not been able to get into a boat or did not want to die by plunging into the water went back into their rooms and waited for the icy water to come to them. Mothers telling stories to their children, married couples staying together, family members huddling, friends talking, all together for the last time. Clothes, furniture, suitcases, luggage, dolls, pictures, portraits--everything that was theirs was destroyed or preserved…not to be seen until decades later.

The captain stayed on board, the early retirement never coming for him as he went down with the ship, welcoming the sea and never leaving her, as a true sailor should…to the sea he went, hearing her beckon him once more, just as she had called him all those years ago when he had been young. Locking himself in the room that contained the helm of the once-mighty ship, he waited to have his last conversation with the sea. Afterwards, the captain could only watch and feel as the windows crashed in around him and frigid blue water surrounded him; still standing by the helm as the sea took her faithful sailor with her.

The Titanic split at the keel of the ship, wailing as the terror ripped through the people, the sound of it like thunder rolling into the ears of those who were in boats. After it broke away, the keel stayed afloat in the water for a few moments until it sank, as well…the wreckage of the ship landed a half a mile away from where it had struck the berg.

Bodies floated in the water, never again to feel pain, the numbing sensation spreading through them before they fell into absolute oblivion, blue with ice as the sea took them and let their bodies swirl down gently to a watery grave, pale, ghostly, empty eyes staring forever up at the sky, looking for something or someone to save them.

Seven hundred five people were picked up by the Carpathia by 8:30 AM on Monday, April 15, 1912 and were brought to New York City Harbor on Thursday, April 18, 1912.

At the beginning, there had been two thousand, two hundred twenty people on board the Titanic, despite the fact that the ship could’ve held more passengers. One thousand, five hundred twenty-three had been left behind in the freezing Atlantic, left to drown or freeze.

After arriving in the harbor, the press was all over the story of the great maritime tragedy. Family members, husbands, wives, brothers, sisters, cousins, aunts, uncles--crying, yelling, screaming, reaching out for the ones they had lost…never to come home to them. Although the story of Titanic has been told around the world, the only true story will be known by those who survived and experienced the whole sinking itself.

Nature has a way of putting man back in his place, demonstrating to him time after time that he will never be the true master of the world. Though cruel in this act, the sea was only acting upon this vow. The Titanic was man’s greatest accomplishment in that era, making them the top of all other beings, their dreaming and strength poured into the vessel that had sailed triumphantly at first and then ended in tragedy. The sea, in the end, hadn’t been cruel, but merely righteous in seeking to prove once more who was truly the supreme being in the world. The people on board the Titanic had thought themselves to be invincible, convinced that they would be safe on board the luxury liner. Though they had been cocky and careless with their ways; their deaths were not necessary. The sea is not merciful when she is taunted and will not rest easily on the souls of those whom she hungers and calls for.

For those who perished, I dedicate this poem to you.

The Sea and Her Ways

Bluer than sapphires and deepest of eyes
Many of fortune and race were her cost
Gray like her foes and small like her spies
Mistress of cruelty and mother of lost.
Dormant by time and lost without a find
Treasures more precious than life are gold
To many she is deaf whilst to me is kind
Stories of legends were of countless bold.
White foam blooms and flows like blood through my veins
As she takes with her works of wood and craft
Stabs the wounds and causes much of old pains
Silver clouds billow as winds of old draft.
My treasure love for her remains my true
Which is why I’ll always answer to blue.

For those who died, may you rest knowing your stories have been passed on, your legends told, and your identities forever known. I am truly sorry that you experienced such terror and anguish, pain taking over you as you went down. But now you rest in the place where you have found peace. May you remain in God’s good graces, forever watchful of those who are lost at sea like you once were.

Though the story of Titanic continues to grow and spread to every generation, there will be places in the hearts of those who are truly touched by all this ship represented and destroyed.

And though the sea is still deep and blue, there will always be a gray spot in her where the Titanic now lies.

The End.

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