SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Ten
"Eternal Father strong to
save…" Anne stood at the back of the room at the divine service Sunday
morning at eleven o’clock AM. "Whose arm doth bind the restless wave…"
She looked around the dining saloon. "Who bids the mighty ocean deep…"
Her eyes rested on the back of Rose’s head, between Hockley’s and Ruth’s.
"Its own appointed limits keep…" She turned her gaze to Smith,
who led the service. "Oh, hear us when we cry to Thee, for those in
peril on the sea."
After the service, Anne took a
walk around the decks. Mr. Andrews led a small tour around the ship, which
included Hockley, Ruth, Rose, and Anne. Anne had only agreed to go after Rose
pleaded with her. Rose needed someone to keep her sane!
"Reminds me of my Harvard
days," Hockley commented as he worked the oars of one of the stationary
rowing machines in the gymnasium.
Anne suppressed the urge to
comment about him attending Harvard. She instead occupied herself with watching
Mr. McCauley, the gym instructor, flip the switch on an electric horse.
"Care to try your hand at
rowing, Ma’am?" Mr. McCauley asked Ruth, gesturing to the machine.
"Don’t be absurd," Ruth
scoffed. "I can’t think of a skill I should likely need less."
Anne lightly rolled her eyes as
Mr. Andrews led them to the bridge. She smiled upon seeing Murdoch, who nodded
ever so slightly in greeting. Just then, a rather young man brushed past the
group and handed a piece of paper to Smith.
"Another ice warning, sir.
This one’s from the Amerika," the man said.
"Thank you, Sparks."
Smith glanced at the message, then shoved it into his pocket. He seemed to
notice the slightly worried expressions on Rose’s and Anne’s faces. "Not
to worry. It’s quite normal for this time of year. In fact, we’re speeding up.
I’ve just ordered the last boilers lit."
"That’s the second ice
warning today," Mr. Andrews muttered under his breath. He shook his head.
More speed? And ice warnings?
Anne’s eyes quickly swept the
bridge to rest on Murdoch. She could tell he had heard Andrews’ comment. You
didn’t tell me. Of course, we haven’t exactly seen each other. She moved
towards the door with the rest of her group. As the last to leave, she saw
Lightoller exit the chartroom and enter the main bridge house.
"Will, have we found the
binoculars for the lookouts?" Lightoller asked Murdoch.
"Haven’t seen them since
Southampton," came the reply.
Anne fought the urge to glance
back. So, not only were they speeding up in the midst of ice, but also the
lookouts had no binoculars. How were they to spot ice?
Mr. Andrews was discussing the
lifeboat capacity with Rose when Anne noticed a young gentleman standing
between two of the boats. However, as they passed, she quickly realized that
the man was no wealthy socialite, but rather Jack Dawson. She pretended not to
see him, lest she draw attention to him, and tugged lightly on Rose’s sleeve.
However, Jack captured her attention and pulled her away. To make Rose’s
disappearance less suspicious, Anne slowly lagged farther and farther behind,
until she was away from the group, as well. No one else had noticed the
departure of either woman.
She walked around the boat deck,
where she finally saw Murdoch. He asked if she’d wait until two, which was when
his watch ended. She agreed, and continued to walk around the deck. When his
watch finished, Murdoch fell into step alongside her, and they both quietly
walked around the boat deck, staying close to the bridge.
"How visible are icebergs at
night?" Anne suddenly asked.
"It depends. There’s usually
a ring of foam at the base, where the waves crash against it. And you can smell
icebergs before you can see them, because of the minerals they give off. But on
days like today…" Murdoch nodded toward the calm, clear ocean. "…it
will be difficult. There will be no breaking waves. But we can still smell
them."
Anne nodded. She knew Murdoch
could tell she wasn’t assured at all, but she didn’t care. She was frightened
half to death, and there was an odd feeling in the pit of her stomach.
Something wasn’t right.
"The Caronia reported
icebergs, field ice, and growlers at forty-two degrees north, from forty-nine
degrees to fifty-one degrees west," Murdoch finally admitted. "That
was at nine o’clock AM today. At 11:40 AM, the Noordam reported much ice
roundabout where the Caronia had. And at 1:42, the Baltic reported ice about
four hundred meters ahead. Oh, the Amerika reported two large bergs at 1:45.
Don’t look at me like that. I promised you I’d get you to New York safely, and
I intend on keeping that promise. We might even get there early. We’re
traveling at twenty-two knots. That’s almost full speed for us."
"Is that so we can hit the
bergs with full impact?" Anne quipped. "I have a queer feeling, and
I’ve had it since I woke up. There have been four warnings in less than five
hours. And it’s only Sunday!"
"Miss Stewart, stop
worrying. Everything will be fine." Murdoch gently placed his hands on
Anne’s forearms. "I promise."
"That’s two rather lofty
promises. I hope you can keep them." Anne smiled good-naturedly.
"Let’s hope," Murdoch
replied with a grin, more serious than he let on. Where are the bloody
binoculars?
*****
The temperature had dropped to a
frigid thirty-three degrees Fahrenheit. And yet, Anne was standing at the
gunwale on the starboard boat deck. She was wrapped in the shawl Murdoch had
given her, the cold air making her drowsy. The moon was hidden by clouds, and
she couldn’t make the distinction between the ocean and the sky at the horizon.
Anne didn’t even know why she was outside in such chilly weather; her nose was
cold and so were her cheeks and ears. Her hands were freezing.
"You should be asleep,"
Murdoch whispered in Anne’s ear. He saw her on his way to the bridge, and
quietly approached the young woman. "Aren’t you cold?"
"Very." Anne smiled.
"I have no idea why I’m out here."
"Well, neither do I."
Murdoch grinned as the two walked towards the bridge. "I’m cold, and I’ve
only been out here for a few minutes. I’ll be out here ‘til two!"
"Sounds wonderful,"
Anne teased, then yawned. She turned to see Lightoller approaching them.
"Captain Smith has retired
for the evening, but you’re to alert him if it looks at all doubtful. I’ve
ordered the lookouts to keep sharp observations for bergs and growlers. James
predicts we’ll hit the ice at twenty-three hundred hours, and Hemming told me
you had him close a hatch on the forward deck because of the glare, so that
should make the bergs easier to spot," Lightoller informed Murdoch.
"It’s thirty-two degrees and we’re traveling at twenty-two point five
knots. I’ve had enough of this blasted weather for one evening. Cheerio."
"G’night, Lights!"
Murdoch called.
"Well, I’ll let you get to
work. I don’t want to hinder you at all, especially with all of these ice
warnings. I’ll see you tomorrow?" Anne asked as she tried to ignore
Lightoller’s we’ll hit the ice phrase.
"Right, then." Murdoch
nodded and gently squeezed her hand. "‘Night."
"Good night." Anne
smiled, then returned to her stateroom.