SHIP OF DREAMS
Chapter Eleven

"We’ve passed several small chunks of ice, Will. Don’t you think we should tell Smith, or at least slow down?" Moody asked.

"No, we’re fine," Murdoch replied as he shook his head. He heard Moody retreat back into the main bridge house. All was quiet.

Murdoch briskly rubbed his hands together. The leather gloves he wore didn’t keep them as warm as he would have liked. He considered getting a cup of tea; the evening had been boring, and there seemed to be no cause for alarm. And that was when he saw it.

The warning bell rang three times as Murdoch identified a great, massive iceberg directly in front of the ship. His blood ran cold. The telephone rang inside the enclosed bridge house, and Murdoch turned to see Moody slowly walking to answer the phone, cup of tea in hand.

"Yes. What do you see? Thank you," Moody tersely but calmly said. He turned to Murdoch as he replaced the receiver, suddenly losing all calmness. "Iceberg right ahead!"

Murdoch ran into Moody in his attempt to reach the ship’s telegraph and somewhat violently threw the lever to relay, "Stop! Full speed astern!" to the engine room. At the same time, he yelled "Hard a’ starboard!" to Quartermaster Hitchens. He heard Moody echo his command from behind Hitchens.

"The helm is hard over, sir," Moody replied.

The berg grew larger and larger before him. "Come on...come on...turn...turn!" Murdoch’s knuckles grew white as he grabbed the railing. After what seemed like an eternity, the bow finally began to turn left. He clenched his jaw tightly as a fine saline mist dampened his brow. A drop of sweat ran down his jaw. He held his breath, and it seemed like the rest of the officers and crewmen were doing the same. And then...an agonizing crunch as Murdoch felt the deck sway beneath him. The ship groaned as though in tremendous pain. But there was no time to waste.

Murdoch ran to ring the watertight door alarm. He quickly threw the switch to close them, then yelled, "Hard a’ port!" It’s amidships. We can clear the stern. Clear the stern. No.

The alarm bells continued to clatter mindlessly. Murdoch stared straight ahead in shock. I just ran the largest ship in history into an iceberg on its maiden voyage. He looked at the berg. It was just higher than the boat deck. He turned to Moody somewhat mechanically.

"What was that, Mr. Murdoch?" Smith tucked in his shirt as he ran out of his cabin.

"Note the time. Enter it in the log," Murdoch told Moody, then turned to Smith. "An iceberg, sir. I put her hard a’ starboard and run the engines full astern, but it was too close. I tried to port around it, but she hit...and I—"

"Close the emergency doors," Smith commanded.

"They are already closed, sir," Murdoch replied, in a daze. He followed Smith out to the starboard wing, and Murdoch pointed far down the hull. The iceberg was already gone.

"Find the carpenter and get him to sound the ship." Smith whirled around to Fourth Officer Boxhall.

*****

Anne’s eyes snapped open. Something was wrong. She immediately sat up in the darkness and flipped the light on. Something had woken her. The engines have stopped. She looked around her room. A vase of flowers had been sitting precariously close to the edge of the table. Now, it had fallen and smashed on the floor. Wet roses lay limply in a puddle of cold water and broken glass. Something happened.

She jumped out of bed, forgetting her kimono and slippers. She threw open the door to her stateroom. Already, the corridor was sparsely dotted with bewildered people who had come to see what had happened. A confused chatter began to fill the hallway. Finally, a steward walked past. Someone asked what had happened, and then the chatter changed to people explaining that the ship had thrown a propeller blade. Except, Anne had heard the steward, and he had said that "We’ve likely thrown a propeller blade." Likely. He wasn’t positive. Mr. Murdoch will know. She began pushing through annoyed people who wondered when they’d get underway again, and whether or not they’d arrive in New York on time.

*****

Murdoch followed Smith and Andrews like a forlorn puppy who’d been abandoned. Still in shock, the reality of it all was still sinking in. He hovered behind Smith and Andrews as they discussed the seriousness of the damage. He stood beside Ismay, who wouldn’t stop asking when they’d get underway.

"Water fourteen feet above the keel in ten minutes...in the forepeak...in all three holds...and in boiler room six," Andrews nervously stated.

"That’s right." Smith nodded, calmer than he felt.

"Five compartments. She can stay afloat with the first four compartments breached. But not five. Not five. As she goes down by the head the water will spill over the tops of the bulkheads...at E Deck...from one to the next, back and back. There’s no stopping it." Andrews grew pale.

"The pumps—"

"The pumps will buy you time, but minutes only. From this moment on, no matter what we do, Titanic will founder." Andrews shook his head.

"But this ship can’t sink!" Mr. Ismay, the director of the White Star Line, incredulously exclaimed.

"She is made of iron, sir. I assure you, she can. And she will. It is a mathematical certainty." Andrews nodded.

"How much time?" Smith asked, his voice hollow and empty.

"An hour, two at most," Andrews softly replied.

"And how many aboard, Mr. Murdoch?" Smith turned to the first officer.

"Two thousand, two hundred souls aboard, sir," Murdoch answered. His mind reeled. There aren’t enough lifeboats. He was responsible for their deaths. The lifeboats...they would have to be filled to capacity. Even then, people would die. The mailroom was already flooded. Roughly fifteen hundred. Two out of three of the passengers and crew. Dead. Dead.

*****

Anne raced through the corridors determinedly. For the first time, she made it to B Deck without getting lost even once. She ran to the bridge, and then stopped. She looked down below. Ice. There was ice scattered all over the deck, and some of the passengers were playing with it. Ice? Ice. My heavens! Ice! She frantically looked around for Murdoch. Where is he?

Finally, she spotted him at the bridge. He was talking to Smith. Or rather, they were both staring off into space. She ran up to both of them.

"What’s happened?" Her eyes were wild with fear, even though she tried to hide it. "I felt a shudder. The engines have stopped. There is ice on the deck. Tell me."

"My fault...it’s all my fault." Murdoch slowly led Anne aside. "She hit...she hit. You...you need to get something warmer on. Get your lifebelt. Get back up here. I’ll put you on the first boat I launch."

"W-what?" Anne blinked and shook her head. "What?"

"Miss Stewart, you need to listen to me. We don’t have much time. You need to dress as warmly as possible and get back up here as fast as you can." Murdoch’s tone frightened Anne, and he could tell. But he didn’t care, as long as she was safe. He had promised. "Now, go!"

Anne nodded numbly. She turned away and sprinted back into the first class entrance. She ran down the cold marble stairs of the Grand Staircase in her bare feet. One corridor, then another. She stopped outside her stateroom. A steward methodically moved down the hall. He woke everyone and asked them to put their lifebelts on. No, he obnoxiously pounded on doors and demanded that everyone put their lifebelts on. Rose.

Immediately, Anne tore off in the opposite direction. B-52? Or was it B-54? Or B-56, even? Or all three? Or none of them? She reached the promenade suite rooms. One of the doors was already opened, but a steward, the one who had gone to Anne’s room on Murdoch’s behalf, was there to ensure that everyone put their lifebelts on.

"Oh, Anne! I saw the iceberg!" Rose ran to her cousin.

"I know. We haven’t much time," Anne quietly but seriously said. She frowned. Rose had a red bruise on her cheek. "What happened?"

"That’s none of your business!" Hockley snapped as he suddenly grabbed Rose’s wrist possessively. "Now, go."

"Will you be all right?" Anne asked her stepsister. When Rose nodded, Anne left the room and ran back to her own stateroom. She barely noticed the lavish furnishings in the promenade suite.

*****

The boat deck was noisy. Steam hissed as the crew fumbled with the new Welin davits. Orders were shouted. Boats were uncovered. Smith had already called for assistance over the radio. The Carpathia had received the message. The Cape Race, the Mount Temple, and the La Provence had received the foundering ship’s distress signal.

"Where are all the passengers?" Andrews yelled to be heard above the clamor.

"They’re all inside...too cold and noisy!" Wilde yelled in reply. He turned back to the boats as Andrew stumbled away, as though in a nightmare he couldn’t escape.

Murdoch prepared Lifeboat No. 7. He called passengers forward–women and children first–to step into the boat. But no one wanted to leave the warm, brightly lit ship for the cold, rickety lifeboat. Reality hit him hard. He scanned the area for Anne. Where is she? Maybe she’s gone for Rose. Of all the times to be kind...

*****

"Anne!" Megan ran into Anne’s stateroom. "Do you have your lifebelt?"

"Yes. Do you?" Anne asked with concern.

"Yes, but will that matter?" Megan forced a laugh. "Come. We have to get you dressed."

Without another word, the two women began searching Anne’s wardrobe. Finally, Anne put her green velvet dress on atop her nightgown for warmth. She slid on her shoes while Megan wrapped her lace shawl around her, and Anne made sure her locket was around her neck. She wrapped her father’s pocket watch in her handkerchief. Then, she looked around the room.

"There’s no time!" Megan exclaimed as she threw Anne her leather gloves. "The others may pretend that this is all a drill, but I’m sure they won’t in another hour!"

Anne grabbed her copy of Jane Eyre and shoved it in her pocket, along with her watch. She threw all of her money into her pockets; it was all she had. She snatched her lifebelt from her bed, along with her coat.

"Ready?" Megan asked.

"Almost." Anne grabbed another lifebelt from the room and shoved it into Megan’s hands. "You’re coming with me."

"I can’t." Megan sadly shook her head. "I have to make sure everyone else is out."

"Then I’ll stay and help," Anne desperately offered.

"No. You have to go." Megan shook her head. She blinked to quell the tears.

"Will you meet me on the starboard side, where Mr. Murdoch is loading the lifeboats?" Anne asked, and Megan nodded. "I’ll wait." With that, she ran from the room and up toward the boat deck.

*****

"Anne!" Murdoch called for the young woman. He paused. It was the first time he’d called her by her first name intentionally. "Anne!"

"Will!" Anne exclaimed. Since when have we been on a first name basis? "I’m sorry it took me so long. I don’t know where Rose and Jack are."

"I saw them on the other side of the ship earlier. They’re safe. Come. We have to move quickly." Murdoch took her hand gently.

"Wait." Anne stopped at the edge of the ship. There were already twenty aboard. "When will you be coming? How much later? You’ll be on another lifeboat, when they don’t need you, won’t you?"

"It won’t take me long; I’ll be along later," Murdoch replied. He knew they’d need him to the end. After all, wasn’t that his duty? Wasn’t it his fault? His heart was racing. Come on, Anne. Get into the boat. I need to see you physically in the lifeboat, in the water, away from the ship. I need to know you’re safe. He looked into Anne’s eyes; he knew she knew he was lying. "Please, Anne."

"No." Anne shook her head. "I’ll wait. There are other lifeboats to be lowered. I’ll get in one of the last ones."

"Anne," Murdoch began, but realized that arguing only wasted precious time. Besides, he knew she would have her way. "All right. Step back." He turned to the others. "I need more women and children!"

However, at 12:45 a.m., No. 7 was lowered with only nineteen people aboard. Anne looked at Murdoch somewhat uneasily. That lifeboat holds sixty-five. Sixty-five. "Forty-six more people could have been saved."

Murdoch stopped. He glanced over at Anne sadly as a distress rocket exploded brightly and loudly in the air above. She had no idea...he had been the one to run the ship into the iceberg in the first place. And now...and now he had sealed the fates of forty-six others. How many more would die? He moved down the ship slowly, as though it pained him. No. He had to move faster. People were depending on him.

Anne regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. She saw the pain in his eyes. It wasn’t his fault. Still, she made a decision to help instead of stand around. She tossed her lifebelt and coat to the side, where they would be hidden from view. "Please, will you step into the lifeboat?"

The small party of six standing near the boat stared at Anne with contempt. Who was the young woman dressed in what seemed her best, ordering her elders into a lifeboat? No one listened to her.

"Please, you must step into the boat now." Ismay soon appeared beside them. After he urged the group a bit longer, the six boarded lifeboat No. 5. Ismay counted forty-one aboard.

"Good-bye and good luck," Murdoch told Third Officer Pitman, who would man the lifeboat. He glanced at his pocket watch. 12:55. "Lower away! By the left and right together, steady lads!"

As she watched the lifeboat lower away from the ship, she remembered something. "Make sure the plug is in!" she called out. She glanced over the side in time to see Quartermaster Alfred Olliver plug the hole shortly after the boat hit the water.

"It’s a good thing I have you here." Murdoch grinned over at Anne, despite the circumstances.

Anne watched the scene play out before her as though she was frozen in time. She watched Murdoch fill lifeboat 3. People were still certain that the Titanic wasn’t going to sink, but Anne was fairly certain that the water was growing closer and closer by the second. The unsinkable ship...is sinking. She smiled tenderly at a young boy clutching a toy polar bear. He boarded with his mother, his maid, and his mother’s maid. Shortly thereafter, Murdoch allowed the boy’s father to enter the lifeboat, as well, as it was not full. He lowered it with thirty-two people, less than half of its full capacity. She watched as Murdoch walked farther down the ship. He called for more people.

Murdoch glanced back at Anne. She looked lost. Afraid. Small. She looked ready to break down sobbing, and he prayed that she wouldn’t. Though he wanted to just run over to her and pull her into his embrace, he couldn’t comfort her and try to launch the lifeboats at the same time. Time was running out. He turned back and tried to hide the weariness in his eyes. He put on a brave face and began filling the lifeboat with tireless effort. But his effort only filled the starboard emergency cutter with twelve people. The boat could hold forty. But he wanted to save those he could. He wasn’t certain of the weight, and he could not wait forever to fill the lifeboats to their full capacities. He looked into each person’s eyes as he helped them board. Sir Cosmo and Lady Lucille Duff-Gordon. Their secretary, Miss Laura Francatelli. Two American men I’ve never seen before.

The nameplate on the bow was underwater. They didn’t have much time. Anne ran away from the boat deck. Murdoch still had four boats to launch, not including the two Engelhardt collapsible boats. She could find Rose in time...and if she didn’t find Rose, she could look for Megan. And if she couldn’t find either, and Murdoch had launched all of his boats, well...Anne tried not to think about that possibility.

She ran to her hidden coat and lifebelt, and then to the port side of the ship. Rose was nowhere to be seen. She must have gotten off. She must be in a lifeboat. But then she knew Rose hadn’t disembarked the ship. There. There was Hockley. Holding Rose against her will. Anne looked out over the edge of the ship. The lifeboat with Ruth in it was slowly fading into the darkness. She turned back in time to see Rose spit in Hockley’s face before disappearing into the crowd. Where’s Jack? Anne began to run in the direction she’d seen Rose run, careful to avoid Hockley.

Anne ran past a young couple kissing passionately. The young woman was crying hysterically, and her husband was feigning optimism. Anne’s heart hurt at the sight. She quickly tapped the young woman’s shoulder. "Come with me. There are boats on the other side letting men on."

"Thank you!" the young woman exclaimed, grabbing her husband’s hand. She appeared to be younger than Anne.

Anne quickly led the two back to the starboard side through the bridge. Just as she arrived, Murdoch was lowering No. 9, which was filled with fifty-six of sixty-five. It seemed as though people were finally realizing that the ship was indeed sinking. Anne wasn’t certain that she quite realized it yet, though. Suddenly, the women started to scream as the boat lurched sharply to the left. It threatened to spill its contents, and Murdoch quickly called the lowering to a halt.

"Steady on the left! Right side only! Right side only, now!" Murdoch called out, his breath making a small cloud of steam in front of his face. He leaned over the edge of the deck, making sure the boat was lowered steadily. "Both sides together now!"

"He’ll put you on the next boat," Anne reassured the couple. True to her word, Anne saw the couple placed in lifeboat No. 11. She smiled weakly. They were getting off safely. They were getting off with those they loved. Anne looked over at Murdoch. He was busy filling the lifeboat up with more people. It seemed, to her, that the boat had been filled over capacity, and she prayed that it would hold.

"Oh, please let me go with my children!" Anne turned to see a woman jump in 11 to be with a young boy and girl as it was being lowered. The woman turned back and looked up at the deck again. "Ruth! Get in another boat!"

"Anne!" Murdoch’s gaze rested on her lone form. She stood against the wall of one of the buildings, her lifebelt in one hand and coat in the other. She seemed so forlorn. So afraid. And yet...so brave. "I forgot...I thought I’d gotten you off already. I’m so sorry!"

"There are still other boats. Keep loading them. I can wait." Anne nodded. "There are still two others, and A and C."

"But I need to know you’re going to be safe," Murdoch said.

"You will. I promise," Anne said. She remembered the promises Murdoch had made earlier that week. He’s only seeing them through. His words echoed in her mind. I will get you to New York safe and sound. She turned away to bring others to the lifeboats.

Murdoch stared after her. Well, she’s a fighter. But if this ship sinks and she’s not in a lifeboat... He resisted the urge to run after her, grab her, and toss her into the nearest lifeboat, like he had young Ruth, who hadn’t gotten into 11 in time.

"Megan!" Anne briefly smiled upon seeing the maid run towards her. "You made it!"

"I shouldn’t go, though. So many people..." Megan shook her head.

"Megan, your parents would want to see you alive. They would want you to live." Anne nodded. "Please, please say you’ll come."

"I..." Megan’s eyes turned back to the other people and the brightly lit interior.

"Come on." Anne grabbed the young woman’s wrist before she could protest.

Lifeboat 13 had just been lowered when Anne and Megan reached the next boat to be launched. Anne felt her muscles tense. Mr. Hockley had approached Murdoch about something, and Anne walked closer so she could hear. All she could hear was, "So we have an understanding, then?" However, she did happen to see Hockley shove a huge wad of bills into the waist pocket of Murdoch’s greatcoat. She gasped in surprise and waited for Hockley to leave. "You’re not going to accept that, are you?"

"Anne," Murdoch began, but stopped. She was right. How could he accept the money? Besides, Hockley had shoved it into his pocket; he hadn’t asked for it. "No. You have to get in this next boat, all right? It’s my last one."

"No, it isn’t." Anne shook her head. "A is your last one, and it’s on the roof of the officers’ quarters."

"Anne," Murdoch said, frustrated. Why did she have to know everything? "You’re getting in this boat. I don’t know how difficult it will be to get A from the roof. I don’t know if it will be rushed by desperate people. But I want you in this boat."

Anne stared at him. He was speaking to her so seriously, so sternly, that it surprised her. She looked into his eyes. They were tired. They were tired and angry and frustrated and sad. But they were brave and determined. Anne tried to match his level of braveness, but she couldn’t. She was frightened beyond belief, and she didn’t want it to show. But it did. And she had to look away.

Murdoch placed two fingers beneath Anne’s chin. He slowly raised her head so she looked him in the eye. Tears were welling in emerald pools that reflected the light of the ship. He could see the reflection of the distress rockets in her eyes. He felt his heart break. He didn’t want to leave her. But he had to. He wanted her to survive, at least.

Anne watched him finish loading one of the Engelhardt boats. Somewhere on the port side, someone fired three shots. Lifeboat 13 was almost crushed by 15 as they descended too closely together. But Anne hardly noticed. She stared ahead numbly. She watched Murdoch help people into the lifeboat. When it was filled, there were forty people. Then, he turned to her. She felt a stinging sensation in her throat and at the back of her eyes. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. They didn’t stand but a foot apart, but they closed the distance in an instant when she ran into his arms. "I don’t want to leave you. I don’t want to go. Please, please don’t make me go." She clutched him tighter. She smelled his aftershave and tried to memorize the scent. She tried to memorize the strength she felt when he held her, tried to somehow take it for her own.

"I don’t want to leave you, either. But I have a duty. And I promised I’d get you to New York. Now, you will." Murdoch forced a smile.

"I just hoped that we’d arrive together," Anne whispered.

"We will. We’ll always be together." Will nodded. He pulled away briefly, pulling his pocket watch from his coat. "Here. I want you to have this. And I want you to have this, too." He pulled a single gold band from his finger. "It once belonged to my great-great grandfather. It’s a tradition to hand it down to the men of the family for marriage and all that romantic nonsense, but I don’t think I’ll be able to give it to anyone."

"No. You’re going to give it to your son someday." Anne shook her head, pushing the wedding ring back to him.

"I want you to give it to yours," Murdoch whispered into her ear as he slipped the ring into her hand, closing her fingers around the metal, warm from wear. "Now, you’d better get in before the ship sinks completely."

Anne nodded stiffly. She slipped the pocket watch into her pocket, along with the ring he’d given her and the other possessions she’d shoved there. She blinked her tears away, but couldn’t keep a few salt drops from escaping.

Murdoch gently took her lifebelt and coat from her hands. She complied without a protest. He slowly helped her into the coat and buttoned it numbly. Then, he gingerly slipped her lifebelt over her head and tied it for her. He raised a hand to caress her cheek and felt the cool tears against his hand. He hesitated for a moment, and she looked up into his eyes. Without a second thought, he leaned down as she leaned up. Their lips briefly touched in a kiss, and then he helped her into the lifeboat.

Anne sat down in the lifeboat beside Megan, among several other third class women and children. She hardly noticed that Mr. Ismay had stolen into the boat and sat across from her. All she could do was stare at Murdoch. She knew she’d never see him again, at least not alive. Her heart seemed to rip into shreds. Tears coursed freely so that they blurred her vision, but she could not take her eyes from him. He had kissed her. It was her first kiss. It had been brief, chaste. Innocent. She raised a shaking hand to touch her lips. So, that’s what a kiss is like. My first...our last. Why isn’t he lowering the boat? Slowly, she let her hand fall back into her lap as she heard Murdoch order the lifeboat to be lowered. Then she realized why. It was because of Ismay. But she didn’t care. She locked gazes with Murdoch. Safe, Anne. You have to stay safe. Stay in the boat. Go to New York. Stay in the boat. Their eyes never left each other’s the entire way to the ocean. Anne was vaguely aware that the canvas sides of the collapsible boat were scraping against the rivets in the side of the ship, but she didn’t bother to help push it away. A few others were doing so. And then...she was helping another woman and a few other men row the lifeboat away from the sinking ship, away from Murdoch, away from the other doomed passengers.

"We’re going to pull through this," Megan whispered reassuringly. "It’ll be all right, Anne."

"There are only three more boats," Anne whispered. She stared at the dying ship. The creaks and groans were its death rattle. The people were screaming, running, jumping, falling.

"Come alongside!" Smith yelled through his megaphone. Fools! There are women and children aboard. And plenty of room! "Come alongside!"

"We...we have to go back," Anne hoarsely managed. "We have to go back and pick up others."

"This boat only holds forty-seven," a crewman said. "We already have forty-two."

"Well, we can save five," Megan piped up. She shivered against the cold.

"They’ll swamp us. And then no one will survive!" the crewman exclaimed. "We’re staying where we are. Actually, we should row farther away. There will be suction when the ship sinks, and it’ll pull us under."

Anne was numb. She couldn’t feel her body, yet she continued to row. She wasn’t certain if she was numb because of the cold, or if there was another underlying cause. She looked back to the ship. The rudder was slowly rising out of the water. The ship was still brightly lit. It looked so cheery, except for the fact that the bow was diving deeper into the water. The water swirled up around the metal railings and onto the decks, and people ran towards the stern. She tried to find Murdoch among the others, but couldn’t. They were rowing too far away. All she could see were frantic shapes screaming in the darkness. A mother was crooning to her young child somewhere in the boat in a language Anne didn’t understand. She looked up at the sky. Stars, too many to count, sprinkled the vast expanse of the sky in a serene peace out of place above the grave of so many.

Chapter Twelve
Stories