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.