TITANIC: A STORY TOLD
Chapter Fifty-Four
Lightoller had his boats swung out. He was
standing amidst a crowd of uncertain passengers in all states of dress and
undress. One first class woman was barefoot. Others were in stockings. The
maitre d’ of the restaurant was in top hat and overcoat. Others were still in
evening dress, while some were in bathrobes and kimonos. Women were wearing
lifebelts over velvet gowns, then topping it with sable stoles. Some brought
jewels, others books, even small dogs.
Lightoller saw Smith walking stiffly toward
him and quickly went to him. He yelled into the Captain’s ear, through cupped
hands, over the roar of the steam.
"Hadn’t we better get the women and
children into the boats, sir?"
Smith just nodded, a bit abstractly. The fire
had gone out of him. Lightoller saw the awesome truth in Smith’s face.
Lightoller shouted to the men. "Right!
Start the loading. Women and children!"
The appalling din of escaping steam abruptly
cut off, leaving a sudden unearthly silence in which Lightoller’s voice echoed.
Wallace Hartley raised his violin to play.
"Number twenty-six. Ready and--"
The band had reassembled just outside the
First Class Entrance, port side, near where Lightoller was calling for the
boats to be loaded. They struck up a waltz, lively and elegant. The music
wafted all over the ship.
Lightoller indicated the boat. "Ladies,
this way."
No one moved. A couple of women looked down
the side of the ship. It was a long way to the water. With the steam cut off,
and the music playing, the ship seemed very safe and sound. Like a big rock in
the middle of the ocean.
"Ladies, please. Step into the
boat."
Finally, one woman stepped across the gap,
into the boat, terrified of the drop to the water far below.
"You watch. They’ll put us off in these
silly little boats to freeze, and we’ll all be back on board by breakfast,"
said a woman in the crowd.
Cal, Rose, and Ruth came out of the doors
near the band.
"My brooch. I left my brooch. I must
have it!"
Ruth turned back to go to her room, but Cal
took her by the arm, refusing to let her go. The firmness of his hold surprised
her.
"Stay here, Ruth."
Ruth saw his expression, and knew fear for
the first time.
*****
It was chaos in steerage, with stewards
pushing their way through narrow corridors clogged with people carrying
suitcases, duffel bags, children. Some had lifebelts on, others didn’t.
One steward spoke to another. "I told
the stupid sods no luggage. Aw, bloody hell!"
He threw up his hands at the sight of a
family, loaded down with cases and bags, completely blocking the corridor.
Fabrizio and Tommy pushed past the stewards,
going the other way. They reached a huge crowd gathered at the bottom of the
main third class stairwell. Fabrizio spotted Helga with the rest of the Dahl
family, standing patiently with suitcases in hand. He reached her and she
grinned, hugging him.
Tommy pushed to where he could see what was
holding up the group. There was a steel gate across the top of the stairs, with
several stewards and seamen on the other side.
"Stay calm, please. It’s not time to go
up to the boats yet."
Near Tommy, an Irishwoman stood stoically
with two small children and their battered luggage.
"What are we doing, mummy?"
"We’re just waiting, dear. When they
finish putting First Class people in the boats, they’ll be starting in us, and
we’ll want to be all ready, won’t we?"
*****
Boat seven was less than half full, with
twenty-eight aboard a boat made for sixty-five.
"Lower away! By the left and right
together, steady lads!" Murdoch shouted.
The boat lurched as the falls started to pay
out through the pulley blocks. The women gasped. The boat descended, swaying
and jerking, toward the water sixty feet below. The passengers were terrified.
*****
The rows of portholes were angling down into
the water. Under the surface, they glowed green. One porthole was half
submerged. Inside was Jack, looking apprehensively at the water rising up the
glass.
Inside the Master-at-Arm’s office Jack sat
chained to the water pipe, next to the porthole. Lovejoy sat on the edge of a
desk. He put a .45 bullet on the desk and watched it roll across and fall off.
He picked up the bullet.
"You know...I believe this ship may
sink." He walked over to Jack. "I’ve been asked to give you this
small token of our appreciation..."
He punched Jack hard in the stomach, knocking
the wind out of him.
"Compliments of Mr. Caledon
Hockley."
Lovejoy flipped the handcuff key in the air,
caught it, and put it in his pocket. He exited. Jack was left gasping,
handcuffed to the pipe.
*****
At the stairwell rail on the bridge wing,
Fourth Officer Boxhall and Quartermaster Rowe lit the first distress rocket. It
shot into the sky and exploded with a thunderclap over the ship, sending out
white starbursts which lit up the entire deck as they fell.
Ismay, the Managing Director of White Star
Line, was cracking. Already at the breaking point from his immense guilt, the
rocket panicked him. He started shouting at the officers struggling with the
falls of Boat five.
"There is no time to waste!" He
yelled and waved his arms. "Lower away! Lower away! Lower away!"
Fifth Officer Lowe, a baby-faced
twenty-eight, and the youngest officer, looked up from the tangled falls at the
madman.
"Get out of the way, you fool!"
"Do you know who I am?"
Lowe, not having a clue nor caring, squared
up to Ismay.
"You’re a passenger. And I’m a ship’s
bloody officer. Now do what you’re told!" He turned away. "Steady,
men! Stand by the falls!"
Ismay spoke numbly, backing away. "Yes,
quite right. Sorry."