by Tim Maltin
And before the British Court of Inquiry the same officer testified:
Someone shouted: “There are no more women.” Some of the men began climbing in. Then someone said: “There are some more women,” and when they came forward the men got out of the boat again. I saw no men in her, but I believe a couple of Chinese stowed away in her.
When that boat went away there were no women whatever. I did not consider it advisable to wait, but to try to get at once away from the ship. I did not want the boat to be “rushed.” Splendid order was maintained. No attempt was made to “rush” that boat by the men. When this boat was being loaded I could see the water coming up the stairway. There was splendid order on the boat until the last. As far as I know there were no male passengers in the boats I saw off except the one man I ordered in, Major Peuchen.
A. J. Bright, Q. M. (Am. Inq., p. 831):
Quartermaster Rowe, Mr. Boxhall and myself fired the distress signals, six rockets I think in all, at intervals. After we had finished firing the distress signals, there were two boats left (Engelhardt collapsibles “C” and “D”). All the lifeboats were away before the collapsible boats were lowered. They had to be, because the collapsible boats were on the deck and the other boats had to be lowered before they could be used. The same tackle with which the lifeboats and the Emergency boats were lowered was employed after they had gone in lowering the collapsible boats.
Witness says that both he and Rowe assisted in getting out the starboard collapsible boat “C” and then he went to the port side and filled up the other boat “D” with passengers, about twenty-five in all. There was a third-class passenger, a man, in the boat, who was on his way to Albion, N.Y. (The passenger list shows this man to have been Joseph Dugemin.)
We were told to pull clear and get out of the suction. When boat “D” was lowered the forecastle head was just going under water; that would be about twenty feet lower than the bridge, and the ship had then sunk about fifty feet—all of that, because when boat “D” was lowered the foremost fall was lower down and the after one seemed to hang and he called out to hang on to the foremost fall and to see what was the matter and let go the after fall. Boat “D” was fifty to a hundred yards away when the ship sank.17 They had a lantern in the boat but no oil to light it. After leaving the boat, witness heard something but not an explosion. It was like a rattling of chains more than anything else.
After “D” got away Mr. Lowe came alongside in another boat, No. 14, and told them to stick together and asked for the number in “D” boat. Steward Hardy counted and told him. Lowe then put about ten or a dozen men from some other boat into witness’s boat because it was not filled up. One seaman was taken out. This would make thirty-seven in “D” boat. Just at daylight they saw one of the collapsible boats, “A,” that was awash—just flush with the water. Officer Lowe came and took boat “D” in tow, because it had very few men to pull, and towed it to boat “A” and took twelve men and one woman off and put them into his boat No. 14. They were standing in water just about to their ankles when No. 14 and “D” came up to them. They turned the swamped boat adrift with two (three) dead bodies. They were then towed under sail by Mr. Lowe’s boat to the Carpathia, about four miles away.
William Lucas, A. B. (Br. Inq.):
Got into Engelhardt “D.” The water was then right up under the bridge. Had not gone more than 100 yards when there was an explosion and 150 yards when the Titanic sank. Had to get some of the women to take oars. There was no rudder in the boat. Changed oars from one side to the other to get her away. Saw a faint red light abaft the Titanic’s beam about nine miles away—the headlight also. The witness was transferred to No. 12.
J. Hardy, Chief Steward, second-class (Am. Inq., p. 587):
We launched this boat filled with passengers. Mr. Lightoller and myself loaded it. I went away in it with the quartermaster (Bright) and two firemen. There were Syrians in the bottom of the boat, third-class passengers, chattering the whole night in their strange language. There were about twenty-five women and children. We lowered away and got to the water; the ship then had a heavy list to port. We got clear of the ship and rowed out some distance from her. Mr. Lowe told us to tie up with other boats, that we would be better seen and could keep better together. He, having a full complement of passengers in his boat, transferred about ten to ours, making thirty-five in our boat. When we left the ship, where we were lowered, there were no women and children there in sight at all. There was nobody to lower the boat. No men passengers when we were ready to lower it. They had gone; where, I could not say. We were not more than forty feet from the water when we were lowered. We picked up the husband (Frederick W. Hoyt) of a wife that we had loaded in the boat. The gentleman took to the water and climbed in the boat after we had lowered it. He sat there wringing wet alongside me, helping to row.
I had great respect and great regret for Officer Murdoch. I was walking along the deck forward with him and he said: “I believe she is gone, Hardy.” This was a good half hour before my boat was lowered.
Senator Fletcher: Where were all these passengers; these 1,600 people?
Mr. Hardy: They must have been between decks or on the deck below or on the other side of the ship. I cannot conceive where they were.
In his letter to me, Mr. Frederick M. Hoyt relates his experience as follows:
“I knew Captain Smith for over fifteen years. Our conversation that night amounted to little or nothing. I simply sympathized with him on the accident; but at that time, as I then never expected to be saved, I did not want to bother him with questions, as I knew he had all he wanted to think of. He did suggest that I go down to A Deck and see if there were not a boat alongside. This I did, and to my surprise saw the boat “D” still hanging on the davits (there having been some delay in lowering her), and it occurred to me that if I swam out and waited for her to shove off they would pick me up, which was what happened.”
Hugh Woolner, first-class passenger (Am. Inq., p. 887):
Then I said to Steffanson, “Let us go down on to A Deck.” And we went down again, but there was nobody there. I looked on both sides of the deck and saw no people. It was absolutely deserted, and the electric lights along the ceiling of A Deck were beginning to turn red, just a glow, a red sort of glow. So I said to Steffanson, “This is getting to be rather a tight corner; let us go out through the door at the end.” And as we went out the sea came in onto the deck at our feet. Then we hopped up onto the gunwale, preparing to jump into the sea, because if we had waited a minute longer we should have been boxed in against the ceiling. And as we looked out we saw this collapsible boat, the last boat on the port side, being lowered right in front of our faces.
Senator Smith: How far out?
Mr. Woolner: It was about nine feet out.
Senator Smith: Nine feet away from the side of A Deck?
Mr. Woolner: Yes.
Senator Smith: You saw a collapsible boat being lowered?
Mr. Woolner: Being lowered; yes.
Senator Smith: Was it filled with people?
Mr. Woolner: It was full up to the bow, and I said to Steffanson, “There is nobody in the bows. Let us make a jump for it. You go first.” And he jumped out and tumbled in head over heels into the boat, and I jumped too and hit the gunwale with my chest, which had on the life-preserver, of course, and I sort of tumbled off the gunwale and caught the gunwale with my fingers and slipped off backwards.
Senator Smith: Into the water?
Mr. Woolner: As my legs dropped down I felt that they were in the sea.
Senator Smith: You are quite sure you jumped nine feet to get that boat?
Mr. Woolner: That is my estimate. By that time you see we were jumping slightly downward.
Senator Smith: Did you jump out or down?
Mr. Woolner: Both.
Senator Smith: Both out and down?
Mr.
Woolner: Slightly down and out.
Senator Smith: It could not have been very far down if the water was on A Deck; it must have been out.
Mr. Woolner: Chiefly out; but it was sufficiently down for us to see just over the edge of the gunwale of the boat.
Senator Smith: You pulled yourself up out of the water?
Mr. Woolner: Yes; and then I hooked my right heel over the gunwale, and by this time Steffanson was standing up and he caught hold of me and lifted me in.
One lady (Mrs. Harris) had a broken elbow bone. She was in a white woolen jacket. At dawn Officer Lowe transferred five or six from his boat No. 14 to ours, which brought us down very close to the water. At daylight we saw a great many icebergs of different colors, as the sun struck them. Some looked white, some looked blue, some looked mauve and others were dark gray. There was one double-toothed one that looked to be of good size; it must have been about one hundred feet high.
The Carpathia seemed to come up slowly, and then she stopped. We looked out and saw there was a boat alongside and then we realized she was waiting for us to come up to her instead of her coming to us, as we hoped. Then Mr. Lowe towed us with his boat, No. 14, under sail. After taking a group of people off of boat “A”—a dozen of them—including one woman, we sailed to the Carpathia. There was a child in the boat—one of those little children whose parents everybody was looking for (the Navatil children).
The last of the Titanic’s boats which were never launched, but floated off, were the two Engelhardt collapsibles “A” and “B” on the roof of the officer’s house. In my personal account I have already given the story of boat “B”, the upset one on which Second Officer Lightoller, Jack Thayer, myself and others escaped. Since I wrote the account of my personal experience I have had access to other sources of information, including some already referred to; and though at the expense of some repetition, I think it may be of interest to include the record of this boat in the present chapter, as follows:
ENGELHARDT BOAT “B”
[The Upset Boat]
Passengers: A. H. Barkworth, Archibald Gracie, John B. Thayer, Jr., first cabin.
Crew: Second Officer Lightoller, Junior Marconi Operator Bride, Firemen: McGann, Senior; Chief Baker Joughin; Cooks: Collins, Maynard; Steward Whiteley, “J. Hagan.” Seaman J. McGough (possibly). Two men died on boat. Body of one transferred to No. 12 and finally to Carpathia. He was a fireman probably, but Cunard Co. preserved no record of him or his burial.
Incidents
C. H. Lightoller, Second Officer (Am. Inq., pp. 87, 91, 786):
I was on top of the officers’ quarters and there was nothing more to be done. The ship then took a dive and I turned face forward and also took a dive from on top, practically amidships a little to the starboard, where I had got to. I was driven back against the blower, which is a large thing that shape (indicating) which faces forward to the wind and which then goes down to the stoke hole; but there is a grating there and it was against this grating that I was sucked by the water, and held there under water. There was a terrific blast of air and water and I was blown out clear. I came up above the water, which barely threw me away at all, because I went down again against these fiddley gratings immediately abreast of the funnel over the stoke hole to which this fiddley leads. Colonel Gracie, I believe, was sucked down in identically the same manner on the fiddley gratings, caused by the water rushing down below as the ship was going down.
I next found myself alongside of that overturned boat. This was before the Titanic sank. The funnel then fell down and if there was anybody on that side of the Engelhardt boat it fell on them. The ship was not then submerged by considerable. The stern was completely out of the water. I have heard some controversy as to the boilers exploding owing to coming in contact with salt water, by men who are capable of giving an opinion, but there seems to be an open question as to whether cold water actually does cause boilers to explode.
I hardly had any opportunity to swim. It was the action of the funnel falling that threw us out a considerable distance away from the ship. We had no oars or other effective means for propelling the overturned boat. We had little bits of wood, but they were practically ineffective.
On our boat, as I have said before, were Colonel Gracie and young Thayer. I think they were the only two passengers. There were no women on our overturned boat. These were all taken out of the water and they were firemen and others of the crew—roughly about thirty. I take that from my own estimate and from the estimate of someone who was looking down from the bridge of the Carpathia.
And from the same officer’s testimony before the British Court as follows:
An order was given to cut the lashings of the other Engelhardt boats. It was then too late as the water was rushing up to the Boat Deck and there was not time to get them to the falls. He then went across to the officers’ quarters on the starboard side to see what he could do. Then the vessel seemed to take a bit of a dive. He swam off and cleared the ship. The water was so intensely cold that he first tried to get out of it into the crow’s nest, close at hand. Next he was pushed up against the blower on the forepart of the funnel, the water rushing down this blower, holding him against the grating for a while. Then there seemed to be a rush of air and he was blown away from the grating. He was dragged below the surface, but not for many moments. He came up near the Engelhardt boat “B” which was not launched, but had been thrown into the water. The forward funnel then fell down. Some little time after this he saw half a dozen men standing on the collapsible boat, and got on to it. The whole of the third funnel was still visible, the vessel gradually raising her stern out of the water. The ship did not break in two, and could not be broken in two. She actually attained the perpendicular before sinking. His impression was that no lights were then burning in the after part not submerged. It is true that the after part of the vessel settled level with the water. He watched the ship keenly all the time. After she reached an angle of 60 degrees there was a rumbling sound which he attributed to the boilers leaving their beds and crashing down. Finally she attained an absolute perpendicular position and then went slowly down. He heard no explosion whatever, but noticed about that time that the water became much warmer. There were about those on the Engelhardt boat “B,” several people struggling in the water who came on it. Nearly twenty-eight or thirty were taken off in the morning at daybreak. In this rescuing boat (No. 12), after the transfer, there were seventy-five. It was the last boat to the Carpathia. The next morning (Monday) he saw some icebergs from fifty to sixty to two hundred feet high, but the nearest was about ten miles away.
After the boats had left the side of the ship he heard orders given by the commander through the megaphone. He heard him say: “Bring that boat alongside.” Witness presumed allusion was made to bringing of boats to the gangway doors. Witness could not gather whether the orders were being obeyed. Said he had not been on the Engelhardt boat more than half an hour before a swell was distinctly visible. In the morning there was quite a breeze. It was when he was at No. 6 boat that he noticed the list. Though the ship struck on the starboard side, it was not an extraordinary thing that there should be a list to port. It does not necessarily follow that there should be a list to the side where the water was coming in.
Harold Bride, junior Marconi operator in his Report of April 27th to W. B. Cross, Traffic Manager, Marconi Co. (Am. Inq., p. 1053), says:
Just at this moment the captain said: “You cannot do any more; save yourselves.” Leaving the captain we climbed on top of the house comprising the officers’ quarters and our own. Here I saw the last of Mr. Phillips, for he disappeared, walking aft. I now assisted in pushing off the collapsible boat on to the Boat Deck. Just as the boat fell, I noticed Captain Smith dive from the bridge into the sea. Then followed a general scramble out on to the Boat Deck, but no sooner had we got there than the sea washed over. I managed to catch hold of the boat we had previously fixed
up and was swept overboard with her. I then experienced the most exciting three or four hours anyone can reasonably wish for, and was, in due course with the rest of the survivors, picked up by the Carpathia. As you probably heard, I got on the collapsible boat the second time, which was, as I had left it, upturned. I called Phillips but got no response. I learned later from several sources that he was on this boat and expired even before we were picked up by the Titanic’s lifeboat (No. 12). I am told that fright and exposure were the causes of his death. So far as I can find out, he was taken on board the Carpathia and buried at sea from her, though for some reason the bodies of those who died were not identified before burial from the Carpathia, and so I cannot vouch for the truth of this.
He also gave testimony before the American Inquiry (pp. 110, 161):
This boat was over the officers’ cabin at the side of the forward funnel. It was pushed over on to the Boat Deck. It went over the starboard side and I went over with it. It was washed off and over the side of the ship by a wave into the water bottom side upward. I was inside the boat and under it, as it fell bottom side upward. I could not tell how long. It seemed a lifetime to me really. I got on top of the boat eventually. There was a big crowd on top when I got on. I should say that I remained under the boat three-quarters of an hour, or a half hour. I then got away from it as quickly as I could. I freed myself from it and cleared out of it but I do not know why, but swam back to it about three-quarters of an hour to an hour afterwards. I was upside down myself—I mean I was on my back.
