by Nic Compton
We came back upstairs and found very few people up. There was very little confusion; only the older women were a little frightened. They were up, partially dressed. So I sent a number of them back and saw that they were thoroughly dressed before they came up again. Then we went up on to the boat deck on the starboard side. We looked around, and there were so very few people up there that my husband and I went to the port side to see if there was anyone there. There were only two people, a young French bride and groom, on that side of the boat, and they followed us immediately to the starboard side. By that time an old man had come upstairs and found Mr and Mrs Harder, of New York. He brought us all together and told us to be sure and stay together; that he would be back in a moment. We never saw him again. About five minutes later the boats were lowered, and we were pushed in. At the time our lifeboat was lowered I had no idea that it was time to get off.
We thought of nothing at all except the luxury of the ship, and how wonderful it was.
George Harder – First Class Passenger
When we came out of our stateroom and took our lifebelts and coats, I noticed about four or five men on this E deck. One of them had one of those T-handled wrenches, used to turn some kind of a nut or bolt, and two or three of the other men had wrenches with them. I did not take any particular notice, but I did notice this one man trying to turn this thing in the floor. There was a circular brass plate about ten inches or a foot wide; it was marked ‘WTC’ or ‘WTD’ or something like that. A few days before, I noticed that brass plate and, naturally, seeing the initials ‘WT’ I thought it meant watertight doors, or compartments. It was between the stairs and the elevators on the starboard side of the boat.
We heard one of these men with the wrenches say: ‘Well, it’s no use. This one won’t work. Let’s try another one.’ They did not seem to be nervous at all; so I thought at the time there was no danger; that they were just doing that for the sake of precaution.
Norman Chambers – First Class Passenger
I was rather surprised at the time when she struck to hear no particular orders or signals for closing the watertight doors. While I did not make a careful examination of the mechanism of the doors, I, at the same time, had looked them over rather more than casually, on my way to and from the swimming pool in the mornings. I remember being somewhat surprised that these doors were not nowadays operated by electricity, this being only a landsman’s point of view.
The cover plates to the mechanism of the watertight doors, as far as I am able to state, were not removed before our final departure for the upper decks. I saw no attempt being made to remove them. I have no reason to believe that any attempt was made by the stewards, on whom I have always understood this duty devolved, to close these doors, particularly as a large percentage of the steward part of the crew were new. Seeing these door plates undisturbed just before our final departure to the upper decks, I reached the conclusion that the doors had not been closed.
Charles Lightoller – Second Officer
I am given to understand from passengers that every discipline was shown amongst the stewards. They all went to their watertight doors and closed them.
Herbert Pitman – Third Officer
The electric watertight doors are operated from the bridge by a lever close to the wheel. There is a lever seven or eight inches long on the bridge, close to the man at the wheel. All you have to do is to just pull it over, and they come right down. There is an electrical bell beside them, which you ring a few minutes before closing, so as to give anyone who might be standing underneath a chance to get out of the way.
Of course, they are not all operated by electricity. It is only those in the bottom of the ship that are operated from the bridge. The others are operated by hand, using a handle and a spindle, which are kept in a rack close alongside. It was our business to see that all the gear was there. The watertight doors worked all right, because I have seen them working at Belfast before we sailed.
Anyhow, the watertight doors were of very little assistance this time, because the ice had ripped the side of the ship out.
‘The word came down, “Pass your women up on the boat deck”’
Charles Joughin – Chief Baker
‘Provision boats,’ or put any spare provisions you have in the boats, that was the order. Any surplus stuff we had around that was handy we would put into the boats. I sent 13 men up with four loaves apiece, 40 pounds of bread each as near as I could guess. That about a quarter past 12.
After I had passed the first lot of bread up, I went down to my room for a drink, and as I was coming back I followed up my men on to the deck. I saw the interpreter passing the people along towards the boats, but there was a difficulty in getting them along because some of the foreign Third Class passengers were bringing their baggage and their children along.
James Johnson – First Saloon Night Watchman
I called all our boys. I told them I thought it was a bit serious. Some of them did come up and some did not, till Mr Dodd came, and he chased everyone out of every glory hole. That is where we all live; it is called ‘glory hole’ in all ships. We told everyone to get their life-preservers and go to their boats. The bedroom stewards were all told to go to every room and put life-preservers on the passengers and get them out of their cabins. There must have been I think something like 470 stewards altogether. I saw them all bunched together. Everyone was bunched together at first; but after that I only saw one, and he saved himself.
They were told to go to the boats, but they did not think the ship would go down, and they were laughing when the passengers were carrying their baggage about. I am certain if you had got our boys up to the boat stations, they would have been saved. But you could not drive the women – because I tried it, for our boat. I saw the bedroom stewards driving, and I saw Mr Ismay try to drive a few. He had a pair of slippers on and his dust coat, and he was trying to get the women into our boat, and they would not go in for him.
I trampled over a loaf of bread, a big pan loaf. There were biscuits carried up, but nobody seemed to care to put them in. Billy Williams had one box, and there might have been four or five boxes carried up through the companionway. They were shoving each other on, bringing the stores up.
I had no lifebelt then, so I went down for it after. I thought I might have made a mistake in the boat station list, and I went to look at it again. I said, ‘I will have a sky again.’ I had seen it on Thursday afternoon in the pantry on the port side, right opposite the chief steward’s office. It was there from Thursday afternoon. I did see it because I went and looked for my name, and I knew where my boat was. But I went again to make sure I had not made a mistake.
John Hart – Third Class Steward
The chief Third Class steward was there, and he said, ‘Get your people roused up and get lifebelts placed upon them; see that they have lifebelts on them.’ The majority had retired. I went to each Third Class room and roused them. I saw the lifebelts placed on them that were willing to have them put on them. Some refused to put them on. They said they saw no occasion for putting them on; they did not believe the ship was hurt in any way.
Right from the very first we were trying to convince the people that she was not hurt. It was not on my own authority at all. The other Third Class steward told me to get my people about as quietly as possible. It was my instructions to do so – in order to keep them quiet; it is quite obvious.
After some little while the word came down, ‘Pass your women up on the boat deck.’ Those that were willing to go to the boat deck were shown the way. Some were not willing to go to the boat deck, and stayed behind. Some of them went to the boat deck, and found it rather cold, and saw the boats being lowered away, and thought themselves more secure on the ship, and consequently returned to their cabin. I heard two or three say they preferred to remain on the ship than be tossed about on the water like a cockleshell.
I took them up into the after well to the C deck, to the First Class main companion, up to th
e boat deck. There were barriers that at ordinary times are closed, but they were open. I met several crew on the deck directing them the way to the boat deck. There was one man at the foot of the companion leading from the sleeping accommodation to the after well deck; there was one man at the end of the companion leading from the well deck to the E deck, and there were others along the saloon and second cabin deck showing them the way to the boat deck. So that there was no difficulty for anybody who wanted to get to the boats to find their way there.
There were some that would not come to the deck. They would not leave their apartments; they would not be convinced. Everybody did their best.
Henry Stengel – First Class Passenger
My judgement about the officers is that, when they were loading, they were cool. They showed very good judgement. They calmed the passengers by making them believe it was not a serious accident. I heard that explained afterwards by an officer of the ship, when he said, ‘Suppose we had reported the damage that was done to that vessel; there would not be one of you aboard. The stokers would have come up and taken every boat, and no one would have had a chance of getting aboard of those boats.’
Archibald Gracie – First Class Passenger
The sound was so slight I could not be positive of it. All through the voyage the machinery did not manifest itself at all from my position in my stateroom, so perfect was the boat. I looked out of the door of my stateroom, glanced up and down the passageway to see if there was any commotion, and I did not see anybody nor hear anybody moving at all; but I did not like the sound of it, so I thought I would partially dress myself, which I did, and went on deck.
I went on what they call the A deck. Presently some passengers gathered around. We looked over the sides of the ship to see whether there was any indication of what had caused this noise. I soon learned from friends around that an iceberg had struck us.
Presently along came a gentleman who had ice in his hands. Some of this ice was handed to us with the statement that we had better take this home for souvenirs. Nobody had any fear at that time at all. I looked on deck outside to see if there was any indication of a list. I could not distinguish any. At that time I joined my friend, Mr Clint Smith, and he and I in the cabin did notice a list, but thought it best not to say anything about it for fear of creating some commotion. Then we agreed to stick by each other through thick and thin if anything occurred, and to meet later on. He went to his cabin and I went to mine. In my cabin I packed my three bags very hurriedly. I thought if we were going to be removed to some other ship it would be easy for the steward to get my luggage out.
As I went up on deck the next time, I saw Mr Ismay with one of the officers. He looked very self-contained, as though he was not fearful of anything, and that gave encouragement to my thought that perhaps the disaster was not anything particularly serious.
Presently I noticed that women and men had life-preservers on, and under protest, as I thought it was rather previous, my steward put a life-preserver around myself and I went up on deck, on the A deck. Here I saw a number of people, among others some ladies whom I had told when I first came on the ship at Southampton that I hoped they would let me do anything I could for them during the voyage. These ladies were Mrs E.D. Appleton, Mrs Cornell, and Mrs Browne, the publisher’s wife, of Boston, and Miss Evans. They were somewhat disturbed, of course. I reassured them and pointed out to them the lights of what I thought was a ship or steamer in the distance.
Mr Astor came up and he leaned over the side of the deck, which was an enclosed deck, and there were windows and the glass could be let down. I pointed toward the bow, and there were distinctly seen these lights – or a light, rather one single light. It did not seem to be a star, and that is what we all thought it was, the light of some steamer.
I could not judge how far away, only by what they told me. I should say it could not have been more than six miles away. Ahead toward the bow, because I had to lean over, and here was this lifeboat down by the side at that time, and I pointed right ahead and showed Mr Astor so he could see, and he had to lean away over.
Arthur Peuchen – First Class Passenger
I had only reached my room and was starting to undress when I felt as though a heavy wave had struck our ship. She quivered under it somewhat. If there had been a sea running I would simply have thought it was an unusual wave which had struck the boat; but knowing that it was a calm night and that it was an unusual thing to occur on a calm night, I immediately put my overcoat on and went up on deck. As I started to go through the grand stairway I met a friend, who said, ‘Why, we have struck an iceberg.’
I cannot remember his name. He was simply a casual acquaintance I had met. He said, ‘If you will go up on the upper deck, you will see the ice on the fore part of the ship.’ So I did so. I went up there. I suppose the ice had fallen inside the rail, probably four to four and a half feet. It looked like shell ice, soft ice. But you could see it quite plainly along the bow of the boat. I stood on deck for a few minutes, talking to other friends, and then I went to see my friend, Mr Hugo Ross, to tell him that it was not serious; that we had only struck an iceberg. I suppose fifteen minutes after that I met Mr Hays, his son-in-law, and I said to him, ‘Mr Hays, have you seen the ice?’ He said, ‘No.’ I said, ‘If you care to see it I will take you up on the deck and show it to you.’ So we proceeded from probably C deck to A deck and along forward, and I showed Mr Hays the ice forward.
I know a great many of the passengers were made afraid by this iceberg passing their portholes. The ship shoved past this ice, and a great many of them told me afterwards they could not understand this thing moving past them – those that were awakened at the time. In fact, it left ice on some of the portholes, they told me.
I happened to look and noticed the boat was listing, probably half an hour after my first visit to the upper deck. I said to Mr Hays, ‘Why, she is listing; she should not do that, the water is perfectly calm, and the boat has stopped.’ I felt that looked rather serious. He said, ‘Oh, I don’t know; you cannot sink this boat.’ He had a good deal of confidence. He said, ‘No matter what we have struck, she is good for eight or ten hours.’
I hardly got back in the grand staircase – I probably waited around there ten minutes more – when I saw the ladies and gentlemen all coming in off of the deck looking very serious, and I caught up to Mr Beatty, and I said, ‘What is the matter?’ He said, ‘Why, the order is for lifebelts and boats.’ I could not believe it at first, it seemed so sudden. I said, ‘Will you tell Mr Ross?’ He said, ‘Yes; I will go and see Mr Ross.’ I then went to my cabin and changed as quickly as I could from evening dress to heavy clothes. As soon as I got my overcoat on I got my life-preserver and I came out of my cabin.
In the hallway I met a great many people, ladies and gentlemen, with their lifebelts on, and the ladies were crying, principally, most of them. It was a very serious sight, and I commenced to realise how serious matters were.
There was no alarm sounded whatever. In fact, I talked with two young ladies who said their stateroom was right near the Astors’, I think almost next to it, and they were not awakened. They slept through this crash, and they were awakened by Mrs Astor. She was in rather an excited state, and their door being open, they think that was the reason they were alerted.
Charles Lightoller – Second Officer
After dressing, I went on deck. At this time the steam was roaring off, and it was very difficult to hear. I met the chief officer almost immediately after coming out of the door of the quarters. First of all he told me to commence to get the covers off the boats. I asked him then if all hands had been called, and he said, ‘Yes.’
None of the covers had been stripped, with the exception of the emergency boats. I began on the port side with the port forward boat, that would be No 4, and commenced it stripping off. Then two or three men turned up. I told them offo to No 4 boat and stood off then myself and directed the men as they came up on deck, passing around the boat deck
, round the various boats, and seeing that the men were evenly distributed around both the port and starboard.
I did not think it advisable, taking into consideration the row going on with the steam, to make any inquiries about their stations. I could only direct them by motions of the hand. They could not hear what I said.
About the time I had finished seeing the men distributed round the deck, and the boat covers well under way and everything going smoothly, I then enquired of the chief officer whether we should carry on and swing out. Mr Wilde said ‘No’ or ‘Wait’, something to that effect, and meeting the commander, I asked him, and he said, ‘Yes, swing out.’
From the time we commenced to strip No 4 boat cover until the time when we swung them out, I should judge would be probably at most fifteen or twenty minutes.
Hugh Woolner – First Class Passenger
People were guessing what it might be, and one man called out, ‘An iceberg has passed astern,’ but who it was I do not know. I then went to look for Mrs Candee, because she was the lady in whom I was most interested, and I met her outside her stateroom. I said: ‘Some accident has happened, but I do not think it is anything serious. Let us go for a walk.’ We walked the afterdeck for quite a considerable time. As we passed one of the entrances to the corridor, I saw people coming up with lifebelts; so I went inside and asked the steward, ‘Is this orders?’ and he said, ‘Orders.’
