by Diane Hoh
Elizabeth wondered if Max and her father were still at the rail watching the descent. When she looked up, her vision was clouded, as if she were looking through a thick, black veil, and she realized her eyes were filled with tears. Because she didn’t want to do this. Not only did she not want to leave Max and her father, she was frozen with fear at having to leave the safety and security of the huge Titanic to venture out into the vast unknown, even if, as the second officer had said, it would only be for a short while.
She wished she could believe him.
Her hands were trembling, and not from cold.
When they came even with B deck, the quartermaster suddenly cried up to Lightoller, “I can’t manage this boat with only one seaman!”
The boat stopped its descent.
Maybe they’ll pull us back up, Elizabeth thought in her distress, and we can climb out of the boat and back onto the ship and wait with Father and Max for the rescue ship, as I wanted to do all along.
But they weren’t pulled back up. They hung instead, suspended alongside the Titanic, while the second officer above tried to decide the best way to respond to the quartermaster’s complaint.
“Even if there’s another crew member up there,” a woman whose voice seemed remarkably calm said aloud to no one in particular, “we’re two decks down. How’s he going to get down here? Can’t jump, it’s too far. Break his neck, he would. Not something I care to see.”
But Elizabeth’s mother said nervously, “If the quartermaster thinks we need more men, we should have more men. We don’t want to get out on that open sea and be unable to handle this boat.”
Elizabeth heard a noise above them. When she looked up, she saw to her astonishment a man who looked to be older than her father swing hand over hand out onto the davit and begin climbing down the ropes toward them.
Her mother gasped, Molly Brown uttered an oath under her breath, and the first woman who had spoken added, “Lost his mind, he has. Going to fall, for sure.”
But he didn’t fall.
When the man landed in the boat, the quartermaster ordered him to put the boat’s plug in place. The new arrival, a nice-looking older man with a neatly trimmed beard, who said his name was Major Peuchen, was unable to find the plug in the dark. Giving up, he went back to where Hichens was sitting. They spoke for a moment, and Elizabeth saw the senior officer pick something up and insert it into the boat. When the plug was in place, the quartermaster returned to the stern. He took his place, then declared to the major that he was in charge of the boat and would give the orders.
Elizabeth thought it very rude of him. But with no argument, Major Peuchen sat down beside the lookout named Fleet. When the boat hit the flat, calm water, both men began rowing.
The cold was unbearable from the moment they hit the sea. Elizabeth’s toes felt frozen though she was wearing warm boots. There were women in the boat who had only evening slippers on their feet, and one woman had no shoes at all, only hose.
Her mother, though warmly dressed, was shivering uncontrollably. Elizabeth put an arm around her. As the boat began pulling away from the Titanic, she said quietly, “Mother, we’ll be all right. That steamer out there will pick us up, and then Father and Max will meet us later. Really, we’re going to be fine.” Her father had said she must take care of her mother, and so that was what she would do. Even if she didn’t really believe the things she was saying.
Her mother’s face, bone-white under the wide-brimmed black hat, turned toward her. “Well, yes, of course, dear. We shall see your father shortly. And I must admit, I misjudged Enid’s son. I had no idea it was in him to be a hero. That was a very brave act, hoisting those two children into the lifeboat. I really must tell Enid what a chance he took.” There was no emotion in her voice. It was as if someone had written lines for her and she was reciting them. But then, she was a Langston, and Langstons did not show emotion in public. It just wasn’t done. And it seemed totally in character for Nola to then add, “I do hope that Brown woman minds her manners. It’s unpleasant enough in this horrid boat without listening to her vulgarities.” Then she sounded more like herself.
Elizabeth stifled hysterical laughter. Only her mother would insist that people mind their manners under these conditions.
She silently counted the number of people in the boat. Twenty-eight, including the crew. Bitterness surged through her. There was so much room. Fifty or sixty people could fit in this boat! Yet her father and Max were still on board the sinking ship. It seemed criminal to her, and she failed to see the reasoning behind it. Why shouldn’t the men have come along if the boat was going to leave only half full? To leave them on a sinking ship was indeed a crime of the worst sort.
And from where they were sitting on the water, well away from the Titanic, it was now painfully clear that the ship was indeed sinking. Its lights still glowing brightly, it sat at a slight but obvious tilt, its bow down, its stern raised, while rockets continued to shower it with white-hot stars from eight hundred feet above its decks. As more and more passengers in the lifeboat lifted their heads to take a good look, and understood, there were smothered sobs, open weeping, and gasps of horror.
Elizabeth forced herself to think calmly for a moment, wondering if the approaching steamer, its own lights wavering faintly in the distance, had a view of the ailing Titanic yet and could see what was taking place. Probably not. Its own outline was not yet visible, only the pale glow of its lights.
Shouldn’t it be in sight by now? Max had said that Captain Smith would have sent it a distress message. How slow it must be traveling to have made so little progress by this time. Hadn’t the message made the urgency of their situation clear to the ship’s captain? Why wasn’t he rushing toward them?
Panic rose within her again. If it really was a ship, it had to hurry. It had to! There couldn’t be much time left for those still aboard the Titanic. Her heart was breaking for her father and Max, and for all the others who were still standing at the rails. What must they be thinking and feeling? They had to be filled with terror as the lifeboats continued to pull away. Or could they still not believe this nightmare was actually taking place?
Remembering what Max had told her, Elizabeth waited for Hichens to announce that if it came to that, they would be returning to the Titanic to pick up survivors. Then she would hope with everything in her that Max and her father would be among them.
On the aft well deck, Katie was using all of her powers of persuasion to move people out of that area and up to the boat deck. Though her da had once told her with a twinkle in his eye, “Katie-girl, you could talk the stars right down out of the sky if you’d a mind to,” she wasn’t having much luck. Women refused to leave their husbands. Their husbands refused to leave the aft well deck, insisting there was no serious problem. Even if they’d been willing, by the time Katie and Paddy returned to that area, crewmen had locked the gates again and were allowing only women and children above decks.
Some of the passengers had moved to the smoking room aft of the well deck. Katie could hear the piano being played and wondered if people were actually dancing. Did they really not know what was happening, or were they just playacting, pretending this was any other night on the sea to hide their fears?
At the gate, Brian was arguing with the crewmen. She thought he was probably asking that families be allowed to leave intact, but she could see one of the crewmen shaking his head no. She could almost hear him saying, “No men, and that’s final.”
“Can you not see,” she pleaded with the mother of six young children, “that the ship has a noticeable list to it now? Think of the children! You must be savin’ them!”
The woman’s lips tightened. Her English was not good, but she understood what Katie was saying. “Karl come, too,” she said firmly, referring to her husband, a tall, blond-haired man standing behind her talking to another man.
“The men will come later, in other boats,” Katie argued. “But you and the children must go now.” She was
so cold, her voice trembled. She pointed to the crewmen standing at the gate letting only women and children through. “There, you must go there. Someone will direct you to the boats.”
The woman didn’t budge. Pulling her black shawl tighter around her shoulders, she announced stubbornly, “Karl don’t go, I don’t go.”
In frustration, Katie glanced around for Paddy. He might be able to do what she couldn’t. But she didn’t see him. Below decks he was, making certain there were no stragglers left behind. Then she scanned the crowd for Father Byles, who had been circulating among them earlier. Perhaps the priest could convince this woman that her children must be saved.
She didn’t see Father Byles, either.
Giving up, Katie moved across the well deck to another family, hoping she would have better luck this time.
Chapter 27
Monday, April 15, 1912
Rockets continued to light up the sky as Quartermaster Hichens directed lifeboat number six away from the Titanic. The sudden incandescence, brief though it was, warmed the dark sky with dozens of tiny silver lanterns. Someone in the boat remarked in a robotlike voice that they were “pretty,” which struck Elizabeth as odd until she realized that the woman was in shock and not thinking clearly.
They seemed to be making little progress in rowing away from the ship. Elizabeth was glad. She didn’t want to leave the ship. The closer they stayed, the safer she would feel. Max and her father would not seem so far away. But there was something else, too, something she thought about in spite of her barely controlled terror. Addressing her mother, she said, “I think we should stay right where we are. We have plenty of room to take on more passengers. We must stay close by in case we’re needed.” She meant in case the ship actually sank, but she didn’t want to say that aloud. She sensed that the reason no one in the boat was visibly hysterical or screaming in fear was a belief that either the ship wouldn’t sink, or rescue ships would come along at any moment to save those still on board. She also doubted that any of the other women realized there were not enough lifeboats on board the Titanic. If they did, they would surely lose control completely instead of simply weeping quietly for those they’d left behind.
She was not about to tell them about the lifeboat shortage. And she was very grateful that her mother didn’t know.
Nola, who had been silent since her remark about Mrs. Molly Brown, made no response to Elizabeth’s comment about staying close by. She sat slumped on the seat, staring silently and intently at the sinking ship, as if her eyes were still fastened on her husband’s face. It was as if she had no interest in anything that might take place on the lifeboat. She seemed lifeless.
The shrill sound of a whistle fought with the explosion of the latest rocket. The whistle, a longer, thinner sound, won. Quartermaster Hichens ordered Lookout Fleet and Major Peuchen to stop rowing, so he could hear. They stopped, and he listened.
Elizabeth heard a voice that sounded like Captain Smith’s shout, “Come alongside!”
“What does he want?” one of the women asked another. “They told us to row toward the lights of the rescue ship, and now they’re telling us to come back?”
A second, terror-stricken voice cried, “No, no, it’s not safe! We can’t go back!”
Elizabeth could see the quartermaster debating. He was supposed to obey the captain’s orders, but he clearly didn’t want to. She wasn’t sure why. Shouldn’t he at least find out what Captain Smith wanted?
She wouldn’t have minded returning to the Titanic. Maybe they’d be allowed back on. To see Max and her father…to be on board again, where they could all take refuge in the warm, brightly lit gymnasium or the lounge, to be out of this dark and lonely cold, would that be so bad? Still, the ship was listing more noticeably now toward the bow. Her heart sank again, realizing that it wasn’t likely anyone would be allowed back on board.
Hichens shook his head. “Pull away,” he said defiantly, motioning to the two men to begin rowing again. “We are not going back. It is our lives now, not theirs.”
But they weren’t making much progress with only two men rowing. Apparently impatient with this state of affairs, Mrs. Brown suddenly hoisted an oar, slipped it into an oarlock, then asked one of the women to hold a second oar while it was placed into a lock on the other side. The woman assisted without complaint. The two began rowing in tandem. Other women also took up oars, and soon boat number six was able to pull away from the Titanic. Elizabeth would have liked to help, but she was worried about her mother. She seemed completely withdrawn. Elizabeth suspected that Nola had finally realized that nothing in their lives would ever be the same again, and she wondered if her mother might be in shock. Perhaps she needed a doctor. But there were none on board.
As the women rowed, they were subjected to a dismaying outburst from Quartermaster Hichens about the dangers of the Titanic’s suction, when it sank, pulling their lifeboat down with it. “When it goes down,” he added, “the boilers will explode. It’ll take everything down with it for miles around.”
The thought terrified Elizabeth. She could see that it shocked the other women in the boat. None had yet accepted that the Titanic was actually sinking, and Hichens mentioning it as fact startled them.
As for Elizabeth, she was truly agonizing over their desertion of the ship. If there really were not enough lifeboats on board, what would happen to the people still awaiting rescue? If the steamer, whose lights still seemed as far away as they had from the rail of the Titanic, didn’t arrive fast enough, scores of people would be spilled into the icy water when the ship plunged into the sea. There should be lifeboats standing by to pluck those victims from the dark sea.
But Hichens was immovable. Whenever Elizabeth said aloud that they should remain close to the ship in case they were needed, he repeated his warning about being dragged down along with the Titanic when it went.
And although several women, most notably Mrs. Molly Brown, argued with him, he remained immovable.
On the boat deck, Max shared Elizabeth’s thoughts. Hands in his coat pockets, he watched as one lifeboat after another withdrew from the vicinity of the ship, and he remembered his confident words to Elizabeth as to why they weren’t full. “To pick up survivors,” he had said, as if he knew what he was talking about. She had believed him. Judging from the distance most of the boats were creating between themselves and the Titanic, their crew-men had no intention of picking up anyone. Captain Smith periodically called out to them through a megaphone, ordering the boats that weren’t full to return, but no one so far had responded.
Black, cloying fear overtook Max, catching him off guard and taking his breath away.
“Afraid they’ll swamp,” Martin Farr, standing beside Max, said. “Can’t say that I blame them.”
Max swallowed the thick, overwhelming fear to say staunchly, “You’d return, sir. If you were in one of those boats, like Major Peuchen, you’d come back to pick up survivors.”
Elizabeth’s father didn’t even turn his head. “Now, how could you possibly know that?”
“I know it from everything Elizabeth told me about you. It didn’t sound to me like you were someone who’d save his own neck while other people were drowning, sir. And I know I’m right because you didn’t get in a boat when you could have. No one would have stopped you, not in the beginning. The boats weren’t full, and other men were leaving the ship.”
Puffing on his pipe, Mr. Farr replied, “I might say the same for you, Whittaker. I thought all young people were only concerned with saving their own necks. Yet you saved those two children, at great risk to yourself, I might add. I owe you an apology.”
“No need, sir.” The last of the boats had descended from the starboard side. There had been some frightening moments when it had looked as if boat thirteen was about to land on top of fifteen, but quick thinking had solved that problem with no injury to anyone. Both boats were now on their way.
A terrible, aching sense of isolation descended upon Max. Th
e Titanic, once a safe, secure, floating hotel, had become a floating death trap. Max knew it as surely as he knew that out on the flat, black sea, Elizabeth was terror-stricken…for him. He wished he could reassure her that he would be okay. Impossible to do when he couldn’t even tell himself that and believe it.
“No point in waiting out here,” he told Martin Farr. “Why don’t we go inside where it’s warm? I noticed a few people playing cards in the lounge. We might be more comfortable in there.” He knew that Elizabeth couldn’t possibly still see them standing on deck. Her boat was too far away, though it had gone slowly, as if dragging an anchor. But he could see which boat was hers, could picture her sitting in it, frightened and shivering with cold. He didn’t think he could bear to watch for another minute. And he didn’t think it was good for Elizabeth’s father to keep watch, either.
“Good idea. Lead the way.”
They passed the bandsmen, standing at the entrance to the first-class staircase, on the way. Wearing life jackets over their tuxedos, they had switched from ragtime to quieter strains. A waltz, Max thought, and felt a deep pang of disappointment. It was as if the musicians, like some of the people still on board, had finally lost hope.
As had most of the passengers. Max could tell by the anxious faces, the frightened eyes even in the faces of men he knew to be brave, by the resignation apparent in the way men leaned against the rail, sharply tilted now.
There were a few people who clung stubbornly to denial. As Max and Mr. Farr passed a group of people standing just inside the lounge, a woman complained, “Did you hear Thomas Andrews shouting at the women to get into the two remaining port-side boats? It was positively embarrassing. You’d think the builder of this ship would have more dignity than to be yelling at women in such a common manner. As far as I’m concerned, if we’re going to be back on board the ship by breakfast, as one of the crewmen told me, it is just plain silly to go out on the open sea in such bitterly cold weather. Don’t you agree, Mattie?”
