This Week in History: Titanic

his week in history...

The RMS Titanic sank, on 14 April 1912.

Our last writers' houseparty, back in January, was set on the Titanic.

I ended up with over 25,000 words at this party (not my highest houseparty word count ever!). This was the first time since maybe the first handful of houseparties that I didn't bring characters from a WiP, or a novel I was editing, or with specific story and character questions I needed answers to.

I brought Brother Arcturus, Austin, and Kedi.

Austin and Kedi have attended every houseparty ever held. Austin started off as a YA character, and as he grew, was the only one of my characters not involved in a romance.

That all changed at the writers' houseparty set in San Francisco in 1865, when he met Barb, a character of another author. They were 15 at the time. Austin kept her in his thoughts, but was unable to act on his feelings at the Grand Finale writers' houseparty, at 20, because she was married.

He arrived on the Titanic at the age of 28, and she is now divorced...

Except that Austin, because he also time travels with Kedi in his "regular" life, remembers everything. And Barb does not. Now he has to find a way to meet her back in 1978...


As for the Titanic itself, I'd seen the movie once, a few years ago when I found out Welsh actor Ioan Gruffudd was in it (he played Officer Lowe, which is why I namedropped him in Austin and Barb's near-final scene (see below), even though Lowe commanded a boat that was lashed to the boat that picked up Lightoller's men, and not the responding boat itself).

The week before the houseparty, I watched both Titanic and A Night To Remember, and they gave me a couple of good lines and a visual sense of things, but better by far was everyone's work in the research thread. I went back to that thread multiple times per day!

Here is the timeline I created as part of my contribution to the research thread:


RMS Titanic: Route of the Journey


Wednesday, 10 April
Southampton, England
12pm (noon): Titanic's voyage begins; tugs pull her out of her berth
c.12.05pm: Titanic passes two smaller moored ships; her displacement causes them to be lifted by a bulge of water then drop into a trough. One ship's mooring cables can't take the sudden strain and snap, swinging her around sternfirst towards Titanic. A tugboat takes the smaller ship under tow; a collision is avoided by a few feet
c.1pm: Titanic departs, sailing through tides and channels of Southampton Water and the Solent, disembarking Southampton pilot at Nab Lightship, and heading out into English Channel; journey of 77 nautical miles/89 miles/143 km
c.5pm: Titanic calls at Cherbourg, France; some passengers disembark and some board, by tender
c.8pm: Titanic weighs anchor and leaves for Queenstown (now Cobh), Ireland

Thursday, 11 April
11.30am: Titanic arrives at County Cork Harbour; dock facilities not suited for her size; tenders again used to bring passengers (and mail) aboard
1.30pm: Titanic departs westward across Atlantic, following Irish coast as far as Fastnet Rock, a distance of c.55 nautical miles/63 miles/102 km. Then she steams at full speed, travelling 1,620 nautical miles/1,860 miles/3,000 km along a Great Circle route across the North Atlantic, "the corner", southeast of Newfoundland, where westbound steamers carry out a change of course
Note: Newfoundland not yet part of Canada

Friday, 12 April
local apparent noon: Titanic has covered 484 nautical miles/557 miles/896 km; averages c.21 knots/24 mph/39 km/h throughout her entire journey

Saturday, 13 April
12pm: Titanic has covered 519 nautical miles/597 miles/961 km

Sunday, 14 April
12pm: Titanic has covered 546 nautical miles/628 miles/1,011 km. Six ice-related warnings received:
9am, from RMS Caronia
1.43pm, from RMS Baltic, relayed from Greek ship Athenia. Captain orders new course to be set, to take Titanic farther south
1.45pm, from German ship SS Amerika (not relayed to Captain)
7.30pm, from SS Californian
9.40pm, from Mesaba (not relayed to Captain)
c.10.30pm, from Californian, that they're halted for the night and surrounded by ice field
Titanic continues to steam at 22 knots/25 mph/41 km/h; 2 knots/2.3 mph/3.7 km/h short of maximum speed of 24 knots/28 mph/44 km/hr

c.11.40pm (ship's time): iceberg spotted by lookout; First Officer orders Titanic steered around and all engines stopped; bow faces North; Titanic has covered 258 nautical miles/297 miles/478 km and is drifting southward in Labrador Current
c.11.45pm: Titanic has sailed a few hours past "the corner" on rhumb line leg of 1,023 nautical miles/1,177 miles/1,895 km to Nantucket Shoals Light and is c.375 miles/600 km south of Newfoundland, with c.1,500 miles of ocean behind her. Latitude 41° 46′ N, Longitude 50° 14′ W. Titanic hits iceberg on starboard side
11.50pm: water that poured in has risen to 14ft in front part of ship

Monday, 15 April
c.12am: Captain orders lifeboats uncovered and passengers mustered; wireless messages sent for help
c.12.15am: first passengers guided to lifeboats
12.25am: Carpathia, southeast of Titanic by c.58 miles, picks up distress call and begins sailing to rescue
c.12.45am: first lifeboat, No. 7, lowered; first distress rocket fired; eight rockets fired the whole night
c.2.10am: last lifeboat, Collapsible D, lowered; lights go out; second and third funnels break away
2.17am: last radio message sent
2.20am: Titanic begins to sink (founder)
3.30am: Carpathia’s rockets spotted
4am: Carpathia picks up first lifeboat
8.50am: Carpathia leaves, carrying 705 survivors

Thursday, 18 April
9pm: Carpathia arrives at New York

Titanic planned to arrive at New York, Pier 59, on morning of 17 April; final leg of journey would have been 193 nautical miles/222 miles/357 km to Ambrose Light and, finally, New York Harbour


Rereading all the stories of near misses and heroic actions always got me teary. Such a tragedy. But I understand now why it has fired imaginations for over a century.

Here, then, are some of my scenes from the houseparty (edited a tiny bit for clarity since I'm posting out of context). I'm trying to keep up with the April writing exercise as part of my ROW80 goals, but not getting much else done at the moment besides work and school!

Austin, Kedi, and Brother Arcturus at the Grand Staircase, 12 April
"And what year is this?"

"Excuse me?" asked a voice behind him.

He turned to see a couple in old-fashioned dress, Edwardian possibly, peering at him as if he was a spectre or an oddity on a stage. His bright blue suit with its wide lapels looked nothing like the crisply tailored jacket of the man before him. Never mind that he had no hat or walking stick or any of the other accoutrements the stranger sported.

"Er, what time is dinner?" he asked, for lack of anything better to say.

"Dinner is nearly over, sir," Mr Edwardian said crisply. "In the first class restaurant, that is. I would not know about the others."

"Quite," he replied, in the crispest posh accent he could manage. "Thank you."

"There is always tea available in the cafe," the lady piped up. "Or so we were advised. It's such an impressive ship; we have not yet had time to explore half of it since our departure."

"Oh yes," the man agreed. "They did boast of it, and they were right: the Titanic is absolutely the last word in ships. I shall not journey on any other ship after this, I can tell you."

"You -- you'll not journey -- the Titanic -- the --" He gulped. "If you'll excuse me, sir, madam. There's someone I must find urgently."

He gave a half bow and didn't wait for it to be returned before he scurried off to the end of the corridor.

Kedi was waiting for him at the head of the Grand Staircase. There was no mistaking it. He'd seen it for the first time at the age of eight, in A Night to Remember. How many times had he watched that film since? Every year at least, whenever it was on television.

"What is going on?" he hissed. "How can we possibly have a party on this ship?"
...
How could they be on this ship? He explained his concerns to Arcturus, but wasn't any the wiser as to why they'd been brought on the Titanic. To prevent the collision? Or merely to help, afterward?

Only what help could they offer beyond freezing companionably in the ocean?

Brother (Frère) Arcturus and Anna A (another author’s character), c. 13 April
One by one their companions went in different directions, until only he and Anna-from-the-future were left, winding their way down to the third class general room.

They skirted the hold, where a sign saying "Beware Egyptians Bearing Gifts" had been tacked on the door, and came to a wide open space in which a carriage-like contraption stood. It was altogether larger and more ornate than any carriage he'd seen before.

"I know this car," Anna said, moving closer to the vehicle. "It's from that movie. I mean," she added, in the face of his confusion, "it was on a ship called the Titanic."

"That's the ship we're on," he said.

"Very funny, Arcturus." She didn't look at him, but walked around, inspecting the windows and the upholstery.

"Why is it funny?"

"Among other things, the Titanic sank."

"I know. Austin told me. But that's the ship we're on."

"What? Is that true? Then why are we just standing here?" She slapped a hand on the nearest window. "Let's go do something!"

"I believe Adam was helping Anna and Isaiah," he said hastily. "Shall we go find them?"

As they left, striding swiftly, Citron, watching from the rafters, puffed out his feathers and muttered, "I was expecting something else entirely. So much for the salacious reputation of les frères."

Austin, with Barb, her cabin, A-Deck, Friday
He was a mass of contradictions.

He wanted all that he'd told her, and then some.

Her eager kisses moved from his mouth, along the stubble on his jaw, then back again. He did the same, grazing her cheeks then capturing her lips with his once more. Each clasp was a frenzy, each breath a gasp, except for in between, as she removed her vest and shirt, and they slowed to nip at each other, and to caress with gentle fingers.

Off the Titanic, they had years ahead before they could finally be together. Years which would be a burden to him alone, not least with the threat that, all unknowing as she'd be, she might find someone else.

He had to imprint himself on her in some way, so that her soul, her heart, recognised only him, gravitated only to him, when they finally met, in England or America or anywhere.

He might have reconsidered the fitness of such a selfish desire, except for what she was telling him tonight, asking of him at this very moment. With her words, and with her hands, which slid down his back and rested at his waist. He tightened his hold around her, pressed up against her curves. Edwardian layers notwithstanding, she must be able to feel how strongly he desired her.

Therein lay the contradictions.

Their hearts had spoken, yet there were so many details still to learn, of each other's days, of each other's dreams. He wanted to move slowly, uncover her mind as much as the body he'd begun to lay bare. Memorise every bit down to the most mundane choices (did she like malt vinegar on her chips as he did?) and the teensiest freckles (where and how many?).

He tugged its bow free, and began drawing loose each loop of lace down her back, until the corset was ready to drop away.

"What about the light?"' she murmured into his neck.

"Off or on?"

"It's a bit bright."

He took up her hand, pausing to plant a kiss in her soft palm, and placed it over the front of the corset, to indicate that she'd need to hold it up once he'd stepped aside.

He rummaged in a box by the hearth and came up with candles and brass holders, deliberately not looking her way as he arranged them on the bedside table and lit them one by one.

The overhead light flicked off, and suddenly she'd caught him round the waist, and he turned into her, and she was all bare, musk and bergamot-scented skin, her curves moulding against his body.

He couldn't move slowly. A small part of his mind might be overthinking, casting into the future, but its steadiness was contradicted by every other part of him, mind and body, which all shouted one thing: we're on the Titanic, we're two days from disaster, kiss her, kiss her, kiss her now.

He speared his hands into her hair, and tugged her even closer. The candlelight muted all colour into warm gold, and she was mere gilt-edged shadow, ready to melt against him. He brought one hand around to cup her cheek, then, still warring between slow and fast, traced a line on her skin with a fingertip, from the column of her neck, to her collarbone, and down.

Austin, with Barb and Adam, up to midnight
They climbed up the last staircase, doing their best to keep out of the way of the crew, until they were able to carve a space for themselves at the starboard rail, at some distance from the lifeboats. Barb stood in the middle.

With all the extra layers and the lifebelts like sandwich boards, there were many inches separating him from Barb. The hours they'd spent with barely a breath between them had dissipated like early morning mist, and now they were isolated, each in their own thoughts, counting down minutes.

He'd never before felt this kind of pressure at a house party, not even in the midst of the Blitz. They'd had freedom to move about the streets there, and a longer time. Time to make choices, to weigh the possibilities for the past and the future.

Time and space had both contracted on board the Titanic. The opposite of the Tardis, he thought, and wished he could mention it to Barb and Adam. But the time it would take to explain a childhood show they'd never seen, likely never even heard of, was more time than he could spare.

Claustrophobia, that's what it was. A total lack of control, that had become firmer with each passing hour. They were stuck on the ship, and stuck for not much longer. He shifted his hands on the rail, trying to adjust his sleeve to look at his watch without letting on that he was doing so.

15 minutes had passed since they'd felt the judder and heard the silence that marked the stoppage of the engines. Yet again, he tried to recall all he could of the last hour of A Night to Remember. Yet again his mind showed him nothing but the lack of response from the Californian, and that dining trolley, sliding ever downward.

Five minutes to midnight. "They'll be rousing the passengers soon," he murmured.
"We have to help," Barb said. "Get as many on the lifeboats as we can."

"Aye. And you, too."

"Later."

"We're not going to --" Adam began.

Barb cut him off. "I said 'later'. We might still have a chance. The others don't."

Adam clamped his mouth shut.

Behind them, orders were shouted and feet hammered on the boards.

He had a sudden vision of the three of them arriving in New York on the Carpathia and being interviewed by a newspaper reporter. How in blazes would they account for themselves? Not on the passenger list, no final destination, no permanent address. If the fog came for them that morning, all they would have done would be to have stolen three seats from the true passengers.

If the Californian could be made to respond! Could they send out more flares, write a message in fire across the sky?

More than likely a sudden squall would put out the flames.

Midnight. The crew swarmed to the side of the ship and began uncovering the lifeboats.
They could stand here. Not run, not fight, not even help. Stand and wait for death.

It was an idle thought, as he knew that it was impossible for him to do nothing. Any time he had ever regretted anything in life, it had been a regret for inaction on his part. Not attending a party. Not joining a trip abroad. Not standing up for an idea.

All the times he'd had no regrets were those times when he'd forged ahead.

Gone to France to volunteer in the medical wards for soldiers returning from Viet Nam, despite the blunt words of the many acquaintances who were appalled that he'd wish to get involved in something so sordid, so unnecessary, so American.

Applied for a place at Oxford, despite friends who said he'd forget his Northern roots, and stayed on, despite colleagues who decried those roots.

Kissed Barb in San Francisco, and kept on, despite Sam's mortifying speech. Kissed her again under the Christmas Tree, despite her wedding ring.

He wanted to kiss her again right now, despite the fear and uncertainty. Because of them.
He turned away from the dark, still ocean to face her, and found Barb already looking up at him.
(to be continued...)

Austin, with Barb and Kedi, 14 April, 2.12 a.m. until dawn: “A large boat floated upside-down in the water, just yards off the port bow. “Collapsible B,” Kedi chirped. “There’s still time to save a few. Time to get in the water.””
As the crew who'd been working on the lifeboat crawled up onto its keel, they sloshed through the water and joined them, scrambling up behind.

No one seemed to notice the woman, non-crewman, and cat that had their backs.

The air trapped under the boat kept them upright as they drifted off Titanic and into open water. An officer who'd been caught beneath the boat managed to swim out and climb onto the hull. Second Officer Lightoller, at the bow, took charge. A few crewmen hung onto the sides and swam forward with the boat a little way before they also climbed on. An echoing shout came from the ship: every man for himself!

They must have been caught in a small current, as they moved away in time, before the ship foundered.

Titanic's lights went out.

In the dark, under the stars, there were only sounds.

The whale-like groans of the ship, as the funnels broke away, and she split at the stern and began to founder.

The slap and slash of hundreds of people trying to swim, with nothing to hold on to and no destination.

He and Barb reached for as many as they could, heaving them aboard as gently as possible, as though simply nudging them to clamber on by themselves, until about 30 men filled every spare space on the hull before them.

No one seemed to notice the swishing of a cat's tail that kept the boat balanced.

The high-pitched cries of all those left in the water. "Like the hum of locusts," muttered one of the young men on their boat.

They did not speak, but over the next hour or so, he and Barb carried on an endless conversation by looks alone. An upturned mouth, a raised brow, spoke volumes. An unblinking gaze, gone dark with desire, held promises for the future. He shook his head at her when her eyes welled up, and she tugged up the dry collar of an undergarment from deep within her layers of wool and lifebelt, to wipe away the tears before they could freeze on her cheeks.

They kept their hands close together before where Kedi sat between them, fingers locked, and frozen into place, glints of ice crystals limning their gloves.

The men were mostly silent, after the cries of those in the ocean had quieted. No ribald jokes, no dark humour was left to them.

There was a brief stir of interest as a rocket flare was spotted in the distance. He and Barb shared another look, full of steel. They knew it was the Carpathia, but they also knew that hours would pass before she had arrived and safely collected all the boats.

He began to hum, and a few of the men picked up the hymn.

Austin, with Barb and Kedi, 14 April, dawn
Towards dawn, the sea began to move.

Their lifeboat rocked in the swell, and sank a bit, as the pocket of air beneath diminished.

Lightoller spoke up. He commanded the men -- and the woman he didn't register as a woman -- to stand in two parallel rows on either side of the centreline, facing the bow.
One by one, they extended stiffened limbs and rose, holding out their arms to prevent a fall.

Kedi, tail swishing, kept the boat balanced.

Once arranged, they all began to sway in unison, under Lightoller's orders, to counteract the rocking caused by the heaving ocean.

The stars faded. The seawater was up to their ankles now, biting through leather and wool. Kedi sat on his shoulder, tail still moving like a pendulum.

A grey light grew. Lightoller took out his whistle and began to call repeatedly. They all kept their eyes peeled, for the Carpathia, and for other lifeboats.

A man fell aside, without a splash, simply sinking down and floating away on the swell. He and Barb shared another look, of recognition, and grim loss. The victim was First Radio Officer Jack Phillips; Adam had spoken of him, as they'd sat in the library, warm and cosy, and waited for the iceberg.

Seawater lapped at their knees. He curled his toes in and out in his boots, and felt not the solidness of muscle and sinew but a dull throbbing, as if his feet had blended with the ocean, and joined in its endless heartbeat, no longer a part of him.

Another man dropped away, just as the splash of oars reached their ears.

"Hold him," Lightoller commanded, so Barb bent at the waist and grasped the body by its arm.

They didn't unlock their linked hands, and he held her up, even as she gave him a mute look that said she could not keep that position for much longer.

Two boats appeared before them. There were no cheers. Lightoller was grim. He greeted Officer Lowe, then kept up his calls, "Left... Rock... Right... Keep swaying." Lightoller -- and Kedi -- kept them upright until the first boat had pulled up alongside.

He and Barb and Kedi got into the second, squeezed together at the stern. Kedi curled up in the middle, purring and sharing his warmth with them both.

He twisted and contorted and managed to pull out one of the linen underthings closest to his skin. He fought with Barb's boots, won the fight, removed her sodden stockings, and wrapped her feet in the linen still warm from his body.

She pointed, and he glanced up. The Carpathia was on the horizon.

"How am I going to climb aboard without boots?" she whispered.

Their fingers twined once more between them.

He was about to say he'd carry her. But she didn't need that.

He bent to yank at his own laces. "I'll call for an escort for us both," he whispered back instead. "Two valiant knights."

Have you used real historical events in your stories?

Sending encouragement to all those taking part in the A to Z Challenge this month!