Unsinkable: The Full Story of the RMS Titanic (32 page)

“I know who I’m speaking to,” Hitchens yelled back, “and I’m in command of this boat.” But apparently Hitchens had enough—or else he realized it was a losing battle and he lapsed into a sulking silence. While all of this quarreling had been going on, the cries for help had gradually diminished and faded into silence. There was no point in going back now, so Boat 6 rowed on into the night, with “the unsinkable Molly Brown,” as the American press would soon christen her, standing like an Amazon at the tiller.
¹²

Collapsible B had its share of squabbles, too, but for the most part the thirty-odd men were more concerned with the common problem of survival. As the swell began to rise, the overturned keel began to pitch, and with each roll a little more of the air trapped underneath escaped, lowering the boat still further into the water. If they were going to make it, they needed leadership. They got it.

It took some time for Second Officer Lightoller to collect his wits—the cold of the sea had truly been numbing—but before long the old habits of command reasserted themselves and Lightoller began to get the men organized. Careful not to disturb the equilibrium of the boat, he had all the men stand up and form two parallel rows, one on each side of the centerline, facing the bow. As the swell rolled the boat from side to side, Lightoller would call out to the men “Lean to the left” ... “Stand upright” ... “Lean to the right”—whatever was required to counteract the motion of the boat. From time to time the men called out “Boat ahoy! Boat ahoy!” in unison but received no replies, and after a while Lightoller told them to stop and save their strength.

Even more than the handful of survivors in Collapsible A, the men atop Collapsible B suffered severely from the cold. Standing in water that at first only washed across the boat, then rose gradually to their ankles and then to their knees as the air pocket under the boat slowly leaked away, the men had no protection from the freshening wind, and their constant movement back and forth to keep the boat steady was using up what reserves of strength they had. Soon some of the men could no longer fight off the cold, and one by one they would sink to their knees, then slowly roll over on their sides, to finally slide off the overturned boat and into the sea, where the swell would carry them away

 

The Titanic on the ways at Harland & Wolff. The figure leaning on the railing gives a good indication of how big the ship was. Careful examination of the photograph has shown that the name was added after the picture was taken. Mariners’ Museum, Newport News, Virginia.

 

The Titanic leaving Southampton, April 10, 1912. Mariners’Museum, Newport News, Virginia.

 

Thomas Andrews, managing director of Harland & Wolff. Responsible for supervising the construction of both the Olympic and the Titanic, he regarded the Titanic as his finest work. Ulster Folk and Transport Museum, Belfast.

 

Captain Edward J. Smith, in the summer of 1911, standing on the Olympic’s Boat Deck, just aft of the bridge. Southampton City Heritage Services, Southampton City Museum.

 

Second Officer Charles Herbert Lightoller. Southampton City Heritage Services, Southampton City Museums.

 

John “Jack” Phillips, senior wireless operator aboard the Titanic. GECMarconi, Ltd.

 

Harold Bride, junior wireless operator. GECMarconi,
Ltd.

 

The Grand Staircase on A Deck. The bas-relief at the head of the stairs is actually a clock; the two figures represent Honor and Glory crowning Time. Mariners’ Museum,
Newport
News, Virginia.

 

No photograph of the
Titanic’s
boiler rooms is known to exist. This photograph of the boiler room of the Union Line’s Moor, though she was much smaller than the
Titanic,
gives an excellent idea of the working conditions of a coal-fired ship. Southampton City Heritage Services, Southampton City Museums.