Voices from the Titanic (7 page)

Viewed from Trafalgar Quay, in the brilliant setting of Southampton Water, under a blue sky flecked with fleecy clouds, and the ocean greyhounds of yesterday – the
St Louis
, the
Oceanic
, and many others – dwarfed in the near distance, the scene was tremendously impressive. Within the week Southampton has sent forth the two greatest liners in the world – the
Olympic
and the
Titanic
– a record in itself.

Never before in the history of the mercantile marine has so great a triumph of naval architecture as the
Titanic
left a port. So there was a new sensation in the occasion of this leviathan's movement – a monster, towering to the flags above 160ft, deck over deck, and with a length of 876ft – as she rounded the Test Quay, majestically displayed her lines, and bore down on the Solent.

An officer aboard told me that he had been on the
Titanic
four and a half days and, apart from his own sphere, knew very little about her. In three hours, having walked some six miles, new wonders and improvements revealing themselves in all directions, one was only able to take ‘samples' of extraordinary interest in themselves, and of great importance to the ocean traveller. On the
Titanic
sunshine is being taken out. The gloom and depression of November's fogs off the Banks have been annihilated. The first-class passenger sits down to dinner in the splendid saloon, with its windows of cathedral-grey glass, and the attendants switch on cunningly hidden electric lights on the outside. The effect is naturalness itself.

One can engage for £870 the voyage a ‘private ocean trip'. There are honeymoon suites, with honeymoon decks set apart
for the millionaire brides and bridegrooms of the future; state rooms decorated in every different style and period, with lovely, ample cot-beds in brass, mahogany, and oak; lounges decorated in Louis XVI style; verandahs with climbing plants and ramblers; real coal fires as well as hundreds of radiators; restaurants and cafés; reception-rooms upholstered in the daintiest silk, with gorgeous panels and richly carved cornices – the whole forming an impressive ensemble in perfect taste, satisfying to the eye.

There were but 1,470 passengers, besides the 800 members of the crew and scores of attendants on board today, so that there was no crowding in any part of the vessel. Fully an hour before she sailed the gymnasium, in charge of a professional gymnast, was in working. On one side a lady was having a camel ride and recalling the delights of the Pyramids; in another corner there was a bicycle race; many passengers took their own weights on the automatic chairs, and some had a spin on the mechanical rowing machines. In the squash racquets court two Americans were ‘fighting the battle of their lives' – it might have been at the Bath Club, so thoroughly at home did they look.

In the third-class, or steerage, departments, the loveliest linen, glass and cutlery were displayed ready for luncheon, while the easy-chairs, card tables, pianos and settees reminded one of the first-class accommodation on many liners twenty years ago.

But the most fascinating feature, perhaps, of the
Titanic
today was the trips of ‘discovery' men and women set out to explore. They were shot into the depths by splendidly equipped electric lifts. They called at the post-office for a chat with the postmaster on the sorting arrangements. They wandered to the swimming baths and the luxurious Turkish saloons. They examined the kitchens, with their 21,000 dishes and plates, tons of silver and cutlery, and acres of glass and linen. They touched the pianos on every deck in every corner of advantage, or listened to the band; scanned the arrays of novels and more serious works in the libraries; and learnt all sorts of wonderful things about the electric
buttons which control this 47,000-ton vessel, command its engines and its little army of services alike.

At 11.45 the bells clanged. The visitors wandered down the gangways. Hatchways were closed. The tugs snorted, and the
Titanic
set out on her maiden trip. But scarcely had she moved 600 yards into the bay when it was evident that something unlooked for had occurred.

Among the crowds still waving handkerchiefs there was a sudden silence. The gigantic triple expansion engines had begun to work. Nearby were the
Oceanic
and the
New York
– great vessels in their day – now dwarfed to comparative insignificance. Directly the huge screws of the
Titanic
began to revolve, the suction caused the seven great stern ropes of the
New York
to part, and the American liner's stern swung round into midstream.

All eyes were fixed on the
New York
. It looked as if there must be a collision; but, as a matter of fact, there was no real danger. The
Titanic
's screws were stopped almost instantaneously, and the
New York
was towed to safety. Then the
Titanic
slowly sped down Southampton Water, the faces of her passengers peering at every nook of the seven tiers along the whole length of the liner, until she melted away in the distance, and her maiden voyage had begun.

(
The Standard
, 10 April 1912)

The departure of the
Titanic
on her maiden voyage on Wednesday was marred by an untoward incident which caused considerable consternation among the hundreds of people gathered on the quay-side to witness the sailing of the largest vessel afloat. By some means or other the passing of the
Titanic
caused the
New York
to break away from her position alongside the
Oceanic
with the result that the
Titanic
and the
New York
narrowly missed colliding with each other. Fortunately, the captain of the tug
Vulcan
was able to take a rapid glance of the situation, and by his promptness and
skill in manoeuvring he was able to hold the
New York
whilst the
Titanic
got clear, and a very dangerous episode ended with nothing more than a few broken ropes.

Let it be said at once that the story that the
Titanic
was unmanageable, and that she was the reason for the incident, is absolutely untrue. As a matter of fact, she had got underway beautifully. It is doubtful whether the
Olympic
has ever cleared the new dock in such a splendid manner as did the
Titanic
on this occasion. From the moment she began to move from her berth in that dock she was under absolute control, and she passed out of the dock not only majestically, but also smoothly and calmly. If anything, she was proceeding more slowly than the
Olympic
usually does, and she turned her nose towards the sea with the greatest ease. It was a low but rising tide, with a fairly strong breeze, and if the officials anticipated any difficulty at all it was when she was making her exit from the new dock. But there was not the slightest difficulty. To the writer, who was standing on the quay at the time, the tugs appeared to be working magnificently, and once she had turned round and straightened herself for the Channel a few of the people standing by began to move homewards, some of them being heard to make exclamations of surprise at the ease with which a 46,000 ton steamer could be shaped for the sea.

Indeed, matters were going so well that some of the tugs were able to slacken off. One or two, at least, had left the vessel, and were merely following in her wake until she had cleared the Dock head. But it was at this point that the trouble began. At berth No. 38 the
Oceanic
was moored to the quay-side, and the
New York
was moored to the
Oceanic
. Both those vessels have been laid up on account of the strike, and they were presumably moored alongside each other in order to save quay space. This system of mooring ships together is quite an old one, and no one apparently gave a thought to the possibility of anything happening on this occasion. We believe we are right in saying that the two vessels occupied exactly the same positions when the
Titanic
arrived at the port a week ago. In those circumstances it was, perhaps,
forgivable that no one gave them a thought, but what happened will probably bring about an alteration when next a mammoth vessel leaves the port.

It is difficult to convey a true impression of what actually occurred. All eyes were fixed on the
Titanic
; the
New York
was in nobody's mind at the moment, but when the
Titanic
had almost got alongside the American Line's vessel something began to happen which diverted attention to the
New York
. The
Titanic
had just begun to move her propellers, and she was practically in what is termed the ‘sea channel'. Without the slightest warning, the ropes which kept the
New York
in her position began to snap. It was suggested that the displacement of water by the
Titanic
had first of all had the effect of increasing the volume of water under and around the
New York
, with the result that the vessel was raised from her normal position, and her ropes were thus slackened. Then as the larger vessel passed on ahead the volume of water decreased in the vicinity of the
New York
, with the result that she suddenly reverted to her former position. This caused too great a strain on the ropes, and they snapped as easily as a grocer snaps a piece of twine with his fingers. The
Titanic
was drawing the water behind her with considerable force, and as the
New York
was now helpless and unmanned, her stern began to move in the direction of the
Titanic,
that vessel being now broadside on.

For the moment it seemed as if nothing could prevent a disastrous accident. We do not believe in using the ‘ifs' too much, for the truth is often bad enough without any ‘might-have-beens' tacked on, but it was only too plain to those on the quay-side that if the
Titanic
had touched the
New York
the latter vessel might easily have rammed the
Oceanic
, and the slightest touch on her stern must have sent her heavily into the
Oceanic
. Fortunately, however, the worst did not happen. Having got the
Titanic
fairly under way, a couple of tugs hung back, their portion of the work having been successfully accomplished. The two tugs were, however, proceeding along slowly near the stern of the
Titanic
, and when the
New York
began to move it was these tugs – the
Vulcan
and the
Hercules
– that went to the helpless ship. It was a smart bit of work. The
Vulcan
got to the
New York
in very quick time, and a rope was speedily put on board. As luck would have it, however, the first rope snapped, but in less time than it takes to tell another rope was thrown. This was made fast by some workmen who happened to be on the
New York
, and by a tremendous effort the vessel was kept from drifting on to the
Titanic
. The
Hercules
and the
Vulcan
concentrated their efforts on holding the
New York
whilst the
Titanic
was passing along, and they succeeded in their task.

It was a narrow squeak. From the quay-side it seemed that there were not more than three or four feet between the two vessels. It was stated that the vessels actually touched, but this was not so. The movement of the
New York
was from the
Oceanic
towards the next berth – No. 37 – and when the
Titanic
finally passed down the Channel the ‘nose' of the
New York
was pointing towards the Floating Bridge. Apparently all the tugs endeavoured to do was to hold her, and when the period of danger was past she was brought back to her berth alongside the
Oceanic
. During all this time there was a fear lest the
Oceanic
should also get adrift. There must have been a tremendous strain on her ropes, but they stood the test, much to the relief of the sightseers who had got on board.

(
Southampton Times and Hampshire Express
, 13 April 1912)

Captain C. Gale, the captain of the tug
Vulcan
, which by common consent rendered conspicuous service in holding up the
New York
at the moment when an accident seemed imminent, was seen by a representative of the
Southampton Times
, to whom he gave a version of the incident. He said: