10

ABANDON SHIP!

Unknown to Phillips or anyone else on the Titanic at that time, there was a ship close by. This was the Californian, whose radio operator, Evans, had sent warnings of ice earlier that night. Rebuffed by an angry Jack Phillips, Evans had switched off his radio and retired for the night.

Now, as the Titanic’s distress call, CQD went out over the airwaves, the one ship close enough to come to the stricken liner's aid, could not hear the latest terrible message: ‘We have struck iceberg. Sinking fast. Come to our assistance.’

The Californian had earlier encountered an ice field and Captain Stanley Lord had ordered the ship to stop for the night. On the bridge, Third Officer Charles Groves was on watch. He had tried to signal with his Aldis lamp to a ship that had passed on their port side. But the ship had not responded.

When Captain Lord came onto the bridge around midnight, both men discussed the presence of the ship whose lights they could just see. Second Officer Herbert Stone, who was due to take over the watch, joined the two men on the bridge. He judged that the ship, which appeared to be stationary, was about five miles distant.

But if the ship was the Titanic then Stone's estimation of the distance between it and the Californian was incorrect. Later estimates put the distance between the two ships as being between 10 and 20 miles.

Captain Lord ordered Stone to inform him if he noticed anything unusual about the other ship. Then Lord retired to his cabin, unaware of the tragedy which was now taking place just a few miles away. If he had only known and acted, many of those who died that night could have been saved.

So, while the Californian maintained radio silence, other ships began to pick up Jack Phillips’ distress call. Both the Mount Temple and the La Provence responded to the CQD message. But both were too far away to reach the stricken liner before she sank.

Captain Moore on the Mount Temple did alter course to head for the Titanic but encountered ice and had to slow down. By the time his ship reached the disaster, area the Titanic had sunk and any survivors still in the water were long since dead.

The distress call was also picked up at Cape Race, a radio listening station at Newfoundland. Cape Race, in turn, began to transmit the information that the Titanic was sinking. An American amateur radio enthusiast also picked up the distress call.

David Sarnoff operated a radio transmitter from the Wanamaker shop in New York. Now he too began to transmit details of the terrible life and death drama that was being enacted out on the dark, calm waters of the Atlantic. Around the world, numerous ships and other radio receivers now picked up the news that the Titanic was sinking. But all were powerless to intervene or help.

By now on the Titanic the squash court was flooded. More than 100 tons of water had entered the front parts of the ship. The bow rail was less than 5 metres above the surface of the freezing water.

On the deck the crew was beginning to muster around the lifeboats. Though the most senior officers on the ship were in charge, there was still great confusion. No proper lifeboat drills had been carried out. Members of the crew were not allotted to any particular lifeboat. Now they rushed about taking up positions where they thought they were needed.

The lifeboats were eventually uncovered and lowered to the boat deck, ready for passengers to embark. When the passengers were safely in the boats, they would be lowered some 20 metres to the water.

By now the crew were notifying passengers of the emergency. They knocked on cabin doors and informed the occupants of the danger. Many passengers heeded the warning and made their way onto the open decks. Others simply refused to believe what they were being told and stayed in their beds.

Many passengers, aware of the impact and that the ship had stopped, came up on deck to see what had happened. Seeing the activity, they quickly realised that something was wrong but as yet had no idea of its seriousness. On the captain's orders, the crew were reassuring the passengers that there was no immediate danger. Thomas Andrews also went about reassuring passengers that all was well. He too was anxious to prevent panic.

Captain Smith was only too well aware of the possible consequences of panic breaking out, despite the crew's reassurances. He knew that evacuating the passengers would be difficult enough in the circumstances. But if there was a general panic, then it might become impossible and a great many lives might be lost as a result.

What was required was the creation of an air of calm. To achieve this, the captain had a brilliant idea. He would have the ship's orchestra come up to the First Class lounge on the promenade deck and play music there.

The members of the orchestra were summoned. Carrying their instruments and led by their leader, Wallace Hartley, the eight musicians made their way up onto A deck. Here, in the First Class lounge, they began to play ragtime music, which was extremely popular at the time. Their repertoire would have included the famous tune, ‘Alexander's Ragtime Band’.

It was without doubt their most unusual performance and one that would go down in history. Little did they know, as they began to play, that it would be the last time they would ever play together and that all eight were destined to drown that very night. They displayed great bravery during the disaster and emerged as heroes of the Titanic tragedy.

The scene on the ship was now unreal. On the boat deck, the lifeboats were being readied. The radio was continually transmitting the distress call. More and more passengers were coming up on deck, many of them unsuitably dressed for such a cold night. Certainly those still in their nightclothes, along with many others, were not prepared to abandon the comfort and apparent safety of the ship and take to the small, wooden lifeboats.

Even yet, despite all the activity pointing to an emergency, most passengers still could not accept that the ship would sink. Though the bow had already sunk quite low in the water, this was still hardly noticeable on board.

Some passengers did prepare to evacuate the ship and returned to their cabins to dress properly. Others gathered at the purser's office to retrieve valuables left in the safe there. But as yet there was no air of general panic. The happy music drifting on the night air seemed to be having the desired effect.

Captain Smith was still hopeful that a ship could come to their aid. A German liner, the Frankfurt did respond to the distress call. But it was 170 miles away. Then they got a response from the liner, the Carpathia. It would come to their aid. Bride, the second wireless operator, brought this message to the bridge to Captain Smith.

For a moment there seemed to be hope. Smith went to the radio room and asked Phillips to find out how far away the ship was. When the position of the ship was radioed back, all hope faded. The Carpathia was 58 miles away. By the time it reached them the Titanic would be at the bottom of the ocean.

Captain Smith returned to the bridge. Now he was faced with giving an order that no ship's captain would ever wish to give. Taking a deep breath, he turned to his chief officer, Wilde, and spoke the words that banished all hope for the Titanic, its passengers and crew. They were the words that all those who travelled on board any vessel dreaded – the two words: ‘Abandon ship!’