Read Spirit of the Titanic Online

Authors: Nicola Pierce

Spirit of the Titanic (15 page)

BOOK: Spirit of the Titanic
13.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Bellowing at Harold, who was frantically looking for Jack, and a handful of officers, he stepped into the ocean after the upside-down boat.

“YOU LOT, FOLLOW ME!”

That large, sudden wave signalled the beginning of the end. Plenty were washed overboard as if they were being rinsed out of a cup. Men roared and women screamed, only the children were quiet as they concentrated all their efforts in keeping as near as possible to their parents. I felt so helpless.

Oh, my God, Jim. Where was he?

I could do nothing to save my own father but I was damned if I was going to let Sarah and Joseph lose theirs.

There he was, clinging onto the railings, squashed in by the large number of people who were determined not to end up in the water.

The wave unleashed a new, hideous reality as the back of the ship began to slowly stand up out of the sea. Dodging water was one thing. It was frightening, but at least it was straightforward. Standing on the back side of an ocean liner and feeling it rise toward the sky was something else entirely.

Those who hadn't been able to get near to the railings ended up on their bellies, skidding at ferocious speed from that preposterous height all the way down to the water below. Jim managed to hold on, but just about all of the women and children were lost at this point. The kindly officer who had offered to stay by the fatherless young family was nowhere to be seen, like his charges. In other words, he had kept his word to them, to stay with them whatever happened.

The whole world, it seemed, was filled with screams, from the tip of the now vertical
Titanic
to those hundreds flapping about in the freezing water. They seemed so far away from where I hovered next to Jim. He was surrounded by men and they all looked at one another in bewilderment. Were they really standing on
Titanic
's back, as she herself stood up in the air? How could this be happening? One man, the red-faced man who had led his family to first class, only to stop for a drink, at his family's expense, even tried to make a joke.

“At least it's not raining.”

No one laughed. I looked around for his wife and children, but they must have been in the water. They had missed the last lifeboat because of him and were now drowning, if they weren't already dead. I was the only one who saw his tears. His face was distorted with his own torment, but I found it hard to feel sorry for him. He should have been with his family now, wherever they were. Suddenly, as if he heard me, he let go and fell to his death. Nobody said a word.

A few of the men, wracked by fear, forced themselves to stop staring down at the sea and, instead, lifted their gaze to the stars in the sky, the most ordinary sight around. Shooting stars leaped across the sky and all was pretty much as it should be. When nothing happened, after a few seconds, another man spoke up.

“Don't forget to let go just as you hit the water or you'll end up getting sucked down with her.”

No one thanked him, but all intended to heed his words. Then, at last, there was movement. I expected a sudden, aggressive rush downward, but it was the opposite. I felt the stricken ship was trying to accommodate her remaining passengers, who had fought to stay aboard her until the very last minute. She very gently slid down, making a slow, elegant descent. The shouting was immense, however, and I lost sight of Jim after he hit the water. I hovered over the exact spot, hoping and hoping that he wasn't still wrapped around the railings. When he finally emerged, spluttering, coughing, and spitting out the salty water, I could have cried, if I had been able to.

As
Titanic
slid below the water, I found myself unable to follow her. I kept her in sight for as long as I could and then she was gone. I could hear her bell chiming and I remembered Charlie saying, back in the shipyard, that the sound of the rivets being struck by the hammers probably sounded like church bells on the wind. She was wrenched in two, at least that's how it looked to me, the Atlantic finishing her off for good. Such cruelty. She didn't deserve this; none of us did. A couple of minutes, or perhaps it was seconds, passed before I heard her dash into the seabed. It was so confusing. I had thought that I was to remain her passenger for as long as she lived, that she was my grave, which was a lot more interesting than a box in Belfast City Cemetery. But no, just like me she didn't get to live long enough, thanks to a stupid accident at work. None of it made sense. What had it all been for — all those workmen, all those months of building her? Now, here we were, both lost at sea. We had shared the same fate. Perhaps that's why I had always felt so close to her.

I couldn't even begin to guess how cold the water was. Every time Jim breathed out, a cloud of mist — his own — almost obscured his face. Then the dying started in earnest. Whether it was the shock of the freezing temperature or the shock of such a traumatic experience, people seemed to fall asleep after a few short seconds. I spotted Arthur, the old waiter, lying perfectly still, his lifejacket keeping his body afloat. Jim was shivering so violently, it was like he was having some sort of fit. I became afraid for him all over again. What was I going to do now?

There was a shout from behind me and I saw, with amazement, Officer Lightoller and Harold scramble on to the back of an upturned boat. Taking a minute to look about, I could also see most of the other lifeboats in the distance. Were Isobel and the children nearby? All around me people were sobbing for help. Surely some of the boats would come back to pick them up? The chorus of echoing voices reminded me of Da taking me to see a football match in Windsor Park. Minutes were ticking away and the shouts grew less and less. Jim was still alive. I could see his foggy breath, but, oh, how I wished he would shout out like the others.

Lightoller and Harold had been joined by a rather straggly bunch of men, all standing one behind the other, balancing on the spine of the boat. I was overjoyed to see the baker swim by me, making for the boat. He took his time with wide, even strokes, as if he hadn't a care in the world.

“I say, lads, any room for one more?”

Lightoller shook his head sadly. “I'm sorry, mate, but we can't take on anyone else or she'll tip over.”

Mr. Joughin just nodded his head agreeably. “Yes, I see. Not to worry. I'll go and catch up with one of the lifeboats.”

Without waiting for an answer, he swam around the back of the boat. Suddenly one of the men at the back of the line whispered, “Charlie? Is that you, mate?”

Before the baker could identify himself, his colleague had reached out a hand to him and, helped by a second accomplice, pulled him on board. Lightoller was too distracted with giving directions to the others regarding steering the boat using the weight of their legs. I heard the baker's whisper, “Now, George, hang on there. We might just make it yet.”

Their progress was dreadfully slow. Unfortunately Jim was silent as they passed him so they kept going and he was left behind. Though, perhaps, Officer Lightoller wouldn't have allowed him on board in any case. The cloud of breath was growing fainter and smaller and his face seemed to be taking on a bluish colour. If only I could scream or punch him to stay awake. Why was he just giving in like this? Had he forgotten about Isobel, Joseph, and Sarah? Didn't he realize he had to fight?

There was a small splash a few feet away from me. It was one of the dogs and it was struggling to keep itself afloat. Maybe it understood that if it kept kicking out, it might help to stave off the stinging cold. Then I heard another splash. Turning away from the dog, I saw a marvellous sight, one lone lifeboat was returning to the rescue. The officer at the helm was swinging his torch left and right, while calling out, “Hullo? Hullo? Is anyone there?”

There were two other men in the boat prodding the bodies they passed with their oars to see if they were still alive. One of them was visibly upset as each body rolled over lifelessly.

“We waited too long. May God forgive us all! Most of 'em were probably dead as soon as they hit the water.”

His superior refused to accept this and re-doubled his efforts. “Come on! There must be somebody here? Make yourselves known.”

Jim's breathing was getting slower with each passing second. There was no time to lose. The would-be rescuers were about 15 feet away from him. I couldn't afford to wait until they browsed around, in the hope that they might see the bit of life left in him. As it was, they hadn't noticed the clumsy paddling of the dog. It was still dark, after all. Suddenly I knew what I could do. I launched myself at the dog, hoping that he wasn't too caught up with his own battle to survive to notice my woo-hooing like a proper ghost. I couldn't actually hear myself, but I kept repeating it over and over again as I hovered right next to the animal's face. To my relief, he stopped what he was doing, looking about him puzzled. Then he let out a meek yelp. It was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard.

“Go on, boy. Bark loud, like a good dog. Woof! Woof! Woo-hoo! Woo-hoo!”

He looked straight at me, although I didn't believe he could see me. He seemed to be unsure if he had heard anything at all and, thus, didn't want to make a fool of himself. I grew impatient.

“You stupid mutt! Bark like you're supposed to. You're a bloody dog, aren't you? You fool!”

He actually growled and quite possibly cursed at me in doggy language as he sounded out a torrent of outraged barking. The light of the torch swept over us instantly. I dived at the dog again and this time he tried to get at me, pushing at Jim with his sharp claws as he thought to clamber up on to his chest. This roused Jim slightly and he coughed just a little, but the small bubble-shaped cloud that appeared in front of his mouth was enough. The officer yelled out excitedly, “Over there. Look over there. There's a live one. Hurry up, boys!”

His men didn't delay and they crossed over to Jim in a miraculous amount of time. The senior officer stretched out to hoist him in. “You're alright, mate. We've got you. You're safe now.” They wrapped him in someone's coat, one of the men even removing his own jacket to put around Jim's head. When they were satisfied that he was breathing a little more regularly, they turned out to the ocean again, to see if there was anyone else they could save.

“What about the dog, sir?”

Alas, the dog had used up all his energy with that bout of angry barking. Once he stopped swimming, the cold, icy water made short work of him, slowing down his heart and sending him to sleep, during the few minutes the men worked to revive Jim. I had hoped he'd make it. He certainly deserved to.

“I'm afraid he's a goner, poor thing. This chap has a lot to thank him for.”

There was no one else in need of their help, so they headed off in the direction of the other lifeboats. I stayed by the dog and watched them go, elated over the fact that I had accomplished my self-appointed mission. Jim was safe. Isobel still had a husband, and her children, a father. My being here had been for something. There had been a reason, after all.

“Thank you,” I mouthed, to no one in particular.

* * *

The silence was incredible after all the havoc. It was eerie. I surveyed the seascape around me. Miles of frozen bodies standing upright in the water, thanks to their lifejackets. There was so many of them, bobbing gently, looking as if they were only sound asleep.

Moving in and around the dead passengers and crew, I hoped I wouldn't see anyone I knew. I couldn't help it; I found myself struck by the beauty of the corpses. There was a girl of maybe ten or more. Her skin shone in the night light while the drops of ice that were fixed to her cheeks sparkled like diamonds. She had been captured in a perfection that would never be smudged by pimples or wrinkles. A baby boy floated by, his face and hand as blue as his blankets. As I gazed upon him, I was startled by a noise. It wasn't a loud one, more like a gentle thud-thud. Hoping it might be someone else who needed my help, I peered in the direction it was coming from and found myself bitterly disappointed, and sad, to discover it was only a couple of bodies that were bumping up against a small iceberg. The ocean was punctured by icebergs as far as I could make out. They were as silent and still as the dead.

My elation was beginning to disappear. For the first time in a long, long time I was completely alone. I missed them. It was so strange. I hadn't even known them for long — Isobel, Jim, Joseph, and Sarah. Their suitcase was at the bottom of the ocean, while I was stuck here on top. I also missed
Titanic
, that beautiful ship that I helped to build and made my home. I even ached with loneliness for this dead dog, who unintentionally gave his life for another. I missed Uncle Albert, Charlie, Ed, Jack. I missed the stupid boys in my class. And I missed my mother. I only understood now that I had seen something of her in Isobel. But Isobel was gone, busy with her own children, and I was alone in the sea, surrounded by the dead.

The sun started to creep out of its hiding place and I suddenly felt peculiar. I wasn't sure. The air vibrated around me or maybe it was me that trembled. There was something in the air. A softness? A warmth? It was a strange sensation. I was nervous and excited but I didn't know why. Now that was strange; I could smell the breeze. I hadn't been able to smell since my accident. It had a sweet smell as it caressed my face. I could actually feel it. Another thing I hadn't been able to do since the fall. A mist, slightly pinkish in colour, had formed without my noticing it. It stretched out across the ocean and I could no longer see anything except the dog beside me. To my surprise, I heard what sounded like the slapping of a boat upon the water. Had another lifeboat come back to search for survivors?

I had another surprise when I looked down and saw my reflection in the water. Oh my goodness. What was happening? There was my brown hair, my green eyes, and even the hint of stubble on my chin. There were my arms and my hands and my legs. My newly found ears began to throb slightly. The air was buzzing, I was sure of it now. So taken was I with my appearance that I hardly bothered about the approaching boat, if that was what it was. The mist was too thick to see.

BOOK: Spirit of the Titanic
13.04Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Diary of a Mad First Lady by Dishan Washington
Dying Fall by Judith Cutler
The Impossibly by Laird Hunt
I Could Go on Singing by John D. MacDonald
Home Before Sundown by Barbara Hannay
Trouble with the Law by Tatiana March


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024