A Night to Remember: Chapters 3–4

An instant later the boatswain appeared: “Turn out, you fellows. You haven’t half an hour to live. That is from Mr. Andrews. Keep it to yourselves and let no one know.”

Next, Guggenheim wanted to go on deck as he was, but Etches was adamant — it was much too cold.

As they started for the deck, Mrs. Smith decided to go back for some jewelry. Here Mr. Smith drew the line. He suggested it might be wiser not to bother with “trifles.”

The Boat Deck teemed with seamen, stewards, firemen, chefs, ordered up from below.

When he looked out the porthole and saw everybody in life belts, he catapulted out of bed, into his clothes, and rushed on deck to help. Not exactly an auspicious start, but then, as Lowe later explained to U.S. Senator Smith, “You must remember that we do not have any too much sleep, and therefore when we sleep we die.”

Little knots of men swarmed over each boat, taking off the canvas covers, clearing the masts and useless paraphernalia, putting in lanterns and tins of biscuits.

They looked a little nondescript — some in blue uniform coats, some in white jackets — but there was nothing wrong with the music.

Then he ordered Pitman to take charge of No. 5, told him to hang around the after gangway, shook hands and smiled, “Goodbye, good luck.”

“If you’ll get the hell out of the way,” exploded Fifth Officer Lowe who was working the davits, “I’ll be able to do something! You want me to lower away quickly? You’ll have me drown the whole lot of them!”

A Fifth Officer doesn’t insult the President of the line and get away with it. When they reached New York, there would be a day of reckoning.

Suddenly he was amazed to see a lifeboat floating near the starboard side. He phoned the bridge — did they know there was a boat afloat? An incredulous voice asked who he was.

He was still heading there when he disappeared under the torrent of rising water.

Second Class passenger Lawrence Beesley considered himself the rankest landlubber, but even he knew what rockets meant.

“I’ll see you later,” Adolf Dyker smiled as he helped Mrs. Dyker across the gunwale.

The restaurant was not run by the White Star Line but by Monsieur Gatti as a concession.