Part 2 (1/2)

Majestic and beautiful the s.h.i.+p rested on the water, marvel of s.h.i.+pbuilding, worthy of any sea. As this new queen of the ocean moved slowly from her dock, no one questioned her construction: she was fitted with an elaborate system of

{ill.u.s.t. caption = STEAMER ”t.i.tANIC” COMPARED WITH THE LARGEST STRUCTURES IN THE WORLD 1. Bunker Hill Monument. Boston, 221 feet high.

2. Public

{ill.u.s.t. caption = J. BRUCE ISMAY

Managing director of the International Mercantile Marine, and managing director of the White....}

{ill.u.s.t. caption = CHARLES M. HAYS

President of the Grand Trunk Pacific Railways, numbered among the heroic men....}

water-tight compartments, calculated to make her unsinkable; she had been p.r.o.nounced the safest as well as the most sumptuous Atlantic liner afloat.

There was silence just before the boat pulled out--the silence that usually precedes the leave-taking. The heavy whistles sounded and the splendid t.i.tanic, her flags flying and her band playing, churned the water and plowed heavily away.

Then the t.i.tanic, with the people on board waving handkerchiefs and shouting good-byes that could be heard only as a buzzing murmur on sh.o.r.e, rode away on the ocean, proudly, majestically, her head up and, so it seemed, her shoulders thrown back. If ever a vessel seemed to throb with proud life, if ever a monster of the sea seemed to ”feel its oats” and strain at the leash, if ever a s.h.i.+p seemed to have breeding and blue blood that would keep it going until its heart broke, that s.h.i.+p was the t.i.tanic.

And so it was only her due that as the t.i.tanic steamed out of the harbor bound on her maiden voyage a thousand ”G.o.d-speeds” were wafted after her, while every other vessel that she pa.s.sed, the greatest of them dwarfed by her colossal proportions, paid homage to the new queen regnant with the blasts of their whistles and the shrieking of steam sirens.

THE s.h.i.+P'S CAPTAIN

In command of the t.i.tanic was Captain E. J. Smith, a veteran of the seas, and admiral of the White Star Line fleet. The next six officers, in the order of their rank, were Murdock, Lightollder,{sic} Pitman, Boxhall, Lowe and Moody. Dan Phillips was chief wireless operator, with Harold Bride as a.s.sistant.

From the forward bridge, fully ninety feet above the sea, peered out the benign face of the s.h.i.+p's master, cool of aspect, deliberate of action, impressive in that quality of confidence that is bred only of long experience in command.

From far below the bridge sounded the strains of the s.h.i.+p's orchestra, playing blithely a favorite air from ”The Chocolate Soldier.” All went as merry as a wedding bell. Indeed, among that gay s.h.i.+p's company were two score or more at least for whom the wedding bells had sounded in truth not many days before. Some were on their honeymoon tours, others were returning to their motherland after having pa.s.sed the weeks of the honeymoon, like Colonel John Jacob Astor and his young bride, amid the diversions of Egypt or other Old World countries.

What daring flight of imagination would have ventured the prediction that within the span of six days that stately s.h.i.+p, humbled, shattered and torn asunder, would lie two thousand fathoms deep at the bottom of the Atlantic, that the benign face that peered from the bridge would be set in the rigor of death and that the happy bevy of voyaging brides would be sorrowing widows?

ALMOST IN A COLLISION

The big vessel had, however, a touch of evil fortune before she cleared the harbor of Southampton. As she pa.s.sed down stream her immense bulk--she displaced 66,000 tons--drew the waters after her with an irresistible suction that tore the American liner New York from her moorings; seven steel hawsers were snapped like twine. The New York floated toward the White Star s.h.i.+p, and would have rammed the new s.h.i.+p had not the tugs Vulcan and Neptune stopped her and towed her back to the quay.

When the mammoth s.h.i.+p touched at Cherbourg and later at Queenstown she was again the object of a port ovation, the smaller craft doing obeisance while thousands gazed in wonder at her stupendous proportions.

After taking aboard some additional pa.s.sengers at each port, the t.i.tanic headed her towering bow toward the open sea and the race for a record on her maiden voyage was begun.

NEW BURST OF SPEED EACH DAY

The t.i.tanic made 484 miles as her first day's run, her powerful new engines turning over at the rate of seventy revolutions. On the second day out the speed was. .h.i.t up to seventy-three revolutions and the run for the day was bulletined as 519 miles. Still further increasing the speed, the rate of revolution of the engines was raised to seventy-five and the day's run was 549 miles, the best yet scheduled.

But the s.h.i.+p had not yet been speeded to her capacity she was capable of turning over about seventy-eight revolutions. Had the weather conditions been propitious, it was intended to press the great racer to the full limit of her speed on Monday. But for the t.i.tanic Monday never came.

FIRE IN THE COAL BUNKERS

Unknown to the pa.s.sengers, the t.i.tanic was on fire from the day she sailed from Southampton. Her officers and crew knew it, for they had fought the fire for days.