The Ship of Dreams: Chapter 13

Even for a skilled writer, describing the sinking of the ship was of an almost ineffable nature. Nothing seemed to give the event the due justice and rendition that it deserved. She began her journey to the ocean's floor from the bow. It feels wrong to say, given the circumstances, but in all of its tragedy and horror, there was something magnificent about this happenstance.

It was as if the ship came the more alive, the closer she came to her death. The totality of the situation didn’t fully settle in until the dark ocean waters seeped and ladled themselves over the railings and the planks of Titanic’s grand bow. The darkened water consumed everything, including the deck's lighting, and the lighting that was above it reflected back what was underneath, making a brilliant aquamarine color of it that was in its own right majestic.

Titanic was a great black whale of a beast in the backdrop of the darkness of the night, and yet, her lighting illuminated the stage for the greatest maritime disaster known to man, providing light for the surrounding area for all to see. Throughout the entire one-and-a-half-hour ordeal they would remain on to this end, ensuring that as many souls as possible could be saved from the inevitable. This was a remarkable feature accomplished by the real heroes of that tragic night, found in the ship’s firemen, who continued working on until the bitter end.

And it was perhaps not until this time that one would have begun to truly access the size and magnitude of Titanic, although it would have been a little too late. For as more of her front end was dragged down by the Atlantic, the more of her rear end ascended out behind her for all to see.

What was interesting for Geoffrey to note, was the way that the passengers of the ship did not seem to become as concerned with the situation as they should, until the point that the water at the front of the ship had reached the Captain’s Cabin, or when the propellors and red waterline in the back of the ship exposed themselves. Geoffrey Archibald was not nearly as good with mathematics as he was with his linguistic prowess, but he was quite sure that even though the odds were that the Titanic sinking was unlikely, the ship couldn’t endure the weight of the stern running perpendicular with the waters below.

Eventually, the atmosphere would catch up with the growing exigencies of such a dire situation. More and more so, it became the case that the crescendo of shrills, and screams could be heard all along the deck as the passengers reacted to the freezing waters that lapsed alongside the wooden beams.

These growing moans met with the burgeoning creaks, groans, and moans that issued forth from the bowels of the ship as the water caused the thick metal to twist, churn, and turn on itself in the centermost sections, and where the iceberg had left its fatal mark. Adding to the solemn quality of this ambiance were the contributions of the ship's band and acting pastor to whom played their songs, such as Nearer, My God, to Thee, and that said their gospel in the chaos of it all.

Just as all of life can be measured in a breath, all the world is basic physics, and all known forces were acting against Titanic’s favor. The gross weight of Titanic may have been forty thousand plus tons, but that was incomparable to the vastness of the ocean’s depths in the middle of the ocean. Fluid dynamics would see to that. Just as the laws of gravity would, as were growing evident at an exponential rate with the increasing number of rolling objects being thrown in the bow’s direction.

Time was of another matter, and it was of the essence. With each passing moment, it became the more difficult to stand straight and keep one’s bearings without having to clutch onto something with some added force exerted. No, it was not until this time that the growing concern of the passengers could be viscerally felt.

There were only twenty lifeboats on the eight-hundred-eighty-two-foot ship, and each one was supposed to take only ten minutes at most to launch, from start to finish. This seemed to be only the case for those on the boat deck, whose anxieties were peaking in idiosyncratic proportions to the rise and ascension of the ship’s stern out of the water. Those inside were comforted with the illusion that it was all some sort of bad drill. That is, at least those that were not confronted with the freezing waters that slowly occupied the space and volume of the great ship.

Einstein’s theory of relativity would yet to be discovered, but in that eleventh hour, every passing second seemed an eternity in itself. Each boat launched out meant less time. It was a reduced chance of getting onto another one. And ultimately, for one’s chance of survival. In the back of each of the passenger’s minds, this must have been known, and yet, in some panic-driven state of denial, most passengers did not act as such. The best illustration of this was found in the way that the first of the sixteen lifeboats were filled with only twenty-plus souls filled, as they were reluctant to believe that they were in any immediate danger. Or in the way that some four-hundred-seventy-two seats went unused that night in such a great loss of life.

And it went, that the passengers did not give the situation the attention that it should until it became all the more difficult to launch the boats out to sea as the waters met the officers squarely where they stood so that they were more pushed out to see than launched with no need of slinging apparatus.

The denial did not cease until the sounds of gunshots could be heard firing the length of the decks around as the officers did all they could to keep the angst-ridden passengers in order near collapsible boats A and B. It ceased to linger in that space as water began to come flooding out onto the decks from the insides, signifying that they had met Mr. Guttenheim in the grand stairwell with its flawless crystalline chandelier.

A religious man, Geoffrey Archibald thought of the sentiment found in abandoning all hope. That summed things up pretty accurately. There was mayhem all around him, and what confidence he had caved in as he watched in floating fear as the first of the Titanic’s gigantic funnels went unsuspended from its upright position, and with its cords snapping, went crashing into the water, with passengers having to dive out of the way. Now he was surely convinced.

All thoughts of being a hero, or about legacy left his mind. He had become fully gripped by fear, and in his panic-stricken state, he was completely unsure as to how to act. Geoffrey Archibald was as frozen as the waters that were approaching him, and he seriously doubted that he could act as the Captain in seeing as many women and children to safety as was possible with what time remained.

How there was a life lesson in the midst of it. It seemed to him at that moment, that even when we are in the middle of traumatic experiences, or near-death experiences, they must be felt out, and acted upon. That they must be lived out nevertheless, and the choices that we make in them our ours alone to take, whatever they may be. That they must be lived out, and that in those moments, it is as if we became so completely part of the present moment as if we are one and emersed with it.

So much so, that it seems to the individual that all of life can be seen from this vantage point, where the observer understands the definition of life, in that it is life alone; sorry, but do you really need a dictionary to define it for you? That life in every moment, is a decision or a choice, along with consciousness, a choice or decision closer to life or death, or where the individual acts from a fear-based place, or of a love-based place.

Little did Geoffrey know, there would be another much greater lesson for him to learn. One that most of us spend our entire lives searching for, or trying to understand, whether it be in religion, philosophy, theology, or the like. One that has to do with the susceptibility that we have in this vast universe. A lesson on surrender. And one that has to do with equal portions that we are often looking for a savior when in reality we have to be the savior that we are searching for.

In the same way, we also come to learn that in a paradoxical way, we aren’t always the hero of the narrative, at least in the way that we expected, and that is perfectly okay. Fate is a fickle thing in that way. However, none of this ever occurred to Geoffrey, nor did he even process that this was taking place. For as soon as he had earnestly and full-heartedly made his decision, there was in rapid succession a series of events that would quite literally sweep the writer off of his feet.

Not far off from Geoffrey’s position lay stationed none other than Second Officer Lightoller. It was of an arguably serendipitous occasion that the ranks would be altered the way they were with his taking over the role of launching out the lifeboats. Fortune favors the brave, and that was exactly the caliber of man that he was. What we can find is that courage is not found in the absence of fear, but rather, in the ability to rise above it.

Lightoller would demonstrate all the exemplary qualities of a naval officer in his final moments aboard the ship. It was as if the young Lightoller was a beacon of hope for those struggling to cope with the situation. Somehow, he would be able to go so far as to provide the passengers with rested assurance, telling them that the life rafts were but, “A matter of a safety precaution, with a ship being but not a few miles away,” and they took him for his words, but the look on their faces made it obvious that they did not know what to make of his lofty promises.

And Lightoller did so as he reiterated the Captain’s final order to the very end. So thorough was Lightoller in his ways, that when John Jacob Astor IV, the world’s wealthiest man, asked to accompany his wife, he restated the Captain’s instruction, telling the millionaire, “No men are allowed in these boats until women are loaded first,” boldly turning him away.

But that was not his most exemplary act of courage. Eighty minutes had passed, and the Titanic had not fully completed her descent. Nevertheless, most of the lifeboats had been sent out, and there was nothing left for the naval officers to do but wait for the inevitable to occur. For Lightoller, his greatest stunt rivaled even the Captain’s, and came not long after the officers shook one another’s hands in their final, “Goodbye,” as the Captain gave them the order for, “Every man for themselves.”

Here, Colonel Gracie would order him to get in one of the remaining collapsible lifeboats, to which he replied, “Not damn likely.” To this end, he remained calm, cool, and collected, not to mention extremely dedicated and committed to performing his duties to the very end and seeing as many souls to safety as possible.

Destiny unfolds in the most intriguing and unlikely of ways. It was here at this juncture that Second Officer Charles Lightoller was in all bravery to jump from the bridge into the freezing waters below. That was precisely the moment that Geoffrey Archibald would find himself being sucked up by them as well.

It was both a spectacle and a miracle that neither of these two men was dragged away by the tremendous suction that the Titanic most of caused as it started to retreat downwards into the Atlantic. Be that as it may, it was a wonder that these two souls would surface and come to find each other in the same way, and for the same reason.

Geoffrey got caught under one of the last collapsible lifeboats, and Lightoller was the one that ended up on top of it. Lightoller was one for gallantry, valor, and great bravery. He would show this all throughout his life in the remarkable way that he would go on not only to survive Titanic but in his tours of the first world war as well as that of the second as well.

His heroism would earn him his own wartime submarine and eventually it would be what would make him a naval Commander. Perhaps it was his experience with Titanic that would give him the abilities necessary to act as a hero in both WWI and WWII, the most notable act being the way that he saved a down life craft in the battle of Dunkirk.

Nevertheless, whatever the case may be, the second that the then young Lightoller realized that Geoffrey was stuck underneath the lifeboat he plunged underneath the bitter cold waters and retrieved the journalist from beneath the vessel. Once they reached the surface, Lightoller clung to the edge of the vessel and hoisted the exhausted journalist onto its wide contents, just as he would years later. Maybe it was here that he learned the characteristics to do so.

Laying on his side atop the great white wooden container, Geoffrey watched as the Second Officer searched the endless waters for other persons to bring to safety. He felt such admiration for the man who even in the face of death, was so devoted to his cause that he would risk his own in the process. It instilled such a great sense of inspiration within him that it made him, no, it called him to act, and do the same, for he could not lay idly by and watch as Lightoller did these miraculous things.

Somehow, Lightoller’ s brave actions made a hero out of Geoffrey as well. It gave him the strength to roll over off the life-saving device back into the immense dark black abyss of water to assist in the matter. Together, the two men clung to the raft and paddled through the spirit-ridden sea, looking for any and all that they could pull atop of it as Lightoller had done with Geoffrey.

The task itself was perhaps the most challenging thing that Geoffrey had ever done in his life, but he aspired to emulate the dedication and commitment that Lightoller himself exerted that night. It was near pitch black in the immense deep of the ocean, and it made them have to resort to their other senses to do the job. That and the freezing waters rapidly took to making the limbs both frigid and numb to the point that it felt like a thousand needles piercing through to the core, and still the two endeavored to the end.

There was also an aspect to being the hero that had everything to do with feelings that could not be easily related. They say that the hero wears a thousand faces, and as he helped Lightoller that traumatic night, he started to see a little bit as to why that was. It was of an almost superhuman nature that they had to tune out everything that was distracting them.

The water was every bit as shocking as the state that they were in, but it was something that they had to overcome. And as they had to overcome the shock of it all, so to did they have to do in the case with the distractive element of the state of the Titanic itself, which at this point was very near a ninety-degree angle with the waters, her great three-story propellers fully revealed and sticking straight up towards the heavens with the ship inching ever slowly downwards. Not only that but there was a kind of callous of feeling that was needed. For there were thousands of bodies in the water with them, all of them screaming for a savior, and a device that could only hold twenty to thirty at top.