Escape From Disaster

She was a small girl, Alana was, and in desperate need of relief. She knew the chance was now, and she had to go with nothing but the clothes on her back, a small bag of money she had somehow squirreled away for just such an occasion, and a tiny dagger tucked in her bootie for protection. If she was to somehow get lucky and board the Titanic, she would need to use all her wits, charm, and skill.

Alana Trebuchet was a twenty-year-old aspiring dancer with abusive family life, including her instructor- who only wanted to get in her bloomers, had he a ghost of a chance. She was tired of the chaos and stress, but the hard work didn't bother her. Her dream was to get to New York and end up on Broadway in some great show. She just had to get on that ship and hide. It shouldn't be so hard, she was a slip of a girl, and the ship was massive.

On that morning, in 1912, before her mum woke, yet after her da went off to the factory, she dressed silently in the gloomy two-bedroom house. Being an only child was an advantage in her case; no one to talk her out of it like a caring sibling would. When she was ready, she quietly left the house and snuck down to the harbor. She had made sure to dress in dark clothes so she would not stick out like a sore thumb. She was so sure her mum wouldn't notice her absence for hours, since the night before, she had tipped back the bottle quite a bit. With any luck, she'd sleep it off.

She had devised a plan to walk on the ship like any other traveler, somehow slip past the harbormaster, and go search for a good place to hide. Maybe in the galley or cloakroom, maybe in the supply closet, or hopefully, the cargo area. It sounded good in theory, now she really had to put the plan into action. Her heart was pounding. Her nerves were already shaken, but this was her only chance. Trying not to look conspicuous, she walked on behind a huge woman wearing a wide and flowing skirt. She pulled her derby low over her eyes and tried to keep a low profile.

As the flow of human traffic moved up the gang walk, she steeled herself for the lady to be asked for her ticket, then took the opportunity to sidle next to a tall man and darted around him when the harbormaster was looking the other way. Now aboard the ship, she quickly walked away, her short, tiny stature aiding her in the throng of elaborately dressed tourists eager to get the show on the road, so to speak. Soon she was able to duck through the first door she came to was a stairwell. She headed down, looking for the Orlop Deck which housed the cargo. She had no idea how she would find it, she hoped for signs or a deckhand to show her the way. Not that she trusted anyone not to rat her out, but maybe she would get lucky if she presented herself as a lost passenger looking for her luggage. She could lie on the spot if necessary, she had to develop that skill to stay out of trouble long ago.

Where she ended up was the lower deck, somehow finding herself on the squash court. Well, this would not work, so she shimmied along the closest wall until she came to another door. This one opened into the mailroom, which might be the perfect hiding place until they got moving. Then she would figure out where the cargo hold was and make her way down there. For now, she found a narrow space behind a tower of packages and settled in. She figured it would be another half hour or so before the ship set sail, maybe longer. Her nerves settled and she sat in a corner and waited. Before long, she fell asleep from exhaustion and nervousness. When she woke, she could hear the crowds above, already celebrating the fact that the ship was on her way.

Alana wondered if she should stay here in this tiny, cramped place, or get moving again and try to find her destination. She took a chance and crept to the edge of the stack of packages and looked around the post office. Wait! There were drawings on the wall next to the mail sorting machine. Stealthily, she scooted along and around the packages until she could make them out. To her surprise, one was of the layout of the ship! She located her position in the post office and found the stairwell she needed to lead her to the cargo area. It would be tricky, but she had to chance it. She was listening hard for voices or movement as she slowly made her way through the mailroom to the other door leading out. Peeking out of it, the coast was clear, so slipping quietly through the door, she tip-toed down the corridor to the necessary stairwell.

Oh no, hearing voices approaching, she ducked behind a barrel in the corridor, until the voices disappeared, then darted to the stairwell. There, she flattened herself against the wall and crept down the stairs, heart beating out of her chest. She kept her right hand down close to her bootie, as she sidled along the walls. Finally, encountering no one else, she opened the next door she came to and came face to face with a deckhand. She thought she might faint, but bravely said, "Oh, excuse me, sir." He mumbled something under his breath as he was on a mission and couldn't be bothered to stop and inquire what she was doing there. My, she was lucky! Not looking back, she descended the stairs and found herself in the cargo hold. Finally! But wait, this might not be the ideal place right now, as the shipmates were still loading the cargo!

What to do? She bit her lip and decided to take another chance she would not be discovered as she hunkered down and skirted between boxes and crates looking for a hiding place. It was dark, which was to her advantage, but now it dawned on her that she had made no provisions for food, she had no idea how she would get off the ship once they arrived in New York, and the little money she did bring, she would try to keep private so she could find cheap housing once she got to the city. No time for that now, however, she must find a spot to hide for a while. She felt her way to the back of the giant space holding the luggage and other cargo, finally deciding on a dark corner behind a humongous crate holding who knew what, a piano maybe? These people aboard were very rich, as the Titanic had strict rules about the class of people allowed to travel this maiden cruise.

Alana curled into a ball on the floor and contemplated her next move and tried to forget her troubled past. She could not for the life of her understand why her parents treated their only daughter not like a princess, but more like their slave. From the time she could reach the sink with a stepstool, she was expected to wash the dishes, help clean the floor, and her mum taught her to cook the basic meals, Alana figured that was in case she was too drunk to do it herself. Her father worked at the factory and expected her mum and herself to be at his beck and call the minute he got home. It was a rough life, but Alana muddled through, dreaming her big dreams to keep her motivated during the darkest days. They never hugged her, or treated her like she mattered or had an opinion, she did her chores, went to school, came home, and did more chores, then her homework and bed. If she was lucky, she made it through a day without physical abuse, but verbal was bad enough. Her parents didn't show much love for each other either, it was a pretty miserable existence.

She fell asleep again for a time and when she woke, it was to the sound of tweeting, coming from a birdcage somewhere nearby. The cargo had been loaded and hearing no voices, she moved from her hiding place and went to search out the bird. It was a blue parakeet, happily swinging and singing to the motion of the sea. Well, at least she would have some company of sorts, that might help her pass the time. Right now, as she noted the bird had plenty of treats in his cage, her stomach rumbled and she wondered again if and how she might get a scrap to eat. She would have to make her way to the galley, or one of the many restaurants and see if she could sneak in and steal something small she could hide in her pockets. She could live on bread and water if she could just manage that for the four-day trip. She could not foresee the imminent danger the ship was headed toward, yet she noticed the lifeboats as she made her way along the ship's railing looking for another stairwell to climb.

Again, her childlike stature made it simple to blend in with other passengers, so she proceeded to the lower deck where the third-class passengers were housed and looked for their dining area. She decided the best way was to hold herself up properly and act as though she belonged like everyone else. Surely there were too many people aboard that she would not be questioned right away. However, her dark, meager clothing was a hindrance among all of these finely dressed guests. She might stick out more than she feared, so she tried to be quick and sneaky. Her plan was to snatch something left behind by a diner before the busboys cleaned the table. She ducked into a back booth and bided her time, trying to hide beneath her hat and look invisible. She quickly made up a story in case she was approached and watched from the shadows as hungry passengers happily noshed on some kind of stew with rolls on the side. If she was lucky, she might be able to slip into an abandoned booth, eat the leftovers or nab a crust of bread and take it back to her hiding place.

As luck would have it, a family of four was making like they were leaving she saw beneath the brim of her hat, so she waited while holding her breath, and then the mistress saw her sitting alone. She excused herself from her family and with horror, Alana saw her heading toward her. "Are you lost, child?" the woman asked her. "Oh, no Ma'am," she answered, "I'm waiting for my mum to come back from the washroom. Then we're going to eat." The lady looked down at her drab blouse and skirt as if to say, 'likely story', but she curtsied and turned on her heel. Alana blew out her breath and crept behind her, snatched some bread from the table, and whipped back around to run back in the direction she came.

Stuffing the bread in her pocket as she ran, she saw someone approaching from the opposite direction and at the same time, saw the lady's room. Ducking deftly through the door, she ran into a stall and sat on the commode while her heart slowed down. She decided to use the facilities since she was there and then washed her hands and grabbed the handle to the door. She peeked out and saw a handsome man dressed in a white uniform waiting in the hallway. She was doomed. Should she stay in the restroom or take her chances and tell him a new lie? She ran back into the stall and sat to think. Maybe if she waited a few minutes, he’d be gone when she decided to leave.

No such luck, as it turned out. She couldn’t help noticing again how stunning the man looked as he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed like he had all the time in the world to wait her out. It was no use. She slowly entered the hallway, not looking up, and tried to mumble something and act as if he wasn’t there. Suddenly, hands were on her shoulder, steering her back to the booth she just left and gently pushing her down to sit. He sat opposite her and said, “Excuse me, young lady, can I inquire as to what you think you are doing here?” Alana lifted her eyes to meet his and the lie she had ready on her tongue fell to the pit of her stomach. He was the most gorgeous man she ever saw, and…he was the captain! She found herself mute, numb, and yet tingly all over. She had to think of something to say before he threw her overboard, but what could she?

“I’m sorry sir, but I just had to get on this ship. It was my only chance to escape.“ “Well, now I’m intrigued,” he said “but we have strict regulations against stowaways. I’m afraid I must put you in the brig.” The brig? Wasn‘t that like jail? “Oh, sir, please don’t do that! Is there nothing else you can do? I am quiet, I don’t eat much, can’t I just go back to my hiding place? The captain replied, “No, I simply cannot allow it, it’s too dangerous for the both of us. You will get proper care and meals in the brig until we reach our destination and I turn you over to the authorities. Come along now.” Alana tried to think, but the man seemed kind, and he was so handsome that she hoped he would take pity on her, and as he said, at least she would eat. She made up her mind not to fight it, maybe she would devise a new plan while in the brig because she simply had to escape him once they got to New York.

Alana followed the captain, whose name was Captain Smythe-down numerous hallways, stairwells, and corridors until they came to a huge, thick, locked door. Captain Smythe produced a set of keys, looking down at her dramatically, and they entered a room with two small cells. ‘This is the brig?’ thought Alana, instantly suspicious. She nervously asked him if this was the brig, to which the captain answered, “No, it’s a holding room.” Alana felt a sort of relief that she wouldn’t be put with a bunch of drunk criminals. “You will stay here until we dock in New York. You should be quite comfortable, though lonely for a while. I will have someone bring you some dinner shortly.”

As Alana sat on the hard cot pondering her situation, she heard someone approaching and a key turning in the lock made her stiffen in anticipation. It was another steward of some kind, also handsome, bringing her a tray of food with a cup of coffee. She relaxed but didn’t move. He tipped his hat and said, “Good day, Miss.” Then he backed out and left her alone. As soon as she was sure he was gone, she scrambled from the cot, grabbed the tray, and took it back to sit and eat the first real meal she’d had since leaving home. The events of the day had worn her to a frazzle, it was now nighttime, and she ate quickly and soon curled up on her cot. She dreamed of arriving in New York, getting lost in the crowd upon disembarking the ship, and somehow escaping her fate. Of course, that wasn’t the captain’s plan.

The ship was so smooth, she would have sworn she was home in her own bed until she woke up to the sound of a key in the lock again around midnight. It was Captain Smythe again, coming to check on his prisoner. He surprised her by taking a seat across from her on the available bench and asking her to tell him her story. Since rethinking her situation, she really didn’t know where to start, it all seemed so silly now. She told him about her dream instead, of getting to New York and becoming a famous Broadway dancer and star, and how she felt her parents would never have let her go because they were…overprotective. For whatever reason, she felt strange telling this man how abusive her childhood had been, what a drunk her mother was, and how her father did nothing but work and demand perfection when he was home. She also said she had to sneak aboard because of course, she could never have afforded a ticket. The captain actually listened to her plight, managing to look sympathetic, and said he’d see her again tomorrow night, so get some rest.

Alana had so many questions, yet kept her mouth shut, nodding at his back as he left her cell. When she woke again, it was evidently morning, because the steward was setting a tray in her cell, tipping his hat and saying, “Morning, Miss. The Captain has asked me to also give you this.” He handed her a small book to her surprise. “Thank you, sir. Tell him I appreciate it.” Alana smiled and the steward smiled a dazzling white smile back. “I will. Good day, Miss.” This time Alana ate slowly and looked through the book, happy to have something to do besides stare at the four walls. The book was The Swiss Family Robinson, a brand new book! Alana finished eating, brought her coffee to the cot, and sat against the wall to read. She was four chapters in when the key turned in the lock again.

It was someone from the kitchen staff. “The captain says if you pull KP duty with me every day until we arrive in New York, he will not turn you over to the authorities. ”Alana’s eyes went wide. “Really??” she asked him. “Yes! Now make up your mind and follow me if you’re coming, we are very busy. You must do whatever I tell you or the deal will be off.“ Without hesitation, Alana was on her feet, following the skinny man out of the cell and down the long corridor. “Can you tell me what I’ll be doing, sir?” “Don’t call me sir, my name is Sam, probably peeling potatoes and washing dishes.” She thought darkly that was just the sorts of jobs she just escaped from but said nothing. If this was her chance, she had to take it. When they got to the massive kitchen, Sam tossed her an apron and a paring knife and sat her in front of a mountain of potatoes. “Toss the peeled ones in the bin and the peels in the trash. Get busy, I will come to get you when it’s time to switch to dishes.“

Alana said nothing but smiled and sat down to get started. Sam turned on his heel with a nod and headed back to his business, whatever that was. She couldn’t believe her luck, really. She was going to make it, she might realize her dream after all. All she had to do was work hard, prove herself worthy, and the captain would let her go?! She would do whatever she was asked and be happy about it. She would prefer the dishes at this point, she abhorred peeling potatoes. After about ten of them, her hands felt disgusting, gritty, and slimy at the same time. She worked for what felt like hours yet made only a small dent in the mountain of potatoes, but the bin was nearly full. Just when she thought she couldn’t peel another, Sam appeared and motioned for her to follow him. Instead of going straight to the dishes, however, he lead her to a tiny table, set with a plate of food and a glass of milk. Falling into the chair, she ate like it was her last meal.

When she ate every bite and drank all the milk, Sam lead her to a new mountain. Dishes, pots, pans, and silverware waited on a huge counter next to an industrial-sized sink. She dove in, energized by the food. She had to stand on a stool, just like in her childhood, to reach the sink. She was organized and had the chore done in a couple of hours. Sam lead her back to her cell, where she fell onto her cot, falling asleep immediately. No visit from the captain woke her at midnight, and after breakfast the next morning, she got to read a couple of hours before Sam came to get her. She had different jobs on this day, but everything went as well as the day before. The routine repeated until the fourth day at sea, the day they were supposed to arrive in New York. When Sam came to get her, she lifted her tired body off the cot and let herself be dragged to the kitchen. Again she sat on the stool to start peeling potatoes when the impossible happened.

Not understanding why Alana was propelled headlong into the mountain of potatoes. Her mind spun, had someone pushed her off her stool? She heard chaos coming from the kitchen then, clanging and crashing of utensils, and glasses, while crew members yelled at each other. She tried to get up, but the ship was shuddering after the initial crash, and loud alarm bells were going off along with a horrid scraping sound. As she slid to the floor, she rolled to a seated position and sat blinking as she tried to discern what just happened. Sam exploded through the galley door and helped her to her feet, hollering above the din, “We have to get out of here! The ship has struck something.” Alana still did not understand what was happening, yet allowed herself to be led out of the kitchen, up the stairwell, until they were on the lower deck. They ran to the ship’s railing along with a crowd of others to see that indeed, there was a massive block of ice they seemed to be trying to inch past. Thinking she would be safest back in her cell until he received further instruction, Sam headed in that direction, when an announcement was heard in the air around them.

“Return to quarters!” the announcement repeated. Even Sam was confused by this but did as he was told. People were scrambling in every direction making movement difficult, but Sam kept a firm grip on Alana’s shoulders as he steered her back to her cell. “I’m scared, Sam,” Alana yelled above the noise, and Sam said, “I know, I am as well. We seem to have struck an iceberg, but I’m sure the captain will get us free very soon.” He didn’t believe this himself but tried to calm Alana as he moved her along. The ship was still shuddering as they scraped by the huge boulder of ice, but soon they made it back to her cell. Sam had just reached the door when the First Mate came barreling into the room shouting, “No! We have instructions to head to the lifeboats!” Sam‘s face drained all of color then and Alana become more than alarmed at that. “What’s wrong, Sam?” He looked at her and said, “I don’t think there are nearly enough lifeboats, and I can’t swim!” Alana screamed, “We must try, Sam!” They followed the First Mate as he lead them to one of the lifeboat stations. The ship’s crew were working fast to lower the vessels as the panicked passengers crowded around them. Alana was sure they would be crushed by the throng of bodies pushing and shoving to be first in line.

The task seemed to take hours, but finally, Alana found herself in the bottom center of a lifeboat. She’d been fitted with a life jacket like all the other passengers and now was struggling to get to somewhere she could hold on while the boat was tossed about on the sea. People were screaming and crying, shouting orders and hands grabbed her small frame and pulled her onto a seat. With all the confusion going on, she still had the presence of mind to wonder how she would get her pardon without the captain’s word since he was nowhere to be seen. It was then she realized there were many other lifeboats in the water, yet she didn’t see him in any of them. For now, she sat freezing and shivering like everyone else, scared to death and wondering how would they make it to New York now? Still, she knew she was yet again lucky to have made it onto a lifeboat, as she looked up at the massive ship and saw many people still screaming and trying to reach safety. Before long, the boats were moving slowly through the fog, away from the ship. She heard the screams, alarms, and the groaning of the ship as it sank in her nightmares for years after that.

For three hours they floated through ice chunks, dead bodies, and debris. They were hungry, freezing, and scared to death that they would never make it.

Then they saw some lights through the fog. It was another ship, the Carpathia, Alana would soon learn. They were being rescued! Would it be discovered that Alana was a fugitive, or could they not notice or care in the rush to save everyone from this icy sea? She hoped and prayed as one by one they were lifted to safety from the lifeboat. They were given blankets and something warm to drink, as well as shelter in some passenger cabins. No one said a word or questioned why she was there. She thanked her lucky stars once again and hoped when they got to New York, she could simply slip away unnoticed. She had no plan, however, and so for the next three days, she tried to get to know those around her and see if anyone might take her in at least temporarily. She heard a few women talking amongst themselves about what they planned when they got to New York. She had to come up with another story and quick! For the most part, she stayed quiet and listened to see who she might convince to help her.

On the night the Carpathia arrived at Pier 54, it was pouring rain and a throng of people waited for loved ones on the dock. As people rushed off the ship, they met several organizations that had been set up to provide relief, including The Women's Relief Committee. Alana followed a group that seemed to know where they were going, so she would not draw attention or be apprehended by law enforcement. But everyone seemed to be in a state of panic or excitement and no one noticed the drab little girl as she made her way off the ship and looked for shelter. She still wore the blanket around her shoulders and had her cap pulled low to hide her face. Some ladies under a huge umbrella were yelling for anyone needing transportation to come to them. The small crowd she had been following headed in that direction and Alana followed them. As the committee asked questions of the ladies, Alana listened and acted as if she belonged. She was told to board a bus with the others and did so. Once seated, she asked the nearest person where she was headed and if she minded her tagging along. She explained that she'd been separated from her family in the rush to get to the lifeboat, and had no place to go, but as soon as she could, she would find work and be out on her own.

The woman looked at her, noting her drab clothes, and told her she was headed to a relative's house in Queen's. She would have to ask permission of course, but considering what they had all just been through, did not think she would mind. Alana thanked her profusely and started to cry, not believing her good fortune. They talked for the rest of the journey to Queen's, learning what they could about each other and Alana shared her dream of becoming a famous dancer. The woman she met was named Violet and said she had connections in acting. She offered to help her get work as soon as possible if she was allowed to stay with her and her sister, that was. Relief flooded through Alana, she must have a guardian angel watching over her! She told Violet she would do whatever was necessary to stay in her sister's home, wash clothes, cook meals, whatever she needed. She really appreciated the offer and Violet seemed to understand. She looked to be in her thirties and was well dressed. Alana had picked the right person to make a connection to when it counted. She sat back against the seat and thought of everything they had just survived. She had no idea how lucky she really was, but she did know she felt grateful at that moment. They were both still cold and exhausted so before long, each was asleep and had to be roused when they arrived in Queens.

AFTERWARD

Alana was taken in by Violet's sister Hannah who advised her not to tell her parents right away. She had almost forgotten she was still a fugitive, so that might have led to her capture. Instead, she worked for the sisters for years to come, never making it to Broadway, but living a comfortable life. It was good enough to have survived.

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