Survival Against the Odds

Liam O'Connor had made up his mind.

The first twenty-one years of his young life had not been easy. Growing up in Ireland certainly had its challenges. His father had struggled to make ends meet and support his family, and Liam had seen the effects of famine ravish his community.

He had started planning his future five years before, and knew that it lay beyond the vast Atlantic Ocean, in the Land of Promise, America.

Many of his friends had already emigrated there, being welcomed by the growing Irish communities in cities such as New York and Boston. Most of them had readily gained employment, with some rising to management positions and also careers in government.

He had completed an apprenticeship in carpentry, and was now qualified. He had now worked for a carpenter in his small town of Whitegate for three years, and had managed to save money towards his escape.

Now the day had come.

Thursday, April the 11th, 1912 dawned with a chilly, steady wind from the north-west blowing through the old cottages of Whitegate. Liam rose at 6:00am after a night of fitful sleep. His mind was racing, as he knew that this was the biggest day of his life. His future awaited.

After a small breakfast he bade a final goodbye to his parents, thanking them for all their support. He pledged to keep in contact, and embraced them, feeling his mother's tears on his shoulder.

Then he was on his way, catching a lift on a horse-drawn buggy with a few friends who were also Queenstown-bound. One the way he said goodbye to the majestic Roches Point Lighthouse, looking out to the distant horizon.

After an hour travelling on undulating country roads flanked by green meadows, the buggy approached the waterfront town. Overseeing it was the imposing St Colman's Cathedral, in a steep hill rising directly above the multistoried buildings on the wide waterfront promenade.

As Liam was Catholic, he and many of his fellow travelers that day attended the morning Mass at the cathedral. The sermon, given solemnly, was about trust in the Lord, as one ventured into the unknown. The hymn that struck him the most was "Eternal Father, Strong to Save", particularly its line "O hear us, when we cry to Thee, for those in peril on the sea". He wondered if it was a preview of his voyage.

After the Mass, Liam joined the throng of chatting immigrants heading down the hill to the offices of James Scott & Company, shipping agents, to purchase his ticket to board the America, a small one-funneled steamer that would ferry them to the Titanic, which was due to drop anchor in the outer harbor just before midday.

Due to its immense size, this amazing vessel was unable to be accommodated by Queenstown's pier facilities, and had to stop a way out, behind Spike Island, a relatively flat landmass which had a rather colourful history, involving incarnations as a monastery, a fort and a prison.

Liam chatted to fellow travelers in the queue, his attention caught by the flag of the White Star Line, a large white star emblazoned on a red background, flying on a towering flagpole above the agents' office.

Then they were in the building, and the din outside was replaced with the echo of the excited voices of third-class passengers, all eager to be on their way to their new lives. The clerks worked feverishly, refusing to be distracted by the noise.

Soon Liam approached the desk, handed over the bulk of his savings, and was given the ticket to board the Ship of Dreams, as the Titanic was called.

The throng then mulled across the wide White Star Wharf, with its offices and multicoloured bunting of signal flags flying furiously in the icy breeze. These were to show the gathered press that this was indeed a very special occasion, as the world's largest ocean liner would soon be putting Queenstown on the map.

The gangplank to the America beckoned, and soon Liam and his new comrades were on it, and on their way.

It was now noon, and the America embarked on its short trip across the slightly choppy straight, its twin paddle steamer wheels propelling it onward.

Liam was on the rear deck, joining many of the 123 men who left Queenstown that day, looking at the waterfront town for the last time. The long line of prominent waterfront buildings was becoming more distant, as was the majestic St Colman's Cathedral towering above them, with its beautiful rose window and skyward-pointing spire.

Then he drew his breath quickly, not because of the stiff northerly breeze, but because of what caught his attention...

The Ship of Dreams

The America rounded Spike Island, with its long, grey prison walls atop its grassy expanse, revealing the liner that had captured the imagination of the press and Liam's friends.

As they approached, he was captivated by her size, with her four enormous evenly-spaced funnels and masts towering above her decks.

He and his comrades could now see and hear the crowds on the Promenade Deck, with many of the passengers waving at them. He could sense the excitement, and eagerly awaited their arrival.

The din became louder, and before he knew it, they had pulled alongside her dark hull. Gazing upwards, he saw an expanse of metal and decks, reaching into the greying sky.

A gangway was extended towards an open hatch in her lower side, and the dream-seekers started embarking into the lower decks. Liam knew that, even if he wanted to, he could not turn back.

Entering the gangway, he glanced back and saw the press assembled aboard another paddle steamer, the PS Ireland, and could just hear the clicks of multiple camera shutters, capturing forever this historic moment.

Then he was through the hatch and inside, and, with his fellow travelers, was ushered along gleaming white-paneled halls towards his room. Entering it, he surveyed his new home for the next two days: a washbasin on the wall facing him and parallel bunks on either side. Each contained a basic mattress, blanket and pillow. His mother had packed a bedsheet and pillowcase, and he was proceeding to put these on when a solid, friendly voice behind him bellowed in a strong Irish accent: "That will be mine, Lad!"

He turned around, and was greeted by a rather sturdy, blond fellow in his early twenties. To Liam, he looked like he was a labourer, and wondered if he was among the many who had toiled long hours in the shipyards of Belfast, building this legendary vessel.

"Just joking! I am Patrick Murphy, and who would you be?"

Liam introduced himself, and was glad that he now had an onboard friend.

Soon after, they were joined by a lanky brown-haired lad from Belfast, by the name of William O'Sullivan, who was quite talkative. "You can call me Will", he said.

They were soon settled in, and Will suggested that they venture up onto the forward well deck to say goodbye to their homeland, perhaps for the last time. Liam and Patrick agreed, and they negotiated their way along white passageways and stairs leading upwards. They walked through an open metal door, and the stiff, cold sea breeze greeted them. There were many other third-class passengers here, and their excitement was palpable.

They headed towards the metal railing at the edge of the deck, and looked outwards. They could make out the distant harbor, a mile away, and with mixed feelings, bade farewell.

"Good riddance, Ireland, and Helloooo New York!" bellowed Will. Liam and Patrick bellowed in agreement, then their shouting was overcome by the raucous thunder of the Titanic's horn. Departure time was fast approaching.

Then it was 1:30pm, and with another monstrous blast of its horn, the Ship of Dreams was on its way.

As far as recreational facilities were concerned, the third-class passengers were not permitted in the ship's gymnasium or pool, as these were reserved for first-class passengers only. However, they had a large common area, the General Room, which contained a bar, tables and chairs and a space where a band could play dance music.

It wasn't long before the group discovered this, and plans were soon under way for the construction of an enormous Irish party. Will revealed that he played the Irish version of the guitar, the eight-stringed bouzouki: "It's just something I pick up sometimes", and his always travelled with him. He was keen to join in popular tunes, to get feet tapping.

They headed back to their room, and found that they now had a fourth room-mate, and tall, sandy -haired lad from Cork by the name of Patrick (Pat) O'Brien. He was also a musician, with his violin ("fiddle") accompanying him on his voyage.

The Titanic was now well into its journey west, accompanied by steady icy winds. The breeze and cold (about 10 degrees celsius), ushered those on deck indoors.

The afternoon passed quickly, the group involved in a rousing conversation about the promised land to the west, and their plans.

Before they knew it, dinnertime had arrived, and they made their way to the nearer of the two dining rooms, known as saloons. These were on F Deck, two decks below the 1st class dining room.

Upon entering, they were greeted by a smoky, chatty atmosphere, with guests seated side by side at parallel tables. The fare tonight was vegetable stew, and by the appreciative comments from those seated, was enjoyed, and most likely a class above what they were used to.

Then off to the General Room it was, to meet others and plan tomorrow night's party.

After meeting many others and hearing many stories of hope, they settled into their bunks. It had been a day of high adventure, with some travelling considerable distances to meet this amazing ship and travel to their new lives.

The 12th of April

The next day dawned, with blue skies, which became increasingly grey, from a weak front approaching the Titanic, as it sliced through the slightly choppy North Atlantic waters. Many passengers braved the chilly temperature to stroll on the various decks.

After a delicious breakfast of hearty oatmeal porridge and milk in the dining room, Liam and his new friends headed to the poop deck, near the stern, to contemplate life, and finalise plans for that night's party. Relaxing, they gazed out to the endless North Atlantic, adorned in a blue-grey, with the ship's wake stretching out in front of them.

They mused that it was a welcome relief to not have to work, at least for these few days. Patrick revealed that he had indeed been one of the many workers who had built this ship, as well as its sister, the Olympic, in the Belfast shipyards. Liam and the others listened to his tales, dumbfounded, as he regaled stories of catastrophic workplace accidents, resulting in the loss of limbs and also of deaths.

They were so engrossed that they almost did not hear the lunchtime bell. Soon afterwards, they were tucking into cuisine including roast beef and brown gravy, boiled green beans and rice and prunes for dessert. They could not believe how full they were afterwards.

After lunch they found themselves in the General Room, and before they knew it, they were joining lively games of poker and five-card draw, with poker-faced opponents eyeing each other off over tightly-held supposedly winning hands. Will and Pat found that there were others proficient on Irish instruments, and the Steerage Shipboard Folk Orchestra was born.

Then they heard the now-familiar dinnertime bell, and their journey to the saloon began.

After a delicious meal of rabbit pie and baked potatoes, they headed back to the General Room, to find that it was now filling with eager revelers. Unlike the saloons, both men and women could mix in this common area.

They were greeted by the haze of cigarette smoke and the smell of beer. Like before, they settled down to cards, interspersed with occasional arm wrestles. Whisky and beer flowed freely, and conversation became raucous and, with some, slurred.

Will and Pat then gripped their instruments, joined their musical brothers in arms and were soon leading a wild series of Irish jigs, with people of all ages and sizes dancing in the cleared area in the middle of the room.

The music became faster, and the dancing more frenetic, interspersed by the occasional clatter of chairs (and their occupants) falling backwards as brains absorbed multiples beers, whiskies and a combination of the two.

Liam became engrossed in his game of Poker, with aces and kings becoming his close friends. Patrick approached him, with a young lassie by his side - "This is Maggie", he said. "Glad to meet you." said Liam, and added, "Don't get up to any mischief, you two". Seeing the grins on both their faces, he then went back to the poker game, his stash increasing by the hand.

Early the next morning, the three (Liam, Pat and Will), hauled themselves back to their room, with Patrick joining them soon after.

A good time was had by all.

The 13th of April

The four new friends were woken by the breakfast bell, and with heavy heads, headed to the saloon for a less challenging breakfast of bread and butter. Fried tripe and onions beckoned, but their bellies would not allow it.

Then back to the poop deck, to relax and recover, with the mild afternoon temperature (about 15 degrees Celsius) and slight sea breeze aiding this.

The remainder of the day passed uneventfully, with the four musing about the future, and about how amazing this ship was. They did not plan another Irish party in the General Room that night - maybe on Sunday night ...

Sunday, the 14th of April

The day dawned bleak and grey, as the mighty ship approached another weak front, with the cold winds switching to northwest at twenty knots.

After another hearty breakfast in the saloon, the four merry friends decided that the forward well deck, near the bow, would be the place where they would spend the day. It gave them a panoramic view over both sides of the ship, flanked only by the ship's towering bridge behind them.

Gazing upward, they occasionally spied the Captain, Edward Smith, and his officers on the open bridge areas, surveying the endless expanse of ocean ahead.

Patrick asked, "I'm sure that we have sped up - can you feel it too?" The others were not sure, but the spray of water below the bow as the ship sliced through the small waves seemed to be larger than when they had seen it days before.

As the day progressed, the clouds disappeared, and blue sky stretched in all directions. This brought many people on deck for strolls, and the group glimpsed some of the First Class passengers on the upper decks, the women with parasols, arm in arm with their men.

Wondering what life would be like as a member of the upper class, the four went back to the saloon for a lunch, which featured bouillon soup and again, prunes and rice for dessert.

After their meal, the friends journeyed back to the now-familiar General Room. Liam was keen to add to his poker stash, and Patrick to becoming re-acquainted with Maggie, whom he had been unable to locate the previous day.

Thus they spent the afternoon.

It was now 5:50pm, and dinnertime was approaching. Liam, Will and Pat, engrossed in a game of five-card draw, noticed a slight shift in the ship's momentum. Unknown to them, Captain Smith, in his bridge high above, had received warnings regarding icebergs in the area, and had made a small change in the Titanic's direction, heading slightly south.

Soon afterwards, the dinner bell began its welcome toll, and the group made their way towards the saloon. Their dinner was again very satisfying: rabbit pie with baked potatoes, followed by Swedish bread and tea.

Their conversation was about how much better life would be in America, and they made a pact to keep in contact, no matter where they ended up living.

After dinner, they returned to the General Room for more card-inspired entertainment. A fellow with rather dexterous fingers was playing a jig on the piano, and friendly voices were engrossed in conversation.

It was now 9:40pm, and a ship by the name of the Mesaba sends a wireless warning to the Titanic to beware of an icefield containing pack ice and many large icebergs. Unfortunately, this message is ignored by wireless operator Jack Phillips, who is preoccupied with the transmission of a large volume of passengers' personal messages. He does not pass this warning onto Captain Smith.

10:00pm had now approached, and the group decided that they would return to their room. They were unaware that, far above, lookouts Frederick Fleet and Reginald Lee were starting their shift in the crowsnest, situated on the forward mast, far above the forward well deck. They were also unaware that the two were unable to locate the crowsnest's binoculars, essential to scanning the dark sea ahead for pack ice and, more importantly, icebergs. Instead, they relied on their eyes, and their scanning was hampered by how calm the sea had become, making sighting of icebergs difficult, as there would be no water breaking at their bases.

As the friends relaxed in their room, some reading books, another ice warning was received, this time from the nearby Californian. It informed the Titanic that they were stuck, surrounded by ice. Phillips responded by telling them to shut up, as he was busy communicating with a wireless station in Newfoundland, Canada.

It was now 11:35pm, and Will and Pat were now asleep. Liam was awake, and wondered where Patrick was - he had not seen him since after lunch, when he had informed his friends that he was Maggie-bound.

Unknown to them, the lookout Fleet in the crowsnest had spied a large white object in the Titanic's path, and as they approached it, to their horror saw that it was a giant iceberg. He then frantically called the bridge. First Officer William Murdoch then orders that the ship be immediately turned "hard-a-starboard" (left) to navigate around it, and that the engines be stopped, then reversed. The doors on the below-deck supposedly watertight compartments are then closed as a precaution against flooding. All on the bridge held their breaths as the massive vessel slowly veered to the left, far too slowly for comfort.

The Titanic approached the ice mountain, and, to the relief of many, including some on the forward well deck, navigated to its left, averting a frontal collision.

Unfortunately, icebergs have most of their mass below the waterline, and a protruding part of this one scraped against the ship's right side as it went past, puncturing it with hundreds of holes and caving in bulkheads.

Captain Smith had now arrived at the bridge, and was told that the Titanic has struck an iceberg, and that the ship's mailroom was now flooded and at least five of the compartments had water entering them - the Titanic was built to remain afloat with at most four compartments flooded.

The designer of the Titanic, Thomas Andrews, had also arrived at the bridge, and informed the Captain and officers there of the above, and that the Titanic would sink in the next one to two hours.

Below deck, Liam was the first of the group to sense that something was not right. Lying on his bunk, he felt the ship shudder as the iceberg ripped into its side, and not long afterwards noticed that water was seeping under the room's door. "Wake up!" he yelled to Will and Pat, and they slowly stirred, then jolted awake as they saw more and more water entering.

"We're out of here" shouted Pat, and grabbing their bags and life preservers from the room, they entered the white corridor outside. There were other third-class passengers emerging from their rooms, but the group noticed that there was a distinct lack of urgency, considering that water was entering living quarters. There were also no White Star Line staff present to offer an explanation.

Looking back, they saw that the water was now covering the passageway behind them. Out of nowhere, a group of rats emerged and scampered along the dry part of the passage. "That way!" Will said, and they followed him, and the rats.

They came to a stairway on the left of the long passage, leading upwards to the next deck. They clambered up it, onto the next deck, and heard voices.

There was a large group of men, women and children, all from third class, gathered on a staircase leading upward to the next deck, which was the boat deck. Liam looked upward, past those gathered, and saw that access to this deck was barred by a locked gateway, beyond which a sailor was shouting that third-class passengers were forbidden from entering the boat deck. Angry passengers were yelling back at him, demanding that the gate be opened, and that there were women and children here. It was a tense stalemate.

The trio then went back down to the passage and encountering the same scene at several other stairwells, negotiated their way down endless gleaming white third-class passageways until they finally arrived at a non-barred stairway leading up to the aft starboard boat deck.

They were free at last!

Before they knew it, they were on the boat deck, and a scene of commotion greeted them. The night air was very chilly, and people were milling around the departing lifeboats, which were being lowered chaotically into the sill, freezing ocean far below. What struck Liam was the lack of order. White Star Line staff were attempting to herd passengers into the boats, shouting "Women and children only!"

The trio knew that they had arrived late in these proceedings, and their only chance for survival was to split up and try to utilise the chaotic scene to try and sneak onto a boat.

Shivering, Liam reached into his bag and pulled out his thick coat, which he was glad he had packed, and put it on.

They then parted ways, and Liam spotted a nearby boat, which was being hastily boarded. Keeping his head low, he ducked between a surging crowd of women and children, and clambered on board, sitting in its middle. Just as the vessel was being lowered, an assertive voice shouted at him to get out. He ignored it, staring straight ahead. Then he felt an enormous hand on his shoulder, and he was yanked out, falling hard onto the deck.

Climbing to his feet, he proceeded to the forward part of the Titanic, along the way seeing another lifeboat being lowered into the water. He did not approach this one.

Rounding a cabin building, he was now on the forward deck, where two collapsible lifeboats were being made ready for launching. A White Star Line officer, brandishing a revolver, was warning off any who attempted to board them.

Before he knew it, two men then rushed out from the crowd surrounding the boats, attempting to board the boat. They were both shot by the officer, one dying instantly and the other wounded, unsuccessfully attempting to rise to his feet.

Liam then heard another shot, and glancing across at the scene saw the officer lying on the deck - he assumed that he had shot himself.

He then saw his opportunity, and with six other men, rushed at the boat and attempted to release it from its supporting ropes. Unfortunately, it had become entangled in the support cables of the first towering funnel, and was stuck.

The forward half of the Titanic was rapidly filling with water, which was now inundating the forward deck. The bow now rapidly sank, and the surge of water freed the lifeboat, which floated away freely. Liam jumped into the water, feeling its icy fingers grab him from all directions. The only thing he could think about was making it to the lifeboat.

With his life preserver fastened over his coat, he struggled through the dark frigid water, and eventually climbed on board.

There were six other men aboard the small craft, and, knowing that the gigantic sinking ship nearby would soon threaten to drag them down with it, they proceeded to row away.

One at a safe distance, they surveyed a scene that they would not forget for the remainder of their lives. The Titanic was now at a very steep angle, her bow now deep beneath the icy North Atlantic, and there were many frantic passengers darting about, with many making their way towards the stern, which was now rising higher and higher out of the water. Many were also jumping into the water, and swimming away from the scene.

The stern was now rising skyward, and, with a mighty crack, all the ship's lights went out, leaving the scene in darkness. The sounds of shouting and screams echoed across the still water towards where Liam's boat, and the rest of the lifeboat fleet, was.

Then a massive crash assaulted his ears, as the ship, the weight of its water-filled forward half unbearable, cracked in two, with the front half disappearing below the dark water. This release of this weight then enabled the rear half to crash back upright, a temporary respite to those aboard it.

This was only temporary, as it soon filled with water, and with the now-submerged forward section still attached, soon again rose out of the water, again pointing skyward.

Liam could see many clinging to whatever they could as the rear section then began its downwards journey, with some no longer being able to hold on and hurtling downwards into the still, frigid ocean.

Downward the remaining part of this great liner went, its water-filled hull groaning, until it disappeared, on its final journey towards its resting place far, far below.

Liam and his fellow lifeboat occupants, in all the vessels, were then the witnesses of a tragic scene - there were 1503 people aboard Titanic who did not make it onto a lifeboat, and 705 in the lifeboats - those in the freezing water were screaming and shouting, before succumbing to the elements.

The sailors in charge of the lifeboats then directed that they row away from the scene, with only one returning to rescue those who were still alive - only six were rescued from an icy death.

Liam became increasingly tired, and was unconscious when he and the rest of the survivors were rescued by the steamer RMS Carpathia four hours and thirty minutes later. He was carried to a cabin.

Conclusion

Liam did make it to America, and the first thing he did was write to his parents to let them know that he was safe.

Although he made many enquiries, he never found out what happened to Patrick, Will and Pat.

He gained employment as a carpenter, and, in 1917 was married to an Englishwoman.

He had achieved his dream, something many of his countrymen aboard the Titanic could not.

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Sources:

Eugene Patrick Daly (his experience inspired my story, although it is not about him): encyclopedia-titanica.org

The Irish who lived and died on the Titanic: irishcentral.com

How Second- and Third-Class Passengers Dined on the Titanic: dummies.com

Timeline of the Titanic’s Final Hours: britannica.com