God Save the Queen
April 19, 1912:
Tugs chugged out toward New York Harbor to intercept the great behemoth liner. Captain Edward John Smith, the so called "Millionaire's Captain," looked out from the wing bridge of the Royal Mail Steamer Titanic. Wounded from a collision with an iceberg five days earlier, Titanic had lived up to her title of the ship "God Himself could not sink." Smith saw news reporters on board the tugs and sighed inwardly. He hated reporters. He was just glad he was retiring when he returned to England. He would buy a country home with his wife and daughter, and never, ever have to talk to reporters again.
J. Bruce Ismay, Managing Director of the White Star Line, on the other hand, was beaming.
"Ah, excellent. The tugs are bringing reporters. We are going to be famous, you and I. What did I tell you? Retire with a bang, eh, E.J." Ismay had told Smith that the very Sunday they had hit the iceberg. He had convinced Smith to increase speed to make New York on Wednesday, April 17. The folly of that had nearly destroyed the ship, and now they were two days late. That, of course, no longer mattered. Titanic had survived hitting an iceberg and the reputation of both herself and her sister ship, Olympic, had soared. White Star would beat all competition the third sister, Gigantic, was launched in two years. Smith could see Ismay wished to say something, and he knew what it was going to be.
"So, Captain, or should I say Commodore Smith, what do you say about postponing your retirement a couple of years, take Gigantic out? She's going to be even larger than this ship." Smith shook his head. "I think not." Ismay looked incredulously at his senior most commander. "Come now, E.J. I would pay you double, triple, what I do now. Instead of a small country villa, how about a plantation, with horses for your daughter. She would absolutely love it, I know." And just like that, Commodore Edward John Smith realized he would not be retiring any time soon.
April 19, 1912:
Tugs chugged out toward New York Harbor to intercept the great behemoth liner. Captain Edward John Smith, the so called "Millionaire's Captain," looked out from the wing bridge of the Royal Mail Steamer Titanic. Wounded from a collision with an iceberg five days earlier, Titanic had lived up to her title of the ship "God Himself could not sink." Smith saw news reporters on board the tugs and sighed inwardly. He hated reporters. He was just glad he was retiring when he returned to England. He would buy a country home with his wife and daughter, and never, ever have to talk to reporters again.
J. Bruce Ismay, Managing Director of the White Star Line, on the other hand, was beaming.
"Ah, excellent. The tugs are bringing reporters. We are going to be famous, you and I. What did I tell you? Retire with a bang, eh, E.J." Ismay had told Smith that the very Sunday they had hit the iceberg. He had convinced Smith to increase speed to make New York on Wednesday, April 17. The folly of that had nearly destroyed the ship, and now they were two days late. That, of course, no longer mattered. Titanic had survived hitting an iceberg and the reputation of both herself and her sister ship, Olympic, had soared. White Star would beat all competition the third sister, Gigantic, was launched in two years. Smith could see Ismay wished to say something, and he knew what it was going to be.
"So, Captain, or should I say Commodore Smith, what do you say about postponing your retirement a couple of years, take Gigantic out? She's going to be even larger than this ship." Smith shook his head. "I think not." Ismay looked incredulously at his senior most commander. "Come now, E.J. I would pay you double, triple, what I do now. Instead of a small country villa, how about a plantation, with horses for your daughter. She would absolutely love it, I know." And just like that, Commodore Edward John Smith realized he would not be retiring any time soon.