April 2, 1912
Belfast Lough, Off of Belfast, Northern Ireland
6 A.M.
A small toot of a whistle echoed through the salty air of Belfast Lough, soon to be followed by a chorus of others as the familiar pop-pop of tugboat engines could be heard from the shore as five tugs puttered about...
Pulling along a hulking, metal leviathan.
After giving up her spot in dry-dock to her damaged sister Olympic, fitting out the Titanic was able to resume on March 7. In that time, furnishings on her first and second-class accommodations had been completed, as well as the modest, but still comfortable steerage cabins, and all machinery had been installed, including the state-of-the-art Marconi wireless set, located in the wireless room in the aft-most portion of the officers quarters on the boat deck...
Where Mason and his colleagues, the black-furred Senior Wireless Operator Jack Phillips and blonde-furred Junior Wireless Operator Harold Bride, were currently stationed. The trio had arrived on Titanic earlier that morning, along with the rest of the officers and screw, just before the sun began to peak over the horizon, in order to fine-tune the equipment they would be handling over the next few weeks.
Bride and Phillips had settled into their sleeping quarters, which was just to the left of the main wireless room, their only form of privacy being a simple curtain. But, since the accommodations only featured a bunk-bed, Mason was assigned cabin A-35, which was currently not booked for the maiden voyage. With that, Mason, along with Bride and Phillips, felt he had lucked out, as the first-class cabin was situated just beside the lift-elevators just behind the ship's opulent Grand Staircase, which Mason would need access to in order to enter the "Crew Only" entrance at the top most landing.
"Alright boys," Phillips called in a Surrey accent, not quite posh, but still noticeable, "let's get going."
"Right-O Jack," Bride called, the Nunhead native and Mason, both having discarded their dress-tunics and caps, clad in only their trousers, oxfords, and gold-buttoned waist-coats, fiddling with knife-switches and twisting nobs in a small room to the right of the main cabin. Within seconds, the room was filled with a deafening noise as the electric generator kicked on, bringing power to the electric coil that would give the telegraph keys before Jack, who began to adjust dials of his own as he placed his headphones onto his ears.
And already, he could hear the faint dots and dashes of Morse code.
"Alright," he called to his to younger colleagues, both having stepped out of the ironically named "Silent Room," "first time these machines are up and running."
"First time anything on this ship is up and running," Mason responded with a laugh, tucking his braid behind his ear, earring a playful shove from Bride.
"With some help from your old man," Bride joked back.
And it was true, for just two weeks prior, Archie had been approached by Thomas Andrews, chief designer for Harland and Wolff, and Titanic's Architect. Archie's hard work had caught Andrew's eye, and as a reward, was invited on the Titanic as a foreman on the Guarantee Group, the best workers in the shipyards who would see too it that Titanic's maiden voyage went off without a hitch.
And Archie, along with Artie Frost, would be in the heart of it all in the powerhouse of the ship he had helped to build;
Her Engine Room.
"Huh," huffed Jack as he took off his headphones, holding them up to Mason and Bride, who huffed along with Jack from the messages coming in from the nearby lighthouses.
... .- -.- / - - / -. - - -.. / .-.. ..- -.-. -.- / - -. / - ... - ... . / - .-. .. .- .-.. ...
(Say OM (Old Man) Good Luck On Those Trials.)
And luck they would need.
With Titanic's fitting out completed, one final test remained...
Her Sea Trials.
As the tugs pulled Titanic out of the Lough and into the Irish Sea, the grey-furred Captain Edward Smith, his thick beard billowing in the breeze, cast his gaze out over the ship's forecastle, where he could make out the uniformed figures of two of his officers. The dark-brown fur of Second Officer David Blair, as well as his subordinate, Junior Second Officer Nars McNamara, making it difficult to distinguish them from the fur of Chief Officer William Murdoch, whose hazel-grey eyes scanned the horizon. But, alongside Mr. Murdoch, was his immediate subordinate, whose unmistakable russet fur made it impossible for any crew member to mistake Junior Chief Officer Garth Reynolds for anyone else.
The officers had boarded earlier that morning, helping to prepare for the trials on the bridge. Titanic also had a skeleton crew for her trials, which mainly consisted of stokers, greasers, and engineers. Civil staff, such as stewards, maids, cooks and the like would not board until Southampton, where Titanic would take on provisions for the voyage. But right now, the black smoke billowing from Titanic's three functional funnels showed that her muscle-men were hard at work.
Meanwhile, back on the bridge, Captain Smith turned to look past the grey-furred Thomas Andrews, the tall, strongly-built Irish-wolf accompanied by Mr. Chisholm, who was also appointed to the guarantee group, to oversee the trials. Andrews' uncle, Lord Pirrie, as well as the Chairman of the White Star Line, J. Bruce Ismay, where unable to attend due to poor health.
Standing just aft of the men was Samuel, who as Junior First officer, was the senior most officer on bridge, after the Captain. Mr. Lightoller was currently stationed at the aft docking bridge on Titanic's poop-deck. just standing outside of the open navigation deck, where the dark red-furred Third Officer Pitman and brown-furred Fourth Officer Joseph Boxhall stood at the engine order telegraphs, waiting for orders to get Titanic underway.
"Signal tugs to release us, Mr. Davis," Smith called with a posh English accent.
"Aye sir," Samuel responded before hollering to Pitman and Boxhall.
"Release tugs!"
With a splash, the five tow-lines fell into the sea, allowing Titanic to drift under her own weight.
The time had come.
Five years of endeavor...for one moment.
"Take her away, Mr. Davis!" Smith called with a smile.
"Aye sir," Samuel responded with an exited smile of his own.
"Slow Ahead!"
With a clang, Boxhall and Pitman moved the telegraph handles to SLOW AHEAD.
Down in the engine room, Archie, who had worn his finest suit for the occasion, and Mr. Frost heard the sound of their own telegraphs ring, smiles spreading across their muzzles at the realization that Titanic, was about to come to life.
"Take her away boys!" Archie called with a small laugh.
Before long, the engineers were scrambling about, tossing levers and opening steam valves, allowing steam from the ship's boilers to be fed into the two Triple-Expansion Reciprocating Engines, each taller than two story building. With a sudden lurch, the steam-driven pistons slowly began to move, driving the two wing propellers. With steam being fed into the engines at over 200 pounds per square inch, Titanic, was now moving under own power.
Back on the bridge, Smith could feel the breeze on his face pick up.
A good sign.
"Gentlemen," he said with a laugh turning to the others,
"Titanic is underway."
And so the sea trials began, a series of exercises meant to test Titanic's speed and maneuverability. After a few moments of letting the engines warm up, Smith decided to open her up a bit more.
"Half Ahead," He called.
"Half Ahead," Samuel relayed to Boxhall and Pitman, who in turn moved the telegraphs handles to HALF AHEAD.
On the forecastle, Garth and Mr. Murdoch relished the familiar feeling of the breeze in the fur, the salty air filling their nostrils as Titanic plowed ahead through the Irish Sea, the sound of the waves crashing against the wakes made by her massive hull music to their ears. Even Boxhall and Pitman on the bridge couldn't help but marvel at this great technological achievement.
Then the next order came through from Samuel.
"All Ahead Full!"
And so, the telegraphs were set all the way to AHEAD FULL.
With excess steam fed into the low pressure turbine, engaging her central propeller, Titanic was brought up to cruising speed.
There had been last minute changes to Titanic's design with larger first-class staterooms and private promenades. These changes made Titanic heavier...
a thousand tons heavier than her sister ship, Olympic.
At 46,000 tons, Titanic was now the worlds largest moving object.
However, this meant that her sea trials were not a formality.
As Smith well knew.
"Hard to Starboard," Smith ordered, starting Titanic's test in maneuverability.
"Hard a Starboard!" Samuel called to the quartermaster.
"I don't expect her to turn on a six-pence Captain Smith, " a grey-furred, bespectacled wolf in a bowler hat and black suit voiced, jotting down notes on forms fastened to a wooden clipboard, flashing Smith a playful smile.
"Just within reasonable limits."
Francis Crowthers was a representative for the Board of Trade. In three years of construction, he had inspected Titanic almost two thousand times. It was Mr. Crowthers who would sign off on Titanic's safety certificate, deeming her seaworthy.
But soon, on that April day in the Irish Sea, Titanic would be put to the crucial test...
At her full speed, 21 knots...
How quickly could she stop.
"Full Speed Astern," Smith ordered to Samuel as Mr. Crowthers pulled out a stopwatch from his coat pocket.
"Full Speed Astern!"
With that, the internal bells rang as the handles of the telegraphs were pulled back to FULL ASTERN.
"FULL ASTERN!" Archie had to call over the deafening sound of the engines.
"COME ON LADS, QUICK AS YOU CAN!"
Briefly reducing steam, the engineers were able to reverse the engines. However, Archie and Mr. Frost had to steady themselves, as the sudden reverse in the engines caused a bit of turbulence, causing a shudder to vibrate through the ship, so much so that glass chandeliers all the way in the first-class tinkled form the vibration.
As the great ship slowed, the hopes of all who built her quickened.
Before long, the breeze on the ship's decks had died down, the sound of a buoy bell echoing through the air as Titanic ground to a halt.
"Well Mr Crowthers?" Mr. Andrews asked with a lite Irish brogue. Looking at his stopwatch, Mr. Crowthers could see that Titanic came to a stop in nearly three minutes and fifteen seconds at...
"850 yards," he responded, with what appeared to be a look of mock disappointment on his face, a look that quickly shifted into a playful smile.
"Well done...that is quite acceptable."
Titanic had stopped in under half a mile, less than three times her own length of 882 1/2 feet.
Her passenger certificate was endorsed for one year.
Titanic was free to take on the world.
Belfast Dockyards,
7:53 P.M.
Her sea trial took around eight hours to complete. Upon completion, Titanic returned to Belfast for Mr. Crowthers to sign on her safety certificate before she would travel to Southampton.
With the fading light, Titanic prepared to depart her birthplace...for good.
Thomas Andrews, who was currently bidding farewell to his wife and infant daughter, had gathered his prized Guarantee Group...
Nine Trusted Men.
Among them, Roderick Chisholm, who was saying goodbye to his wife and daughter.
Artie Frost, kissing his wife goodbye before turning to his young son.
"Take care of your mommy for em, will ya?" he said before pulling his boy into a hug.
It is known that Artie was short of promotion upon his return.
Archie Fennrir, who was accompanied by Mason to say goodbye to Bobby and Jim, who were currently enveloped in a tight hug by Mason.
Jim's hard work had also paid off.
The shipyard had named him "Apprentice of the Year."
"Don't give the Davis' any grief, ya hear me?" he said with a laugh, a twinkle of a tear in his eyes. While Archie and Mason would be a away, Bobby and Jim would be left in the care of Samuel's Parents, the dark brown-furred Joseph, one of the lead draftsmen at Harland and Wolff, and and the light auburn-furred French-wolf Lisa, the latter enveloping her son in a tight hug, tears streaming down her face.
"Bon Voyage, Mon Efant," she wept in French.
"Au Revoir Mama," Samuel said with a chuckle, before turning to his father, only to find himself pulled into a bear hug from the larger wolf.
"Make us proud, boy, and give our love to your sister," he said in a deep Irish bass, before setting his son down, allowing him to walk toward the gangway to join the others. Soon, the thought of his older sister Paige and her family, who had immigrated to New York five years prior, bringing a larger smile to his face.
Samuel was also on the rise to greatness.
If all went well, he would be Junior Chief under Garth on Titanic's next run, making them both the youngest of each in the lines history.
"Here boys," Archie said to his sons, handing them each a new penny as they met his gaze.
"A penny each...they're this years. Don't spend 'em until your brother and I come back, we'll be even richer then."
The boys quickly enveloped their father in a tight hug, joined by Mason, until the sound of the porters whistle sounded, indicating it was time to leave.
Unfortunately, the group had to clear the gangway briefly, as two doctors, descended the gangway, carrying with them a stretcher.
On it, was Nars, who had fallen ill during the sea trials.
The doctors put it down to something he ate.
Just as they passed, Samuel briefly stopped them, placing a hand on Nars' shoulder.
"Get well soon, Nars ol' boy," he said, "we'll need you on the next run."
"Don't worry about me," the Scots-wolf weakly laughed with a thick drawl, "just buy a pint for me in New York."
With a laugh, Samuel patted Nars' shoulder before allowing the doctors to continue.
Captain Smith, upon hearing of his Junior Second Officer's condition, had the wireless send out a message to Olympic in Southampton, where she was just getting ready to depart for her next run to New York, asking them to send one of her junior officers ashore so they could join Titanic's crew.
He couldn't help but let out a playful groan as he learned that the newly promoted Third Officer Humphrey Chambers was chosen.
Meanwhile, Mr. Andrews moved over to Joseph before joining the others.
"Mr. Davis," he called to the wolf who would taking over for Mr. Chisholm while he was gone. Extending his hand, Andrews laughed when it was eagerly taken.
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye Tom," Joseph responded, "and good luck."
Joining the others on the gangway, Mr. Andrews gave one final message to the crowd.
"We'll see you in a couple of weeks."
Every man boarded Titanic with hope and expectation.
With that, Titanic departed for Southampton at 8 P.M.
Twelve Days Later, on the night of April 14, 1912, Titanic, the largest ship in the world, would meet her iceberg...
shaped by nature...
And six times her size.