Special Thanks to GoddessGodOfAllWolves for allowing me to borrow the character of Mason.
Belfast, Northern Ireland, The United Kingdom
January, 1912
The harsh winter winds billowed through the dark, narrow, lamp-lit streets of Belfast, her usually bustling sidewalks now deserted as the frigid night began to set in, forcing all the cities inhabitants to take shelter in their cozy little homes. In one such home, a small family, one that went by the name Fennrir, was preparing to settle down for a hot dinner of beef and vegetable stew.
Tending to the pot over the blazing fire was a young wolf, no older than fifteen, his fiery-ginger fur greatly accentuated by the blazing fire that was cooking the evening meal, the flames reflected in his deep blue eyes. The young lad was dressed in a simple outfit, which was merely a dirtied white button-down shirt, suspenders over his shoulders holding a pair of tattered brown trousers stained with dirt and grime, and feet covered by a pair of hand-me-down boots that had belonged to one of his older brothers, boots that were just a size too big.
"Keep it moving Bobby," a deep voice called to the boy from the entrance of the kitchen, "need to make sure it's cooked through."
Turning to the largely built adult wolf behind him, his noticeable greyer ginger fur covered by a thick wool peacoat, grey flannel shirt and beige trousers, the boy chuckled as he returned his attention to the task at hand.
"I know Dah," Bobby laughed as he continued to stir dinner. In the meantime, Archibald Fennrir, or Archie as his friends called him, sat down with a grown beside his son, his tired brown eyes clenched shut as he felt the bones in his back pop, the sound being joined by the tell tale clatter of bowls and silverware being set on the kitchen table by another young wolf, this one being about eighteen as he set the table fore dinner.
Much like his father and brother, young James', or Jim as he was called, thin and lanky body was covered with fiery-ginger fur, which in turn was covered in the same manner of attire as his brother, save for black trousers. Upon hearing his father's grown, Jim cast his amber eyes, which were framed by the round spectacles that adorned his face, toward his father as the elder Fenrrir removed his boots, revealing feet covered with thick woolen socks, his big toe peaking out from a whole in the right one.
"You alright Pop?" he called, concern written on his face.
The older wolf, upon noticing that he had been spoken too, cast a playful smile in his middle child's direction as he sat back in the chair.
"I'm fine son," Archie reassured him, placing his cold feet in front of the fire to warm them.
At that moment, the sound of the front door opened up. In a matter of seconds, a tall, ginger-furred wolf, no older than twenty-three entered the room, amber eyes blood shot, a clear sign of the bitter wind blowing in his face, the fur on which was speckled with large snowflakes that the wolf hurriedly brushed off before placing a cloth covered item on the table.
"Evening Fennrirs," the wolf called in a light baritone, taking off a peak-cap on top of his head that presented a decorative monogram "M" on it, before shedding his double breasted, brass buttoned great coat, only to a full black uniform, complete with a double breasted, brass button jacket, also adorned with the decorative "M," which covered a white button-down shirt adorned with a black tie.
"Busy day, Mason?" Archie called as he rose from his seat, jokingly inquiring as to the lateness of his eldest son's arrival, usually being home before nightfall.
"Well," Mason responded with a cheeky smile, shaking his head to ruffle his mane, which was a darker shade than the rest of his body, a traditional Celtic braid tucked behind his ear, "I was on my way, when I decided to stop at the bakers."
Reaching for the cloth-covered item, Mason pulled it back to reveal a loaf of freshly cake adorned with what appeared to be chocolate frosting. Upon laying eyes on the delectable looking dessert, the younger Fennrir's mouths began to water, while Archie's widened in surprise.
"What's the occasion," he playfully asked his son, knowing full well that his son could afford thanks to his job with Marconi Telegraph Company.
"In good time," Mason responded in his cheeky way.
"But, I have some good news before that," he continued, gaining everyone's undivided attention.
"What?" Bobby asked in giddy excitement.
"Earlier today, I heard over the wire that the Olympic will be coming in to pick up more provisions for her next voyage to New York."
Archie's smile widened into a devious smirk as he knew what Mason was getting at, his suspicious being confirmed even more by the pure excitement radiating through Bobby and Jim.
"So that troublemaker friend of yours will be by I imagine?"
And just as Archie said this, a loud rapping came from the door, causing Bobby and Jim's eyes to widen with glee as they bolted for the door, their shouts quickly filling the air as they opened to see who was there.
"SAM!" Bobby called.
"HEY BOYS!" A deep Irish baritone laughed out, causing the older Fennrirs to laugh as the sound of labored footsteps made their way toward the kitchen. And into the kitchen, with the two boys arms wrapped tight around his waist as he dragged them in, came a young, cream-furred wolf, just pushing twenty-five, his head covered with a peak-cap similar to Mason's, but with the Crest of the famous White Star Line, which also adorned the buttons of his black great coat.
"Boys, let him breath," Archie laughed as he and Mason rose from their seats to great the hazel-eyed wolf, eyes which, much like Jim, were also framed by Round Spectacles, spectacles damp with melted snow.
After being released from the vice like grip of the two boys, Samuel Davis found himself being enveloped in another embrace from Archie.
"Sammy Boy," he chuckled warmly as he patted the young Irish-wolf's back before pulling away.
"Archie," Samuel laughed back before being embraced warmly by his childhood friend, his head resting perfectly on Mason's shoulder, his friend being taller than him by about two inches at an impressive six feet, much taller than average.
"I heard Olympic was coming in," Mason laughed as he patted his friends back, "So I figured you'd stop by."
Pulling away from his friend, Samuel, who was the third officer fo the aforementioned ship, gave a sly smile as he turned his attention tot the others.
"Well," he said with a laugh, removing his spectacles to wipe them clean, "I felt it more important than necessary this time, because I have news."
"Do tell," Archie said as he ushers Bobby and Jim to fill their bowls, which they did before sitting at the table to listen to Samuel's announcement.
"I've been promoted."
"Congratulations," Mason said with a beaming smile, clearly happy for his friend.
"Yes," Samuel added with a chuckle, "you are looking at the Junior First Officer of the Titanic for her Maiden Voyage."
Mason's eyes widened at this news.
"Well," Mason said playfully, a mischievous smirk forming on his lips, "God have mercy on you, because I have news myself."
"Is this the news you bought the cake for?" Bobby inquired a she dug into his stew."
"Yes," Mason laughed, "for you seen, I am going to be on Titanic as well as one of her wireless operators."
Congratulation quickly went around as Mason's family offered, hugs, handshakes, or pats on the shoulder, all while Samuel stood bewildered.
"You're right Mason," Samuel finally breathed out, catching the other's attention, "God have mercy on me."
The resulted in a chorus of laughter from the others, Samuel eventually joining in before placing a hand tenderly on Mason's shoulder.
"Your mother would be proud," he said with a sad smile, a smile returned as Mason looked to picture of a middle-aged, woman, the monochromatic photo making it impossible to tell that this Erin Fennrir had ginger-fur like the rest of her family, as well as stunning , sky-blue eyes. After a moment of staring longingly at the picture, Mason turned back to Samuel.
"So," he said after wiping a tear away, "you off to tell your family?"
"I am," Samuel confirmed with a smile, his heart giddy at seeing his family in west Belfast to tell them the news.
"And who are the unlucky fools you get to sail with?" Archie playfully quipped with a smile.
With a laugh, Samuel gave his answer.
"Junior officers, as far as I know, are going to be Pitman, Boxhall, Lowe, and Moody," he began, "And as for the Junior SENIOR officers, it'll be Garth Reynolds under Mr. Murdoch, myself under Mr. Lightoller, and Nars McNamara under Mr. Blair."
Looking to the boys at the table, Samuel offered a kind smile.
"And how are things with the little sister at dry-dock?"
"Going very well," Jim responded after swallowing his food that he had in his mouth, knowing full well that Samuel was referring to the latest vessel in White Star Fleet, Olympic's sister ship...
R.M.S. Titanic.
"YEAH!" Bobby piped, not bother to be polite like his brother, his cheeks puffed out after being stuffed with stew, "we just started putting in the davits and lifeboats."
Samuel looked to Archie upon hearing this, the older wolf nodding in confirmation.
"I imagine sixteen wooden and four collapsibles?" Sam inquired.
"Just like Olympic," Archie confirmed with a nod.
"Well," Sam said with a sigh before rapping his gloved knuckles on the wooden table, "knock on wood if the worst should happen, an evacuation should go as smoothly as the Republic."
The oldest Fennrirs nodded in agreement, only for their train of thought to be broken by Samuel.
"Well," he said as he looked out the kitchen window, seeing the night get darker, "I should get going before it gets too dark."
With that, after giving a parting handshake to Mason and Archie, Samuel left to surprise his family with the good news of his promotion, unaware of future events that would turn his new position into a living nightmare.
Titanic Facts and Misconceptions:
The sinking of the R.M.S. Republic in 1909 is a prime example of what lifeboats were meant for at the time.
Lifeboats, up to 1912, were meant to ferry passengers from a sinking vessel to rescues vessels, NOT to hold the entire ship's population.
Much like Titanic, the Republic carried the minimum number of Lifeboats required by the British Board of Trade when she collided with the S.S. Florida off the coast of Nantucket.
But, because it took nearly fifteen hours for her to sink in a busy shipping lane, all passengers and crew, save for the ones killed in the collision, were saved.
What Titanic's designer's didn't envision is what happened the morning of April 15, 1912.
Titanic sank in Two and a Half hours, with the closest responding ship being four hours away.
The topic of "more Lifeboats would have made a differnce," will be discussed in a later chapter.