10 to 11 April. Night.
Celtic sea
I was stopped by a nimble priest with a camera.
- Officer, can I take a picture of you for memory?
- I don't mind, but why me? I'm not a movie star.
-Oh, I'm interested in everything and everyone on Titanic.
- This is my first time here. I just have an evening round. If you want I can show you everything.
- I will accept your offer with pleasure, Mr…
- Henry Wilde. Chief Officer of this ship.
- Pleased to meet you. Francis Brown. A priest, as you can see. A Catholic..., - the clergyman admitted unsure.
- Doesn't matter. You can be even an Aztec.
All people are brothers, one of my acquaintances was a druid. He worshiped trees. A wonderful person, - I smiled, - I examined the upper decks. Can show the lower ones. The entrance to the engine room is closed to outsiders. Set up your camera.
-Are we going to see the third class? - Mr. Brown was delighted.
- In general, of course, it is not supposed to take first-class passengers there, but I will make an exception for the photographer. Your pictures, Mr. Brown, will help to immortalize the beauty of Titanic. And mine, too.
At 2 am. the moment of truth has come. My first solo watch. Gotta get out of the situation. The evening watch was in Cherbourg and there really was no need to do anything alone. The captain and pilot were always nearby. And I was only on duty on the forecastle, checking the situation at the entrance to the port of Cherbourg and exit from it. Now I have to control everything. Scary, of course. A man who first got on an ocean liner, having no experience, except for swimming on an air mattress, stood on watch. The eyes are afraid, but the hands are doing.
Yawning Murdoch, after giving me the captain's order to keep going at full speed, hastened to disappear from the bridge. I took over the watch.
The bridge was the heart and brain of any ship. From here, with the help of telegraphs, commands were sent to the engine room. Five machine telegraphs generally.
Seven windows gave an excellent view of the ocean.
The quartermaster held ship's course confidently. Luckily, he didn't need my help. It was necessary to have high skill in order to follow the compass in complete darkness. No navigators. Only skill and knowledge.
Nothing superfluous was on the bridge. Everything is functional and well thought out. I consider the lack of electronics an advantage. Firstly, it makes you think using your head, and secondly, failures are not terrible. Nothing will turn off at the most inopportune moment.
I only have to stand for four hours. But the lousiest from two in the morning until six in the morning. In the first hour I saw enough of the starry sky, in the second hour I stared blankly into the darkness, shivering from the night cold. There was nothing interesting.
The air of the night sea, alone with your thoughts is the best medicine. The junior watch officers said something to me, I answered something, but my thoughts were about something else. I didn't do well with Ada. Why was I rude to her? Who pulled my tongue? I must apologize. Taking a pencil out of my pocket and a piece of paper folded in half with the "On board R.M.S Titanic" branding. After thinking for a couple of minutes, gnawing on the tip of a pencil, I put someone's notebook under the sheet with incomprehensible calculations to me and began to write everything that was in my heart. This was my last confession before stepping into the unknown.
Dear Ada
Before I left for Southampton, I didn't have much time to tell you. Sorry for my attacks on you. I didn't mean something bad, but nerves take their toll. I feel like I'm crumbling from the inside. I have no right to drink, and it is unbearable to live sober. It's not your fault, I'm a fool.
As for the marriage, I will remain at my opinion. I don't believe in anything anymore. Understand and accept it
If I don't get back from this sailing, I'm sorry for everything and don't leave my kids. And if I come back, we will definitely talk about everything.
Your Henry.
I sealed the envelope and took it to my cabin. I'll send it to Queenstown in the morning. From there it will quickly reach Liverpool.
The propellers cut black water in endless darkness. Above me are the stars, below me is the abyss. Only the vibrations of the machines reminded me that everything was not a dream.
April 11
Morning
Queenstown
The night faded quickly. In four hours, I managed to examine the wheelhouse in detail, read the logbook, besides, I almost broke the sextant in an attempt to look through it at the stars.
In the morning the sea became restless. On the Titanic, the pitching was not felt. The liner confidently walked through the Celtic Sea at full speed. Twenty boilers out of twenty-nine worked. Maserati among ocean steamers.
Lightoller replaced me at 6 a.m. I had to make my rounds and get a couple of hours of sleep. At eleven we arrive in Queenstown.
Drinking cup of morning coffee on the boat deck I saw Dorothy in the rays of the rising sun. What made her come here alone so early? She was sitting on a deck chair looking at the morning sea.
I took out a pocket mirror caught a sunbeam and sent it to her. Dorothy didn't notice at first.
Then she smiled at me. I smiled back.
Couldn't go to sleep. It turned out that I had a plan to test horizontal watertight doors with Thomas Andrews. What I was told by the third-class steward sent for me, John Hart, with a strange T-shaped screwdriver in his hands. I had no idea what kind of doors they were, who, how and with what should open them. Puffing out my cheeks, I turned on the "smart face" option again and trudged along behind the steward, regretting the broken sleeping.
The shore appeared at eleven. The sleepy state was gone. The sun rose, the green meadows shimmered in its rays. Small houses were visible on the hills. Standing wide-eyed on the forecastle, I couldn't take my eyes off the emerald shores of Ireland.
Charles and Will went off to open the doors on E deck. Two tenders with the original names "America" and "Ireland" rushed towards us. They won't bring anything new. All the same passengers with luggage and mail.
Tenders are like bed bugs, next to the Titanic, swaying lazily on the waves of the Celtic Sea.
Since I have not been given any instructions, I will go for a walk on the decks. Maybe I'll see Dorothy. Maybe not…Stop. Enough thinking about it.
A crowd of third-class passengers and ... a crowd of Irish lace sellers went on board from the tenders. Seems like it was some kind of tradition to allow lace selling during Queenstown stops.
There were many photographers and journalists on the upper decks. They took pictures of captain, crew and some first-class passengers.
On B Deck promenade I met Dorothy again. With the same older woman as the first time. She was trying on lace for a dress.
"What do you think, mom?" asked Dorothy.
"Too simple as for me" replied her mother.
"You are not objective" protested Dorothy "Let's ask someone else!".
Suddenly Dorothy looked at me and asked "What do you think, officer? Is it good or too old-fashioned?"
Being more than surprised. I blushed for a few seconds.
"M-m-m well…very nice and contrasts with the color of your eyes." I replied shyly.
"Listen what people say" said Dorothy to her mother "Only you never like my choice".
"I give up, Dorothy. Do what you want. But it's not polite not to introduce ourselves to a young man." Said mother.
"Oh…Yes, sure! Sorry, my fault. Dorothy Gibson and this is my mother Pauline"
"Nice to meet you. I'm Henry, Henry Wilde. Chief Officer here" I introduced myself.
At t the time of our first meeting, I didn't know that Dorothy Gibson was a movie star.
To be honest, I didn't care. Silent movies are not movies at all. My father worked on the set of the "Titanic" film of 1997; I grew up in Hollywood…so it's hard to impress me.
"My apologies, ladies. Need to leave you. Preparing to departure, you know. See you later" – Raising my officers cap, said "Good bye!".
Walking from B deck promenade to the forecastle I started to understand something. Father, film, Titanic. No connection between them from the first sight…but it should be