April 14

Morning

Atlantic Ocean

14th of April... Today is the day the Titanic last saw daylight, as Rose told us. I will try to do my best to make this day just one of many for the Titanic.

In the morning I shave, put on a long uniform jacket called "mess dress" or "full company uniform". I put my trendy hair in order, clean my shoes. Really nice.

The captain looks into the cabin.

"Henry, are you ready? Dressing up like a woman for a date."

"Ready, sir."

Together, through the entire boat deck, we go to the first-class entrance.

"Captain, do I have to go to the Sunday church service?"

"You are almost captain; you'll be the one to lead the Sunday church service. Look, remember. And please, don't be too smart. Just stand and sing."

"But, sir, maybe I'd better go check the engine room?"

"No talking, Henry. Follow me."

"I'm a bad singer."

"This is not a solo concert."

"I don't know the words."

"The texts will be given to everyone."

I humbly follow the captain to first class. In the dining room I stand in the front row, next to the Allison family and Thomas Andrews, the captain stands in front of everyone.

"Hey Henry, you look doomed." Thomas greets me in a half-whisper, shaking my hand.

"I was asleep."

"I thought you were hatching a plan to save the world."

"Gentlemen, be quiet, please, it's starting." asked the man next to me.

"Sorry." I whispered. And then remembered the joke. "Mr. Andrews, would you like to tell you a joke?"

"Come on!"

"One man complains to a friend, "These are such immoral times. People have no morals. I'm standing at a church service, and next to me a woman is smoking. I almost dropped beer from my hands."

Thomas laughed convulsively, covering his mouth with his hand. The service began, and we giggled like two schoolchildren in a lesson. We stopped only when the captain, frowning his eyebrows, threw lightning bolts at us.

I quietly go to the boat deck and return to my cabin.

April 14

Afternoon

Atlantic Ocean

Half a day passed. The fatal iceberg was approaching. In ten hours, we will find out whether we live or not. I was engaged in work affairs and tried to avoid familiar passengers so as not to be distracted from my thoughts.

From time to time, those who were aware of the secret glances at me. But I didn't have any plan. I didn't know what to do at all.

Murdoch offered to tell the captain everything, but I dismissed the idea as premature. Let's wait for the iceberg.

April 14

Late evening

By 11 p.m. we were ready for anything.

While unsuspecting passengers listened to the music, finished playing cards and just had a good time, the temperature on the bridge dropped to 15 degrees Fahrenheit. In other words, severe frost with a gusty ocean wind. Deadly combination.

"It shouldn't be this cold now." I shivered, turning up the collar of my coat and hiding my face in the sweater.

"So where is your iceberg?" Murdoch is impatient.

"Wait, Will. Forty more minutes."

"I'll be freezing soon, Henry."

The lookouts in the crow's nest see almost nothing in the dark. There is no moon. We sent two more lookouts with flashlights to the forecastle, and Lowe to help them. The speed was reduced to 15 knots.

The sailor brought samples of sea water. Temperature dropped to 17 degrees.

Murdock shook his head in surprise.

"I have been at sea for so many years, but this is the first time I see such water temperature on this route. It even seemed to me that we got lost and took much further north."

"I personally checked our location. We're on course. What is going on here, I myself don't understand."

The temperature dropped every ten minutes. Exactly at 11:30 p.m we reduced the speed to 5 knots.

Midnight is approaching, but there is still no iceberg. Is it really in vain that I made a noise and in this version of the history of the ice block on the path of the Titanic is not provided?

11:35 p.m. The horizon is clear. If the iceberg doesn't show up, I'll be in trouble.

11:38 p.m. from the crow's nest and the forecastle, cries of "Iceberg right ahead" are heard simultaneously. The bell rings, the warning is duplicated by the telephone, Moody receives. Says "Thank you" like in our story. Everything happens without haste.

"Hard to starboard!" Murdoch orders.

The huge liner slowly takes to the left, carefully passing the iceberg at a distance of about 100 yards.

"And it's all?" yawned Will. "I am disappointed. I thought we were in real danger."

The telephone rang in the pilothouse.

"What, Mr. Moody?" I asked impatiently.

"From the forecastle Lowe reports a continuous ice field. We can't go further." James said slightly confused.

"All machines stop!" I scream out loud.

The sound of machine telegraphs is heard, moved into the "STOP" position. Having passed a little by inertia, the Titanic stopped.

I went to the forecastle with Murdoch.

"Directly ahead." Lowe rubbed his nose in confusion.

"The real Arctic" I whistled.

"What are we going to do, Henry?" asked Murdoch.

"Looks like it's time to call the captain and Lightoller. Situation is more serious than I expected"

And then telegraph operator Phillips came to us with even more frightening news.

"I received distress calls." He was at a loss.

"And?" I asked impatiently.

"They're from the Titanic, Mr. Wilde"

"Let's go to the radio room and check."

Jack sat down at the telegraph key, put on his headphones and listened to the air.

"Air is absolutely empty. Just half an hour ago I sent messages to the mainland."

"The route is busy. Someone should have responded." Said Murdoch. "Repeat the message again, Jack, please."

Phillips taps out the message again.

"Some damn thing. Harold, listen. I don't understand anything."

Bride took the headphones. After a minute he loosened his tie and turned pale.

"Distress signals. CQD and SOS alternate. They're from the Titanic..."

Something seems to have gone wrong. There is a strange neon light on the horizon.

We stood in a daze, not knowing what to do.

"What is it, Henry? Thunderstorm?"

"It may very well be, but if it were a thunderstorm, the light would flicker. Look closely, it's stable." I handed Murdoch the binoculars "Maybe northern lights?"

"First time I see this." Murdoch returned the binoculars to me. "You can't see the northern lights in these latitudes."

Only the thought "where did I get into?" revolves in my head.