The pinkette was walking down the long white corridor with Joseph, her curiosity wondering what kind of liner she would be on but still questioning a few things within her head.
Just then they just felt the rumblings from below beginning to cease until they've finally stopped.
"The engines stopped." Joseph acknowledges the sudden turn of events. First he had to show the pinkette around the ship and now this, it ain't the worst thing to come out of his life but it was annoying.
"Why? Are we at this New York already?" The pinkette asked, her head glancing back towards him with that modest look on her face.
"No! We'd be arriving on the 17th, we're still in the middle of the North Atlantic." Joseph answered, feeling a sense of unease.
"That's strange….." Placing her thumb and index onto her chin, thoughts running through her mind but she quickly dismisses them.
"Maybe they're doing a boat drill…..There was supposed to be one today but it was canceled….Maybe because of Sunday services."
"But one during the middle of the night? Kinda raises a few questions….." Mine's eyebrows raise out of suspicion.
"I'm not sure really! They most likely just threw a propeller blade…..That would suck. We would have to go back to Belfast." Joseph cursed as a sigh of sorrow escaped his mouth.
"So? How's that the end of the world?" The pinkette says as her arms were crossed.
"My grandfather doesn't have much time left….." He mutters underneath his breath but it was enough for the pinkette to hear.
"O…..Oh…..Sorry." The pinkette apologizes as awkwardness and some bit of shame creeped up in her body.
"It's okay. The doctors informed me that he has until about the 19th to live, he has been fighting lung cancer for about a couple years." Joseph informs the pinkette, his eyes fixated towards the floor. Emitting an expression of sorrow.
"So I took the Titanic to rush to Harrisburg and hopefully I arrive on time to say goodbye." He finishes his sentence to hear a possible reply from the pinkette listening to his story.
"It's understandable…..Really! I never really had a chance to see my own grandparents before they met their ends." The pinkette says, grabbing her left arm rather tightly but immediately snaps out of her sorrowful state.
Just then, the sound of loud knocking came from right behind them as a few stewards knocked on the passengers cabins.
"Everybody up! Lifebelts on!"
"What's the ruckus?"
"Just put your lifebelts on!"
A steward then walked up towards Joseph and Mine and pushed the white life jackets into their chest, rushing quickly past the two before they had the chance to even question the situation.
"What the hell is going on?" The pinkette muttered slowly.
"A boat drill…..Sounds like we're being called up deck." Joseph answered, taking a short glance towards Mine.
"Still…..A boat drill at…..What time is it?" Mine asks.
Joseph takes a glance at his watch for a split second to look back up at Mine. "Midnight." He replies.
"What?! At Midnight! This is raising flags Joseph." The pinkette complained as she felt annoyed from this whole nuisance of an event.
"You may be right." Even he was feeling a bit suspicious about this whole turn of events. No ship ever calls a boat drill during the middle of the night. There's no reason to anyway.
"We should head up to the boats." The pinkette rushed forward before her palm was grabbed by Joseph's.
"Wait! I don't think we've been ordered up to the boats just yet." Joseph called as his grip still laid firm on her wrist.
"Why not?" Mine asked with an irritated tone.
"First and Second Class have to go before us." Joseph answered.
"Bullshit! The rich get to go while the poor have to wait?" And that's when the pinkette was starting to lose her cool.
"That's the rules." Joseph didn't like these rules too but it's the law and besides, it's not like the ship's in imminent danger.
"F…...Fine! We'll wait but if we're not being let up by the next twenty minutes then I'm finding my own way out!" Mine agrees with Joseph as she decides to wait and see what would happen within these twenty minutes.
"I'm pretty sure it's nothing serious! You get tensed up pretty easily." The brunette acknowledged.
Titanic's Bridge
12:25 A.M
The captain was fixated on the ship's design sheets as the ship's builder Thomas Andrew's was making his analysis on the damage.
"Here's the position. Water in the fore-peak, numbers one and two holds, the mail room and boiler rooms six and five. That means a 300 foot long gash from there to there…..Below the water line." Andrew says as he pushes the tip of his pencil into the sheet and drags it along for a few seconds.
"Do you agree?" Andrew's asks the captain.
"Yes! Well?"
"The pumps are keeping the water down in this boiler room but the first five compartments are flooding." Andrew acknowledges, knowing that something bad was about to be said towards his fellow captain.
"Well, what's the answer?"
"She's going to founder, Captain." Those words alone was enough to describe the severity of the entire situation, fear overcame the captain's body as he couldn't believe this.
"But she can't…..She's unsinkable!" Smith protests but deep down he knows that it can't be a lie. Andrews is the builder of this ship as well as her sister Olympic.
"She can't float….Look. She can float with any three of her first five watertight compartments flooded, she can even float with four of them gone but she can't do that with all five filled up."
"Yes but-"
"These bulkheads here only go as high as E deck….The weight of water in the bow is going to pull her down by the head. So you're going to get the fifth compartment overflowing into the sixth and seventh and so on as she gets lower, it's a mathematical certainty but with that amount of underwater damage she can't stay afloat." Delivering the news in such a calm manner despite feeling the sense of intense dread on the inside. They were built to withstand disasters but this is one they didn't expect. Grabbing his notepad and flipping the pages.
Smith was resting his hands against the counter as his eyes were still fixated on Andrews.
"How long will she last?" He questioned.
"Just trying to work that out now." The architect answered. "As far as I can see she made fourteen feet of water in the first ten minutes after the collision….Not very fast. She should live another hour and a half. Yes….about that I think."
"There must be no panic." Smith responded, panic on a ship this big with such little time left is a worst case scenario.
"No."
"You'll be careful on what you say to the passengers?"
"Of course."
"How many on board?"
"2200 or more and room in the boats for?"
"Twelve Hundred."
Hearing that answer, the captain released a sigh out of the mixture of fear and immediate dread. "I don't think the Board of Trade regulations visualized this situation. Do you?" The captain says as he turns his head towards the architect, making his way towards the door and leaving Andrew's room.
The architect reached into his pocket to pull out a small clock, visualizing the exact time and taking note on it.
The captain walked out of the wheelhouse door and for a brief moment, his gaze was attracted to the beautiful stars that were out tonight. The noise that was being displayed was deafening and extremely loud but that's the noise of steam escaping the ship through the funnels. Making his way towards the crew where they were standing, awaiting the good or bad news. Standing right in front of them as his eyes were focused. "Gentlemen, we are in a precarious position. We must be prepared to abandon ship." The captain announces as his eyes focus towards Murdoch.
"Mr. Murdoch! You will muster the passengers. Lightoller, you will have the boats uncovered and swung out. Mr. Boxhall, call all hands and get them to the boat stations. Moody, you'll help Mr. Lightoller. Mr. Wilde and Mr. Pitman will remain on the bridge. Everything will be done quietly and calmly. There must be no alarm and no panic. I'll give the word when the boats are to be loaded with the women and children." The crew were in shock to hear this announcement, laying the possibility of disaster on a high pedestal.
"Carry on, Please." The crew disembark and the captain heads to the port side but is interrupted by J. Bruce Ismay, the owner of the company that made Titanic known as the White Star Line.
"Captain! Aren't you exaggerating the danger?" Ismay immediately questions the captain.
"I'm afraid not, sir."
"Well, where's Andrews?"
"I am acting on his advice. This ship is going to founder."
"But she can't! In any case, we can't get everyone into the boats!"
"I know that, Sir. Please God, it won't come to that." Smith finishes as he disembarks to his intended position. Leaving Ismay speechless and mostly terrified for the upcoming hours.
Wireless Room.
The captain barges into the room. "The ship is badly damaged." Grabbing a piece of paper and writing the ship's location down. "Send out the call for distress."
"The regulation distress call?"
"Yes and at once. As soon as you're in touch with the ship nearest of us, tell them to come as quickly as they can. You understand?"
"Yes, sir."
Smith handing the wireless men the sheet that displays their current location.
"That's our position." As Smith already pointed that out, leaving the room and off to attend other businesses.
The wireless workers wasted no time setting up the gear and calling for other ships to meet their assistance. The buzzing and clicking sounds ignited as the men used their knowledge on Morse code to alert nearby vessels.