Shortly afterwards, Molly persuaded some of the other passengers in our boat to start rowing. Since the captain had tried in vain to call us back, a young man emerged from somewhere. It was puzzling – he was clearly not a first class passenger, nor was he a seaman. In fact, as one of the other women pointed out, he had not been there before the boat was lowered. After all, Molly had made a point of drawing our attention to the lack of seamen in the boat, and surely – as the woman continued – we should have noticed if there was a young man there. Besides, another woman mentioned blithely, men had not been admitted into the boat – with the sole exception of the Major; and he only because he claimed to have experience of sailing. Be that as it may, this young man was on board now, and Hitchens ordered him to take an oar – reminding us again that we would be sucked down by the sinking ship if we didn't hurry.
Another problem arose when one of the women beside this young man noticed that his arm was injured in some manner. "Probably," Hitchens snapped. "Probably from falling in." The major, who was still rowing, asked Hitchens to allow one of the women to take the 'tiller'.
"We need another hand on the oars, if what you say is true," he reminded him.
Hithens scowled in response. "I am in command of this boat, and it is your job to row! Now, pull!"
Eventually Molly was forced to ask another passenger to help to row, as we were barely making any progress now. The woman, who was wearing the uniform of a stewardess, appeared to be perfectly capable of rowing and we soon began to move quicker. The seaman who had originally been rowing before Molly took over also took an oar, Ruth helped Molly with hers and I found myself rowing with the stewardess. I looked over my shoulder and saw that a few of the other women had also joined in, and so we quickly began to make progress. Still, that didn't appear to be good enough for Hitchens, who was still in a dark, pessimistic mood.
"When she goes down, the suction will pull everything down with her. Everything for miles around!"
The major responded angrily, "I beg your pardon, good sir, but you are frightening the women!"
I almost rolled my eyes at this. I knew that I wasn't frightened by these comments – irritated, yes, but far from frightened. I was far more worried about Will. Still, Hitchens continued his gloomy predictions.
"It's true, I tell you! Does no one remember what happened when we left Southampton docks?"
He got no reply, other than a few blank and confused expressions. This didn't deter him.
"A liner was almost sucked into our path!"
"Good God, give me strength!" I heard someone behind me mutter.
"When she goes under, the boilers will explode. We'll all be killed if we don't get away from here!"
Some panicked whispering was heard across the boat, but Molly quickly quietened them down, scowling at Hitchens all the while.
It was only then that I looked back at the ship. I had no idea how much time had passed since the last time I had looked at it, but by now the bow was almost completely underwater and the stern was slowly rising out of the ocean. My eyes widened at the sight – to think that only a few hours ago I was safely asleep on that ship!
The noise from the doomed ship was becoming louder, and even Hitchens turned to look back at her. The ship surely couldn't last for much longer, but there were still so many people onboard! Where was the rescue ship? Surely someone would be coming to our aid soon?
"What about that light on the horizon?" Someone asked, looking behind us.
"There is no point in lights," Hitchens responded gloomily. "We aren't moving quickly enough. We're all doomed."
I leant over to Molly and whispered to her, "This would be amusing if it wasn't so serious."
She nodded in agreement. Under any other circumstances, I would consider Hitchens to be a fine comedian. His comments were timed perfectly – but they did nothing to raise the spirits of the passengers in our little boat.
"Oh, look!"
The woman beside me had stopped rowing and was pointing towards the ship. We all followed her terrified gaze to see that the stern had risen considerably out of the ocean. She was still visible sinking. I felt sick just looking in that direction. I lowered my gaze and tried to focus on the oar I was holding. I couldn't do it – a loud snapping sound echoed across the ocean and I looked up. One of the funnels collapsed into the sea. This was followed by the bright lights going out, but quickly lighting up again.
I don't know how much time passed as we just sat there, frozen in one position, staring at the ship. The stern was rising quickly now, and screams from the passengers still onboard could be heard. I could feel tears standing in my eyes as I gazed at it. God, please let Will get off before it goes under!
"God almighty!" Molly whispered, in a tone of disbelief.
After another minute or so, the lights went out – and this time they did not come back on. I closed my eyes. It must be awful to be on a sinking ship with no light as comfort. Why had this boat not been filled? Why hadn't we returned when the captain had called?
My eyes shot open again as an awful, deathly crash echoed from the ship. There was a unanimous sharp intake of breath as we watched her split in half, leaving the stern to crash down. Someone behind me commented triumphantly.
"I told you that ship couldn't sink!"
She was horribly wrong. Within moments, as we watched, the stern began to rise again. This time it rose until it was completely vertical and slowly, so slowly, began to slip down into the ocean. So many screams echoed out as the stern started to go under. My gaze was fixed on the disappearing stern until it was gone. Only then did I realise that tears were slipping down my cheeks.
Screams and cries from where Titanic used to be echoed across the ocean. A whistle could be heard soon after, but no one in our boat responded. We all just stared, expressions of pure terror across our faces. This didn't last for long, however. Molly snapped out of her daze first.
"We should go back."
A couple of other voices agreed with her.
"No," Hitchens replied sourly. "We'll keep moving away."
"Don't be ridiculous, sir!" The Major snorted. "It is our duty to return to pick up any survivors!"
"Yes, he's right, you know!" The chorus of other passengers rose, and I also nodded vigorously in agreement.
"You don't understand," Hitchens insisted, dismally. "If we go back they'll swamp the boat. They'll pull us right down, I'm telling you!"
Molly stood up, staring at him coldly. "Knock it off. You're scaring me," her voice was laced with sarcasm. "Come on, girls, grab an oar. Let's go."
"Are you out of your mind?" Hitchens exclaimed. "We're in the middle of the North Atlantic! Now, do you people want to live or do you want to die?"
Molly looked around for support, but it seemed Hitchens had succeeded in dampening their spirits again. She didn't give up, and instead chose to play Hitchens at his own game.
"I don't understand a one of you! What's the matter with you? It's your men out there!"
Some started sobbing uncontrollably at this point, but I agreed with every word Molly said – my Will was out there somewhere, and I didn't want to leave yet. Molly continued confidently.
"There's plenty of room for more!"
"And there'll be one less on this boat," Hitchens raised his voice, furiously. "If you don't shut that hole in your face!"
Molly and Hitchens stared at eachother until she sat down. The major spoke up again.
"I say, do you know you're speaking to a lady?"
"I know bloody well who I'm talking to! I am in charge of this boat and I say we are not going back for a lot of stiffs!"
A silence fell, and we could hear the cries of the people in the water so far away. The major leant over to me and patted my arm gently.
"It's alright, miss. Someone will go back. It is no use arguing with that man," he gestured towards Hitchens, who scowled in our direction. "It is best not to discuss matters with him."
I just stared back at the scene of the sinking, letting the tears fall freely down my cheeks.
