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breelandwalker · 2 years

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The Grimsby Trawler Sargon

For anyone who needs a little hope punk today, and especially for fans of the epic story of the RMS Carpathia (detailed in this wonderful series of posts), here's the story of the Sargon, a fishing trawler out of Grimsby, UK - the ship that came back from the dead.

On January 5, 1923, the steam-powered fishing trawler Sargon set sail from Grimsby, headed into the North Sea for what was supposed to be a routine voyage. Skipper J. McCarthy and his crew of about two dozen were expecting cold weather, challenging seas, and, they hoped, a decent catch. Less than 24 hours into their voyage, the first of several twists of fate would come their way.

In the early hours of January 6th, in heavy seas, a distress signal rocket was sighted in the distance. The order was given to make for the beacon at full speed. It took several hours to reach the other ship and just as the sun was coming up, the Sargon came upon another fishing trawler - the Ethel Nutton out of Scotland. The other ship was in dire straits. Swamped by the waves, the crew were clinging desperately to the rigging above the raging water, waving their arms as best they could and shouting for help.

McCarthy ordered the lifeboats to be launched, only to find that they'd been dislodged and lost in the high waves on their way to investigate the distress signal. In a daring move, McCarthy ordered the Sargon to come alongside the Nutton, as close as they could manage, and shouted to the crew to secure lines to themselves and throw them across the gap so that his crew could pull them to safety.

The situation was beyond precarious. At any moment, the waves might swamp the Nutton or throw the two ships together, dragging both crews to the depths. Working quickly, the Nutton's crew secured their lines and threw them across and McCarthy and his men began pulling them to safety. After many harrowing minutes, the entire crew of the Nutton was safely aboard the Sargon, with the ships drifting so close by the end that the last few men were able to jump across and land on the deck.

The Sargon turned for Scotland to bring the exhausted sailors home. An attempt was made to tow the Nutton back to port, but she'd been too heavily damaged by the ordeal and eventually sank. Soon after, the Sargon arrived in Granton Port and delivered the Nutton's crew into the arms of their families. Skipper McCarthy humbly declined the hero's welcome, and within a day, the Sargon was underway once more.

But the whims of fate were not yet done with the Grimsby trawler.

On January 28th, the Sargon arrived in the White Sea and after an initially disappointing run managed to land a catch from a huge shoal of fish that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Low on fuel, McCarthy ordered the crew to head for Tromso, Norway to take on enough coal to get them home.

They would never make it.

The next evening, a flotilla of ice shoals surrounded the trawler, making progress next to impossible. The crew frantically shoveled their remaining coal into the furnace powering the steam engine, only to watch it splutter out with land nowhere in sight. Without propulsion, the Sargon drifted at the whims of the winter currents. Snow squalls and high winds pushed her northwest, out of the regularly-traveled shipping lanes. Within days, they were lost in a jagged white landscape of icebergs, impenetrable mists, and bitter cold.

The crew burned everything that would take a flame. The wooden paneling, the boards from their bunks, even the fishing nets were given to the fire to keep them from freezing. When their provisions ran out, they began to eat the fish they'd caught. This led to a number of cases of dysentery, but thankfully the ship's small cache of medical supplies was enough to treat the sick.

It must be remembered at this point that this was well before the days when most smaller ships would be equipped with radios, long-distance communication, and global positioning. Once a ship was out of sight of land, it was up to the skills of the navigator to get them where they needed to go and avoid hazards along the way. Without other nearby ships to see a signal beacon or distress flare, there was little hope of anyone finding them as they had found the Ethel Nutton.

McCarthy spent hours on deck in the icy fog. He tried every trick he knew to fix their position by the stars, but it was useless. In a fit of despair, he threw his sextant overboard. With the vital navigational tool now lost and the ice holding their ship at a dead standstill, the crew's fate looked grim.

Eventually, the storms abated and the weather warmed. However, this meant that the ice pack was now on the move as well. The crew watching helplessly as mountains of ice, large enough to crush the Sargon without even breaking pace, moved toward their vessel. The trawler was surrounded. Walls of ice crushed in around them with horrible groaning, crunching sounds. Doom seemed very near at hand.

Then, by some miracle, the ice pack opened and the current shifted, pulling the disabled trawler back toward open water. Still without power, they drifted south.

Five days later, a ship appeared on the horizon. The crew fired a distress flare and the Schleswig Holstein, a trawler out of Germany, came swiftly to their rescue. The Sargon was towed to the port of Reykjavik in Iceland, where she underwent repairs and the crewmen were treated for hypothermia and malnutrition. As soon as they were able, they sent a wire to their home port and set off for England.

On March 10, 1923, to the amazement of a town that had given them up for lost, the Sargon sailed into port at Grimsby, returning Shipper McCarthy and his entire crew safely home. They had been at sea for 65 days and presumed lost since February 20th. Steam whistles from other ships blew loudly in triumph and the crowd that had gathered to meet them sent up a tearful cacophony of relief and welcome. McCarthy, ever humble, simply said, "A greater captain than I was in command of the Sargon."

(For an amazing rendition of this story, I recommend "Trapped in the Ice - The Astonishing Sea Voyage of The Sargon" on the Our Curious Past podcast, hosted by Peter Laws.)

#not my usual content but damn i love me some hope punk #history #hope punk #sailing #epic stories

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qqueenofhades · 2 years

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51. "There are worse ways to die." for fanmade Timeless season 4 Garcy.

51. "There are worse ways to die."

The forward hold of the RMS Carpathia is cold, crowded, echoing with the bangs of the steamer's engines and the turbulent, icy ocean outside, and dark as a starless sky. A darkness that Lucy doesn't think she was truly aware of until now, despite everything that they have been through. The air down here is hardly warmer than the air out there, and her clothes are still soaked, freezing, and clinging to her like an icy carapace, despite the heap of old blankets that she is buried under. She vaguely recalls hearing something about how you're supposed to take them off in order to prevent hypothermia, but it seems a little late for it now. Besides, if she did, she would have to let go of Flynn, and she's not doing that. Not now. Not for a while.

Flynn is shivering too, his clothes driven through with frozen needles and rimes of hoarfrost, and Lucy shifts her position, pulling him more closely to her. They still can barely see each other in the murk, but they duck their heads and kiss again, her fingers clutching at the chilly skin of his face, the rasp of his unshaven stubble. She doesn't want to stop, and if this is just a dream, she doesn't want to wake up. She's not going to forget, ever, what it felt like to believe that he was dead, that the Titanic took him down with her, and his valiant quest to save Rufus and Iris led to Lucy losing him in a way that can't be undone. The thought still horrifies her. She can't. She can't.

"It's all right," Flynn whispers, his voice soft and rough in the dark. "I'm alive, Lucy. I'm here."

Lucy wants to answer, but her mouth still only utters a little whimper. She spots the dim glow of a brazier nearby, and regardless of the ever-present risk of fire in close quarters belowdecks, picks them both up and crab-scuttles them nearer. The air is starting to warm with the press of bodies and the kindling of makeshift stoves, and their clothes are dripping like crazy. It's wet and clammy and not particularly comfortable, but Lucy doesn't care. Now that she can see him better, she keeps tracing his face with her fingers, memorizing him by touch, marveling at her own stupidity in not doing this for so long. She is awake, she insists to herself. She is awake, and this is real.

Flynn doesn't stop her, since he knows why. He doesn't speak either, just gazes at her with all the devotion in the world in his eyes. At last, he catches her hand, lifts it to his lips, and presses a kiss to her palm, curling her fingers around it. "There, now," he says. "We need to find some dry clothes before we do freeze. It would be stupid to survive the most famous shipwreck in history, only to keel over since we were too stubborn to sacrifice our fancy outfits."

Lucy chokes on an unhinged laugh. It's so like him -- the brusque pragmatism, the dry sarcasm, the poking subtle fun at how ridiculous this all was and remains to be -- that she can't stand it. She turns up her face, desperate for another kiss, and Flynn obliges, his mouth a whisper on hers, gentle and reassuring. "You know," he says at last, meditatively. "If I had gone down back there -- "

"No, Garcia. No, don't say it." Lucy clutches at him. "You're fine, remember? We're fine. We're here."

Flynn smiles abstractedly, and she knows that he's still thinking about Iris. He could hardly be doing anything else. "Yes," he says. "And I'm glad for it. But there are... there are worse ways to die. Making sure that my family was safe. Iris, and you, and Rufus, and even bloody Wyatt. Don't ask me when that happened, but.... still."

Lucy's heart aches as if someone has wrapped it in a fist and squeezed. She wants to tell him that nothing, nothing could be worth losing him, but she doesn't want to take it away from Flynn, the realization of what the entire team has, at last, become so very worth to him. He gets up, then, and pulls her after him. Hand in hand, they go in search of dry clothes, warm food, Wyatt, and the remainder of the voyage to New York. We survived, Lucy thinks, giddy with euphoria and agony and a relief beyond all words and time. We survived. We're here. We're here. We're here.

(And, God willing, they always will be.)

[fic prompts]

#lucy x flynn #garcy #garcy ff #timeless s4 #fic prompts #anonymous #ask

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temeraire · 1 year

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@boombox-fuckboy got me

Three Ships:

art/perihelion (the murderbot diaries)

the irons (archive 81) <- stealing its answer as well as its joke

rms carpathia (the real one that rescued the titanic survivors)

First Ship: i cant remember the first time i was on a boat but it was probably one of the brisbane river ferries when i was real little

Last Song: tombi - kvi baba

Last Movie: i think the last time i sat down and actually watched a movie was get out?

Currently Reading: nothing atm but im thinking about starting kill six billion demons because ive heard good things

Currently Watching: waitin for trigun stampede saturday sunday to roll round so i can watch that

Currently Consuming: just used mouthwash

Currently Craving: sleep. but i will probably crave coffee when i wake up

Currently Listening To: going through some mbmbam backlog for comfort noise; i haven't started a new podcast in a while though i keep meaning to

taggin uhhhh @donutcats @cringedog @skyburialatnight @vexahliia @boyish <- u were all visible when i opened my notifs sorry

#i dont even think i have a tag for tag games thats how rarely i do em #monologues #im so sleepy hough and i have blisters on the bottom of my foot which is solid evidence against a loving god

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skylordhorus · 1 year

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ugh i think i remember watching this thing that talked about the rms carpathia and how they prepped hot drinks and linens and diverted the heat to the rooms they were planning on housing the survivors, and how they raced to the titanic pushing well over the expected speed to the point where someone placed their hat over the gauge so they couldnt see it in the red

ANYWAY it was just.. so compassionate, so.... reverent almost but i cant for the life of me think what it was from and its bugging me

#*deep space noises*#it wasnt from anything abt the titanic i dont think #it was probably a brief aside in some random video essay or smth that was barely related #probs one i watched several times but that does not narrow it down and i remember nothing else #especially since ive skewed the memory over the past couple of days skimming bits of titanic docs just in case #maybe it wasnt even a video and i just very vividly remember some text post because it touched me so much

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ethwastaken · 2 years

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you ever can't find like a video or something that you've been searching for for like hours?? bro i'm losing my fucking mind right now

#i'm really into ships again all of a sudden #and i remembered the rms carpathia and her story and shit but i cannot for the life of me remember where i learned about her #amazing ship i love her so much #and like i don't remember if i was told about it if it was a podcast if i read something or if it was a youtube video #pretty sure it was a video but i cannot find it bro i'm struggling so hard right now i hate it #eth talks

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titanic-honor-and-glory · 3 years

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On this day 109 years ago, late in the evening at 11:40 pm, RMS Titanic sighted and struck an iceberg resulting in the ship sinking around 2:20 am, the morning of April 15, 1912. Today we remember the 1,496 people that were lost in the sinking and the 712 that were rescued by the RMS Carpathia.

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cassianus · 3 years

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Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloom,

Lead Thou me on!

The night is dark, and I am far from home,

Lead Thou me on!

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene; one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou

Shouldst lead me on;

I loved to choose and see my path; but now

Lead Thou me on!

I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,

Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years!

So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still

Will lead me on.

O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till

The night is gone,

And with the morn those angel faces smile,

Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!

St. John H. Newman, C.O.

**********************

"Lead, Kindly Light" was sung by Betsie ten Boom, sister of Corrie ten Boom, and other women as they were led by the S.S. Guards to the concentration camp Ravensbruck during the Holocaust.

Lead, Kindly Light was sung by a soloist, Marion Wright, on the RMS Titanic during a hymn-singing gathering led by Rev. Ernest C. Carter, shortly before the ocean liner struck an iceberg on April 14, 1912.

The hymn was also sung aboard one of the Titanic's lifeboats when the rescue ship Carpathia was sighted the following morning. It was suggested by one of the occupants, Noëlle, Countess of Rothes

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anoseforrottenapples · 3 years

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The RMS Carpathia--Gavin Troy--Timeguardians/Rose DeWitt

@timeguardians

Able Bodied Seaman Gavin Troy had only slept in twenty-minute snatches since early in the morning on April 15th, That was when they first received the distress calls from the RMS Titanic and Captain Rostron ordered the RMS Carpathia to respond. The Titanic sank before they arrived but they still fished seven-hundred-and-five people out of the icy Atlantic. Since then, they had been doing everything they could to help them. Troy found himself in the heart of those duties. Quarters had to be arranged for all the new passengers. Luckily, the Carpathia had left New York at barely a third capacity so they had the room to accommodate them. They also had to arrange for clothes and food. On top of that was the sheer psychological toll of what had happened—something that the crew and original passengers of the Carpathia were ill equipped to handle though they were doing their best. By mid-day on the 16th, Troy’s commanding officer ordered him to get a meal and then some rest. He had more then pulled his weight over the last thirty-or-so hours. Stifling an exhausted yawn behind one hand, the young officer grabbed the staircase railing with his other so he would not stumble or trip on the familiar stairs in his muddled state. Spotting a young woman in the corridor ahead of him interrupted his route to the crew quarters. He suspected she was one of the survivors—he could not remember seeing her among the regular passengers they had taken on in New York. “Ma’am?” he addressed her before he approached her, unwilling to sneak up on her. Everyone on board was exhausted and stressed—emotions were running high and nerves were taunt. In such an atmosphere, avoiding surprises was best. “Are you lost?” He asked a more guided question once he got closer, seeking a way to help her as quickly as possible so he could continue his quest for a meal and some more coffee.

#timeguardians #Rose #Closed Verse: RMS Carpathia #tw: death mention

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much-brighter-ink · 3 years

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I did some research for most of these but the ones I didn’t fact check are noted as such-

The ships profile has four smokestacks, but only three were necessary because of the ship’s advanced engineering. The fourth was there for the ✨aesthetic✨ (like,,,, actually for the aesthetic-)

There’s a book called The Wreck Of The Titan, written by Morgan Robertson, which came out in 1898. In the book, a British Ocean Liner called The Titan sinks after hitting an iceberg. And guess what, in the book the ship sinks in April somewhere in the North Atlantic, just like the titanic did. Other similarities include the similar sizes of the ships, and the shortage of life boats.

The ship was considered “unsinkable” (how ironic) for a lot of reasons, most of which make sense because it was extremely well engineered. Iirc, the doors on the lower levels were water tight and designed to close if there was too much water to prevent flooding from spreading (don’t quote me on this-)

You probably already know this but a major factor that contributed to how many lives were lost is the lack of life boats. There were 16 wooden lifeboats and 4 collapsibles, which could only carry 1,178 people (about one-third of the Titanic’s total capacity). What’s kinda sad is that this was actually above the legal requirement for British vessels as ships the size of the titanic (along with the rest of the White Star Line) were only required 16 lifeboats with a capacity for 990 people.

The RMS Carpathia was the ship that answered to the Titanic’s distress calls. There was a ship that was much closer (I don’t remember what it was called but I’m pretty sure it was a White Star Line ship) but iirc their radio operator was off duty and didn’t receive the calls (Don’t quote me on this-)

The sinking of the Titanic caused a lot of changes when it came to ship operation. Ships are now required to carry enough life boats for every passenger, the Radio Act of 1912 was passed to regulate the use of certain bandwidths among the navy and amateur radio operators, and the Ice Patrol was created to monitor the movement of icebergs

THIS IS DELIGHTFUL (the knowledge, not the facts because... sad) THANK YOU

Huh I learned a lot out of this, who knew? (also... I find it so funny that the fourth smokestack was genuinely there for the aesthetic-)

#friends infodumping #i'm making this a tag because i love it okay

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lon3lynation · 4 years

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Promise To Never Let Go (Day 6: Titanic Clexa AU)

Can also be read on AO3.

“Where to, Miss?”

“To the stars.”

Dull blue eyes gazed helplessly above at the bright and magnificent night sky that was accompanied by twinkling stars. They could be seen reflecting off the water. It was beautiful, but it only felt like a cruel tease the more she stared and tuned out her surroundings. More than anything, Clarke yearned for Lexa to take them to the stars. Instead, her body was frozen stiff on top of a door while floating in the Atlantic ocean. Tears begged to be wept, but her tear ducts have long since frozen any that attempted to fall.

“When this ship docks, I’m getting off with you.”

“This is crazy.”

“I know. It doesn’t make any sense. That’s why I trust it.”

Clarke squeezed her eyes shut before opening them again in fear that they would freeze in position. Slowly, she rolled her cold and numb body to the side, shuddering at the feel of her icy skin peeling from the wood. It was unnerving how gradually the calm and silent overtook the night. Panicked screams, uncontrollable prayers, and desperate calling of names had filled the air while the Titanic continued to sink deeper into the ocean. She had also found herself screaming, shouting with all her might, and love for Lexa earlier.

People all around her were splashing frantically, knowing that death would soon claim them all, but one had tried to introduce her to end sooner by nearly drowning her when she first surfaced. A stranger tried to use her body outfitted with a lifejacket to stay afloat, but she struggled and fought desperately to break his hold. She hit him with a swift jab that knocked him loose and quickly took the chance to escape. Lexa would have been proud to have seen it. It was then she realized that Lexa wasn’t anywhere to be found. She yelled and swam searching for Lexa while shoving past passengers until eventually noticing the bodies going silent and still. Her body and mind screamed at her that she would perish too if she continued searching.

“I love you. Lexa.”

“No, don’t say your good-byes, Clarke. Don’t you give up. Don’t do it.”

“We’re going down!”

“Clarke, listen to me. Listen. Winning that ticket was the best thing that ever happened to me. It brought me to you. And I’m thankful, Clarke. I’m thankful. You must do me this honor... promise me you will survive... that you will never give up... no matter what happens... no matter how hopeless... promise me now, and never let go of that promise.”

“I promise.”

“Never let go.”

“I promise. I will never let go, Lexa. I’ll never let go.”

“Okay, good. Now take a deep breath and hold it right before we go into the water. The ship will suck us down. Kick for the surface and keep kicking. Don’t let go of my hand. We’re gonna make it, Clarke. Trust me.”

“I trust you. I jump, you jump, remember?”

Clarke wanted to hold onto her promise to Lexa, but she was supposed to be able to hold onto Lexa too. She had her, she was hers with a future together on the horizon, and they were going to make it. Unfortunately, that hope dwindled as soon as they hit the water, she had held tightly onto Lexa’s hand until something had yanked her beloved from her grip and forced her to the surface alone. All she could do was scream and search for her until even that was taken from her. Her voice turned hoarse and weak, her body slowed and grew numb from the 28 degrees ocean. Reluctantly her search changed to searching for something to keep her out of the open water. Luckily, she had found the door that was presently keeping her afloat.

However, Clarke couldn’t find it in herself to feel lucky. She had somehow lost Lexa in the depths of the ocean, not knowing if she was clinging to life like Clarke was or if her body was among the floating corpses somewhere around her unseen. She wanted to hold out hope, but the quiet was eating away at her, and her body was so, so, so cold. The longer she was left on top of the door without rescue, her aching heart would surely come to an unending halt. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open and hold out, but Clarke was no longer even sure if she had reason to keep trying. She felt so weak, so close to embracing her icy death, and hopeful she’ll somehow see Lexa again.

Clarke was so grateful that she had taken her chance to tell Lexa that she loves her. At least Lexa had known her love, that her heart would forever be cherished in life, and even in death. It was simply unfair they didn't have more time together. What they had was so new and so beautiful. She would have never believed that she could genuinely fall in love with someone, another woman at that, in just a few days. Lexa turned what seemed like an impossibility into a possibility and swept Clarke off her feet.

“Lexa,” she weakly whispered to the stars above, her frozen lips cracking when they parted.

All hope, will, and spirit were leaving her stranded, just like how the lifeboats in the distance had neglected to come to their rescue when they called out to them. She doesn’t know how long it has been since she and Lexa entered the water but it felt like an eternity when it was perhaps closer to 40 minutes. It appeared that no one was coming to their rescue, and if they were, it would be too late by then to find any survivors. With the dead silence surrounding her, it left her wondering if she was the only one left clinging to life. It was foolish of her to still be hanging on when everyone’s spirits have already departed them. Embracing death, no matter if she wanted it or not, felt like her last and only option.

She just needed to let go.

Taking one last look at the night sky, Clarke let her eyes flutter closed.

A moment later, a light flared across the water, silhouetting the bobbing corpses in between the boat and Clarke. It traveled past her motionless form before moving on. The boat is 50 feet away, and moving past her to continue their search.

Clarke’s eyes snapped open.

Voices.

She heard distorted and hollow voices. Blearily vision sought the sound out and tracked a lifeboat that was stretching the distance between them. At first, she couldn't believe her eyes and simply watched the boat move further away. Clarke had accepted that she wasn’t going to get rescued in time, and the boat passed her by. She wanted to close her eyes again and wait for death to claim her. The will to let go was right there, and all she had to do was let it happen.

But...

Lexa made her promise to never let go.

If she let go now, wouldn’t that be breaking her promise to her?

She couldn’t let herself break it. She couldn’t disappoint Lexa.

Lexa would want her to keep fighting. Seeing that she was still breathing and there was a real chance of a rescue, she couldn’t just turn away from it. Clarke promised that no matter what happens or how hopeless that she would live on.

She needed to live. For Lexa.

“Hel--” her voice faltered. “Help!” Clarke struggled to move because her voice was failing her. The boat had rowed dreadfully out of her view. “Over here!” Knowing there was no other choice, Clarke plunged herself into the icy water, her hair tugging painfully from where it had frozen to the door. She swam to where a Chief Officer with a whistle was nearby and clutch onto his body. Taking the whistle from his frozen mouth, she gathered all the strength that was left in her body and blew the whistle. The sound struck across the still water.

Clarke keeps blowing and doesn’t stop until the whistle is taken from her stiff lips when her rescuers reached down and hauled her into the boat. Finally rescued and safe, Clarke fell unconscious with dreams of Lexa and that the unsinkable Titanic never actually sunk.

_________________________

When Clarke woke up, she found herself and about 700 other survivors aboard the RMS Carpathia. The crew gave her dry clothes and had her evaluated by 1 of their 3 doctors. She was told that she had reached Stage 3 of Hypothermia and that she likely would have died if the rescue had arrived any later than they had. It didn’t surprise her and knew she should consider it a miracle that she was alive. They swaddled her in a blanket, fed her, and offered her hot tea.

She slowly roamed around the steamliner, her eyes taking in the pale faces of survivors around her, hoping to see familiar, knowledgeable green eyes.

She didn’t.

Eventually, Clarke settled on the deck with her hot beverage to watch the rising morning sun and the last of the rescued lifeboats being hoisted up. They all just survived something horrible together, and yet Clarke felt utterly alone. Falling into a trance with an emotionless face, Clarke silently mourned.

“Is that you, Clarke?” a different familiar voice shook her out of it.

Finn.

Clarke clenched her jaw at the sight of Finn looking her over. She looked like a refuge with matted hair hanging over her eyes.

“Yes, I lived. How awkward, huh?”

“Clarke, your mother and I have been looking for you.”

Holding a hand up, Clarke put a stop to whatever Finn had in mind to say next. She didn’t want to hear it. He was the reason why Lexa was prevented from getting on a lifeboat with her. They could have been both saved if he had just put aside his hurt ego and let Lexa join her.

“Please don’t. Shut up and just listen. From this moment, you do not exist for me, nor I for you. You shall not see me again. And you will not attempt to find me. Is this in any way unclear to you?”

Clarke ignored the way Finn looked at her with big sad eyes. He received a lethal glare in return.

“What do I tell your mother?”

Clarke hesitated before replying with a weary sigh.

“Tell her I died with the Titanic.”

Turning around to face the rail again, Clarke dismissed Finn.

“Goodbye, Finn.”

Finn reluctantly left, leaving her to replay her the past few days in her head again.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am. I need your name.”

Clarke looked back to see an Officer holding a list of all the names of the survivors.

“Um, Clarke Griffin. Actually, make that Woods. Clarke Woods.”

The man looked her over curiously before nodding and writing the name down.

“I think I just noted down your sister’s name a bit ago. Have you seen to her?”

“Sister? I don’t have a sister.”

“I know you said Woods, but Griffin? Lexa Griffin? Figured there was a relation there, my apologies, Miss.”

Clarke froze on the spot. It was wishful thinking. It had to be. Lexa had been lost to the sea. Right? But what were the chances that there was a survivor named Lexa Griffin?

“Lexa Griffin? Where did you leave her? Tell me!”

“Oh, I last saw her resting in one of the Officer’s cabins that were converted.”

Clarke dropped her nearly empty cup of tea to rush to where the cabins were situated below deck. It takes a few long, tense minutes to push past the crowd filled with crew and survivors to get to the correct level. Her heart was beating like crazy, and her body was protesting her rapid movements. She was still weak and needed to take it easy while she recovered. There was a possibility that Lexa had survived though, and she desperately needed to see if her sudden hope was senseless or not. She slammed into an Officer’s room, scanning the bleak faces of a few passengers and not finding the features she wanted to see. Quietly apologizing, she backed out the room and rushed into the next converted room.

Not her.

Not… wait.

Clarke’s eyes settled on a slim figure sitting on the edge of a bed, hunched over with blankets wrapped around their whole body. Clarke shook as she slowly inched forward, both hopeful and scared to look upon the hooded person’s face. Swallowing deeply, Clarke stood before the clearly defeated form of a woman and let herself say her beloved’s name out loud.

“Lexa?”

The huddled form flinched at her voice before slowly raising a trembling hand to push back the blanket and finally revealing those beautiful familiar eyes Clarke has wished to witness again.

“Oh my god, Lexa!”

Lexa’s face slackened in shock at the sight of Clarke.

“Clarke?” she rasped, her devastation quickly turned into euphoria as she jumped up to embrace Clarke tightly.

“It's you! It’s really you.” Clarke cried heartily before tucking her face into the curve of Lexa’s neck. “I thought I lost you.”

“Clarke, Clarke, Clarke,” Lexa repeated, nearly crushing Clarke as she attempted to pull her deeper into her. “You’re here.”

“I’m here, Lexa. We’re both here. We made it.”

“I-I believed you were gone, Clarke. I was so lost without you.”

“Me too. God, I thought I wasn’t going to make it and hoped I’d get to see you again in the afterlife.” Clarke sighed, pecking the cool skin beneath her lips before leaning back to gaze at Lexa’s face. “I remembered my promise to you, though. I didn’t let go.”

Clarke’s eyes fluttered shut when Lexa moved her hands to hold her face, her fingers slightly trembling against her cheeks. She couldn’t believe that she was feeling Lexa’s touch again. It was real. She didn’t have to go on without Lexa.

“Thank you for keeping your promise. I’m so proud of you for surviving. I didn’t know if you were alive or not but I didn’t think it was fair of me if I didn’t silently promise the same to you. I didn’t want to be without you, but I fought to live for you, Clarke.” Lexa gulped as tears filled her eyes, threatening to fall. “I love you. Oh, do I love you so.”

Clarke felt something crack within her and found herself weeping into Lexa’s chest.

“I love you, I love you,” she cried softly before feeling Lexa maneuver them to sit on the mattress.

Lexa adjusted the blankets around them until they were sharing them and their body heat as she pressed firmly against Clarke. She leaned down and press soothing kisses to Clarke’s head, rubbing her hand along the slant of her back. Lexa let her own tears fall as they both processed and expressed every feeling that overtook their tired bodies. It was hard to accept how close they came to losing each other and that for hours, they truly believed that death had separated them. It was taxing to instantly go from feeling such loss, grief to relief, and elation. It would take a little time to fully process everything to let the pain that they were still feeling fade.

Minutes later, when the tears slowly came to a stop, Clarke tilted her head and lovingly captured Lexa’s lips into a kiss. Simply forgetting and uncaring that there were others in the room, Lexa melted into Clarke and exchanged soft kisses to refamiliarize themselves with each other again. Clarke moved to thread her fingers into Lexa’s unruly curls that still felt a bit damp and was careful to not accidentally tug on any knots. They breathed each other in, letting their newfound love be felt with each press of their lips. Lexa eventually swiped her tongue along Clarke’s upper lip, shifting to deepen the kiss. Clarke eagerly parted her lips for Lexa’s tongue, passionately letting their tongues reunite. Lexa panted while Clarke moaned quietly, their hands tightening their hold on each other.

Someone obnoxiously cleared their throat.

They're reluctant to break apart, but they do to take each other in again with their eyes. Clarke licked her lips, twirling a strand of dark hair between her fingers before choosing to ask what has been on her mind.

“Lexa, what had happened? When we were underwater, I held on, but then it felt like some force just yanked you away.”

Lexa turned her head away, a small blush appearing on her cheeks. Clarke lifted a hand to tilt her face back toward her. She didn’t want those green eyes hidden away from her.

“Those suspenders you adore so much, they nearly killed me.”

Clarke paused her twirling.

“What do you mean?”

“Somehow they got caught on the stern or the railing. I was being dragged down with the Titanic. That’s what pulled me from you. I panicked for a moment thinking that was really how I was going to go out before remembering I could unclip them from my pants. I didn’t think I was going to get to the surface in time. It was close. By the time I regained my breath, you were nowhere in sight.” Lexa sighed, feeling a bit guilty. “I yelled for you, Clarke. I tried to find you. I’m sorry I failed you.”

“Lexa, no, don’t think that.” Clarke moved to clasped Lexa’s face between her hands, her eyes staring intensely into Lexa’s. “You didn’t fail me. You fought to stay alive and you did. If you hadn’t --” her voice cracked with emotion. “You didn’t fail, and it wasn’t your fault. I’m glad that you’re so stubborn and that you basically told death to go fuck themselves.”

Lexa gasped, pretending to be scandalized, but her amusement shined through.

“What a dirty mouth for a first class lady,” Lexa teasingly smirked. “I think I'm fond of it.”

“You better be. It’s your bad influence that did it, after all.” Clarke joked, leaning in to peck Lexa on the lips. “So, what happened afterward? I had to punch a guy in the face for trying to use me as his personal lifejacket. I ended up finding a door to lay on after I had to quit searching for you.”

“You socked a guy, and I missed it? Damn.” Lexa shook her head, silently fuming that someone tried to drown Clarke. “I had to tell a few people to piss off, especially after I found a broken piece of a staircase to climb onto.” Her eyes turned distant, remembering the people she denied and how she noticed their corpses drifting a small distance away from her location. “They didn’t survive.”

Clarke frowned, her hands moving to grip onto Lexa’s tightly. She knew the horror they had gone through. It would take both of them time to cope with the trauma and the consequences of the sinking.

“You did what you had to do to survive. There is no shame in that.” Clarke soothingly rubbed Lexa’s knuckles. “You’re here with me because of that survival instinct. I know that doesn’t make it feel any better, but you’re not alone. We’re together and we’re going to deal with this together too.”

Lexa inhaled deeply and let it out slowly before giving a short nod.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“I want you to.” Clarke smiled. “There’s a future waiting for us. I want it. I want it all with you.”

“They’d said that it may take us 3 days to reach New York.” Lexa moved to stroke Clarke’s chin. “You’re really coming with me.” She murmured to herself, not knowing how she had gotten so lucky to have a girl wanting to share a life filled with adventures with her. “We’ll travel and go to that pier we talked about. Drink cheap beer, go on the rollercoasters, ride horses on the beach, right into the surf.”

“Ride like a man!”

“Yes, do it like men.” Lexa chuckled. “Every morning, we’ll wake up wrapped up in each other, never knowing what the day will offer us, but we’ll find out together.”

“Together. It sounds like a dream.”

“It is until it’s not. We’re going to make it our truth and live to the fullest.” Lexa grinned, alight with enthusiasm for their new lives together. She couldn’t wait to show Clarke everything the world had to offer and more. “I’ll take you the stars and back, Clarke. Everything in between, I’ll give you the entirety of all that I am and offer you all that I can give to you. I love you.”

“You’ve already given me the most precious jewel in the world, your heart. That and your presence is all I’ll ever truly need from you, Lexa. “Clarke gave a tearful smile. “I jump, you jump, right? I love you too.”

They embraced once more, excitement igniting as they eagerly awaited to start their new life together. There were so many things to do and many sights to see. They were also looking forward to learning what their relationship would end up teaching them about each other. It had been only a short number of days since they met, and they wanted to learn everything about each other. The good, the bad, and the ugly.

They would go on to get to know each other completely. They would go on to explore all in between New York and California. They would visit the pier, go on rollercoasters till they got sick, and ride on horses as men do along the beach. It was everything they had promised to each other, and they lived joyously. All the old and new promises they had made were never broken.

They held on forever.

And they never let go.

#clexaweek2020 #clexaweek2020 day 6 #day 6 historical/period drama #clexa #clexa au #titanic au #titanic clexa #clarke x lexa #clexa. clexa week #clexa ao3 #clexa fanfic #clexa fic #i did it #my writing #i made myself cry #i'm so happy to have written this #now someone make me a cover for this pls

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lilytalksmovies · 4 years

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Details in A Night to Remember (1958)

A Night to Remember (1958), based on the book by Walter Lord, was praised for its accuracy. Even to this day it’s one of the most accurate films about the events of the RMS Titanic.

I absolutely love this movie. It really stands out compared to the it’s more popular counterpart, Titanic directed by James Cameron, because of its importance on detail. After watching A Night to Remember several times, there’s two scenes in particular that pay real close attention to specifics.

Towards the end of the movie, there’s two passengers that have decided to stay on board instead of taking the lifeboats. Thomas Andrews (played by Michael Goodliffe) gives them some advice for surviving as the ship sinks. He says, “I should wear something white so they can see you.” (“They,” meaning the RMS Carpathia, and the other lifeboats.) Then, at the end of the movie when the Titanic finally submerges, we see Second Officer, Charles Herbert Lightoller (played by Kenneth More) wearing only his white turtleneck; his uniform coat out of sight. Although he may have removed his jacket to avoid extra weight against the water, I like to think this was a purposeful detail, and not merely by accident.

(A Night to Remember directed by Roy Ward Baker (1958))

It’s small aspects like this that really make a movie great, and I highly recommend A Night to Remember by Roy Ward Baker.

A Night to Remember directed Roy Ward Baker (1958)

#movies #movie #blog #new blog #titanic #rms titanic #a night to remember

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rivet-ing-titanic · 4 years

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April 30th, 1912 - American Inquiry Day 11

Pictured: Philip A.S. Franklin (left) and J. Bruce Ismay (right) during the US inquiry into the disaster.

Day 11: A first big thing that is notable about today is the fact that the first woman witness is called to testify, a first class passenger named Mrs. Helen W. Bishop. But the morning starts with a seemingly unrelated individual to the disaster, but it comes that he had insider knowledge regarding a telegram addressed to “Islefrank” or “Franklin” on Monday morning. It is later asked that the testimony be sent to the officers of Western Union Telegraph, to advise them that one of their employees is leaking information. Another seemingly unrelated character is Deputy Morgan of the United States Marshall services who was in charge of the elusive Luis Klein. Colonel Archibald Gracie was among the first class passengers who testified today. His story is one that he later captures in books that are still read to this day. His story is definitely worth reading.

Witnesses:

Edward J. Dunn, Salesman;

Charles H. Morgan, Deputy United States Marshall;

J. Bruce Ismay, managing director of I.M.M and Managing Director of the White Star Line (recalled later in the day);

C.E. Henry Stengel, First Class Passenger, RMS Titanic;

S.C. Neale, Counsel for I.M.M;

Colonel Archibald Gracie, First Class Passenger, RMS Titanic (recalled later in the day);

Mrs. Helen W. Bishop, First Class Passenger, RMS Titanic;

Dickinson H. Bishop, First Class Passenger, RMS Titanic;

Notable Quotes/Lines of Questioning or Summarized Testimony:

Edward Dunn, was a salesman who was speaking with an acquaintance about the Titanic disaster, at which “the question arose that there were rumors that there was a telegram delivered at the Western Union office to be delivered, or a message had been received by wireless addressed to Islefrank; and the wireless people, not knowing who Islefrank was, in turn turned that telegram over to the Western Union people to deliver to Islefrank. It appears that the telegram was delivered at the White Star office between half-past 7 and 8 o'clock that Monday morning.” Dunn is continuously asked to give the name of his informant, but he remains steadfast and will not tell the subcommittee that man’s name.

The topic of Luis Klein comes back today as Deputy Morgan is interviewed. He presents a signed paper in which Klein waives the need for official subpoena, and agrees to come from Cleveland to D.C. in order to testify. Klein made it to D.C. with the Marshall, however he snuck out of his hotel at 7a.m. one morning and has not been seen since.

Ismay takes the stand again before the senators. He starts by explaining all the lines held and controlled under the I.M.M. Then they discuss the relationship with Harland & Wolff, Thomas Andrews and the work they have done for White Star Line.

On their contract with the British Government: “No, sir. We are supposed to use the fastest ships we have in our fleet for the conveyance of the mails, but there is absolutely no penalty attached to our not making any special speed… I think there is a minimum; or we are not allowed to put the mails into ships that will go less than 16 knots, or something like that.” – Ismay

“No, sir. We have never built a ship with Messrs. Harland & Wolff by contract at all. They have carte blanche to build the ship and put everything of the very best into that ship, and after they have spent all the money they can on her they add on their commission to the gross cost of the ship, which we pay them. We have never built a ship by contract.” – Ismay

“She might not have sunk. I think it would have taken a very brave man to have kept his ship going straight on an iceberg. I think he should have endeavored to avoid it.” – Ismay

Ismay provides copies of all messages he sent aboard the Carpathia.

“We have given instructions that no ship belonging to the I.M.M. Co. is to leave any port unless she has sufficient boats on board for the accommodation of all the passengers and the whole of the crew.” – Instructions given by Ismay the day following his reaching New York.

“Because there was room in the boat. She was being lowered away. I felt the ship was going down, and I got into the boat.” – Ismay, on why he boarded a lifeboat.

“Mr. Chairman, I understand that my behavior on board the Titanic, and subsequently on board the Carpathia, has been very severely criticized. I want to court the fullest inquiry, and I place myself unreservedly in the hands of yourself and any of your colleagues, to ask me any questions in regard to my conduct; so please do not hesitate to do so, and I will answer them to the best of my ability…” – Ismay (for full statement: LINK)

“I have no fault to find. Naturally, I was disappointed in not being allowed to go home; but I feel quite satisfied you have some very good reason in your own mind for keeping me here.” – Ismay. Smith has asked a number of men, mainly those of higher status, to say for the record, their opinions and confirm he was acting in a correct manner. I think you can look at this one of two ways: being extremely thorough and meticulous in this investigation, or you could see it as a CYA (cover your ass) attempt because some other people he didn’t consider their feelings or desires in the slightest.

Put into record was a letter from Ismay to Senator Smith, and Smith’s subsequent reply regarding Ismay’s departure for home. (link)

“I am working night and day to achieve this result, and you should continue to help me instead of annoying me and delaying my work by your personal importunities.” Smith in his reply to Ismay

“There was no one else around, not a person I could see except the people working at the boats, and he said, ‘Jump in.’ The railing was rather high - it was an emergency boat and was always swung over toward the water - I jumped onto the railing and rolled into it. The officer then said, ‘That is the funniest sight I have seen tonight,’ and he laughed quite heartily. That rather gave me some encouragement. I thought perhaps it was not so dangerous as I imagined” – Stengel

“There was a lady had a cane, I believe, with an electric light, and she was flashing this light, and they were going to that boat, and we were going toward that boat, and there were two other boats around, so the two or three of us kept together; that is, all the boats besides our own kept together.” Stengel (see this post about the electric cane)

A letter that I.M.M Counsel Neale sent (or directed his associate to send) to the Commissioner of General Immigration that stated the passengers would arrive in Halifax, and provided incorrect number of survivors, was put on the record. This was directed by Neale based upon a message that his office received from Franklin in New York.

Colonel Archibald Gracie – A name many are familiar with, when it comes to the sinking of Titanic. He wrote two books about his experience, one co-authored by another survivor named John B. (Jack) Thayer (Titanic: A Survivor’s Story and The Sinking of the S.S. Titanic); as well as one he wrote himself called The Truth About the Titanic. His answers and testimony are quite long so I have provided a link to his testimony here, as I think he has a fantastic story to tell. You should read it. There are many quotes I wanted to include but for space, I have not.

“That is the boat that I came to when I came up from below. I was taken down with the ship, and hanging on to that railing, but I soon let go. I felt myself whirled around, swam under water, fearful that the hot water that came up from the boilers might boil me up - and the second officer told me that he had the same feeling - swam it seemed to me with unusual strength, and succeeded finally in reaching the surface and in getting a good distance away from the ship.” – Gracie

“There was a splendid Frenchwoman, who was very kind to us, who loaned us one of her blankets to put over our heads - that is, four of us. One poor Englishman, who was the only other passenger besides Mr. Thayer and myself who was saved on this raft - he was bald, and for that reason he needed this protection, which was very grateful to him. It was very grateful to me, too. The people on the Carpathia received us with open arms, and provided us with hot comforts, and acted as ministering angels.” – Gracie

“We thought of nothing at all except the luxury of the ship; how wonderful it was.” – Mrs. Bishop

“The conduct of the crew, as far as I could see, was absolutely beyond criticism. It was perfect. The men in our boat were wonderful. One man [a lookout, though she was not sure which] lost his brother. When the Titanic was going down I remember he just put his hand over his face; and immediately after she sank he did the best he could to keep the women feeling cheerful all the rest of the time. We all thought a great deal of that man.” – Mrs. Bishop

Mr. Bishop did not have much more to say than his wife, except to pass on some hearsay about a watertight door on E deck and that the women and children order had not yet been given when they got in boat no. 7 (the first to leave the starboard side). It is somewhat unclear to me the way in which they selected passengers to testify. Gracie makes sense but I am unsure whether the Bishops added much. However, it is of note, that the Bishops are of Michigan, and that is Senator Smith’s state.

“I only mention that fact, because they [Butt, Millet & Moore] were perfectly imperturbable, showing their confidence in the ship, that no disaster was going to take place. In fact a great deal of my testimony is given for that purpose, to show how unconcerned everybody was about this serious disaster until the very last.” – Gracie

SEE American Inquiry Day 10 post here.

#mypost #this day in history #titanic inquiry #colonel archibald gracie #j bruce ismay #passengers #may 1 #International Mercantile Marine Co #rms titanic #sinking of the titanic #april 30

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myhauntedsalem · 4 years

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The Titanic and the Paranormal

There are many supposedly haunted places in this world, and most of us may think that these spectral forces gravitate towards dilapidated old houses or scary forests in the middle of nowhere. We have this image of what haunted should be, and most often it all comes down to a place or thing with a tragic history and death orbiting it, through whatever means producing these alleged haunted phenomena. The seas also have plenty of this, and there is perhaps no greater tragedy on the ocean than the deadly sinking of the now infamous Titanic. Here thousands of people died a horrible death, and it should go without saying that this doomed vessel has generated its fair share of strange phenomena over the decades.

When the RMS Titanic set out on its maiden voyage it was considered to be a grand wonder of engineering and the pinnacle of passenger liners, unparalleled in opulent luxury and comfort for its time. A British ship operated by White Star Lines and designed by the architect Thomas Andrews, the RMS Titanic was the largest ship on the seas at the time, just about the largest ship ever, and had the most cutting edge technology and facilities ever seen on a passenger liner. The colossal ship was fitted with all manner of bells and whistles, including fancy radio transmitter equipment, and it was actually one of the fist ships ever to start using the new SOS distress signal, which would replace the signal CQD (come quick, danger). The imposing ship featured revolutionary safety features for its time, including an ingenious system of interlocking compartments and remotely operated watertight doors, among others, and when it inexorably set out from Southampton to New York City on its very first voyage the Titanic was widely touted as being wholly unstoppable and “unsinkable.”

When this behemoth of a ship departed on April 10, 1912, under the command of a Captain Edward Smith, it was to much joyous fanfare and publicity. The Titanic departed with over 2,200 passengers, many of them some of the wealthiest people in the world, and others were emigrants from all over Europe eager to go off to start a new life in the faraway, promised land of the United States. It was a truly historic event, demanding attention, and at the time no one would have thought anything of the fact that despite its advanced safety features it was woefully short of lifeboats, with only enough to carry around 1,178 people under ideal conditions. After all, the lifeboats were just a formality, right? Surely nothing could ever sink the mighty Titanic. Or so they thought, and the rest is history.

On April 14, 1912, the Titanic was making its way through the Atlantic at high speed around 375 miles from the coast of Newfoundland in the early hours of morning when it struck an iceberg that promptly robbed the ship of its popular title of “unsinkable.” Many of the watertight compartments that had been hailed as groundbreaking technology immediately were smashed wide open, and the crippled giant began to sink at a steady rate. In the ensuing panic and chaos, the problem of the lifeboat shortage became painfully apparent, and many of these had the added problem that they were difficult and time consuming to launch. Indeed, many of the scant lifeboats went out into the frigid seas only partially loaded, leaving others to their impending doom. Eventually the gargantuan ship broke apart and plunged down below the waves with an estimated approximately 1,500 people still aboard.

When the another ship called the RMS Carpathia came to the ship’s aid, it was able to rescue around 700 of the survivors, with the rest disappearing down into a watery grave to rest at the bottom down in nearly 13,000 feet of water, where the ship remains to this day. Indeed, for decades the exact location of the wreck remained a mystery in and of itself, with it not being discovered until 1985. The sinking of the RMS Titanic is one of the worst, most tragic maritime disasters in history, and at the time it shocked the world. Since that fateful morning, the Titanic has gone on to become one of the most famous ships to ever ride the seas, and has been the subject of countless films, books, and documentaries. It is by far one of the most well-known wrecks in the world, and it is perhaps no surprise that it has drawn its fair share of tales of the paranormal as well.

Weirdness seems to have hovered around the vessel even before it was even launched. According to an April 12, 2012 Associated Press article, in 1898 the American author Morgan Robertson wrote a novella called Futility, which features in its first half a ship called the Titan, and which besides the similarity of the names of the vessels displays a wide variety of spooky, seemingly prophetic details and uncanny parallels between the fictional Titan and the real Titanic. For instance, both were nearly the same size and could go the same maximum speed of over 20 knots, and both of the ships were deemed unsinkable and were subsequently sunk by hitting icebergs, in mid-April no less. In addition, both lacked enough lifeboats to save all of the passengers, and even the novella’s opening sounds as if it could easily be talking about the Titanic, saying:

She was the largest craft afloat and the greatest of the works of men. In her construction and maintenance were involved every science, profession, and trade known to civilization.

When Futility was first released, it was met with a resounding lack of interest, due to the fact that it is actually not seen as being very good, and Robertson was mostly considered a bit of a hack. The book itself mostly devolved into an improbable tale of survival for the alcoholic protagonist, with Titanic historian Paul Heyer saying of Robertson and his work, “He’s not exactly a great literary stylist. Moralistic tone, implausible situations, poor character development. The only saving grace of the novella is intriguing information about the ship and her fate.” Indeed, it was not until after the historic disaster that the book got any sort of fame or recognition at all. Considering all of these eerie details in a book written years before the real Titanic set sail, in the wake of the disaster it did not go unnoticed, and Robertson was widely hailed as having prophesied the sinking of the ship with some sort of precognitive abilities. This has been explained away by skeptics as being pure coincidence, as Robertson was an avid writer on ships and the sea and Heyer has said of this:

He was someone who wrote about maritime affairs. He was an experienced seaman, and he saw ships as getting very large and the possible danger that one of these behemoths would hit an iceberg.

Whether Robertson was really psychic or not is unknown, but what is known is that this is just the beginning of the weirdness surrounding the Titanic. Considering the sheer loss of life and the traumatic circumstances of the disaster, along with the fact that hundreds of these bodies were never recovered and remained lost at sea, it is perhaps no surprise at all that the very wreck of the Titanic is said to be haunted. There have been numerous reports of ships passing the area of the Titanic’s resting place off Newfoundland seeing glowing or flickering orbs of light both above the water and darting about beneath the waves. This phenomenon is reportedly often accompanied by inexplicable radio interference, and even submarines passing the area of the wreck have apparently had such interference, as well as phantom SOS signals that seem to come from nowhere.

One ship that was passing the site of the wreck even had a sighting of a ghostly apparition said to be a victim of the RMS Titanic. In 1977, the liner SS Winterhaven was passing through and on this evening Second Office Leonard Bishop was showing a passenger around the ship who seemed to be absolutely obsessed with every detail of the vessel. As the tour went on, Bishop noticed that besides this intense interest in his ship there was something off about the quiet, soft-spoken man he was guiding around, but he wasn’t sure what at the time. After the tour, he did not remember seeing the man again, but the strange aura of something not quite right made him memorable, and Bishop would not forget the mysterious stranger’s face. It would not be until years later when Bishop by chance saw a picture and claimed to know the man in it, much to the shock of the person who had showed it to him. It turned out that unbeknownst to Bishop the picture was of Captain Edward John Smith, the captain of the Titanic, who would have been long dead during their tour.

The ghost of Titanic captain Edward Smith actually seems to get around, as he has been reportedly seen from time to time on other vessels passing the area of wreck as well, and he is even said to haunt his childhood home in Stoke-on-Trent, in Staffordshire, England. The previous house owners, Neil and Louise Bonner, rented the house out for over a decade, and they say that there had been numerous reports from tenants over the years of paranormal activity at the house. Banging, whispers, and other anomalous noises were common, as well as roving colds spots, inexplicable floods in the kitchen, and most shocking of all a full-bodied spectral apparition of Smith himself seen in the bedroom.

In addition to the hauntings of the wreck site and the home of the Titanic’s captain are the numerous hauntings that seem to revolve around artifacts and relics from the wreck, and museum collections with such items tend to be magnets for inexplicable ghostly activity. One of the more active of these is the “Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition,” at The Luxor Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas, Nevada, which houses a large array of over 300 items from the sunken ship and is ground zero for a whole plethora of unexplained phenomena. Visitors and staff alike supposedly frequently report strong feelings of being watched or followed, as well as disembodied voices or footsteps, or being poked, prodded, or pushed by unseen hands, in addition to sightings of shadowy apparitions lurking in the halls and corridors. The attraction’s artifact expert Joe Zimmer seems to be particularly tormented by these wayward spirits, claiming that he constantly experiences having his hair or clothes yanked on or his name whispered when no one is there, and he says he has even heard phantom music playing.

One of the more well-known of the apparitions of the Luxor exhibit is apparently the ghost of Frederick Fleet, who was the lookout on the RMS Titanic who had spotted the iceberg that sank the ship and had warned the crew. Although Fleet was one of the survivors of the tragedy, he would forever have feelings of guilt afterwards, and this plus the death of his wife in 1964 drove him to commit suicide by hanging himself at his home in England. Fleet’s spirit has been reported as haunting the Promenade Deck of the exhibition, although why this ghost should appear all the way over in Las Vegas remains unclear. There is also the apparition of a young woman in a black old-fashioned dress and with her hair in a bun who is regularly seen on the premises.

A strange incident with a ghost allegedly happened on the very opening day of the exhibition, when a photographer was getting ready for the event. He claims that as he was setting up he was surprised to see a woman in period clothes come walking down the grand staircase, which was odd because as far as he knew, no one else was supposed to be there and he had not seen anyone else arrive. Thinking that perhaps it was an extra dressed up in period clothing for the purpose of the grand opening he asked her if he could take her photo on the staircase, but she did not say a word, merely standing there in an apparent trance before vanishing into thin air.

Some of the strange incidents at the Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition have apparently been caught on film and audio as well. One example is a strange sequence of events concerning a photo of Bruce Ismay, who was the chairman and managing director of the White Star Line. One morning the staff opened the exhibition to find the photo inexplicably lying on the floor of the entryway and carefully propped against the wall, reportedly still pristine and undamaged. Baffled by how the photo could have possible gotten there during the night, surveillance footage was reviewed, which showed the photo appearing to shake on its own before being taken down and put against the wall as if by unseen hands. Paranormal investigators to the exhibit have captured orbs of light and shadowy images as well, and there have been several EVP recordings made of what appear to be the voices of Titanic victims.

Another collection of Titanic pieces that seems to be haunted is the Titanic Aquatic exhibit at the Georgia Aquarium, in the United States, which also has intense paranormal activity similar to what has been experienced at the Luxor exhibit, including ghost sightings, strange noises, period music from nowhere, and phantom hands grabbing, nudging, or pulling clothes or hair. Spookiest of all is a creepy ghostly old lady who is said to dwell within a replica of one of the Titanic’s cabins in the exhibit, and is not shy about suddenly appearing to startle visitors before blinking away again. Paranormal investigator’s and the Syfy Channel’s Ghost Hunters have examined the exhibit and found definite signs of paranormal activity, as well as made recordings of EVP phenomena at the site. As to why these ghosts should latch onto these relics from the Titanic, Dianna Avena, founder of Georgia Paranormal, has said:

It just makes sense that, especially with the Titanic exhibit, there would be residual paranormal energy. When you have a strong emotional imprint, there could be some energy attached.

Perhaps the strangest tale of a haunting related to the Titanic has to do not with any artifact from the doomed ship, but rather a replica of it. Retired architectural draftsman Wyatt Jason Moore, from Portsmouth, Virginia, managed to painstakingly build a 200 lb. model of the RMS Titanic over the course of 9 years and an estimated 17,368 hours of work, which was an ambitious project he became obsessed with after watching the 1958 film A Night to Remember. He began studying numerous old photographs of the Titanic, incorporating every detail he could into his grand vision, and he found himself spending hours and hours a day toiling away on his creation.

The end result was a lifelike replica of the famous ship, accurate right down to each individual stairway and hall. When his masterpiece was finished he decided to take some photos of it and that was when strange things began to happen. As he took his photos, he could hear anomalous noises coming from the massive model sitting in his home, and later mysterious entities began to appear in his shots. He would say of one of the startling images he took:

I couldn’t make it out until I looked at it very carefully and I found it was a bald headed man with a handle bar mustache, and I said to myself, what’s he doing there?

In addition to this creepy ghostly man were a spectral man and woman looking out of another porthole just above the lifeboats. At around the same time as these events, Moore says that doors around the house began to mysteriously slam shut or open even when no one else was there, but he says he is not scared of the entities, he just thinks they are lost souls, saying “Maybe it was someone that was aboard the Titanic that found a new home for himself.” Skeptics have been quick to point out that the photos are nothing more than a reflection and trick of light, but Moore insists that the portholes on his model don’t feature glass. Moore has tried to sell the haunted Titanic model on Craigslist, but found no takers, perhaps because of the exorbitant $263,000 asking price, but he hopes that a museum will take it at some point. They might as well, because it seems any museum with genuine paraphernalia from the actual Titanic is haunted anyway.

The fate of the RMS Titanic is one of the worst seagoing tragedies of all time, and it seems somewhat fitting that it too should have its own odd tales of ghosts and hauntings. It is an aspect of the tragedy that does not get much coverage but is nevertheless still out there, lurking in the shadows. Does the fateful sinking of this once glorious vessel and its rusted, decomposed remains infused with the paranormal just as any old haunted house would be? What is going on with these rumors and scary stories? These are perhaps mysteries that we will never really understand, confined to the dark just as the hulk of the Titanic lies sitting down in the murk beyond the light of day.

#The Titanic and the Paranormal #titanic #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits

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roanoke-gremlin · 4 years

Text

What the Water Gave Me

Santiago’s particular brand of immortality is heavily inspired by the ABC show ‘Forever’ which aired in 2014. It only ever got one season, in spite of it being pretty awesome. So, enjoy!

@the-roanoke-society

No one really ever gave him much more than a passing glance. A mechanic is sort of a given, given the scale of the Society’s operations, Santi thought. And he was perfectly happy to work in the background. Someone had to help the less adept agents with the upkeep of their chosen mode of transportation. He mostly left Agent Arizona to her own devices, same for Agent Sprite. All he really did for them was machining and fabrication of spare helicopter parts and weapons. But the real work was tech like that which was found in the engine of a certain half-angel’s motorcycle, and the real fun was the upkeep of the classic and modern cars, both for the agents on assignment, and those who needed a reliable ride to get them wherever they needed to go to forget the horror and not-so-happy endings they faced on a monthly, weekly, or even daily basis.

So, when he finally came out of his garage to join the agents in the manor for dinner on a spring day, he’s a little shocked to be regarded with such curiosity. He’s always been here, they just never really noticed. Particularly the younger agents that were apparently Elfin and Jackalope’s kids. How time flew... Last time he thought about Tiffany, he had just watched her drive off in a tricked-out powder blue Cadillac. And then a year later watched Agent Nephilim park that same car in the corner of the garage as a sort of memorial to an agent who wasn’t allowed to remember. It was still there, as far as he knew, safe under her dust cover.

“So, how did you get here? And how long ago? What’s your ‘Thing’?” Carter asked across the table, unaware of the unspoken agreement that Santi had with pretty much every other agent present. “I- well- longer than you’ve been around, for sure.” he replied, not really wanting to get into it at the moment. Especially not in front of that cute new recruit. Bracken, wasn’t that his name? “Carter…” Joan rumbled, a tone of warning cast the boy’s way, and a look of concern for his friend. Memories of cold water and darkness sprang to his ancient mind, and he couldn’t imagine what memories Santi must hold.

“Whaaat? I can’t ask questions now? That’s not fair.” Carter pouted, wincing when his sister lightly whacked his shoulder. “Not everyone has to answer your questions.” Parker said coolly. “Sorry.” “No, it’s fine. I just- Yeah. It’s not exactly a topic for dinner conversation. Don’t- Don’t feel bad. You couldn’t be expected to know.” Santi pushed back his plate and sat back in his chair for a split second before taking off for the door. Joan gave Carter a look and followed after Santi. He went back to the garage and up to his room in the loft above, locking the door and sitting on the floor in front of it so no one could come in and disturb him. “Davies, there’s still someone in there. Ed is still in there. We have to get him. Please.” one of the firemen begged, clinging to his arm as the floor started to pitch at a growing angle. Santi shooed him away and struggled to lift the heavy door.

This boat was supposed to be unsinkable. This wasn’t meant to happen. This was wrong. As if the fire burning uncontrollably in the hull for the past two days hadn’t been enough of an omen. There’s a sharp lurch as the steel buckled further, and the water continued to flood the holds. Santi pushed the men away. “Get to the boats if you can, the lot of you. Hurry. There’s not much time. I’ll get him and meet you on deck.” “Yes sir.” “Godspeed.” Santi thought to himself, finally managing to crack the door, only to be met with a rush of steam as the water put out the engines. “Ed?!? Ed, come on, we’re getting you up to the deck.” He shouted above the hissing steam and the screech of warping metal. No response. Upon further scouring of the scene, Ed’s limp form was visible, floating facedown in the ash-blackened water. Santi was about to turn back, when he thought better of it. The ship was lost. He wouldn’t want to be trapped in the hull for eternity. This was no decent grave. He slipped into the icy water and hauled the body up onto his shoulders. At least they could both be recovered and given a decent burial if the distress signals were ever received by anybody. It took some doing, but he managed to get up to the lower deck.

Not nearly far enough.

Nowhere near the boats. He had to leave Ed behind. He could hear men and women calling for help, all third class passengers who had been left to fend for themselves. He had to at least try to help some of them. It’s 1:30 AM on April 15th, 1912.

Joan knocked on the bedroom door. “Davies? Open up. Please.” He rested his forehead against the door. “Not now. I can’t. No-” He said, fighting to control his breathing. “That’s an order.”

Santi wordlessly scooted over so the door could swing inward. “I can still hear them.” he whispered after Joan settled on the floor beside him. Somehow, the man still towered over him even when sitting down. “Why can I still hear them?” “I wish I could tell you. But you’re here and they’re not. Let the dead stay dead.” he said solemnly. All those innocents left for dead because of class difference and poor timing; it still upset him if he thought on it for too long.

“I should have died. Why couldn’t I have stayed dead? Surely one of them deserved what I ended up with…” Santi dragged a hand over his face as he got his breathing under control. Joan nodded in agreement. “I’m sure one of them did. But you survived, and they didn’t. There’s bound to be a reason for that.”

“Oh, I’m sure being the eternal mechanic is a grand destiny.” Santi snarked, wiping at his nose with the back of his hand. “Hey, maybe it is. You don’t know. And you might not ever know for sure. But in the meantime, you do pretty nice work.” “You just say that because of that bike I rigged for you back in the day.” he laughed, forgetting the sadness and the mystery of his situation for a moment. It still gave Joan a pretty puzzle to ponder over.

2:15

Santi struggled to keep his footing as the ship began to go down bow-first. He was lucky enough to be near a railing. He closed his eyes, hearing the panicked screams of those who slid down the length of the deck into the water below. The lights on board slowly flickered out, causing even more of an outcry amidst the rush of water and the thrashing of the unfortunates floating in the freezing water. Alone, in the dark, flares ignored, and with no functional radio to call for help. Santi braced himself as the ship slid beneath the surface. The impact with the surface seemed to be the worst of it. And then he realized how little control he had over his limbs.

2:20

He had never been so cold in his life. The pull of the water took him under briefly with the ship.

He couldn’t help the reflexive gasp that filled his lungs with bitter water. And then he was gone. Or so he thought. He awakened at the surface, sans life-vest. Sans...clothes in general. But as the minutes ticked by, the cold seeped in, muscles seized, and he couldn’t keep afloat for long. Cardiac arrest set in and he sank below the waves again.

3:40

Would there be no end to this? What was happening? It was so still; bodies floated past him in life vests, blank eyes staring up at the stars and into eternity, and Santiago Davies had never wished more for a permanent death. Men, mostly, but a fairly large number of women and children had met their demise in the black water. Santi braced himself for the end again, sobbing in relief when the darkness took over. And then he awoke again.

4:05

When the RMS Carpathia arrived in the area and sent out lifeboats to search for any unlikely survivors, Joan had almost decided against joining the effort. Let the dead tend to their dead, he thought. But the little voice in the back of his mind wouldn’t shut up long enough to let him rest easy. So many lost...

Anger, sadness, but mostly pure shock took over. No survivors, except those in the boats. Did the Creator really think so little of His own creation to let them destroy themselves like this through their own foolish pride? Joan was ready to guide his rescue boat back to the ship when he heard a splash and a pained sob. Sharp dark eyes scanned the water. A survivor? How? The ship sank nearly two hours before, and many died in the first 10 minutes following. “Over there! Hurry!” Joan ordered the men at the oars. Santiago stared up from the water, shuddering violently, and starting to slip under again. “Oh no you don’t…” Joan muttered, reaching to grab him by the shoulder and haul him into the boat, but he was no longer there.

Vanished.

“What the hell?” His head snapped up when he heard another splash as the boy reappears. “Help- Please, God, please…” Before he can go under again, Joan has reached down and drags Santiago over the gunwale, ignoring the nudity, and draping his own greatcoat over his bare shoulders. Santiago curled in on himself, groaning in pain as he shivered. “What are you?” Joan asked, immediately suspicious. “A man. I think. I don’t know- I don’t know. I should be dead. I died. I died. Over and over- fuck.” The memories of being stranded in the watery void brought tears to his eyes and a ragged sob tore loose from his blue lips.

“Breathe. Just breathe. You’re safe now. We’ll sort this.” Joan replied, trying not to ask too many questions. The man has obviously been through a lot. “What’s your name, son?” “Santiago. Davies.” He looked up at his rescuer. “You?” “Joan. Just Joan.”

Santiago stands slowly after a few minutes of simply sitting there and breathing. Joan watched him get up and nodded once. “Better?” He asked, following suit. He could sense Josie waiting just outside the door, and he glanced over. “Jo’s worried. Can we let her in too?” he asked. “Sure.” “Santi…” Josie immediately flew through the door, pulling the boy into her arms. “You okay?”

“I will be, eventually. Maybe. Just need a bit.” “Of course, of course. But Carter is beating himself up, and he feels pretty bad about starting all of this.” Josie said, shaking her head in amusement. Her cousin’s son took everything so seriously when he thought he’d messed up. “I’ll head back to the manor in a minute. Promise.” “Good.” Joan slipped an arm around Josie’s waist and guided her back out and across the lawn to the manor. Santi stared at the now-vacant doorway.He supposed he had a few apologies to make for his abrupt departure. But compared to everything else he’s seen and done since that night when Joan pulled him from the water, Carter’s prodding was small fish. He’d get over it.

#the gremlin #santiago davies #roanoke things #the roanoke society #roanoke fic #origin story #my oc

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