So It Be [Ch. 4]

R.M.S Titanic | 11:30p

N. Atlantic Ocean | 28°F (-2°C)

Thomas had, before going back to his stateroom, A-26, arrived on the Bridge at 11:30p. The shift had already changed, with Officer Lightoller relieved for the evening. Officer Murdoch was in command. The next shift change would be at 2:00a tomorrow morning; each shift spanning the duration of four (4) hours.

The liner was making good time while keeping to her strict schedule. Due to arrive in New York in two days; April 17th. If this was to remain consistent, the Titanic could arrive a full day sooner than her planned arrival date and time.

This would surely wow the spectators on standby waiting to witness the mighty, majestic vessel arrival to Pier 59. The news would spread around the world like an out-of-control wild fire.

Standing outside on the Starboard bridge wing, they were overlooking the bow and forecastle deck. From where they were, they could see the two lookouts in the crowsnest.

Once every hour, the crowsnest would ring the bell. Once meant all clear, and three times meant danger or sighting.

"How goes she this evening, Mr. Murdoch?" Thomas asked as he looked over at him. They were standing next to each other.

"She goes well, Mr. Andrews," Officer Murdoch replied with a smile. "Nothing for miles, all but clear."

"Surely," Thomas said, "no moon, no light. Have we found the binoculars for the lookouts yet? Had proper action in regards to the ice warnings?" He asked.

"We have done all we can, Mr. Andrews," he explained, "Mr. Lightoller informed me to wake the Captain if anything was to arise. No further ice warnings since earlier this afternoon."

"Ah, so it be," Thomas said in acknowledgement.

Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out his pocket-watch. Flipping it open, he noted the time.

"Apologies, Mr. Lightoller," he said as he looked up while putting his clock back in his pocket. "But I turn in for the evening."

"A pleasure, Mr. Andrews," Officer Murdoch said with a smile.

"Off I shall," Thomas said, "goodnight Mr. Murdoch."

"Good night, Mr. Andrews," he replied.

By the time their verbal exchange concluded, the time was now thirty-eight past eleven. As he saw Mr. Andrews off, once he was gone Officer Murdoch turned around to face forward in the direction of the bow, and crowsnest. He could see, as he glanced up at the crowsnest, lookouts Fredrick Fleet and Reginald Lee.

As he admired the view of the starry night sky, he would rub his hands together to keep them warm. He was wearing gloves, yes, but they were made of thin black leather.

By the time Thomas returned to his stateroom, the time was 11:39 p.m. Unbeknownst to him, the liner was sailing towards an iceberg; a hefty sized one (400 ft long). There was a noticeable shudder as he opened the door and walked into his stateroom. He closed the door behind him.

As he took his black jacket off, hanging it on a rack next to his desk with a mirror on the wall. He turned the lights on and went over to the desk. He paid no attention to the shudder. The cause was not the iceberg contact, but the engines switching into reverse. A slight list to Starboard made Thomas freeze to witness the list.

The listing could only be one thing: the ship performing a turn to starboard. Pulling out his chair from under his desk, he proceeded to take a seat. Rolls of Titanic's blueprints were scattered on his desk and his bed. He picked up a pencil and began writing down the changes he would like to make. The time now: 11:40p.

"Is she hard over?" Officer Murdoch shouted.

"Yes sir, hard over sir," Officer Moody responded.

With the engines running full astern and the rudder hard over, there's no way the ship would strike the berg—head on.

"Come on, come on!" He mumbled repeatedly as the bow approached the iceberg. "Turn, turn."

The iceberg appeared to grow in size as the Titanic plowed towards it. Was fate going to avert? Would Officer Murdoch save the ship?

The trickling sweat running down his forehead and cheeks started to freeze. But he hadn't noticed. Fixated on the iceberg, it appeared as though the ship would steer clear.

Then! The ship's bow made contact with the iceberg, scraping and squeaking as it passed the Forecastle deck and Bridge. It continued onward aft, damaging an unclear amount of the hull.

The entire ship shook and rattled. Helmsman Hichins held the wheel firmly as it shook.

Murdoch ran back to the bridge and gave another order. "Hard to Port!"

Hichins then began turning the wheel back to his right to turn the Titanic away from the iceberg. The hope was to avoid colliding with the propellers.

As the iceberg continued aft, loud thunderous boom noises were heard. Those were the sounds of the iceberg breaking apart. No one could see the hull, but black paint streaks were implanted on the berg.

Murdoch went back onto the Bridge to close the sixteen watertight doors. As he did that, Captain Smith came onto the bridge half dressed.

"What was that, Mr. Murdoch?" Captain Smith asked as he looked around.

"An iceberg, Sir," Murdoch said and sighed. "I put her hard to Starboard, and ran the engines full astern, but she hit.I logged the time at 11:40p.m. I then ported around the iceberg."

Captain Smith's face went from having a tired facial expression to a concerned facial expression. He walked outside and looked over the side of the ship to see if he could see any damage. No luck.

There was nothing. He turned around to face Murdoch. "Find the carpenter and get him to sound the ship."

"Yessir."

Thomas had gotten up from his chair, walking over to the coat rack to grab his jacket. Putting it back on, he slid his arms into the sleeves. The clock, located above his bed, showed it was 11:42p.m.

There was a knock at his door. Going over to it and opening it, Officer Murdoch was standing in the hallway.

"Mr. Andrews," Officer Murdoch stuttered. "The Captain has requested I summon you to the Bridge."

"Has something happened? I was just settling in. May I ask why?" Thomas asked.

Breathing and sweating heavily, he explained the situation. Luckily, there was no one in the hallway to hear what he was about to say. To be expected at this hour of the night.

"An iceberg," Mr. Murdoch told Thomas, "we've struck an iceberg. You must sound the ship according to the Captain's orders."