Titanic Short Story

High in the crow’s-nest of the new White Star liner, Titanic lookout Frederick Fleet peered into a dazzling night. It was calm, clear and bitterly cold. There was no moon, but the cloudless sky blazed with stars. The Atlantic was like polished plate glass. People later said they had never seen it so smooth. So far so good. On duty at ten o’clock, a few words about the ice problem with lookout Reginald Lee, who shared the same watch as few more words about the cold spread. Though there was mostly just silence as the two men stared into the darkness. The watch was nearing conclusion, and there was still nothing unusual. Just the night, the stars, the biting cold, and the wind that rushed through the rigging as the Titanic shattered the tranquility of the Black sea at a speed 22.5 knots. It was

They were just in time to see the iceberg scraping along the starboard side, a little higher than the boat deck. As it slid by, they watched chunks of ice breaking off and tumbling into the water. In another moment it faded into the darkness astern. The creaking woodwork, the distant rhythm of the engines and the steady rattle of the glass dome over the ‘A’ deck foyer – all of which the familiar shipboard sounds, vanished as the Titanic came to a halt. Far more than any jolt, silence stirred the passengers as the sense of fatality grew within them. On deck there was little fun to be seen; nor was there any sign of danger. For the most part, the explorers wandered aimlessly about or stood by the rail, staring into the empty night for some clue to the trouble. The Titanic lay dead in the water, three of her four huge funnels blowing off steam with a roar that shattered the quiet, starlit night. Otherwise everything was normal, and towards the stern of the boat, an elderly couple strolled arm in arm, oblivious of the roaring steam and the little knots of passengers roving about. It was so bitterly cold and there was so little to be seen that most of the people came inside