CHAPTER ONE
The Icy Winds
The SS Osiris sliced through the frigid waters of the Atlantic, leaving a trail of foamy wake in its
path. Above, the stars shimmered like scattered diamonds against the inky canvas of the night sky.
Down below, however, the atmosphere aboard the ship was charged with a mixture of excitement
and foreboding. It was November 21st, 1914, 2 days after the SS Osiris departed from Port Davis in
Edinburgh to head to New York. The ship, a marvel of maritime engineering, boasted opulent
cabins for its passengers and state-of-the-art facilities for a comfortable voyage. With a capacity to
accommodate 124 passengers and a crew of 80, it was a vessel known for its luxury and efficiency.
As the clock struck 6:00 PM, the ship's dining saloon buzzed with activity. Chef Marcus Laurent,
renowned for his culinary finesse, had meticulously crafted a lavish dinner menu for the evening.
Succulent roasted lamb, accompanied by fragrant rosemary-infused potatoes and a medley of
garden-fresh vegetables, adorned the tables. A symphony of delicate desserts, from indulgent
chocolate mousse to tangy lemon tarts, awaited the diners.
In the galley, Chef Laurent oversaw the final preparations, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Johann, ensure the sauces are simmering just right, we want perfection tonight," he instructed.
Below deck, Able Seaman Nathan Reynolds and his fellow deckhand, Chase McKinley, took in the
sight of the darkening horizon. "A quiet night ahead, Nate," remarked Chase, a note of relaxation
in his voice as they exchanged glances, bracing themselves for a routine evening at sea. The ship's
Chief Electrician, Edmund Hayes, made his rounds, ensuring the operation of the electrical
systems. "Morgan, let's double-check the wiring in the dining saloon. We can't afford any hiccups
during dinner service," he said to his assistant, Morgan Finch, a sense of responsibility guiding his
actions. Amidst the anticipation of the luxurious dinner and the peacefulness of the open sea, the
crew and passengers of the SS Osiris remained oblivious to the looming catastrophe that awaited
them in the darkness beyond the horizon.
Little did they know that this seemingly ordinary evening would soon descend into a night of
terror, a night where the SS Osiris, bound for New York with dreams and aspirations, would
encounter tragedy in the unforgiving depths of the Atlantic Ocean.
2nd Officer Charles Rupert paced the bridge, his eyes fixed on the horizon, his mind grappling with
a sense of unease. "Steady as she goes, QM," Captain Williamson commanded, his voice steady but
tinged with concern. As the evening draped the SS Osiris in a blanket of tranquility, two lookouts
stationed at the crow's nest maintained a vigilant watch over the horizon. Their figures, silhouetted
against the darkening sky, scanned the expanse of the Atlantic, their eyes trained for any signs of
danger.
"Quiet night tonight, isn't it, Tom?" remarked one of the lookouts, gazing out into the vastness of
the ocean. "Ya, Joe, but you never know what lurks beneath these waters," replied the other
lookout, his voice carrying a hint of caution. The stars above seemed to twinkle in agreement,
casting their ethereal glow upon the ship.
Down below on the deck, the passengers, elegantly dressed for the evening, gathered in the dining
saloon, their laughter and conversation weaving a tapestry of anticipation. Eleanor Hawthorne,
engaged in lively discourse with Dr. Benjamin Carter, expressed her fascination with his
archaeological endeavors. "Dr. Carter, the mysteries you uncover—truly captivating! What wonders
do those artifacts hold?" Eleanor's eyes sparkled with intrigue, eager for the enigmatic tales hidden
within the relics. Dr. Carter, a man of scholarly reserve, offered a faint smile. "Miss Hawthorne, the
secrets of the past often reveal themselves in the most unexpected ways. I seek to unravel the
mysteries of an ancient civilization." As the passengers chatted throughout the dinner the ship’s
musical band played Beethoven’s Ode to Joy, adding even more noise. Two third class passengers on
the 3rd class stationed themselves on the boat deck, their eyes scanning the horizon. "Quiet night,
but something feels off, doesn't it?" The one on the right remarked, a sense of unease creeping into
his voice.
His Friend nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "Trust your instincts, Neil,"
he replied, a tinge of alertness in his demeanor.
CHAPTER TWO
End of the Night
As the clock struck 8:00 PM, the vibrant dinner party in the opulent dining saloon aboard the SS
Osiris began to wind down. The final courses of Chef Laurent's exquisite meal were served, with
guests indulging in rich desserts and engaging in the last of their lively conversations. Eleanor
Hawthorne, resplendent in an elegant evening gown, bid farewell to her dinner companions,
exchanging pleasantries and promising to continue their discussions in the days ahead. With a
gracious smile, she made her way towards the corridors leading to the first-class accommodations.
Dr. Benjamin Carter, nodded in acknowledgment to his fellow diners, his enigmatic aura
undiminished. He strolled leisurely towards the first-class cabins, where the polished corridors
boasted lavish décor and intricate detailing, reflecting an air of sophistication and luxury. Down the
hallway, in the second-class area, passengers clad in stylish yet slightly simpler attire made their way
to their accommodations. Their surroundings, while elegant, lacked the extravagant
embellishments of the first-class section. The corridors were adorned with polished wooden panels
and tasteful decorations, exuding an air of refinement. As the dinner drew to a close, the vibrant
atmosphere shifted to a more subdued tone. Conversations tapered off, and guests bid each other
goodnight, heading towards their cabins. In the third-class section of the ship, passengers dressed in
more modest attire made their way down to their cabins, their surroundings noticeably simpler yet
tidy and well-maintained. The corridors were functional, illuminated by soft lighting, with
practical furnishings and a cozy atmosphere.
Each area of the ship, catering to different classes of passengers, reflected a distinct ambiance and
style, from the lavishness of first-class to the understated comfort of the third-class
accommodations. The passengers, dressed according to their social standing, traversed the
corridors, each area a microcosm of its occupants' status and aspirations aboard the grand vessel.
With the dinner concluded, passengers retired to their respective cabins, the ship now enveloped in
a hushed ambiance, the night settling in as the SS Osiris continued its journey across the vast
expanse of the Atlantic Ocean.
CHAPTER THREE
The Bridge
Onboard the bridge was 2nd Officer Charles Rupert, 5th Officer Jameson Clarkson, Quartermaster
Earl Pecker and Captain Alfred Williamson. Rupert was a young lad, he was 27, the second
youngest officer onboard that time. Rupert was raised in Scotland where he got into shipping and
applied for a job at the Knight Ocean Lines as a junior officer and eventually made his way to senior
officer as 2nd officer on board the SS Osiris. Captain Williamson like Officer Rupert got into ships
at a young age and in his later life he joined the Royal Navy, he retired at the age of 56 and joined
the Knight Ocean Lines 2 years later as 1st Officer and 4 years after he joined the company he was
Captain. At 8:30 PM, On the bridge of the SS Osiris, 2nd Officer Charles Rupert leaned over the
navigational charts, occasionally exchanging glances with Captain Alfred Williamson, a seasoned
mariner whose leadership was a blend of expertise and affability.
"Captain, it's bone-chilling tonight. The stars seem brighter though," remarked Charles, peering
out into the vast expanse of darkness.
"Aye, Mr. Rupert. Let's keep her at a steady pace, shall we? Don't want to push her too hard in
these waters," replied Captain Williamson, his experienced gaze assessing the conditions ahead.
Meanwhile, Quartermaster Earl Pecker stood at the helm, his gloved hands maneuvering the ship's
wheel with practiced precision. Beside him, 5th Officer James Clarkson maintained a vigilant
watch, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon, attuned to any signs of potential hazards. "Earl, keep
her on course. We'll want a keen eye out there, James," instructed the 2nd Officer.
"All seems calm, sir." 5th Officer Clarkson inquired, a touch of assurance in his voice.
"Alright, but do keep on lookout. Not too much though, you’ll put your eyes out," replied Charles,
smugly.
At the crow's nest, the two lookouts, Tom Hastings and Joe Mallory, engaged in casual banter as
they kept watch. "Tom, reckon anything unusual tonight?" queried Joe, scanning the horizon. "Not
yet, Joe, but the sea's known for its surprises," responded Tom, their shared experiences at sea
fostering a sense of trust in their vigilance.
Charles decided it was too cold that night at the bridge, he left the bridge to the wheelhouse,
descending from the officers' quarters, Charles made his way through the ship's corridors, the
rhythmic hum of the engines reverberating through the metal walls. He arrived at the B deck
commons room, where he found 6th Officer Percival Harlowe enjoying a cup of espresso.
"Evening, Percy! The weather's nippy tonight, isn't it?" Charles remarked, joining Percival at the
table. "Yes sir! Nothing like a cup of espresso to warm the bones," replied Percival, a cheerful smile
lighting up his face. Percy was the youngest officer, the most junior as well. He joined the company
at the age of 20, he was now 21. “Well, Mr. Harlowe, how’s tonight, I see you’ve gotten out of your
uniform to get all cozied up, your duty is soon though you know.”
“Aye, sir. Tonight’s been too cold for me to handle, think I will put on some gloves and have me
greatcoat on once I get to the bridge.” replied Percy.
“Very well, off I go now then, see you along, keep warm.”
Percy gave a well ensuring nod back.
After their brief exchange, Charles ventured down to inspect the cargo hold, ensuring all was secure
and in order. The dimly lit area echoed with the distant clanks of machinery as the ship's engineers
and firemen diligently tended to their tasks. In the engine room, Chief Engineer James Thompson
and his team of engineers worked diligently, stoking the fires and maintaining the machinery's
efficiency, their faces smudged with soot but their spirits undeterred. "Keep those valves in check,
lads! Smooth sailing is our goal," James directed, his authoritative yet encouraging tone guiding the
engineers' work. The men in the boiler room were working tirelessly, they were not relatively keen
on the work but it was work.
As the clock neared 9:00 PM, the shift change unfolded. 2nd Officer Charles Rupert had just
arrived at the bridge after inspecting the ship’s cargo holds and lounge areas. 1st Officer Jeffery
Oswald replaced Captain Williamson on the bridge. "Mr. Oswald, all quiet on deck. Mr. Harlowe's
replacing Mr. Alexander," Charles mentioned, conversing with the new round of officers. “I will be
in my cabin, will come back at 11:00 though, my patrol shift will be on by then.”
"Understood, Mr. Rupert. The night seems to hold its breath," responded Jeffery, his eyes scanning
the horizon as he took command. The 6th Officer walked into the wheelhouse trying to put on his
greatcoat as he was greeted by the 1st Officer. “Ah, Mister. Harlowe, you’re just on time, you can go
patrol the decks and go see if there’s any reports of ice from the wireless. Be back by 11:00 and keep
on at the wheelhouse.” said the 1st Officer, calmly. “Aye, sir.” replied Moody as he hurried to C
Deck. Meanwhile, Captain Williamson, 2nd Officer Charles Rupert and 5th Officer James
Alexander bid the others goodnight as they left for their quarters. Seamen Daniel Hayes and Lucas
Bennett found themselves leaning against the railing of the boat deck, their breaths visible in the
crisp night air. The distant glow of the ship's lights danced on the water's surface, casting an
otherworldly ambiance. "Daniel, have you ever seen the sea this calm?" Lucas remarked, his gaze
fixed on the star-studded horizon.
"Never, Lucas. It's as if the ocean's holding its breath," replied Daniel, the moonlight casting
shadows across his face. The ship's routines continued as the 1st Officer readied himself for the ice
cold night, the crisp night air a constant companion.
CHAPTER FOUR
A Warning
In the elevated crow's nest, Tom Hastings and Joe Mallory maintained their watch, their voices
carrying through the night. "Tom, the stars seem brighter tonight," observed Joe, his gaze drifting
upward. "Aye, Joe. But that patch of clouds over the east horizon—keep an eye on it," cautioned
Tom, their experienced eyes scanning the ever-changing canvas of the night sky.
"Do you think we'll have clear skies all night?" queried Joe, his attention now divided between the
stars and the horizon. Tom squinted into the distance. "Hard to say, but best keep watch. The sea's
unpredictable," he remarked, the vastness of the ocean a testament to its mysteries. 1st Officer
Jeffery Oswald surveyed the horizon, his voice carried heavy breaths due to the cold atmosphere.
"Earl, maintain our current speed. Let's not rush through these waters." "Understood, sir. Keeping
her steady," Earl replied, his hands adjusting the wheel with practiced ease, his steady demeanor
matching the calmness of the sea.
"We're in no hurry, Earl. Safety's our priority," Jeffery reminded, his eyes scanning the quiet expanse
of the ocean.
Earl nodded in agreement, his focus unwavering. "Absolutely, sir. No sudden moves tonight," he
confirmed, ensuring the ship's course remained steady and deliberate. 6th Officer Harlowe.
meticulously examined the lifeboats, his attention to detail apparent in every inspection.
"Ropes tight, supplies stocked," Percy muttered to himself, checking each knot and provision
meticulously. He ran his hand along the oars, ensuring they were securely stowed. "All in order."
Senior Wireless Operator Arthur James and Junior Wireless Operator Harold Phillips sat in the
wireless room, surrounded by the comforting hum of the Marconi wireless machine. The rhythmic
tapping of Morse code echoed in the small space as they diligently sent and received messages.
Arthur, with years of experience, adjusted the dials with practiced precision. "Harold, steady on
that frequency. We need to ensure our signal's clear."
Harold, eager to learn from his mentor, nodded fervently. "Yes, Arthur. I'm keeping an eye on it."
As they worked, the click-clack of the telegraph keys filled the room. The wireless machine crackled
to life, the dots and dashes of Morse code transforming into meaningful messages, a lifeline
connecting the ship to the world beyond.
"You're picking this up quickly, Harold," Arthur praised, his eyes glancing at the messages scrolling
in front of them.
Harold beamed, delighted by the compliment. "Thanks, Arthur. I will beat you on this." Amid
their duties, they found a moment to catch their breath. Arthur leaned back, adjusting his
spectacles. "You're doing well, lad. Remember, the key's in patience and precision."
Harold nodded, eager to absorb every bit of advice. "I appreciate your guidance, Arthur. It's a
different world here." Arthur adjusted the knobs on the Marconi machine, his brow furrowed in
concentration. "Harold, remember, precision is key. We don't want to confuse a 'T' with a 'D'."
Harold chuckled, fingers dancing on the telegraph keys. "Got it, Arthur. I wouldn't want to send a
message about tea and end up discussing ducks instead." Arthur grinned, shaking his head. "Aye,
imagine the confusion on the other end—discussing a quack over a cuppa."
They shared a laugh before Harold leaned closer, mischief twinkling in his eyes. "Hey, Arthur, want
to hear a joke?"
Arthur arched an eyebrow. "Go on then, lad. But keep it shipshape."
Harold smirked. "Why did the sailor bring a ladder to the bar?"
Arthur, intrigued, played along. "I don't know, why?"
"To get to the high seas!" Harold quipped, unable to contain his own laughter at the sea-themed
punchline. Arthur chuckled, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "That's terrible, lad. Absolutely
terrible. Stick to Morse code; your jokes need an SOS!" Their light-hearted banter continued,
punctuated by occasional laughter as they navigated their tasks, finding moments of camaraderie
and levity amidst their work in the wireless room. Then suddenly there was a knock, 6th Officer
Percival Harlowe entered the wireless room. "Arthur, any updates on the latest weather or any
warnings from other ships?" Arthur glanced up from the machine, noting the seriousness in
Percival's expression. "Yeah, I received a warning about icebergs in our vicinity about 7 minutes ago.
A ship a few miles off reported sightings."
Harold's fingers paused on the keys, his expression turning more alert. "Icebergs? That's not
something to take lightly, especially at night. Don’t wanna be the Titanic." Percival nodded,
concern etched on his face. "How far off are they, Arthur?"
"About 15 miles northeast from our current position," Arthur relayed, swiftly translating the
Morse code message. Percival frowned, considering their options. "We'll need to alert the bridge.
This is a potential hazard."
Harold nodded in agreement, his mind racing. "Should we signal any other ships nearby?"
"Let's not risk anyone else encountering these icebergs," Percival suggested, his voice resolute.
"Arthur, send out a warning to any vessels within range. Harold, prepare a message for the 1st
Officer, I will deliver it to him."
"Messages sent," Arthur confirmed, his voice steady. “And so is the message, Percy.” Harold
followed. Percival nodded, acknowledging their efforts. "Good work. Let's hope everyone heeds the
warning. Enjoy the night guys, see you tomorrow maybe.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Rocks Dead Ahead!
6th Officer Percival Harlowe swiftly bid farewell to the wireless operators, his steps purposeful as
he made his way to the bridge. As he entered, he noticed the time—11:15 PM. He was fifteen
minutes late. "Apologies, Mr. Oswald. We received a warning about icebergs in our vicinity,"
Percival explained, handing the messages to 1st Officer Jeffery Oswald. Jeffery quickly scanned
through the messages, concern etching his features. "Icebergs? Not good. We need to alert the
lookout team immediately." Percival moved swiftly to carry out the orders, relaying the urgent
message to the lookout team stationed above. Percy went into the wheelhouse where the telephones
were located, he grabbed the one to the crow’s nest and ringed it. Above at the crow’s nest, Tom
picked up the phone.
“Yes? What’s the matter?” exclaimed the lookout.
“Bergs, they should be near us, be on lookout and ring us if there’s any sightings.” replied Percy.
“Alright, no worries, night.”
The call had ended as the warning was relayed.
Returning to 1st Officer Oswald, Percival relayed the lookout team's readiness. "The lookout team's
on high alert, sir. Should we consider altering the ship's course or speed?" Jeffery pondered the
situation, his gaze focused on the messages. "Not yet, Harlowe, but we can't afford to take chances.
Safety first. Keep monitoring and update me promptly." Percival acknowledged the instruction, his
voice resolute. "Absolutely, sir. I'll ensure continuous vigilance and relay any further developments
immediately." Jeffery nodded in acknowledgment, his tone a blend of understanding and
responsibility. "Understood, Harlowe. Just ensure we're not caught off guard."
Percival, feeling a mix of urgency and responsibility, acknowledged the gravity of the situation.
"Yes, sir. I'll ensure everything's in order." As the tension slightly eased, the officers engaged in
discussions about navigation, the unpredictability of the sea, and the necessity of maintaining
alertness, their shared concern for the ship's safety evident in their conversation.
15 minutes pass, it is now 11:30 PM as the ship cuts through the Atlantic Ocean. Surrounding
them are icebergs however that shouldn’t be their worry as something else is ahead of them.
“Blimey! Bloody hell, Mallory!” yelled Lookout Tom Hastings.
“Jesus Christ! Is that a berg?” replied the other. “No, it’s a goddamn rock, shite!.”
They hastily rang the warning bell and swiftly made contact with the bridge. 6th Officer Percival
Harlowe was the first to answer the call.
"Yes, what is it that you see?"
"Eleven 0’clock sir! Starboard side! Rocks dead ahead!" Tom relayed, urgency dripping from his
words.
Percival relayed the information to 1st Officer Jeffery Oswald, who immediately ordered a sharp
turn to avoid the collision. But the looming rock was closer than they realized. The 1st Officer
himself then spots the iceberg. On the port side boat deck was 2nd Officer Charles Rupert, he had
been there since 11:00 starting his patrol, he headed to the bridge unaware of the situation.
“Hard to Starboard!” yelled Oswald. “Bloody hell! Turn!” followed the panicked 6th Officer.
Quartermaster Pecker turned the helm as much as he could to the port side of the ship.
“Helm, helm’s hard over!” yelled both the quartermaster and Harlowe.
“Jesus Christ, it's too late” exclaimed the 1st Officer
The 2nd Officer arrived at the bridge, as he was at the port side bridge wing the SS Osiris grazed
against the solid mass. The impact resonated through the ship, jolting everyone aboard.
"Close the watertight doors!" Oswald commanded, his voice laced with urgency, but the collision
had already breached the hull.
Harlowe rushed to close the watertight doors, but the force of the collision had caused significant
damage. Water began to pour in through the breach, flooding the boiler room first.
"Get to the cargo hold! Seal it off!" Jeffery ordered, his voice echoing the urgency of the situation.
But the flooding was relentless, cascading through the damaged sections, threatening to engulf the
lower compartments of the SS Osiris. Down in the boiler rooms the water rapidly gets in, the
firemen in the boiler room get caught in the chaos, then the alarms go off. Red lights shine through
the rooms as the watertight doors slowly shut close, that was their signal to escape.
"What the hell happened?" Charles inquired, scanning the scene with a mix of concern and
urgency.
"We hit a rock! The hull's breached, and water's flooding in," Jeffery explained, his voice reflecting
the seriousness of the situation. At that moment, Captain Alfred Williamson rushed onto the
bridge, his eyes wide with concern. "Report! What's the situation?"
"Sir, we collided with a massive rock. The hull's compromised, and water's rushing in, I’ve closed
the watertight doors," Jeffery briefed the captain succinctly, the urgency evident in his tone.
Captain Williamson surveyed the situation, his expression grave. "Get a full assessment of the
damage. Secure the safety of the passengers and crew and have them calm and relaxed."
Meanwhile, 6th Officer Percival Harlowe was already documenting the events meticulously in the
ship's logbook. Every detail, every moment, was being recorded for posterity. "I've logged the
incident, sir," Percival reported to Captain Williamson, handing over the logbook, its pages
detailing the unfortunate collision. Captain Williamson nodded, his mind focused on the incident.
4th Officer Joseph Brooks and Chief Officer Tristan Novak then arrived on the scene, the 4th
officer had already known what happened as he overheard the conversation from his quarters as he
was changing to his uniform. "Charles, wake up the 5th and 3rd Officer. We need everyone on
deck," ordered Oswald, his voice cutting through the chaos. Charles nodded and hurried off to
rouse the additional officers from their quarters.
CHAPTER SIX
Boat Deck
2nd Officer Charles Rupert swiftly moved through the corridors of the officer’s quarters toward
the cabins of the 3rd and 5th officers. He knocked urgently on each door, addressing the officers by
name. "Jim, it's Charles. We've had a collision. Get dressed and come to the bridge immediately," he
called out to the 3rd officer, Jim Macron.
In response, the door opened, and Jim, roused from sleep by the urgency in Charles's voice, hastily
prepared and confirmed, "I'll be there right away, Charles." Continuing, Charles proceeded to the
cabin of the 5th officer, Jameson Clarkson. He knocked urgently, addressing Jameson with a sense
of urgency. "Jameson, we need you on the bridge. It's an emergency."
Jameson, awakened by the urgency of the situation, quickly readied himself and joined Jim, both
officers now prepared to respond to the unfolding crisis. Together, they made their way swiftly to
the bridge, their minds focused on the situation and ready to lend their expertise to address the
emergency unfolding aboard the SS Osiris. Upon their arrival at the bridge, they were briefed
promptly by the officers already present, swiftly catching up on the gravity of the situation and
preparing to contribute their skills and knowledge to the unfolding events aboard the SS Osiris.
The Officers rounded the Captain, awaiting his orders. “Alright, listen up gentlemen. Earlier at
11:30 we hit a rock on the starboard side of the hull, I had the Chief Engineer and the 4th Officer
check the mailroom and the cargo hold and it was flooded, we estimate there’s about 40 minutes
left before the ship sinks.”
The officers turned their heads to each other, shook by the knowledge of the ship’s fate. “Now, Mr.
Novak you remain with me on the bridge for further planning, Mr. Oswald you’re in charge of
assembling the passengers, Mr. Rupert you will be in charge of preparing the lifeboats on the port
side, Mr. Macron you’ll help 1st Officer Oswald in mustering the passengers then uncovering the
starboard side lifeboats, Mr. Brooks you go inspect the decks and see where the water is at. 5th
Officer Clarkson may assist Mr. Rupert and Mr. Harlowe you may prepare the starboard side
lifeboats and muster the crew.”
“Aye sir!” replied the men, headed to their duties.
As the officers dispersed to their assigned tasks, a sense of urgency pervaded the ship. Passengers,
roused by the commotion and murmurs of the collision, began to emerge from their cabins, seeking
information and direction. In the luxurious first-class cabins, whispers and murmurs filled the air as
the passengers hastily dressed and made their way towards the B Deck commons room. Concerned
voices echoed about the unexpected turn of events. "I heard a loud crash earlier, did you feel it too?"
remarked one gentleman to another, a furrow of worry etched on his brow.
"Yes, it felt like the whole ship shook! They say we hit something," replied the other, his voice
tinged with concern.
Meanwhile, on the decks below, the third-class passengers were gathered on C Deck by stewards,
the atmosphere tinged with uncertainty as they anxiously discussed the ship's sudden tremors and
speculated on the cause. Back on the upper decks, stewards moved efficiently through the corridors,
assisting passengers in donning their lifebelts, their voices calm and reassuring amidst the flurry of
activity.
"Please put on your lifebelts and gather your belongings. We're gathering in the B Deck commons
room for further instructions," a steward advised, guiding a group of passengers.
Simultaneously, in the B Deck commons room, the first and second-class passengers assembled, a
mix of anxiety and curiosity palpable in the air. Conversations buzzed as they awaited further
information from the ship's crew.
"Is everything alright? What's happening?" inquired a concerned lady, her eyes scanning the room
for any sign of clarity.
"I'm not entirely sure, but they've asked us to gather here," responded another passenger, a note of
worry in his voice. In the lower decks, the third-class passengers gathered on C Deck, their
demeanor a mix of concern and anticipation, awaiting guidance from the ship's crew. The ship's
crew, meanwhile, continued their rapid and organized response, diligently preparing the lifeboats,
mustering the crew, and attending to their designated tasks under the officers' instructions, as the
gravity of the situation became increasingly apparent.
1st Officer Jeffery Oswald stood amidst the gathering crowd, Chief Purser Cornelius Willis at his
side, their faces composed yet serious amid the uncertain atmosphere. “Bloody Hell, that’s a lot of
people, Willis,” the purser nodded. “Go to the C Deck Corridor and get the 3rd class onto the boat
deck, I will do the same here.” “Alright, good luck” replied Willis.
Chief Purser Willis headed down to the stairs leading to C deck where he was met by a confused
crowd.
"Listen, everyone," began Chief Purser Willis, his voice projecting with authority. "We've
encountered an unexpected situation. There's been a collision, and as a precaution, we're moving to
the boat deck. Please remain calm and follow instructions." The passengers exchanged worried
glances, a murmur of concern rippling through the room.
"Please, ladies and gentlemen, we ask for your cooperation. Follow the crew's instructions
promptly," followed another purser. Meanwhile, 1st Officer Jeffrey Oswald was on B deck,where the
first and second-class passengers were gathered. He addressed them with the same sense of urgency
and guidance.
"Attention, everyone! We've had an incident. Please proceed immediately to the boat deck. Remain
calm and don’t panic. Crew members will assist you," he announced, his voice carrying through the
deck as the third-class passengers looked to him for direction. Passengers, now informed of the
gravity of the situation, moved with a sense of urgency following the instructions of the crew. 4th
Officer Joseph Brooks hurried back to the bridge, his heart pounding with the weight of the
situation. The corridors were a whirlwind of activity as crew members rushed to their designated
stations, the urgency echoing in their footsteps. Arriving at the bridge, Joseph's expression was
grave as he reported the rising water levels and the extensive damage caused by the collision to
Captain Williamson. The captain listened intently, his brow furrowing with concern as he took in
the gravity of the situation.
"Get to the wireless room, inform the operators to send out an SOS immediately," ordered Captain
Williamson, his voice steady despite the urgency of the command.
Joseph wasted no time, darting through the corridors towards the wireless room. As he entered, the
operators, Senior Operator Arthur James, and Junior Operator Harold Phillips, were already
tapping out the distress signal, their fingers flying over the telegraph in a rhythmic urgency.
"Send out the SOS, We need immediate assistance" Joseph urged, his voice reflecting the urgency of
the situation. “What’s happened?” asked the operators. “We collided with a rock, I’m sure you felt
it, the ship is sinking from the bow, we estimate 35 minutes left.”
Simultaneously, Captain Williamson took charge on deck. He went to the port side approaching
2nd Officer Rupert.
“Mr. Rupert, start loading the bloody boats, women and children first, then the men, we haven’t
got much time!” yelled the disturbed captain. The 2nd Officer gave a nod back. Captain
Williamson went to the starboard side of the ship, there he met the Chief Purser and the 1st Officer
back on the boat deck, they were as well instructed to start loading the boats.
As the passengers congregated on the boat deck, a wave of fear and uncertainty washed over them.
Some clung to each other, seeking solace in shared apprehension, while others paced nervously,
their eyes darting around for reassurance.
"Stay together! Follow the crew's instructions, everything will be alright," shouted a crew member,
trying to maintain order amid the mounting tension. “Ladies and gentlemen please calm down! We
will start loading the lifeboats, as of now, women and children only, later we will start loading in
the men.”
The crew worked on guiding passengers into the lifeboats, their voices a steady stream of calm
amidst the rising panic. Yet, amidst the chaos, a sense of camaraderie emerged as passengers helped
one another, offering words of encouragement and support. The boat deck was a maze of emotions
- fear, confusion, and a determined resolve to survive. Some passengers maintained a stoic silence,
their faces etched with concern, while others broke into tears, their cries blending with the sounds
of the rushing waves.
CHAPTER SEVEN
SOS!
In a dire situation, crew members in the boiler and engine rooms would follow established
emergency protocols. The men down below panicked and tried to scurry their ways out. The sirens
blared, signaling the emergency. The ship’s electricians and engineers quickly sprang into action,
following their rehearsed procedures. Amidst the chaos, their voices echoed through the narrow
corridors of the engine room:
"Shut down the Engines! Close the dampers and seal off the boiler rooms!" shouted the chief
engineer, his voice commanding attention amidst the urgency.
"We need to evacuate immediately! Follow the escape routes, don your life jackets," instructed a
senior fireman, guiding the crew through the designated emergency exits.
"Move quickly, but stay calm! Check for anyone left behind,"
“Get to the boats lads! The cargo hold and the mailroom are gone, we need to get to the boat
decks!” exclaimed Chief Electrician Edmund Hayes. Their escape was fraught with tension. The
chief engineer left the boiler room along with the other firemen. Once they had gone out of the
engine room, the water had already reached the bow of the ship, slowly trying to flood the C deck
corridors.
In the wireless room, Senior Operator Arthur James and Junior Operator Harold Phillips swiftly
tapped out the distress signal, their fingers racing across the telegraph key. The urgent SOS echoed
through the airwaves, carrying the desperate plea for assistance across the vast expanse of the ocean.
“Let me get my coat on Arthur, it’s bloody cold, tonight” said Phillips, calmly.
"Well, the signal's been sent. Let's hope someone picks it up soon," remarked James, his voice tinged
with a mix of anxiety and hope. The morse code telegraph sent read out:
“SOS, SOS, SOS, This is the SS Osiris, We’re having an emergency, SOS, We hit a rock on the
starboard side, we’re sinking by the bow, need immediate assistance by anyone nearby.!”
"Let’s see who responds, hope someone does" replied Arthur, his tone reflecting a mix of concern
and determination.
Minutes felt like hours as they strained to catch any response. Finally, a crackling noise emerged
through the static, a distant ship acknowledging the distress call.
"We've got a response, It's the SS Burma," exclaimed Harold, relief evident in his voice.
"Good. Let's keep broadcasting the signal. Hopefully, there'll be more responders," responded
Arthur, a glimmer of hope emerging amidst the tension.
"SS Osiris, this is SS Burma. We've received your distress call. Can you provide your current
position?" crackled the voice from the responding ship.
"SS Burma, this is SS Osiris. Our current position is 30° 07' N, 45° 47' W. We've hit a rock and are
taking on water. Urgently need assistance," relayed Arthur, his voice steady despite the urgency of
the situation. “Received, I’m afraid the other ships are too far from you, we’ll respond first, we’ll be
there in about an hour and a half.” replied the operator from the SS Burma; Jack Stewson.
“Blimey, an hour and a half, we only have like 30 minutes left, go tell the captain, that’s the best we
can do.” exclaimed a distressed Arthur.
The SS Osiris stayed halted in the Atlantic, its three distinctive funnels rising into the dark starry
night sky. Of the trio, two stood starkly white against the star-studded darkness, while the third,
nestled between them, bore a commanding black hue. Towering high above the ship's deck, these
funnels were the crowning glory of the vessel, emitting plumes of smoke and steam that contrasted
sharply against the celestial canvas. Soon, they would be gone. As the funnels continued their loud
emission of smoke and steam below it at the boat deck were gunfire. People panicked to get onto
the lifeboats, there were only 9 boats onboard, 5 of them were emergency lifeboats which could
carry about 20 passengers each, the other 4 were collapsible boats stored on top of the officer’s
quarters, they could only carry 10 people. At the port side of the boat deck at lifeboat No.4 were a
crowd of panicked people trying to get in, 2nd Officer Rupert raised his gun into the air and fired 4
shots to calm the passengers. “Get back! Don’t panic! Women and children first before the men get
in!”
“You, get onto the lifeboat, the one beside you can help you with the oars.” commanded Rupert to
two sailors.
On the starboard side of the boat deck were 1st Officer Oswald and 6th Officer Harlowe, the ship
had about 20 minutes left. On the ship, out of the 8 officers, 6 still remained, they were: Captain
WIlliamson, Chief Officer Novak, 1st Officer Oswald, 2nd Officer Rupert, 3rd Officer Macron and
6th Officer Harlowe. The 4th and 5th Officer were ordered to take charge of boats during the
evacuation, the 6th Officer was told himself to get in a boat however he refused and insisted on
staying till the boat deck had gone.
The white funnels expelled ethereal wisps that intertwined with the crisp night air, while the black
funnel bellowed forth a denser, darker column, a stark contrast to the serene backdrop of the starlit
sky. Amidst this visual spectacle, a sense of foreboding hung heavy. From the bow of the ship,
where the dark waters lapped hungrily against the hull, there was a 1uick, almost noticeable intake
of water. The bow, once cutting through the waves with prowess, now bore the weight of the
encroaching ocean; it headed for a deep dive into the waves of the Atlantic.
As the funnels continued their rhythmic expulsion, the billowing smoke and steam made the panic
down below the decks silent from afar. The metallic clang of machinery and the hum of the
engines, usually a symphony of the ship's vitality, now mingled with the disconcerting sound of
water finding its way through the ship, now flooding the C deck. The air carried an amalgam of
scents - salt, machinery, and a hint of dampness, intermingling to create an atmosphere laden with
tension. The once-proud funnels, icons of the ship's grandeur, now bore witness to the encroaching
threat, their billows of steam and smoke a poignant reminder of the urgent need for aid in the vast
expanse of the darkened ocean.
On board the SS Burma, its lone wireless operator headed to the bridge, he informed the Officer of
the watch that time; Chief Officer William Hiker of the distress call, the Chief Officer immediately
went to the Officer’s quarters with the Operator to inform the Captain of the situation so they
could go for rescue.
A knock hit Captain Drew Anderson’s cabin.
“What the hell? I’m sleeping, what’s going on, come in!” yelled the Captain from his cabin, half
awake.
“Sir, it's the SS Osiris, they called for assistance and said they hit a rock and are sinking quickly,
shall we go on a rescue effort?” responded the Wireless Operator.
“Jesus, yes, prepare the evacuation, get the fireworks ready once we see them, and have D Deck
cleared and warm them up once they’re here, how far away are they?”
“40 minutes, sir.”
“40 minutes.” replied the Captain.
Back on board the SS Osiris, Junior Operator Phillips hurried through the corridors, his heart
racing with each step towards the bridge. The urgency of the situation was palpable as crew
members rushed to assist passengers and prepare lifeboats.
Upon reaching the bridge, Phillips found Captain Williamson, his demeanor a mix of
determination and concern, as he assisted a woman with securing a lifebelt. The captain's eyes
reflected a deep sense of responsibility amidst the crisis, his actions swift and purposeful as he
ensured the safety of those on board.
"Captain Williamson, sir," Phillips addressed, his voice reflecting an immense amount of distress.
"The SS Burma has responded to our distress call. They're approximately 40 minutes away."
The captain's expression shifted momentarily, a mixture of relief and frustration flickering across
his face. "Forty minutes... it's cutting it too close, thank you Phillips," he muttered, his voice tinged
with a sense of urgency and worry. Despite the glimmer of hope brought by the imminent arrival of
the SS Burma, the pressing reality of the ship's rapid descent into the icy depths of the Atlantic
weighed heavily on Captain Williamson. The race against time, coupled with the responsibility of
ensuring the safety of everyone on board, added to the captain's distress and resolve to manage the
dire situation.
As the urgency escalated, the captain's resolve remained unwavering. He turned his attention back
to coordinating the ongoing evacuation efforts, while Phillips returned to his post at the wireless
room, continuing to relay vital information to other responding vessels in the vicinity.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lifeboats
In the turmoil of the sinking SS Osiris, Dr. Benjamin Carter and Eleanor Hawnthorne found
themselves on the boat deck, among the throngs of passengers and crew members desperately trying
to secure places on the lifeboats.
Dr. Carter, with his medical expertise and innate calmness, was seen aiding and reassuring
passengers, providing what comfort he could amidst the chaos. He moved among the crowd, his
presence a steadying force amid the rising panic. "Stay calm, folks. There'll be an order. Let's get
everyone to safety," he called out.
Eleanor Hawnthorne was also seen helping others, ensuring that children and elderly passengers
were given priority on the lifeboats. "Help the little ones first, make sure they're safe," she urged,
her voice unwavering despite the looming threat.
Amid the urgency and fear, the duo exchanged glances, their eyes conveying a shared understanding
amidst the chaos. Dr. Carter offered a nod of acknowledgment to Eleanor, a silent recognition of
their mutual efforts in assisting the distressed passengers. “Ma’am, get in the boat, it's going to leave
soon, we don’t have much time left.” exclaimed an officer to Eleanor.
“Go, save yourself, I will be back on another boat later.” reassured Dr. Carter.
“You’re her husband?” asked the unfamiliar 6th Officer.
“No, we’re friends, why?” responded the confused doctor.
“Well I was going to let you in if you were her husband, we’re letting some couples go on boats
together, sir.”
“Well sorry, officer, farewell, goodnight” replied back the distressed doctor.
The doctor then disappeared into the crowd, he left for the starboard side hoping there’d be a
chance to get into another boat. Unbeknownst to him that was the last emergency lifeboat Eleanor
just got on. On the starboard side Chief Officer Novak blew his whistle yelling for a crowd of
people to stay away from the area near the officer’s quarters as the crew were now trying to ready
the collapsible boats. The 1st Officer, Chief Officer and the Captain remained on the starboard side
deck, the Captain however left for his cabin. On the port side would be the 2nd Officer, 4th Officer
and the 6th, they would be trying to push off Collapsible A of the officer’s quarters whilst on the
starboard side was collapsible C, collapsible B had been already lowered earlier when they had it
attached to the davits, collapsible D however remained on the stern held by 4 firm ropes.
“Doctor! Carter!” yelled the 3rd Officer.
“Ah, hey Jim, I’m trying to reach a boat, the one’s on the left side are gone” replied the doctor
calmly.
“Aye, here too, you’re going to have to wait for the collapsibles to be dropped down and launched,
just wait here, we’ll have to ready it first.” exclaimed the 3rd Officer as he headed up to the officer’s
quarters to get the boat readied to be lowered. Benjamin figured he could help and followed the 3rd
Officer, they uncovered the boat and had the ropes keeping it from falling down. By now the water
has completely flooded the bow and B deck. 2nd Officer Rupert headed to the officer’s quarters
corridors to reach the stairs to B deck but it was too late, the water had already fully flooded the
corridors, even the stairs had been completely covered of the flood.