Way down on the lower decks, the kennels were under water. No one had remembered the pets.
“Let the wounded aboard.” William Stead, Karl Bahr, and Howard, helped Lewis along and John carried Bernice.
“What happened?” Murdoch asked, “Should they go to the infirmary, yes?”
“It is… well, it will soon flood, Sir,” Karl told Murdoch.
Murdock looked at the bandage on Lewis’ leg; it was soaked in blood. He pulled back in horror as he saw Bernice’s arm was gone. Tight bed sheets wound about her upper arm, pinpricked with dots of blood. Her face was pale, and her head lolled. “She is… I mean… is she… what happened?”
“Below decks… accidents. Please.”
The two wounded passengers went into the boat with the rest. The boat was thirty feet long and nine feet wide and could hold sixty-five people, yet less than thirty were on board.
Mr. Tucker helped several of the ladies, bundling them with rugs to keep them warm; he sat down as well. A Frenchman and his three friends climbed in. Mr. Mereʼchal carried a deck of cards that he had picked up as the men left their card game, and a book about Sherlock Holmes. “If I grow weary I can play card or read about Mr. Holmes adventures, nʼest ce pas?”
They tucked Lewis into place with a blanket and lay Bernice upon the seat, covering her with layers of blankets to warm her. Murdoch did not put either of the injured into life belts.
“Anyone else? Anyone? We are to get into life jackets and life boats and abandon ship,” Murdoch reminded those on the boat deck, but no one else came forwards.
Everyone was afraid of the small boats and said it was much too cold to be out. “Please. We need to fill the boat so we can lower it. Will you go aboard?”
Stead and his friends waved off the offer; they had too much to do. Others climbed aboard.
“You are all brave, Sirs,” Murdoch told Howard, John, and Karl, and Stead.
Murdock motioned two of the ship’s lookouts and an Able Seaman to join the group. An Able Seaman was trained in almost aspects of the upper deck and might be a lookout, help navigate, clean up a deck, or operate machinery. They were also excellent with lifeboats and more expert with them than any other crewmen.
Other men climbed aboard so they would have enough men to row the boat when Murphy asked them.
Slowly they were lowered to the sea. Fifth Officer Lowe called out instructions. The men had little practice in lowering the lifeboats, much less using them, and even in practice they had only rowed up and down the side of the ship a few minutes.
“Oh my, the plug isn’t in,” cried Margaret Hays. Quickly they stuffed whatever fabric they could find into the hole. An actress stripped off her undergarments without a blush and used it to hold back the water until the plug was placed. Ice-cold water sloshed at the bottom of the little boat as it floated away. It was 12:45 AM, an hour and five minutes after the Titanic had hit the iceberg. Crewman Hogg was put in command of the boat.
Joseph Boxhall, Fourth Officer, grabbed Murdoch’s sleeve, “Look, Sir, there’s a ship… there in the mist… see it?”
He had just found out that they were going to sink; the Captain failed to tell him as he stared into nothing and refused to give orders. Boxhall was relieved that Lightoller and Murdoch had taken over.
Murdoch turned to see the ship’s lights and the ship itself as it glowed. Murdoch knew there was no way he could see a ship in the black of the night, and yet, he could.
“We should have them row in that direction,” Boxhall said.
“No,” Howard told Boxhall, “For the love of all that is holy, don’t have the passengers row for that ship. Look at it.”
It was an old sailing vessel with her masts strangely draped in liquideous moss. Humanoid figures dotted the railing, but they changed shape often, melting into humans, and then into things with fish-like faces, and then into things with slender bodies and spindly arms that reached out to the ship. It was too far to see them clearly, and yet, Murdoch could make out that the things were male and female, all nude, as they stood there. Their eyes were very hungry.
“What is it… are they?”
“I don’t know, but I doubt we want to go any closer to see,” Howard said.
“That… I must be going mad.”
“Mr. Murdoch, I think what the Captain saw drove him mad. We need you. Ignore those visions. They cannot always come through,” Howard told him. In lifeboat seven, already upon the water, the men cheered and tried to row that direction, but Murdoch called to them, warning them not to believe anything they saw.
The Pomeranian, Lady, whined as it looked at the visage.
“Don’t row to it. It is but a mirage,” Murphy called to those in the boat. “It is not real, and if it is, we do not want anything to do with it.”
In a few minutes, the mysterious sailing ship was lost to the dark as if it had never been there.
“The Flying Dutchman,” Boxhall said.
“No. It was worse. Be glad it is gone away.” Howard said.
Bruce Ismay, in his nightclothes, looked around. He asked, “What is gone away? Was it a ship to help us?”
“No Sir,” Murdoch said, “Sir, please, let us prepare. Perhaps you might go and dress more… ummm… warmly.”
“They say to put couples onboard. Should we not just put the women and children aboard? We know….” Ismay tried.
“Sir, please….” Murdoch begged, “If you will move away, we can get the boats loaded and away.” He was about to become rude to one of the owners of the ship line.
He moved to the side to speak with Ismay and allowed Lowe to load the next boat.
Helen Monypenny, who screamed she would not get aboard the lifeboat, interrupted them. Sallie and Richard Beckwith, her mother and stepfather, struggled to calm her, but she was terrified to get into such a small boat. The big fish could swallow it whole.
“I am not about to get into the tiny boat, not with creatures and that big fish just waiting to gobble us up. I will not,” she screamed.
“Helen, please, this is embarrassing,” Sallie Beckwith whispered.
“So is your marriage to a man a decade younger than yourself,” Helen hissed back.
Every eye was on Helen because of her outburst. Everyone stared, jaws dropping with alarm.
In a second, they would all panic and jump off the boat since many of the men were already saying the lifeboats looked unsafe. With the cold, it was safer to stay upon the ship, they said.
“A fish?” Ismay asked.
“Let us finish and lower the boat,” called Lowe.
If Murdoch had thought twice about allowing men aboard, he now ground his teeth and made a choice, “Go aboard, Mr. Beckwith… Mr. Behr. Anyone else? Go aboard, please.”
Karl Behr saw that Helen would not go without him. He looked to Howard who nodded his head, “Go with her, Behr. We will all be along soon on the other lifeboats,” Howard said.
Helen gasped, stopping her tantrum of fear. She cocked her head and opened her mouth, but closed it at once. Her shock went deep.
She and Karl knew there would be no more lifeboats later and that most men might be left behind. They knew what fearsome creatures were filling the ship.
Karl gripped Helen’s hand, “Howard, it has been an honor, Sir.”
“Godspeed, Mr. Behr and Miss Monypenny. It was a fine adventure and testament to your fortitude. Keep your spirits,” Howard called.
Murdoch seized the moment and ordered Third Officer Pitman aboard and motioned for the boat to be lowered as no others came forward. He feared that either the stewards were not bringing people to the boat decks or that the passengers were refusing to board. The boat lowered with starts and stops since the pulleys were covered in fresh paint.