Isador Straus shook his head, “I am almost seventy years old. That is very old, and I cannot take the place of a young person. I cannot take a privilege that is not afforded to those of lesser class passage. That would be wrong.” He suddenly winked, “but we sent our maid to safety. Mrs. Bird shall be safe.”
“It’s an honor having made your acquaintance, Sir and Ma’am,” Howard told them, “God speed.”
The older couple strolled about the deck as if they were out for a late-night walk. They held hands. Howard burned that image into his brain: the sight of an old couple, still in love and determined to be together, even in death. There was something very powerful there.
They heard screaming. Both men ran back to Lightoller, wondering how many times they would run abeam the boat. The situation was curious. Because the ship was listing a great deal, the port side had a three-foot space between the lifeboat and the side of the ship. To board, each had to get over the gap.
Men held women and swung them out across the gap to land in the little boat, but the women, to their credit, were brushing themselves off and were finding seats as quickly as possible.
A year-old-baby was tossed to his mother and then his two-month-old sister was tossed. The mother was from third class, but her husband felt the collision and got them dressed and to the lifeboats as quickly as possible. They had not faced the flooding or the monsters. He waved goodbye to his family.
Husbands waved to their wives, saying aloud they would be along soon, but whispered to one another that at least they would be gentlemen and go down with the ship. Each would make jest and say, “After you,” as they stepped back after tucking women into blankets and saying good-bye.
Wives cried for their husbands, claiming the crewmen were crude and did not know what they were doing; they resented the presence of those men over that of their husbands. Single men escorted single women to the boat.
One of the French women missed her footing and fell into the gap between the boat and the ship. Women aboard the boat screamed; the French woman shrieked and grabbed for the gunwale. As she struggled to get her footing and hang on, she felt a slender tentacle slide about her ankle and tug.
“Help me,” she cried, “I’ve something grabbing me.” She let loose with peels of screams as the terrible tentacle’s ooze burned through her stockings and into her flesh. As it slithered from a broken porthole, it tried to pull her away from the boat, but the other women yanked and dragged at her arms. She could no longer hold on.
At that time, an Armenian man, in a panic about the ship listing so badly, ran and jumped into the boat; it almost caused the French woman to lose hold of the gunwale. His actions, however, embolden a Japanese gentleman who followed, leaping into the boat. He knew he had disgraced his family and country by escaping with women, but he was terrified of the icy water.
His leap caused the French woman to kick out to find a foothold, and the tentacle pulled away from her frantic kicking. The women yanked her arms and pulled her into the boat.
No one saw the tentacle and thought it had been an errant rope that had caused a burn on her ankle. Comforting her, they almost tossed the Armenian man and Japanese man over the side into the sea, but did not, as they were distracted by the lowering of the boat.
Howard and William Stead, watching from above, caught sight of the tentacle for a split second and were horrified that it had almost stolen the women. Not only would she have lost her life, but also the occupants of the boat would have panicked and caused it to turn over.
They watched and saw Jeremiah Burke as he took a small bottle from his trousers’ pocket and poured the holy water upon the deck; it could not hurt. In his other hand, he had a little note he had written:
3/14/1912
From Titanic,
Goodbye alclass="underline"
Burke of Glanmire,
Co, Queensland
He slipped the paper into the bottle, sealed it and, leaning over the railing, tossed it into the water. His home was half a sea away.
He did not survive, but the little bottle made its way back to his homeland over the course of a year and washed ashore in Ireland, not many miles from his own home. A coachman who was walking his dog found the bottle, and it was returned to Jeremiah’s mother who confirmed the bottle was the one she gave him and the handwriting was his.
His mother died shortly after reading his note, and no one ever understood how the message found its way home.
Daniels, John, Jenny and Peter Cavendar, and the Perry brothers ran up to the pair to tell them that the lounges on D deck were full of men smoking cigars and having drinks, couples putting off the climb up to the boat deck, and some who refused to get aboard lifeboats. They had been trying to get everyone to come up and get into a boat.
“But they… some anyway, are beginning to get worried and there is almost an upcoming panic,” Peter said.
Howard shared what they had seen: the mystery ghost ship full of demon-like creatures and the tentacles that had grabbed the French woman and almost pulled her away. They also explained that the injured were loaded onto boats and that Karl, Helen, and Maggie were away, safely
They walked to the other side to watch.
“Are we loading here? Sorry. Berk Pickard, Sirs, Ma’am,” a man walked over and introduced himself.
“Where did you come from?” Daniels asked, as the man was wet and shivering.
“F deck,” he said, his voice shaking as his eyes shifted.
“F? Why it’s flooded and full of… um… things… um….” Pickard sighed, “Oh Sir, I am so glad you understand. Most would think I was mad if I told them the half of what I saw. Yes, it is flooded now. I felt the collision and came up to see.
When I tried to go back and get my belongings, the steward whispered that it was flooding and they were about to lock the gates and to hurry back. I did but… there were things, Sir.”
“Things, yes,” Stead agreed
“I would describe them as something like house cats, but they had terrible claws, no tails, and no fur and were unusually thin. In places, I swear I could see bones with no flesh. And they hissed at me. I ran.”
“That was smart,” John said.
“I am no coward, but those things….”
“You did the right thing,” Howard said.
“I made my way to E and, well, it’s flooded now as well. I am afraid everyone is lost as there were no people in sight on F or E.I heard a most terrible sound: sliding, slippery, and thumping. I admit it almost scared me unto death and as I said, I am no coward. I didn’t look to see what could be making such noise but it sounded large, and in my head I heard the most horrid sounds.”
“We saw and heard them. Be glad you never saw the things,” Jenny said.
“Yes Ma’am. I am. The water nearly trapped me, and I was so afraid of what might be in it, so I climbed a ladder to D and then ran up here. I do not know if I can get a seat.”
“Go try. Make haste.”
Murdock had finished loading the women and could find no more waiting. Several men stepped forward and asked if they might have a seat. Berk Pickard asked as well, “I can row a boat, Sir.”
Murdock motioned them to board. To the officer’s relief, a few more women came forward to join the group on boat nine. Other women declined and walked away, in a daze.
A steward settled Cissy Maioni into a lifeboat as she wept bitterly, begging him to join her. He said he could not go and handed her his White Star badge and kissed her forehead.
He went down with the ship and while she told the story later, saying they met onboard, fell deeply in love, and planned to marry, she never revealed his name. One of the most interesting parts of her story, aside from her love affair, was that she came under the direction of the Countess of Rothes, who took command of the lifeboat and had every woman rowing for her life. The women worked so hard at rowing and did so for so long that Cissy’s long, beautiful hair caught on the sides, broke off, and tore from her scalp so that she was all but unrecognizable.