As we went down, one of the crew shouted, "We are just over the condenser exhaust: we don't want to stay in that long or we shall be swamped; feel down on the floor and be ready to pull up the pin which lets the ropes free as soon as we are afloat." I had often looked over the side and noticed this stream of water coming out of the side of the Titanic just above the water-line: in fact so large was the volume of water that as we ploughed along and met the waves coming towards us, this stream would cause a splash that sent spray flying. We fell, as well as we could in the crowd of people, on the floor, along the sides, with no idea where the pin could be found, and none of the crew knew where it was, only of its existence somewhere, but we never found it. All the time we got closer to the sea, the exhaust roaring nearer and nearer, until finally we floated with the ropes still holding us from above, the exhaust washing us away and the force of the tide driving us back against the side, the latter not of much account in influencing the direction, however. Thinking over what followed, I imagine we must have touched the water with the condenser stream at our bows, and not in the middle as I thought at one time: at any rate, the resultant of these three forces was that we were carried parallel to the ship, directly under the place where boat 15 would drop from her davits into the sea. Looking up we saw her already, coming down rapidly from B deck. The lifeboat must have filled almost immediately after ours.
We shouted up, "Stop lowering 14!" The crew and passengers in the boat above, hearing us shout and seeing our position immediately below them, shouted the same to the sailors on the boat deck; but a rash of growlers broke through the crowd, more gunshots, more screams, and more people hitting the ocean surface. Apparently distracted by this, they did not hear us screaming for them to stop lowering the boat, set just above us, for she dropped down foot by foot, twenty feet, fifteen, and ten. A stoker and I in the bows reached up and touched her bottom swinging above our heads, trying to push away our boat out from under her. It seemed now as if nothing could prevent her dropping on us, but at this moment another stoker sprang with his knife to the ropes that still held us and I heard him shout, "One! Two!" as he cut them through. The next moment we had swung away from underneath 15, and were clear of her as she dropped into the water in the space we had just before occupied. I do not know how the bow ropes were freed, but imagine that they were cut in the same way, for we were washed clear of the Titanic, at once by the force of the stream and floated away as the oars were got out.
The crew was made up of cooks and stewards, mostly the former, I think; their white jackets showing up in the darkness as they pulled away to oar/ I couldn't help but notice a marked spot on the back of one of the cooks. I tried to ignore it. Was it blood? If it was blood, had he been bitten? Would he start to attack everyone? Would he capsize our safety? My heart racing, I envisioned these scenarios and played it out many times in my head. I imagined what I would do, grabbing the oar and pushing him out to sea or stabbing him with the pocket knife that one of the other passengers kept playing with. I wondered if he had been aggressive or said anything offhand, while climbing in. He did seem a little angry I noticed, or had I imagined he was angry? The more I tried not to think about it, the more I felt responsible if someone was attacked. I then thought that perhaps I should take a preemptive approach and strike him first? Why hadn't anyone else noticed? How can they not notice? Why do I notice it? Had God himself given me divine vision? I needed to do something about this, I needed to speak up. “Has anyone in this vessel been bitten,” I asked. No one spoke out. I repeat myself. “Has anyone person in this vessel been bitten or scratched before coming aboard?” This time several people said no. I asked the cook if he had been bitten, but he denied it. I asked him about the stain on his jacket and, as it turned out, was nothing more than tomato soup. The cook and stewards continued to row.
I do not think they had any practice in rowing, for all night long their oars crossed and clashed; if our safety had depended on speed or accuracy, or in keeping time, it would have gone hard with us. Shouting began from one end of the boat to the other as to what we should do, where we should go, and no one seemed to have any knowledge on how to act. At last we asked, "Who is in charge of this boat?" but there was no reply. We then agreed by general consent that the stoker who stood in the stern with the tiller should act as captain, and from that time he directed the course, shouting to other boats and keeping in touch with them. Not that there was anywhere to go or anything we could do but our plan of action was simple; keep all the boats together as far as possible and wait until we were picked up by other liners. We watched all the time, peering through the complete darkness, hoping to see the light of a steamer, thinking there might be a chance of other steamers coming near enough to see the lights which some of our boats carried. I am sure there was no feeling in the minds of any one that we should not be picked up next day; we knew that we'd be missed by check in point and then, wireless messages would go out from ship to ship, and as one of the stokers said, "the sea will be covered with ships tomorrow afternoon; they will race up from all over the sea to find us." Some even imagined that faster torpedo boats might be enroot. It turns they were half right.
Almost immediately after leaving the Titanic, we saw what we all said was a ship's lights down on the horizon on the Titanic's port side; two lights, one above the other, and plainly not one of our boats; we even rowed in that direction for some time, but the lights drew away and disappeared below the horizon. I thought we were mistaken. And as we waited, as we watched, the Titanic now sat at an odd angle. Try as we did not to watch, but as we only had two options; we could stare at the darkness of night or be held captive to the human drama unfolding before us. Hundreds of people were running around. A man slid down toward the waterline, at his feet a growler was crawling up deck. My back tensed as I watched, I found myself willing the man the strength to make it upright. Every inch he made upward would respite my tension slightly and returned when he backslid. He continued to climb and as he made his progress, the ship appeared to climb too, with the predator below making gains towards the man. It was like watching a cat and a mouse. I looked closer and saw the hundreds of creatures in the water where the ship met the ocean. What they had in stamina they lacked in balance. All, except maybe 10 or so, of the growlers were in the sea. The fear of being ripped to shreds lessened the fear of drowning. I lost sight of the man I had been watching, and I can only assume he fell because his pursuant was gone too. The incline was too steep now for anyone to climb. A deafening peal of metallic noise rung from the steamer; it was like nails to a blackboard.
When the noise was over, the Titanic was still upright like a column; I will put the record straight on this account. You likely heard two versions of this. Many have said the boat first split in two then came to rest at this state. I am told that my words are unsettling to be heard. A great commission and trial is to begin. The witnesses at hand have been interviewed. All accounts are the same, each one of us survivors knows what really happened. We had been instructed that our accounts, will be altered, edited and reworked. I fear my witness will be twisted like a gnostic gospel, will stray too far from the awful truth. I fear the true count will be lost to history, I do not want my words to be discarded. I pray my testimony will be the standard by which other accounts are measured. Some may differ slightly, but, in all honesty I know this will not be the case. I'm told this account one day will be released, it will be released 100 years after the sinking of Titanic. I am told that the world is not ready for the truth; our minds too fragile to hold this knowledge. We've been told, under penalty of law, we are never, in our lifetime's to reveal any such details about the sickness that spread throughout Titanic. We are not to tell family, loved ones nor anyone else who could be harmed by such knowledge. I'm wise enough to understand that this is not a warning, it is a threat, but a threat that I take seriously nonetheless. So in this account I have told you the truth. There was such a horrible, dreaded, sickness that spread quickly. A rabies lik
e illness that caused men women and children to burn up with fever and die only to reanimate their corpses. Their humanity gone, their souls gone, their very being gone, leaving a flesh and blood thirsty animal in its place.
Furthermore, under our lifeboat there came a rush of water. It was an artificially generated wave. The wave came by way of the torpedo that was launched from a Russian submarine. The submarine was stationed off the coast of Newfoundland. The submarine was called the Krab. It was the torpedo that hit the Titanic, as the erect vessel bobbed up and down like a cork. The torpedo finished what the iceberg was supposed to do. It also sent to the bottom all physical proof of the apocalyptic event. What better way to pick up survivors, then to skim us, the living, off of the top. The dangerous infectious dead would be nonthreatening in the water. I remind you again... there are two versions among us survivors of the Titanic sinking.
I ask the reader, why do you suppose this is? As proof of this account you are holding, I offer you this. Why would there be two separate accounts. Whenever there are two versions of the story, one is true, the other is not. The evidence that I set forth is that no one disputes us, the survivors. No one disputes that we were there. No one disputes that the Titanic went down. No one disputes that it was a clear night With this monster of a ship before our very eyes, the only focus was Titanic. Pray these words get your heart and open your mind. Many survivors having nothing else to preoccupy our time as we watched the Titanic, stay in whole one piece. Some of us have given a contrary statement saying the Titanic split into pieces before sinking. This was on purpose, we wanted there to be speculation of a cover-up. The one thing that everyone who is saved could agree upon was whether a ship on that clear night was whole, or split into two pieces. Mr. J.P. Morgan a huge financier of Titanic canceled his passage just hours before we left. The Titanic was docked with the Olympic; these two ships identical. The Olympic was involved in a collision causing much damage. The White Star line was practically laughed outof-court when they attempted to collect damages. Mr. J.P. Morgan needed an efficient way to recover his losses. His plan was successful. He dressed up the damaged Olympic as Titanic. The ship that floats today as the Olympic is really the Titanic ship that sunk that we all boarded, was in fact the Olympic dressed up as the Titanic. It was planned all along that this false Titanic ship would sink. The lights we saw that night belonged to a rescue ship. The course had been set to hit the iceberg on purpose. The Russian submarine had been sitting, waiting for several days, before we arrived. It was an insurance fraud; the only way, to recover losses. The men involved in this planning, were illuminati. They are the powers that be. They always have been, and they always will be. It is reported, a similar illness as I have mentioned was found in the remote region of the Dark Continent, Africa. This disease quickly spread, killing out several villages before running its course. Dr. Albert Schweitzer wrote of it in detail.
Mr. J.P. Morgan, is this very next year supposed to set up a new world order so the growth of industry can blossom. It is a federated reserve to transfer wealth from the poorest and middle classes of the United States straight to the pockets of illuminati bankers. This is not the first time that cover-up has been orchestrated. Nor will it be the last. Since the beginning of man, since Cain slew Abel, there have been cover-ups. The President of our United States gave the order to sink the Titanic. The US could not afford sickness to come aboard. I do believe the President acted in the best interest of the US. He was merely a pawn in a larger game. The sickness was brought aboard in the form of Mumia by Molly Brown. Molly had no idea what biological mine she had brought aboard. I speculated that it was brought aboard on purpose. I don't doubt that. I do believe, however, Mrs. Brown was the bullet and not the finger that pulled the trigger. It is very telling that Mr. Ismay made it off of Titanic, he himself being a business partner with Mr. J.P. Morgan. This is a cold fact. It is said that money is the root of all evil. That is incorrect! It is the lust of money that is the root of all evil.
Anyone within earshot of those poor souls who were in the water could bear witness to that statement. Out of respect I will not go further into the great detail of the screaming of those who suffered in the water. I'm sure by now you have a visual of that. I will mention those screams were loud at first then slowly grew quieter. We, the survivors and the boats, either too packed full, or to inexperienced to venture out to the voices. There were fears of being swamped and overrun .In retrospect anyone could speculate, the last of the voices stopped about 45 minutes after Titanic sank. The last of the growls were three hours, I do not think those growlers expired…I think they merely froze solid.
CHAPTER V
THE RESCUE
All accounts agree that the Titanic sunk about 2:20 A.M, a watch in our boat gave the time as 2:30 A.M. shortly afterwards. We were then in touch with three other boats. Much of what was said amongst us survivors, immediately had to do with the attempt to locate loved ones. We had been through an ordeal. Then out of the distance arrived Carpathia.
We rowed up to her at about 4:30 A.M, sheltering on the port side from the swell, held on by two ropes at the stern and bow. Women went up the side first, climbing rope ladders with a noose round their shoulders to help their ascent; men passengers scrambled next and the crew last of all. The baby went up in a bag with the opening tied up, it had been quite well all the time, and never suffered any ill effects from its cold journey in the night. We set foot on deck with very thankful hearts, grateful beyond the possibility of adequate expression to feel a solid ship beneath us once more.
When all is said and done and 100 years have passed from the time that I, Mr. Lawrence Beesley, have put down my pen. Whether my account from that night is presented as a fictional account or it is presented as a factual account, I will never know. I will have long since perished. You will have to decide for yourself. Is your mind strong enough to question history? Has the truth always been presented to you? I am hopeful that by the time you read this, man has evolved to a higher degree of character; that the world is not controlled by the love of money; that failsafe systems are put into place to keep uncertainty disaster from occurring. I am hopeful that absolute power in the highest places does not corrupt our leaders.
And of most, I hope you live in a world of utopian like bliss. The skeptic in me thinks this man exists, the issues we face today, will only be amplified 1000 fold 100 years from today. I end this chapter with mental impressions, that our legacy from the wreck, our debt to those who were lost with her, is to see that a Titanic of the Dead never happen again. Meanwhile we can say of them, as Shelley, himself the victim of a similar q, says of his friend Keats in "Adonais"; "Peace, peace! He is not dead, he doth not sleep--He hath awakened from the dream of life--He lives, he wakes--'Tis Death is dead, not he; Mourn not for Adonais."
THE END LAWRENCE BEESLEY, Titanic Survivor1912-05-23
“For my wife, Tammy, the most important woman in my life, this book is dedicated to you.”
My inspiration for this book is to spread awareness of Obsessional Compulsive Disorder. One in 50 people live with this horrible mental affliction. It is not easy being tormented every waking moment. To those who have it, Accept Uncertainty. To those who don’t, OCD is not an adjective.
To William, Jesse, Katie and Tara, you are all blessings to have. Thank you for being you.
In closing I also want to acknowledge the people I admire and respect the most.
Jesus Christ for saving my soul, washing away my sin and accepting me for me.
Howard Stern for saving my sanity, you are the world’s greatest humorist! Thanks for helping people laugh at the absurdity of life and just enjoy it.
Sheriff Joseph M. "Joe" Arpaio; you are a real-life John Wayne! They broke the mold after making you.
Michael S, who lives and breathes Integrity.
Jay Leno is the worst human being on earth.
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Stephen A. Dymarcik II Page 5