Chapter 13 - Did You Feel That?
At first I thought I had dreamed it.
A faint vibration moved through the cabin.
Not violent.
Not even strong enough to throw anything from a table.
Just strange.
Long.
A rough scraping sensation transmitted through steel.
My water glass rattled.
Then stopped.
I opened my eyes.
Silence.
For several seconds I remained in bed.
The engines felt different.
That was what finally made me sit up.
When you live aboard a ship for several days, you stop consciously noticing the machinery. Its vibration becomes part of the world.
When it changes, the absence feels loud.
I put my feet on the floor.
Voices came from the corridor.
A door opened.
Another.
I dressed quickly and stepped outside.
Several passengers were already there.
A man in shirtsleeves looked toward me.
“Did you feel that?”
“Yes.”
“What was it?”
“No idea.”
A woman farther down asked whether we had struck something.
Someone laughed.
“Probably a propeller issue.”
Another passenger said we might have lost a blade.
Nobody knew.
That uncertainty made everyone talk more.
I went upstairs.
The farther I climbed, the colder the air became.
When I reached an open deck, I found a surprising little crowd.
Several men were leaning over the rail.
Someone pointed.
I looked down.
Pieces of ice lay scattered on part of the deck.
Ice.
Actual ice.
A young man picked up a chunk and held it like a trophy.
“An iceberg!”
People laughed.
For a few moments, it felt almost entertaining.
A story for New York.
Titanic hit some ice.
Imagine that.
I walked toward the rail and stared into the darkness.
I could see almost nothing.
Whatever we had struck had already passed behind us.
There was no dramatic mountain of white towering nearby.
Just black sea.
Stars.
Cold.
Then crew members began encouraging passengers to move inside.
Their tone was polite.
Not frightened.
I obeyed.
On my way down, I met Samuel.
He was moving quickly.
That worried me more than the ice.
“Samuel.”
“Mr. Cole.”
“What happened?”
“Collision.”
“With an iceberg?”
“So it appears.”
“Is there damage?”
“I don’t know.”
He tried to continue.
I caught his arm lightly.
“Should I be concerned?”
He looked at me.
For the first time during the voyage, there was no humor in his face.
“Go to your cabin. Dress warmly.”
“I am dressed.”
“Warmer.”
Something tightened in my stomach.
“Samuel?”
“Please.”
He left.
I returned to my cabin.
The corridor felt different now.
Nothing physical had changed.
The lights still burned.
The carpet remained soft.
The walls still shone.
But doors stood open.
Passengers asked questions.
A steward moved from cabin to cabin.
I put on a heavier sweater beneath my coat.
Then my life belt.
I felt ridiculous.
The cork-filled thing sat awkwardly around my body.
In the mirror, I looked like a man wearing furniture.
I almost took it off.
Then someone knocked hard on a nearby door.
“Life belts on, please! Up to the Boat Deck!”
The voice was calm.
Too calm.
I stepped into the corridor again.
More people were dressed now.
Some women wore evening gowns beneath coats.
One man carried a small suitcase.
A steward told him to leave it.
“But my valuables—”
“Leave it, sir.”
That was when fear entered the hallway.
Not panic.
Fear.
A quiet change in people’s eyes.
We began moving upward.
At the Grand Staircase, lights still blazed.
The clock still ticked.
The carved wood still glowed.
But passengers wearing life belts now crossed the same floor where, only hours earlier, we had gathered for dinner.
I stopped.
The contrast was so strange that my mind refused to accept it.
Eleanor appeared above me.
“Mr. Cole!”
I climbed quickly.
She wore a coat over her night clothes and carried her life belt incorrectly.
I helped adjust it.
“What is happening?” she asked.
“We hit ice.”
“I gathered that.”
“They’re sending everyone up.”
“Are we sinking?”
“No.”
I said it immediately.
Too quickly.
She heard that.
“So you don’t know.”
“No.”
Around us, people continued climbing.
Some joked.
Some complained about the cold.
Some seemed irritated that their sleep had been interrupted.
Then a steward opened an exterior door.
A blast of freezing air entered.
We stepped onto the Boat Deck.
The stars were still magnificent.
May you like
The sea was still calm.
And sailors were uncovering the lifeboats.
