In honor of the 100th anniversary of the tragic sinking of the Titanic, here is a little known story about a nearby ship that could have rescued quite a few more passengers. The following is an excerpt from my first book, Butterfly in Brazil: How Your Life Can Make a World of Difference:
Cyril Evans is not a name you would easily recognize. He wasn’t then nor is he now well known. Evans was a radio operator aboard the Californian, a British steamship, under the command of Captain Stanley Lord. He, along with Captain Lord and the rest of the crew left London, England, on April 5, 1912, bound for Boston. Though the ship could carry as many as 47 passengers and 55 crewmen, on that particular voyage, there were no passengers on board. Nine days into the voyage, they encountered a large and dangerous ice field. They were just south of Newfoundland. Finding themselves surrounded by ice and deciding it to be too dangerous to continue, the Californian reversed its engines and stopped for the night.
Around midnight, Second Officer Herbert Stone began his watch. When he arrived, his apprentice seaman, peering intently through a pair of binoculars, informed him of a steamship in the distance. Third Officer Groves, whose shift Stone was relieving, had been the one to spot the ocean liner. Curious to know what other ship was out in the middle of the ice field, Stone ordered his apprentice to try to establish contact. They tried their Morse lamp. No response. The apprentice left to record the unusual events.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Stone saw an explosion of white light filling the night sky. It seemed to come from the direction of the other ship. Then came another. And another. Five rockets of brilliant white light exploded in the darkness right before his eyes. Shortly after, his apprentice returned to the bridge to join him. The two decided to inform Captain Lord of this peculiar occurrence. Later, Lord would claim that he was only told of one white rocket. Whatever the case, the Californian’s captain did ask if the lights were a company signal. Neither Stone nor his apprentice could be sure. Lord instructed them to only inform him if anything changed and to keep trying to contact the ship with the Morse lamp.
Frantically, Stone and his apprentice tried to flash the beacon light, hoping for some sort of response. None was received. Instead, the cabin lights of the distant steamship seemed to be disappearing, as if the ship were leaving. Around 1:40am, they saw an eighth and final explosion of white light. By 2:00am, the cabin lights were out of sight.
At 2:40am, Stone notified Lord one last time of all that he had seen. That would be the last interruption of Captain Lord’s sleep that night. When he awoke, roughly after four o’clock that morning, he went out on the bridge to determine how they would navigate through the ice. Their first radio contact came a few hours later. Around 6:00am, on April 15th, they heard the shocking news. The Titanic had sunk over night.
There is some disagreement over the precise proximity of the Californian to the Titanic. Some estimate that the distance was 19 miles; others say it was as close as 9 miles. Either way, they were close enough to help. They certainly had the room on board and on their lifeboats to have saved a good portion of the 1523 people who died in the frozen waters that April night.
Captain Stanley Lord was later condemned by British and American investigations of the tragedy for his inaction. Lord, however, did have many defenders. After all, why didn’t Stone or his apprentice instruct Cyril Evans to make radio contact with the Titanic?
As it turns out, Cyril Evans had contacted the Titanic earlier that night. Slightly before 11:00pm on April 14th, Evans, Captain Lord, Third Officer Groves, and an apprentice had spotted the lights of a nearby ship. Evans, against the judgments of his colleagues and superiors, was convinced that the ship was the Titanic. Though Lord disagreed, he ordered Evans to send the Titanic a courtesy message, letting them know that the Californian was stopped and was surrounded by ice. Jack Phillips, the radio operator of the Titanic, was exhausted and busy, and perhaps slightly plagued by the impetuousness of youth—he was only 25. Because the two ships were in such close proximity to each other, Evans’ radio message blasted loudly in Phillips’ headphones. Phillips, trying to relay backlogged personal messages of passengers, shot back, “Shut up! Shut up! I’m working Cape Race [a wireless radio tower in Newfoundland].”
Evans considered his duty done. He went to his cabin and fell asleep. All through the peculiar events of the night, he slept. In fact, he did not get up until Chief Officer Stewart woke him around 6:00am to receive messages from two vessels about the fate of the Titanic.
It was a moment that could have made Cyril Evans a hero. It could have been his “rendezvous with destiny”. It’s true that Captain Lord could have taken more initiative or interest. It’s true that Stone and his apprentice were too paralyzed—either by fear, wonder, or simple tiredness—to find out more about the strange 8 flashing white rockets from the mysterious ship. But it is also true that had Cyril Evans stayed awake a few more hours, he could have prevented one of the greatest tragedies at sea. Had Evans been awake, radio contact would have been made. After all, no matter how passive Captain Lord may or may not have been or uncertain Stone and his apprentice were about what to do, none of them would have hesitated to simply ask Evans to make contact with the unknown ship. Evans, remember, was the one who was convinced that it was the Titanic. Had Evans been awake for just two more hours, he would have heard the signals of distress.
Instead, another ship, the Carpathia, heard the call and heroically sped through the icy waters. They were some 58 miles away. By the time they arrived, it was too late. It was approximately 5:00am on April 15th. Cyril Evans, a mere 19 miles away at the most, was still asleep.
History is often made in the most ordinary moments. Looking for the epic can be quite misleading. For Cyril Evans on the night of April 14th, 1912, making a historic difference simply required staying awake.
What lessons do you see in this story? For me, as I note in the book, I see it as a story about how making a difference is often a matter of small faithfulness, going the extra mile, not epic actions. Share your observations below.
(Amazon PRIME Members: the e-book of Butterfly in Brazil is free HERE!)
Recent Comments