Titanic: The Novelization (110th Anniversary Edition)

April 14

Eight bells ringing from the crow's nest marked the beginning of Titanic's first Sunday afloat. The bridge was dark, with only the faint light of the compass emitting from the wheelhouse. Fourth Officer Boxhall and Sixth Officer Moody took over from Third Officer Pitman and Fifth Officer Lowe as they discussed the ship's running and so-called "items of interest"; like the weather, everybody's health, a few dull topics and the ship's speed. Moody and Boxhall quietly returned to their cabins, careful not to wake Captain Smith. In the crow's nest, lookouts Alfred Evans and George Hogg began their shift as well. About fifteen minutes later, the Second Class bandsmen were back in their cabin after finishing the final pieces of the day.

Four bells and it was two in the morning, Archie Jewel and George Symons took over from Evans and Hogg in the crow's nest.

"Getting cold, isn't it?" asked Jewel as they bundled up.

"Aye," replied Symons. "Smells like rain. Until our shift is over, we'll be soaked in the morning."

The two men shared a good laugh and some happy gossip for the rest of the early hours.

Six bells marked three in the morning. Most of the passengers were still asleep, but Lady Duff-Gordon was feeling uneasy. Ever since she booked her tickets at White Star's Paris office, and heard the words "This first voyage is going to make history in ocean travel," she had a rather "sinking" feeling at the bottom of her heart, as though the voyage itself was indeed going to make history, but not in a good way. Sir Cosmo, sleeping in the cabin across the hall from her, was at complete ease, and so was her secretary Laura Francatelli, who was sleeping it off in E-36.

Two decks below her, Jack was sleeping fitfully. All he could think about was Rose, the way she dressed, she way she carried herself and the way she looked so beautiful, you would never guess that she had a troubled life. She was a princess trapped in a tower, and Cal was a terrible fire-breathing dragon. He felt like a little boy again, as he strode up on his mighty white steed, dressed from head to toe in strong metal armor. Off he ran, to the very top of that ivory tower, swinging his sword down upon the dragon with a deadly blow. After Cal had undergone through an extremely painful bifurcation, he turned around to kiss Rose, waking his Sleeping Beauty from her slumber...

...and then he woke up.

Seeing the darkness of his bunk, and hearing the ambient hum of the engines, he went back to sleep.

Rose's dreams were nothing short of a repeat of the Steerage party playing over and over again. The music, the wild dancing, and the unity of many classes, countries and people of all shapes, sizes and color was a world that she and many others longed for, an unobtainable utopia that would soon be threated by war.

At four in the morning, the officers changed shifts again, while the stokers and trimmers below them were sitting down to an early breakfast of carrots, beef and onions.

Phillips and Bride were back on the air by 5:00 a.m., but now they were six hours behind on their work. They began logging their wireless messages according to New York Time, rather than Greenwich. With requested information received from shore stations, the two began work on the Atlantic Daily Bulletin, the ship's newspaper, writing short summaries of news from around the world, stock exchange prices and racing results.

6:00 a.m., four bells, Violet Jessop was just about getting ready for her 17 hour shift with cabinmate and fellow stewardess Elizabeth Leather. Meanwhile, in the C-62 bedroom suite, Madeleine Astor was suffering from morning sickness, as most pregnant women often are.

"Unwell, dear?" asked her husband when he joined her by the bed.

"It's fine," she said, trying not to moan. "I'll be fully well when the baby arrives."