True Love Never Sinks

A Stop In Cherbourg

The fresh breeze of the April air blows the hair out of my face as I walk out towards the poop deck. The port is still in sight but it gets smaller and smaller the more time passes. In a few hours, we would arrive in Cherbourg, France and pick up more passengers. Nothing stands between me and a new life in America after that anymore. I am going to work in my uncle's company. He left the British Isles in 1909 and it seems to be going well. My mother hopes that I will be living the American dream and I won't disappoint her. I'll work hard.

Occupied with my thoughts and daydreaming, I bump into a man who drops a book.
"Oh gosh, I am so so sorry!" I say and pick up the book for him. It feels rough. Beatrice the sixteenth.
He chuckles and lifts his eyebrows. "Ah, don't worry about it!"
There's an accent I can't quite point out. His light hair is not that long, it reaches his baby blue eyes at best.
I smile as I give the book back and seconds later, life returns to normal, we keep on going our own paths.

Where is that accent from? He's definitely neither Irish nor English. Or Scottish for that matter. Many people on this ship come from other countries, some even further away than others. He did look European, though.

Third class passengers don't seem to have a real promenade - this poop deck will do nicely. I can already imagine all these people here having fun! I walk up to the very end of the ship and watch everything disappear from the ships sight.

At around 6.35pm, I can see the French coast. We made it to Cherbourg! Two boats are bringing in more passengers. From what I've heard, many famous people are about to board.
The SS Nomadic looks like a smaller version of Titanic, gradually coming closer and finally letting passengers on board. I bend over the rail to get a better look at the passengers.
One woman with a feathery hat caught my attention. Her rich vibe mixed with the happy smile really arouse my curiosity. I wonder who she is and what she does.

I snap out of my thoughts and look up. One day I will be like that too. Rich and happy.

The day is slowly coming to an end, the sky is painted in beautiful colours as the sun goes down and it's getting cooler outside. I turn away from the rail and see a familiar face on a bench on the other side of the poop deck.

The man I met today. I am really in need of friends anyway. But he is with someone - another man.
"Hi", I quietly say as I get there.
The men look up to me with their eyes scanning my every movement. The European phenotype shines from within them.
"W-we've met today. I accidentally bumped into you!"

The man on the left frowns a little and thinks.
"Oh yes! Feel free to sit with us!"
I smile and move my brown skirt so I can sit comfortably, the sound of the waves are in my ears.

"My name is Viljami Turja", the man reaches out his hand which surprises me. I shake his rough hands which are particularly dry. "And this is my friend Johannes Weber!"
His friend lifts his hand to wave and smiles briefly. Blonde strands of hair are blown across his face. The wind of the sea is refreshing, but also cold.

"My name is Mary Byrne!"

"Nice to meet you again!", Viljami chuckles with the hint of an accent I cannot point out.

"I've seen everyone in groups here, so I supposed I'd go and say hi!" I beam. "So, where do you two come from?"

"Born and raised in Finland and proud of it!", you could feel Viljami's innocent pride from the other side of the ship. "Well, I mean, the Russian Empire.. but we're getting closer to Independence!"

"What are you doing in America, then?", my curiosity overwhelms me. Laughter of children mixed with the sounds of the ocean surround us. The bench we sit on feels firm and hard but they are better than the streets of England.

"I want to start a new life, I want to become a moving picture actor!" the Finnish man smiles.

A moving picture actor? Going to the movies is expensive for people like us but it certainly is an experience. You have the best chances in America.

I lift my eyebrows, "Wow! That's so interesting!"
The man next to him seems to be occupied with drawing someone.
I bend over to see more but it's impossible. "And you?"

He looks up from his work and closes his eyes to think about my question. "I am from the German Empire.", he says as he closes his folder. "And I'm going to America with him!"

His green eyes scan my every movement. I haven't met this man before, he seems cautious and I understand why. When you live in poor conditions, many people can turn out to be your enemies. However, I have genuine intentions.

He wears beige pants and a dark red sweater, the folder in one hand, a pencil in the other. Viljami is dressed in similar attire, however, his sweater is dark brown and he wears a flat cap.

"I'm Irish." I say, assuming they want to hear my story. "My mum and I decided it'd be best for me to go to America, to start a new life"

I pause and think about my next sentence. "I want to live the American Dream and to be able to give my mother the life she deserves."

"We all depend on luck then, I suppose." the German guy says.

Silence overcomes us.