━━ There Will Be Time
❛ officer harold lowe
may be the first person
to ever tame the wild heart
that belongs to
miss katherine davenport. ❜
[ titanic ]
[ fifth officer harold lowe x oc...
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❛INTERLUDE THREE, the sinking according to harold lowe ❜
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What if I'm too late?
That was the only thought that ran through Harold Lowe's mind as he and a handful of men rowed back towards the wreckage of Titanic. He had no idea just how long it'd been since the great ship succumbed to the sea, disappearing from sight forever, but the screams of those left behind had died out almost completely, leaving him to fear that there was no one left to save.
He'd tried to move his passengers from his boat as quickly as possible, but he'd misjudged how long it took for frightened ladies to climb from one tiny boat to the other in the middle of the North Atlantic, and he'd misjudged how long a person would survive in the frigid waters around them.
Since the ship went under, the sea was cast into complete darkness. It was nearly impossible to see more than a few feet in front of him, and the flashlights they had did little to nothing to help. It wasn't until the bow of the lifeboat nearly hit a stiff body that he called for the men to stop rowing.
Lowe's throat was tight as he looked down at the lifeless figure. They floated facedown on the surface of the water, face hidden from view. There was no doubt in his mind that whoever it was had perished. He ordered his men to continue forward slowly, to check each body they came across for even the slightest sign of life. He knew that the likelihood of survival after spending so long in sub-freezing water was low, but he vowed to take the chance on anyone that he could.
The sight of the wreckage was haunting. The pieces of Titanic that had broken off as she sank, the deck chairs that had been lining her deck only hours before, all floating in the sea. But above all else, Lowe knew that he would never be able to get the sight of the hundreds of bodies floating around him out of his mind. The image would haunt him forever.
Had he and the other officers done enough? They followed the orders that they had been given to the best of their ability, but from the start, half the people on that ship were doomed. The number of lifeboats was far too little to save everyone on board, and they knew that– he knew that.
But the original intention of the lifeboats were not necessarily as permanent evacuation vessels, but rather as ferries that would transfer passengers from a potentially damaged Titanic to a rescue ship nearby. Just three years prior, another White Star Liner, the Republic, collided with the Florida. Although six people were killed in the collision, the majority survived by being transferred to the less damaged Florida and another ship that responded to distress calls. That incident (along with the Olympic's collision with the Hawke that only added to people's delusion of the Olympic-Class liners being unsinkable) led to the proposal of adding more lifeboats to Titanic to be refused. She could have fit enough boats for everyone.
There had been no ship close enough to ferry passengers to. The closest ship, ten or so miles away with her sidelights mockingly bright on the horizon, had disappeared from sight about halfway through the night. The lifeboats had no chance of ferrying passengers to another vessel, had no chance to go back and pick up more passengers.
Titanic and half of her passengers were doomed from the moment she left the dock in Southampton, and as Lowe floated aimlessly through the wreckage of the disaster, he felt as though he was to blame.
In the end, he and his men only managed to find three people alive in the sea of bodies. One man, his skin so pale that he appeared almost frozen solid, had been on the brink of death from the moment they pulled him from the sea. He took his last breath only a few minutes later. Lowe couldn't bring himself to dump his body back into the sea.
He had no idea how long they continued to float in circles, searching for anyone else. He didn't want to miss anyone; he feared that, as soon as he ordered his men to turn around and leave, he'd leave behind one last soul who believed they were about to be saved. He could hear soft cries in the darkness, but with such little light, it was nearly impossible to find them. Soon enough, even they grew quiet, and Lowe knew that he was once again too late.
Finally, as the first hint of light began to appear on the horizon, he knew that no one else could possibly still be alive in the frigid water. He ordered his men to row away, to return to the cluster of lifeboats that he'd left behind. As he sat at the tiller, his eyes never left the two men whom he did manage to save. One lay on the bottom of the boat beside the lifeless body of the third man they tried to save, bundled in layers of blankets yet still violently shivering. The other, a man of Asian descent who they'd come across on a floating piece of debris, had begun to help the others row.
Lowe admired that man's resilience.
At one point, he and his men came across a collapsible in pretty poor shape. It sat low in the water, filled to the brim with men, women, and children alike. He asked if they wanted a tow, for it was difficult for them to row whilst being so low in the water, and they happily obliged. He ordered for the raft to be tied to his own boat. Thankfully, as morning approached, so did a slight breeze; the mast he raised during the night picked up the wind, making it slightly easier for his boat to move with the extra weight on the back.
Soon after, Lowe spotted yet another collapsible. This one was in much worse shape. The occupants inside were up to their knees in water. Immediately, he began to make his way over to them. Most were men, but he noticed a single woman sitting amidst them. She was pale and shaking like a leaf, but she was alive.
Three others on the bottom of the swamped boat were not so lucky.
The survivors were quickly transferred over to his boat. The Asian man who had been rescued from the water immediately offered his blankets to the only woman; she took them gratefully. Once everyone was out of the swamped collapsible, Lowe was able to get a better look at the lifeless bodies lying on the bottom. His heart sank upon noticing the familiar uniform of one of Titanic's officers.
It was Moody.
"They're dead, sir," one of the rescued men said into his ear. He was dressed like a steward. "Have been for some time."
Lowe forced himself to look away from Moody's lifeless body. He knew that he was dead, but he found himself unwilling to truly believe it. "Are you sure they are dead?"
If there was any chance that he could save his shipmate's life, he wanted to take it.
"Absolutely sure," the steward confirmed.
Pursing his lips, Lowe nodded. He ordered his men to row away from the swamped boat, leaving the bodies behind in it. He didn't want to leave Moody's body to float away with the boat, without the chance of a proper burial, but he knew that he wasn't there for bodies– he was there for living survivors, and he had to save as much room as possible for anyone else he may have come across.
As Lowe looked around at the occupants of his boat, his gaze hazy with exhaustion, he told himself that he'd done everything in his power to save everyone that he could, though it still didn't seem like it was enough. Although his boat suddenly seemed crowded with the amount of people that he'd plucked from the sea, it was still only a small fraction of those that had gone down with Titanic. They rowed past the wreckage once more, and the rising sun allowed for him to see just how many bodies he'd left floating behind.
