reconstruction of the Titanic's grand staircase - click to enlarge -

Second Officer Charles Lightoller braced himself as a stiff gust of wind whipped against his uniform, It was sailing day - April 10, 1912 - and the Royal Mail Steamer Titanic bustled with activity as crewmembers, officers, and suppliers swarmed around her decks, making final preparations for the ship's maiden voyage from Southampton to New York. Carpets had been laid and final decorating had been done right up to the last minute, and the smell of fresh paint permeated the ship.

All the same, Lightoller viewed the scene with some frustration. Before the 46,328-ton vessel could leave England, she had to go through yet another inspection under the eagle eye of Captain Maurice Clarke, the assistant emigration officer under the Board of Trade. It was Clarke's duty to make sure the ship was fit to take emigrants from England, and he had a reputation for being extremely meticulous.

Captain Benjamin Steel, Southampton's marine superintendent for the White Star Line, would participate in the inspection, but he was normally quite genial and would likely inspect in a very general way. Clarke, however, would ask for the lifeboats to be brought out and he’d insist that the lifeboats be uncovered and the contents removed. He was even known to have a lifeboat lowered more than once if he wasn't satisfied the first time.

The Titanic had sixteen watertight compartments with doors that could be closed with the flip of an electric switch. If the hull were damaged, those doors would be lowered shut to prevent water from entering other parts of the vessel. But Lightoller knew that no ship was perfect and things could go wrong, even on this marvel of Edwardian engineering.

As Clarke and Steel observed the mustering of the sailors and stewards at 8:00 A.M., Lightoller tightened his square jaw and hoped for the best. Once these men had been mustered, they would be allowed to go back on shore before sailing, where the pubs were crowded with crewmen having one last drink before shipping out, as alcohol was strictly forbidden to them on the liners.

Under the unswerving gaze of Clarke and Steel, a group of sailors was taken over to the starboard side of the windy Boat Deck. From there, two lifeboats were lowered into the water from their davits, the small cranes used to send the boats down to the sea. Fifth officer Harold Lowe And Sixth Officer James Moody manned one boat each, with eight sailors rowing under their command, and the two officers were taken around the harbor for twenty minutes before the boats were hoisted back on board. Normally, inspectors would have had the men set the sails as well, but as Steel later explained, the weather was so gusty that they decided to check only the oars and the sailors' rowing skills.

Also on board for the inspection was Thomas Andrews, the managing director and head of the design department of Harland and Wolff - the Belfast shipbuilding firm that had constructed the Titanic. Today, he'd come on board at 6:00 A.m., but during the construction of the ship, he'd been known to arrive in the Belfast shipyards as early as 4:00 A.M. in a bowler hat daubed with paint. Once Clarke and Steel had finished their inspection, they would leave for shore, but Andrews would stay on board to accompany the Titanic on her maiden voyage and check for areas that needed improvement.

Not long after the end of the boat drill, a wavy-haired man with a full handlebar* moustache appeared on the ship. It was J. Bruce Ismay, the managing director of the White Star Line, who'd motored down from London the day before in his Daimler landaulet touring car with his wife Florence and their three youngest children. Ismay's family would go on to holiday in Devonshire and Wales, but Ismay would accompany the Titanic as she traveled to New York, staying in one of the two parlour suites amidships and enjoying his own private promenade deck.

As head of the White Star Line, Ismay had the authority to choose the Titanic's commander. He'd given this honor to Edward John Smith, who, at sixty-two, was the White Star's commodore, or senior captain. Smith had been with the company for over thirty years and had spent the last twenty-five as captain of some of its finest ships. Lightoller would later describe Smith as "full-whiskered and broad" with "a pleasant, quiet voice and invariable smile." Smith was extremely popular with his crew and with the wealthy financiers and upper-class passengers who sailed on his ships. His ease in the company of the rich and famous had gained him a reputation as the "millionaires' captain." Commanding the Titanic was the crowning achievement of his long career, and upon his return to England, Captain Smith intended to retire.

By ten o'clock, passengers were beginning to come on board. Excitement over the impending voyage ran high, but there was also a certain amount of confusion. Most were unaccustomed to the enormous size of the nearly nine hundred-foot-long Titanic, and finding their way around was often difficult.

The first-class public rooms were open for inspection by second-class passengers, and many took the opportunity to revel in the glamor of spaces that would normally be off limits: the first-class Lounge, decorated to look like the palace at Versailles; the forward Grand Staircase between the first and second funnels, which swept down four levels to a white paneled Reception Room dotted with wicker chairs; and first-class Dining Saloon with its elegant leaded-glass windows. Nearer the stern, but still on the Lipper decks, were the Cafe Parisien and the first-class Smoking Room. On the lower levels, above the boiler rooms in the forward portion of the ship, were Turkish baths and a swimming pool — the second ever to be built into an ocean liner.

Steerage passengers were briefly detained before entering the ship while a Board of Trade health inspector checked their eyes for trachoma and their heads for lice. Either condition would prevent them from being allowed to embark. First- and second-class passengers boarded more freely, then made their way through the maze of corridors and decks to their staterooms. On the dock below, tons of baggage were unloaded from the boat train that had arrived from London and were either brought on board to be placed in the appropriate rooms, or, in the case of bags and trunks that would not be opened during the voyage, transferred to the cargo holds.

At noon, with the help of a swarm of six tugboats, the Titanic began to ease away from her berth toward the River Test and the English Channel. From there, it would steam to Cherbourg, on the north coast of France, then to Queenstown, on the south coast of Ireland, before heading out into the open Atlantic. A huge crowd, mostly local citizens, watched from the dock, and some followed the queenly vessel as it moved away from the quay.

The ship turned to port as it entered the narrow channel of the River Test, and as it moved forward, it drew alongside the liner New York, which was moored nearby beside the Oceanic. Then, as the Titanic’s passengers watched, the New York seemed to move out toward the Titanic, the lines connecting it to the Oceanic stretching taut under the strain. As the bows of Titanic and the New York cames toward each other, the massive lines holding the moored ship suddenly snapped, sounding like gunshots as they arced into the air. The crowd on the dock retreated in alarm as the New York's stern began to swing out into the river, heading straight for the side of the Titanic.

Men on board the smaller vessel quickly began draping collision mats over the side, while one of the tugs that had cast off from the Titanic's bow now came around her stern and tried to secure a line to the New York. On board the Titanic, the harbor pilot, George Bowyer, ordered the port propeller forward - an astute move, as it created a sudden surge and a wash that helped keep the smaller liner away.

As the New York swung out, her bow moved forward, so that her stern actually moved along the side of the Titanic and finally passed across the new liner's bow. The two ships missed colliding by only a few feet.

Until the other vessel could be secured, the Titanic was stopped in the river. There was considerable excitement among the crowds on the New York, the Oceanic, and the wharf, but those on the Titanic remained calm, the ship's huge size creating a feeling of invincibility. Half an hour later, when the Titanic was finally under way again, the New York incident was the topic of many discussions, and some passengers expressed misgivings about the maneuverability of this enormous new liner.

As the Titanic steamed across the English Channel toward Cherbourg, the waters were remarkably still, a precursor of the calm seas that would surround the ship during the remaining four days of its existence.

The Titanic was too large to dock at Cherbourg, so passengers at this port were sent out in the White Star tender Nomadic and taken aboard in the harbor. Steerage passengers and their luggage were unloaded from a second tender, the Traffic. It took an hour and a half to load the passengers and their trunks, including the valuables of many prominent Americans who were going home first class after traveling on the Continent.

Among these was one of the wealthiest men in America, John Jacob Astor, the fur trader's greatgrandson who had enhanced his inherited riches through clever real-estate deals. After a scandalous divorce and remarriage to Madeleine Force, a woman younger than his son, he had "escaped" with her to Europe. Now he was returning to New York with his new wife, who was five months pregnant. Many third-class passengers — most of them from southern Europe and a good number from Armenia and Syria — embarked at Cherbourg as well.

By 8:30, the last passengers were aboard and the handful who were only traveling cross-channel had disembarked. The Titanic's engines rumbled to life, the anchor was raised, and the ship slowly sailed toward its last stop — Queenstown, Ireland. Meanwhile, many of the passengers headed to the dining saloons for a late dinner. Since it was the first night at sea, and as so many had only just come on board, appropriate dress was overlooked. Others, exhausted by their travels and the excitement of boarding, chose to retire early.

The following morning, Thursday, April 11, dawned so chilly and breezy that few passengers wanted to sit on deck. Instead, many toured the ship or enjoyed the public rooms. Third-class passengers had fewer public rooms to explore, but one group started up a skipping game outside on the aft well deck, and they were soon joined by others. In second class, the many children took over the enclosed promenade space at the aft end of C Deck, three decks below the Boat Deck, and it soon became their unofficial playground.

Later in the morning, passengers began gathering out on deck to look at the Irish coastline as they approached Queenstown. There, the liner anchored off Roche's Point while passengers and mail were tendered from shore.

At 1:30, the propellers began churning mud from the bottom of the harbor entrance as they started to turn, and the ship eased away from Queenstown for its westbound journey. After the pilot left the ship, she steamed along the south coast of Ireland for the rest of the afternoon. Finally, the land curved off to the north, gradually disappearing into the growing darkness. Many of the Irish emigrants who had just boarded knew this was probably the last time they would ever see their homeland.