Continuous Titanic Story Use Your Imaginations


Nov 22, 2000
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Meanwhile, deep in the bowels of this gigantic ocean liner, three elderly gentlemen huddled in their tiny cabin. Behe and Whitfield sat close to Cook who bared his gums to show one tooth in the middle. As an Englishman, it was Whitfield's first introduction to "central eating" and he basked in the warmth of its heat.
"Hey Whitfield, said Behe, are you sure this is the Isle of Wight ferry?" we seem to be one helluva long time in crossing eighteen miles of water!" Being an american, Behe hadn't realised that everything in England goes slowly - if at all!
"Excuse me Mr. Cook" said Whitfield - as an Englishman he had been taught to be polite at all times, even when addressing a rough Texan! "But why are you wearing that ship's life ring under your Norfolk jacket?"
"Ain't no life ring you stuck up limey fool" retorted Cook, just the spare 150 pounds of weight I'm carrying."
Whitfield, realising his mistake, vainly attempted to change the subject, after all it really was his fault that they had taken this ship as being somewhat confused and short sighted, he had joined the wrong queue at Southampton Docks!
"This is called The Ship of Dreams" chirrped Behe only to be shot down by a snarl from Cook "Dreams be ******** - I've had nightmares all last night"
His companions thought it wise not to mention that Cook had twice emptied the pickle tray at dinner last night and was probably being paid back!

To be continued.........
 

Inger Sheil

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Dec 3, 2000
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If that's a bottle of rum you're holding out, Geoff, I'll gather up my chiffon train and climb back over the rail.
 
Nov 22, 2000
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To escape their cramped quarters, the tiresome trio made their way up on deck and headed for the stern. Behe's geography for once paid off, and having accessed the engine room, various cabins and finally the bridge, at last found their way to the blunt end of the ship. Cook and Behe experienced great difficulty with the ladders and walkways, they were, after all, old and feeble. Whitfield, however, was a different story as he shimmied down ladders and over obstacles like the young Adonis he was!
Reaching the rail they espied a beautiful young girl, perched with one leg over the rail and the other hanging over into the great unknown that lay below them. Behe said "I recognise that young woman from the newspapers" "So do I whispered Cook - wasn't she on the"America's Most Wanted Woman" slot on t.v.? "No," cried Whitfield, for he knew breeding when he saw it (having been raised on a pig farm) "It is the infamous Inger, Lady Sheil, that well known purloiner of women's jewels and breaker of countless men's hearts!"
But lo, who is that with her? and look, here are crew members rushing towards them, we must away before we are discovered, after all, we've popped up onto the poop, had a peep, now we must pop down again! Behe and Whitfield fled the scene whilst Cook waddled behind leaving Lady Inger to explain why she was found with her leg over the rail in the first place.
To be continued......
 

Inger Sheil

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Dec 3, 2000
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"...and that's the story, Mr Rowe. While I still hold to my theory that being towed behind a ship and being bourne aloft by the currents of the air, assisted by one of these new-fangled 'parachutes' - hence the rather catchy name of 'paragliding' that I have coined - sounds like a jolly good way to have fun, the practical experiment I have just conducted of lowering myself over the side of the ship with my train standing in for the key device has led me to believe that perhaps it might be more practical with a somewhat smaller vessel. Maybe even a motorised pleasure boat..."

The QM's eyes had long since glazed over, and it was clear he was more than prepared to let the entire matter drop. The stash was safe for another night. "But one more thing, miss - who were those three shadowy figures I saw slipping into the dark like elegant and elusive bull elephants?"

"Search me. I rather think a vaudeville act, who earn their crusts of bread wandering from village cemetary to cemetary, entertaining the funeral processions and earning a pittance." Although I had to confess, as I breathlessly clutched the pearl choker at my neck and idly wished my stays weren't quite so tight, that one of them looked like a veritable Greek God.

Bacchus, perhaps, attended by two satyrs...
 
Dec 7, 2000
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Sorry to jump in and spoil the fun, you guys are a kack. I know for sure that when Whitfield steps in the humor just flows!
proud.gif
Now all we need is Cook and Behe themselves to tell their side of the tale!
 
Dec 2, 2000
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It was fortunate that the two researchers dressed warmly for their expedition to the boatdeck, and even more fortunate that they had the night vision equipment to see what was going on. The Titanic had never gone faster and at 22.5 knots, the wind that this put across the deck was brutally cold.

The sea was calm, the stars bright, but with no moon out, when they had stepped outside, at first all they could make out was a velvety blackness. The stars came out only as their eyes adjusted. A few other adventerous couples came out, but the wind chill being what it was, they didn't linger for long. Just as well, as there was less of a chance that anyone would overhear what Mike and Teri Lynn had to say to each other.

"There's one." Teri said, pointing to a craggy form floating in the water which seemed tto glide past to starboard. Mike checked his watch. It was a nondescript looking thing that outwardly looked no different from any other watch available in 1912. The guts however, were state of the art 21st century.
"Nine ten pm." Mike said as he watched the berg recede astern. "George Behe's sources got it right. They were in the icefield early."
"Only the outer edge. The part that extends east to west." Teri pointed out "The road block you've always gone on about is still way ahead. Any sign of the Californian?"
Mike shook his head.
"Nope. They'ed be too far ahead anyway...there's another one."
The next iceberg was a little smaller then the first or further away. Even with the incredible advances made in the micro-engineering which made it possible to make night vision goggles look like eyeglasses, nobody had ever been able to solve the problem of bolluxed up depth perception with these things.
"And another."Teri said, and that was the last one they saw for a spell. For the next half hour, all they saw was the smooth and glassy ocean. To maintain appearances, they made a point of strolling up and down the length of the boat deck from time to time, but they never did so for long. Almost by default, they took up station in the gap between lifeboats 7 and 9.

Occasionally, they looked back to see the subtle glow of the ships wake. Even when they took their glasses off, it was faintly visible. It was closing on 10:30 when they saw more ice. A few fragments at first, then some small chunks, then growlers and occasionally a big one loomed up, only to glide harmlessly astern. About 11:10, they felt the ship heel over to port ever so slightly, even out, then heel back to starboard befor turning onto their base course.
"That was intersting."Teri remarked. "Looks like they missed one."
"Yeah, and what didn't you hear?" Mike asked.
"Bells from the crows nest. The bridge watch spotted it and the lookouts missed it. I'll bet Fleet and Lee are catching some hell from the bridge right about now. Odd that it never came out in either inquiry."
"I don't think so." Mike opinined "If you'd had you're stern section reamed out by the boss, I don't think you'd be anxious to advertise the fact in a public forum."
"And the failure to mention the iceberg they had to have dodged?"
"Bring up the fact that you missed even one at the inquiries befor the fatal encounter but still cracked on...well...you're facing lawyers, not mariners. You're a smart lady, Teri. You do the math."
"Point taken." Teri sighed. She'd have found reasons to be less then forthcoming about that too. Her bet now was that E.J. Smith Had been advised of the situation by now, and even if he wasn't on the bridge, he was lurking close by in the shadows or the chartroom. It certainly explained why he arrived so quickly. He had never really been gone.

The pack ice was getting denser now, and closing on 11:30, there was a warning bell from the crows nest that was barekly audible. The ship heeled over to port and about twenty seconds later, another berg glided past. To Mike and Teri, they were no longer things of awesome beauty, but craggy, ugly, and menacing.

"That was close." Mike said with a greater calm then they felt once the ship settled back on course. Several minutes later, they heard seven bells which marked the time of 11:30. Still, the growlers and fragments passed on by. Surprisingly, the icefield wasn't quite as dense as they thought it would be, and both suspected that this was giving them a false sense of security on the bridge. It would be a fatal conciet on their part. Mike checked his watch.

11:38

"I hope those monitors we set up are working right." They had set up the tiny devices all along the starboard rail and even on one of the lifeboats. Their own recorders were also working.
"So do I." Teri said nervously.

11:40.

Three bells rang out sharply from the crows nest and they saw a darkened form out on the starboard bridge wing dart back inside. They just barely heard a cry of,
"Hard a starboard!" Murdoch's voice carried out.
"It's showtime." Mike said grimly.
 
May 12, 2005
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All,

I'll describe what I recall that night from the perspective of dress - or "undress," as the following account will "bare" out:

Geoff did not clothe himself nearly so warmly as has been reported. As I recall, he was in rather a wrinkled plaid dressing-gown, which showed far too much knee than was warranted, and with not a stitch underneath. However his head was cozily covered in a stocking cap (a bit stretched I should add).

He was accompanied by his cohorts George and Cook who appeared to have thought even less about the cold and, having just come from their baths apparently, were wrapped only in a blanket - yes, I mean to say they actually had a SINGLE steamer rug between them and you can't imagine how ridiculous they looked, hobbling about, two peas in a wooly pod.

Ing managed only a mink stole and a mis-matched pair of galoshes (lifted from Parks who had to wear her feathered mules)but she did send Kate (in a chemise and sneakers) back to their cabin for her flask.

Tracy stepped upon the deck wearing only an officer's coat and a very naughty smirk.

Michael wore a lovely gold pony-tail clasp and nothing else; oh, wait, no, I forget he had on sandles.

Phil G was likewise in the buff but luckily carried his legendary large notebook which, as he is from Texas afterall, barely concealed his pride.

Shelley, in a rose chiffon shoulder scarf and a wee cluster of expertly placed stick-on leaves, intercepted Kate and wrestled her for Ing's flask. (Kate managed to escape Shell's clutches but did keep the brandy to herself, telling Ing she never found it)

Teri/Bruce wore, as we all know, a frill-fronted shirt, evening trousers, and carpet slippers; see A Night to Remember for verification.

I was wrapped in a sail by all the above former friends, tied down with an anchor, and promptly tossed overboard. I was rescued eventually by Phil H (fully dressed for once!), who was sailing by, though even he threw me back in the sea on realizing who I was.

It was an awfully lonely swim to shore.

Randy
 

Pat Cook

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Apr 27, 2000
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(Message found floating in a bottle, August 27, 1914)

"To whoever reads this, let it be known:

My name is of no consequence. However, for the sake of correctness, just refer to me as "Cook" (ironically that is also my name). On April 10th while dining at a less that reputable establishment (called the "Bash You Head Inn", I believe), I was drugged and dragged aboard the R. M. S. Titanic. Unaccustomed to such brutish behavior, I found, when waking under a piano, that the two gentlemen who had performed this fowl deed (I kept telling them it was a FOUL deed, with a 'U' but they said no, since I was a goose ripe for the plucking that fowl was correct) were named Behe and Whitfield. Fearing to be sold into slavery (or in exchange for food, which these two never seemed to get enough of - the sucking of chicken bones could be heard for miles!) I pleaded with them to let me go. Laughing with fiendish glee, Whitfield choked on a beef bone while Behe outlined for me their horrific plans.

"When we reaches New York," he cackled (which is hard to do and talk at the same time), "We've gots PLENTY of uses for the likes of you!"

Whitfield was a nice shade of purple by this time, a hue of which actually flattered him. For the next day or so, I found myself constantly in the company of these two characters, even in the shower (which was a little too cozy for my liking but we only had one bar of soap, they said - this gives you a good idea of their reasoning.)

Then just as the third day approached, I found myself on deck and was grabbed and shoved viciously into - oops, out of room. (To be continued in the next bottle.)
 
Dec 2, 2000
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Easley South Carolina
The monitors that Teri Lynn and Mike had planted throughout the ship were doing their job. So well in fact that the people at the Time Corps Mission Operations section saw the first death as it happened in "real time". The stoker who was traversing the Fireman's tunnel at the time of the collision would never be identified. Nobody would ever know exactly why he was there at that particular time, but the end result was really all that mattered.

On his way to Boiler Room 6, the man was startled to see the watertight door come slamming down, cutting off his access and with little in the way of warning beyond the local alarm bells. He stood there puzzled for just a few seconds. Seconds which would have been better spent running for the stair tower. It would be a fatal mistake. The impact with the ice ram which most would utterly fail to notice higher up was enough to knock him off of his feet and send him toppling over to crack his skull against the bulkhead. He was knocked out cold and drowned when the sea came gushing in through the opening that was punched in the starboard side.

For most throughout the ship, the event passed unnoticed beyond maybe a mild shudder. In fact, nearly everyone in bed slept right through it. For Mike and Teri Lynn, they noticed the ship heeling over to starboard as the Titanic's bow swung to port.
Very quick response on the helm, they both thought, even knowing it would not be enough. As the bow came around, they saw the iceberg. An even darker blackness which blotted out the stars, but which glistened ever so slightly from the glow of the ship's lights. Teri glanced forward to see Murdoch's head staring out ahead, then he darted back in. They destinctly heard the order, "HARD A PORT!"

"That never made it into the inquiries!" Teri exclaimed
"I'm not surprised." Mike said. Below their feet, they could feel the deck tilting over to port as the heading changed to starboard. They could see the iceberg even better now. There was a little frost glistening whitely on the surface of the craggy beast. They never felt the moment of impact, although they would never forget the subtle crunching sound coming up from below. Like marbles rolling across a floor as one witness described...or tires crunching through newly fallen snow. It only lasted a few seconds and then the Titanic was carried off by her own momentum. She hardly seemed to break her stride.

Mike and Teri watched the iceberg glide on past to receed astern. Were it not for the night vision equipment they had, it would have vanished like a ghost into the night.

"So that's it." Teri said. Mike nodded.
"Yeah. Dial 1-800-werescrewed."
"On that hard a port order...you said you weren't surprised that it was never mentioned. Why?"
"Think about it a minute. Murdoch tried his level best to avoid hitting the thing." Mike explained "He did the only thing he could. Any other way, and he'd have either rammed the thing or he would have torn the ship open from stem to stern. But consider this; the people at the inquiries the survivors had to know they would face are lawyers, not seamen. There were a few token representatives at both of these dysfunctions, but the advocates ran the show and made the findings of fact. What happened when we came about?"
"We effectively turned into..." Teri stopped when she realised what Mike was driving at."Jesus...we turned into the iceberg!"
"Ahhhh....yep. A mariner would understand what Murdoch was trying to accomplish and why, but try explaining that to a lawyer or some other elected wag."
"The witness and Murdoch's reputation would be roasted over the coals." Teri realised. By now, the ship had glided to a stop and they see some activity on the bridge. After a several minutes, they felt the engines starting again and the ships head came about to point to the north.
"Now..."Teri said, "Everything goes to hell."
 
Apr 11, 2001
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(Arriving fashionable LATE as usual)- Rose scarf and leaves! My DEARS it was the tablecloth and centerpiece from the a la carte! I glide smoothly over the deck to the deck chair-it is nearly time for hot consomme in tiny cups...what a delicious steward- looks like Cook- my old tango partner.Oh dear- it is that young man wanting to do the Navahjo Rag again...too tiresome.Just let me get this poetry book out of my bag..let's see.."When I was One and Fifty..." How time does fly..Lord Whitfield is ambling over to take me to hear Miss Snodgrass play Flight of the Bumblebee. I will pretend I am dozing.....My he is persistent. "Yes Geoffrey darling-I KNOW all about that empty cabin your steward told you about." Time for my Turkish bath- the Countess is waiting. Who IS that wretched girl SPITTING over the rail up there? Norman! Go play shuffleboard with Daddums..don't forget your gloves.
 
Apr 11, 2001
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Musing gently whilst percolating on the mechanical camel...ah- if Daddums only knew about that moon-drenched night in Deauville- I was so unhappy -and that tall dark and handsome stranger was so kind...what was his name?
 
May 12, 2005
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I'm sorry for shattering the mood of romance. Surely it was NOT Ralph but Pierre-Luc or Jean-Paul or Rene or Louis? Those names go with sweet-nothings in moonlight much better than Ralph who sounds too much like a butcher in the Bronx.
 
Nov 22, 2000
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Fellow Travellers, let me first answer some of the contradictions in your statements.
Yes, Behe and I showered with Cook - and why not? After all, the crest on our family silver roughly translates as "You sure know who your friends are when you've only got one bar of soap".
Randy was correct in noting our apparent lack of dress upon deck, for we had fled the confines of our tiny cabin/shower when Behe suggested playing "Let's hunt the soap!" We were given these clothes to cover us when some of the passengers claimed to have spotted three whales and thought it good sport to pursue us!
Shelley, you sly fox! you fooled our plan to lure you to our supposedly empty cabin! The plan was to take you there and force you to clean up the mess that three old gentlemen make when confined in a small space!
Cook wanted your outer garments too, he wanted to charm his way around some of the millionaires aboard in that cocquetish manner that only he can adopt. Yet you were too clever for us - you forget we knew you in the days when you were plain
Hilda Bunnion and frequented the gambling dens of two continents as well as the the liners. What is it they used to say about you? Oh yes, I recall it now:

"Dealing cards to city slickers,
pulling aces from her knickers"

So don't come the great lady to us my girl, you've been rumbled!
 
Apr 11, 2001
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Scallywags all! A girl has to make a living after all. Not a word to Mr. Sturges! I may have to tell Lady Whitfield about Annette! Yes- I SAW you round the pianoforte singing the Amherst Fight Song last night-and then in the shadows of that lifeboat. Shocking- she could be your daughter. Don't play fast and loose with Hilda my man! And I have NEVER been rumbled in me life-er..my life. Ahem.
 
Apr 11, 2001
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Norman- back so soon? Go over there and play with that little boy with the top- standing next to that tall man who bears an uncanny resemblance to Don Lynch! What? Long pants for tonight? Go see Mrs. Brown, Dear- she seems to have a Mr. Tux in her steamer trunk. No, darling-I have NOT seen your sister-but last time I did some boiled shirt named Cal was showing her a flashy diamond.
 

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