The Titanic | Unsinkable | 1
37:17 Share

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts.

We're excited to announce that American History Teller's legacy season, The Space Race, is now available in full video on the American History Teller's YouTube channel. Relive the fierce competition between superpowers and witness history as it unfolds in a whole new way. Subscribe to the American History Teller's channel on YouTube and let us know what you think.

Imagine it's a cool morning in early May 1911 at the Harland and Wolfe Shipyard in Belfast, Ireland. Your job is to oversee the boatbuilder's shop, and you're currently tackling a monumental task, constructing the wooden lifeboats for the largest ship that's ever been built, the RMS Titanic. Its maiden voyage is less than a year away, and your crew is rushing to meet deadline.

You weave your way between workers hammering and sawing as you lead Bruce Ismay through the busy yard. He's the managing director for the Titanic shipping line, and the two of you are getting ready for an important meeting with an inspector from the British Board of Trade. You need him to survey the lifeboats and issue a certificate before the Titanic can launch. And right now, you need Ismay to make a final decision on the number of lifeboats he wants on board.

You point to one of the boats under construction, 30 feet long and able to carry 65 to 70 people. Well, so far we've completed 16, sir, and we've started building another 16. It's my understanding you wanted 32 on the Titanic. The new davit cranes we've ordered can hold two lifeboats each. With eight davit, starboard, and eight portside, we can easily hang 32 boats. But 32? Wouldn't that crowd the promenade deck?

Not much room for passengers to walk. Well, I suppose it would make things a bit tight on the top deck. Besides, I'm still waiting to see if the Board of Trade updates its regulations. Currently, for ships above 10,000 tons, they only require 16 lifeboats. Right, sir, but those regulations are almost two decades old. The Titanic is nearly 50,000 tons, so I assume 32 boats would be the minimum. 48 would be even better. 48? That's absurd. Look, just leave the matter to me, would you?

Ismay is a powerful man in the company, and you need to be careful not to offend him. Still, you feel you should speak your mind about safety. Well, of course, sir. But if I may, the Titanic can carry more than 3,000 passengers and crew. Sixteen lifeboats would only be able to hold about a third of those. We also have our four collapsible lifeboats, don't we? That's right, sir, but that still only gives the capacity of, I don't know, about 1,200 in an emergency.

Well, we launched the Olympic with just 16 lightboats. The board approved that number, and I believe they'll do the same with the Titanic. Well, perhaps you're right about the board, but...

Is that what we should do? Just meet the minimum requirement? Meeting the minimum requirement keeps costs in check. And we don't want to send the wrong message about the ship's safety. It would raise questions. Why add more lifeboats to the Titanic but not our other ship? Well, I see your point. And may I remind you, the Titanic has been designed to be unsinkable. The ship itself is a lifeboat. These little wooden things are mere decorations. They'll never even touch the water.

You bite your lip and say nothing more, and as your boss stalks off, now all you can do is hope the Board of Trade changes its requirements and forces your employer to do the right thing. You know this new ship is already gaining a reputation for being invincible, and that its safety features are state-of-the-art. But you still feel you have a duty to make sure in the rush for glory, your company doesn't leave safety behind.

If you love iPhone, you'll love Apple Card. It comes with the privacy and security you expect from Apple. Plus, you earn up to 3% daily cash back on every purchase, which can automatically earn interest when you open a high-yield savings account through Apple Card.

Apply for Apple Card in the Wallet app, subject to credit approval. Savings is available to Apple Card owners, subject to eligibility. Apple Card and Savings by Goldman Sachs Bank USA Salt Lake City Branch. Member FDIC. Terms and more at applecard.com.

American History Tellers is sponsored by IPVanish. Here in the United States, we have a constitutional right against unreasonable search and seizures under the Fourth Amendment. And courts have ruled we have a right to privacy under the Ninth and Fourteenth Amendments. But none of that is stopping your data and internet activity from being searched and seized by ad companies.

That's why everything you do online should be done with IPVanish. IPVanish is a top-tier virtual private network, or VPN, designed to enhance your online privacy and security. It encrypts your data across all devices, whether you're on a computer, tablet, phone, or even using a fire stick for streaming. If you're ready to enhance your online security, visit IPVanish.com and get great savings on an annual plan. Protect your online privacy with IPVanish and enjoy top-notch support and security.

From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American History Tellers. Our history, your story. American History Tellers

On our show, we'll take you to the events, the times, and the people that shaped America and Americans. Our values, our struggles, and our dreams. We'll put you in the shoes of everyday people as history was being made. And we'll show you how the events of the times affected them, their families, and affects you now.

When the RMS Titanic launched in April of 1912, it became the largest vessel to ever travel on water. It was the pinnacle of luxury, its interior designed to be as elegant as the world's most prestigious hotels, and it was deemed an engineering marvel. Those who designed and built the ship believed it to be incapable of sinking.

But just five days into its maiden voyage, the hull of the Titanic scraped against an iceberg in the frigid waters of the North Atlantic. The ship took just two and a half hours to sink, and due to a series of errors, including an insufficient number of lifeboats, nearly two-thirds of the 2,200 passengers and crew were killed, including some of the wealthiest people of the day.

The loss of the Titanic was one of the most shocking and tragic maritime disasters in modern history, and more than a century later, fascination with the Titanic's legacy remains as new discoveries and submarine visits to the wreckage have shed more light on this doomed journey.

And if you want to learn more about other pivotal events from American history, you can read about them in a new book inspired by American history tellers. The Hidden History of the White House takes readers inside the iconic seat of American presidential power and reveals 15 behind-the-scenes moments that changed the course of history. It's available now from William Morrow, wherever you get your books. Follow the link in the show notes to learn more.

This is Episode 1 of our series on the Titanic, Unsinkable. At the start of the 20th century, a fierce rivalry erupted between the top players in global shipping as they raced to dominate transatlantic travel. Immigration from Europe to America was on the rise, and with more people crossing the Atlantic, the demand for fast and affordable passenger ships also increased. One of the companies vying to capture the market was the White Star Line.

White Star had been founded in 1845 in Liverpool, England, and by the early 1900s was run by an English businessman named Bruce Ismay. In 1902, American financier J.P. Morgan bought White Star and named Ismay president of its parent company, International Mercantile Marine. Together, Morgan and Ismay were determined to create a monopoly over the Atlantic shipping route.

But their plans were disrupted when a rival shipping company, Cunard, leapt ahead with the launch of two impressive new passenger ships, the Mauritania and the Lusitania. In 1907, these ships were the largest ever built and could cross the Atlantic in a record five days.

Ismay knew he had to respond, and later that year he met with William James Peary, known as Lord Peary, who oversaw the massive Harland & Wolfe shipbuilding firm in Belfast, Ireland. The two men hatched a plan to build three new White Star ships, each larger and more luxurious than Cunard's liners.

So in 1909, Ismay began construction on the first two vessels, the Olympic and the Titanic. While Cunard's goal had been to build fast ships, White Star aspired to bring luxury to overseas travel too. Ismay and the other White Star directors believed people would pay more for comforts like nice beds, fine food, a gymnasium, a swimming pool, and smoking lounges.

Whitestar also boasted that the Titanic, at 883 feet long, would be the largest moving object in human history.

Thomas Andrews, the engineer who drafted the Titanic's design plans, also aimed to make the nearly 50,000-ton ship the safest on Earth. The bottom of Titanic's hull featured double-layered steel, and the hull itself was segmented by steel bulkheads, thick walls that created 16 watertight compartments. In the event of an emergency, doors between the compartments would be sealed shut, preventing flooding in any one compartment from reaching other sections.

Andrews and the other White Star managers believed these and other safety features would mean the Titanic was practically unsinkable. But the scale and ambition of such a project did not come cheap. The Titanic and its sister ship, the Olympic, cost $7.5 million each. They were built side-by-side at Harland and Wolfe's shipyard in Belfast, one of the largest in the world and employing more than 15,000 people.

The Olympic was the first to launch. On May 29, 1911, she began sea trials in advance of her maiden transatlantic voyage scheduled for mid-June.

Two days later, on May 31st, the Olympic departed Belfast, headed for Liverpool. Bruce Ismay and the White Star Company had intentionally scheduled the Olympics departure to coincide with another important event, the launch of the Titanic's hull from its wooden construction platforms. That day in Belfast, more than 100,000 people turned out to watch as the Titanic's support beams were lathered up with oil and soap and the giant ship was pushed gently into the river Lagan.

Journalists were so impressed by the size and beauty of the Titanic that they proclaimed the ship the finest ever built, even though her interior would take another 10 months to complete. Titanic's maiden voyage was set for March of 1912. But in September of 1911, the Olympic collided with a Royal Navy cruiser, the HMS Hawk. Materials and manpower were diverted to repairing the Olympic, which delayed the Titanic's completion by a month.

But finally, on April 1st, 1912, construction of the Titanic was finished. Like the Olympic, before it could embark on its maiden voyage, the ship had to complete safety tests known as sea trials. At the helm was a veteran captain assigned by Whitestar who'd been with the company for decades and crossed the Atlantic dozens of times. A man the company directors felt could handle the speed and strength of such a behemoth.

Imagine it's 6 a.m. on April 2nd, 1912. You are the 62-year-old captain of the RMS Titanic, which is scheduled to begin its maiden voyage across the Atlantic in just eight days. Today, you're in the wheelhouse, watching as tugboats slowly guide the massive ship out of Belfast Harbor to begin a day of sea trials.

An inspector from the Board of Trade is with you to verify that the Titanic is safe and seaworthy. Even with your decades of experience, you're not sure how this ship will perform. It's been built at a rapid pace and harnesses a massive amount of power.

Still, when you turn to address the inspector, you make sure to project confidence. Now, I know you'll see some workmen from Harland and Wolfe aboard. They're still finishing up installations, carpeting, cabinets, light fixtures. But all that will be complete by the time we reach Southampton next week. And none of it, of course, will affect our trials today. Thank you, Captain, but I'm only concerned with the ship's performance at sea, not the amenities.

Well, the firemen began stoking the coal at four o'clock this morning, so we'll be able to get her up to full steam shortly. Well, that's good. We don't have much time. You know, I prefer two days for trials, but the weather was horrible yesterday. It cleared up for us today, though, didn't it?

And I don't think time will be a problem. You know, the Olympic sea trials went very well, and she and the Titanic are sister ships. I fully expect they'll behave very much the same. And as you know, I was captain of the Olympic for nearly a year. She performed flawlessly. Well, except for that collision with the HMS Hawk, you mean.

You had hoped the inspector wouldn't bring this incident up, which occurred when suction from the Olympic's powerful engines pulled the Navy ship into its hull. Yes, that was unfortunate, but also a valuable lesson in how we must navigate these larger ships. So now let's see if Titanic is indeed equal to her sister. You take a quick breath, knowing this is the moment that will test the ship's boilers and engines. You turn to your chief officer and issue the order. All ahead full.

Within seconds, you can feel the engines reach full steam and the Titanic begins to surge ahead. With 29 boilers and three reciprocating engines, we'll reach 20 knots in no time. She is impressive. I'd like to see some turns, of course. Of course. And after that, we'll reverse engines and conduct a crash stop test. We should be able to bring her to a full halt in about 800 yards.

You begin issuing orders as you put the Titanic through a series of maneuvers and exercises. You're already satisfied with her performance, and the inspector seems to be too. You feel confident you'll pass the sea trials with flying colors. And if the inspector signs your passenger certificate, you may be able to sail for Southampton tonight. Already, you're looking forward to watching more than 1,300 passengers eagerly climb aboard next week.

On April 2nd, tugboats pulled the Titanic out from Belfast Harbor into open water. The man leading the vessel was Captain Edward Smith. The well-respected veteran had captained 17 previous ships and sailed an estimated 2 million miles for White Star over his 38-year career. But he was also at the helm of the Olympic the previous year when it crashed with a naval warship.

Despite that unfortunate accident, Smith was given command of the Titanic, and to demonstrate the Titanic's seaworthiness, Smith practiced turning the enormous vessel left, then right, stopping and starting, and turning in a full circle. After half a day of exercises, Smith was satisfied with the ship's performance, as were the head of White Star Bruce Ismay and Thomas Andrews, who had designed the ship.

Most importantly, though, Francis Carruthers, the inspector for the British Board of Trade, was also convinced of the ship's abilities. Carruthers signed the required certificate declaring the ship seaworthy, valid for 12 months.

After the successful sea trials, Captain Smith prepared to sail the Titanic away from Belfast for the last time. At 8 o'clock that night, tens of thousands of people turned out to watch the ship leave the city. Smith and his crew sailed the Titanic across the Irish Sea and up the English Channel to the White Star Docks south of London, arriving just past midnight on April 4, 1911.

The passengers and the rest of the crew would arrive in six days. But there was still much work to be done, and there was also the matter of a fire burning below deck. At some point during or soon after the sea trials, a fire had ignited in one of the giant coal bunkers on the starboard side of the ship. Crews had begun dousing the fire with water, but it began to look doubtful that they'd extinguish it in time for the planned launch on April 10th.

Captain Smith had dealt with coal fires before and was not overly concerned. He felt confident his crew could keep the fire contained in its bunker, and he knew from experience that they could launch even if the fire was still burning. So, meanwhile, Smith got to know members of his new crew. The gray-bearded captain recognized many of White Star's old hands, but other faces were new to him due to a last-minute reshuffling of crew members.

All of them, nearly 900 in total, were still getting to know the ship, learning their way along its ten decks, miles of corridors, and scores of stairways. Crew below decks had to familiarize themselves with boilers and engines that devoured a ton of coal every two minutes.

At the same time, construction crews raced to complete the finishing touches, painting and wiring, tightening door hinges and installing carpets, light fixtures, and furniture. Hundreds of bouquets of flowers were brought aboard too, in part to hide the smell of drying varnish.

Meanwhile, thousands of tons of coal were loaded onto bunkers, and cranes and winches hauled up cargo, including six pianos, a new Renault automobile, and priceless antique books. The crew also packed in enough food for an army. 75,000 pounds of meat, 10,000 pounds of sugar, 36,000 oranges, 15,000 bottles of beer, and 35,000 eggs.

But on the morning of April 10th, as the ship prepared to start taking on passengers, Captain Smith learned that the coal bunker fire was still raging. He ordered the crew not to discuss it for fear of attracting bad press. After all, Smith knew the Titanic would launch as scheduled. Delaying the maiden voyage was not an option.

American History Tellers is sponsored by Audible. I read Malcolm Gladwell's Tipping Point when it came out. The book that made him famous and introduced ideas like expertise takes 10,000 hours of practice. But there was a backlash. It's not rigorous. It's oversimplified. Who does he think he is? I'll tell you exactly who he is. The kind of irreverent, limber thinker that addresses the controversy with revenge of the tipping point, over stories, super spreaders, and the rise of social engineering. I couldn't hit listen now fast enough in my Audible app.

There's more to imagine when you listen. And as an Audible member, you choose one title a month to keep from their entire catalog. New members can try Audible free for 30 days. Visit audible.com slash tellers or text tellers to 500-500.

You're listening to American History Tellers, and first off, thank you very much. But second, have you heard you can listen ad-free? With Amazon Music, you have access to the largest catalog of ad-free top podcasts included with your Prime membership. To start listening, download the Amazon Music app for free or go to amazon.com slash ad-free true crime. That's amazon.com slash ad-free true crime to listen to all your favorite podcasts, including history shows ad-free.

On April 10, 1912, passengers began arriving at the White Star docks in Southampton, England, to board the Titanic. One-way tickets ranged from seven pounds for a third-class berth to 86 pounds for a first-class stateroom. Two deluxe parlor suites went for 660 pounds each, about 120,000 U.S. dollars today.

The social divisions on the ship were apparent from the start. Of the ship's ten decks, seven were designated by letters, A through G. Stewards greeted first-class passengers boarding on the upper B and C decks and personally escorted them to their spacious staterooms, while third-class passengers, many of whom were emigrants from Ireland, Scandinavia, and Eastern Europe, were loaded onto the lower E decks by crowded gangways and inspected by medical officers for any sign of disease.

Most of these third-class passengers were making a journey to a new country, the bulk of them traveling abroad for the very first time. The first-class passengers, meanwhile, were returning from European vacations or traveling to the United States on business or pleasure. Many of them brought servants aboard. Among them were millionaires Benjamin Guggenheim and his mistress, and John Jacob Astor, one of the world's richest men, worth $150 million, traveling with his new 19-year-old wife, who was pregnant.

Other rich and famous passengers were writers, artists, and actresses, including silent film star Dorothy Gibson, fashion designer Lady Duff Gordon, and the Countess of Roths, a British philanthropist and socialite. Others in first class included Isidore Strauss and his wife Ida, who co-owned the Macy's department store in New York, and Harry Molson of the Canadian beer and banking family. A printed booklet listed all first and second class passengers, but not any of the names of those in third class.

And people weren't the only passengers aboard. At least 10 dogs traveled, too, including Jacob Astor's Airedale, named Kitty, and a Pekingese called Sun Yat-Sen, owned by Myra and Henry Harper of New York publisher Harper & Row. The dogs were kept in kennels on the F-Deck.

In all, nearly a thousand passengers boarded at Southampton, most in third class, including dozens of young children who were thrilled to be aboard their first ship. Hundreds more passengers would soon come aboard during the first two stops in France and southern Ireland. But as the third-class passengers began exploring the Titanic, they discovered that locked wrought iron gates separated their accommodations on the lower decks from the more luxurious amenities of the upper levels.

Some were also bothered by the loud thrum of engines just below them. But there was still mingling in the smoking room, the dining saloon, and the bar, where passengers could sing and dance in the evenings. White Star's designers had tried to make the third-class accommodations more comfortable than the cramped and dirty steerage decks of older ships and had included water basins and electricity in most third-class cabins.

The remainder of the ship's nearly 900-person crew had begun arriving at dawn that same day. They included room stewards, engineers, chefs, pursers, firemen, and coal stokers, as well as teenage pageboys, a masseuse, and a Turkish bath attendant.

That same morning, Captain Smith had said goodbye to his wife, Eleanor, and 12-year-old daughter, Helen. He took a taxi to the docks, then boarded the Titanic at 7.30 a.m., heading to his cabin to begin receiving final pre-launch reports from his officers. The ship's designer, Thomas Andrews, and others from Harlan and Wolfe, had been aboard since 6 a.m., and White Star's managing director, Bruce Ismay, had arrived at 9.30, settling into his luxurious stateroom.

So by 11.30 a.m., all passengers were on board. Then, at the stroke of noon, Captain Smith gave the order to sound the ship's horns, which echoed across Southampton. Officers confirmed that all was ready, and Smith ordered the ship's mooring lines to be cast off. Imagine it's midday on April 10, 1912. You're a grocer from the village of Bishopstow, a small town south of London where you sang in the church choir.

But that life is behind you now. You, your wife Charlotte, and your eight-year-old daughter Marjorie are among the hundreds of passengers on board the Titanic excited to begin your trip to America and a new start. Sitting on deck, you pull your coat tight. It has your entire life savings sewn into its lining.

Then you lean over the railing and watch as six tugboats lead the Titanic away from her berth and turn to a fellow passenger beside you. Magnificent ship, isn't she? Like a floating palace. Yes, it's like a small town. My cabin even has hot water. Mine too. Second class? Where are you headed? New York City. Hoping to find work in a restaurant. Yourself? My family and I are headed to Idaho. I put a down payment on a fruit farm there. Some friends are out there already and say it's beautiful.

So I'll go from selling fruit in a shop to growing it myself. Oh, my goodness. Just feel the power of those engines. I've never been on a ship like this before. Never left England, in fact. Neither have I. But I've been reading about this ship. My wife is nervous, but I keep reminding her we're on the safest ship afloat. Yeah, they say she's unsinkable. Well, let's hope so.

It feels good to be pulling away from the pier and to share a moment with a fellow passenger. You wave at the crowds of people seeing you off from shore. "My, those people just look like ants down there. And those other ships look like toys. Our propeller seems to be creating quite the current look."

As the Titanic starts to exit the narrow channel, you glide past two passenger ships tied off at a pier. You and your fellow passenger watch in shock as the underwater force of the Titanic's giant propellers starts to pull one of the ships, the New York, away from its moorings. Suddenly, ropes and cables begin snapping, and the New York starts quickly drifting toward the Titanic. Oh my, she's loose, coming right at us. We're gonna collide.

You and the other passenger grab the handrail and brace for impact. But then you feel the Titanic's powerful engines shift into reverse. The New York comes within just a few feet of striking the Titanic, but the tugboats race into action and help avert a disaster. You breathe a sigh of relief and clutch your coat again, feeling for the comforting lumps of cash hidden inside. You can't wait to start your new life in Idaho, but you can't help wondering if this narrowly avoided collision is a bad omen.

As the Titanic began to depart Southampton, second-class passenger Harvey Collier and others watched nervously from the deck as the power of the ship's churning 23-foot propellers tugged at a nearby ship, the New York, which was tied off at berth number 38. The New York's mooring ropes were stretched to their limit and snapped. Luckily, the Titanic's engines were reversed, pushing the New York away. With the help of nearby tugboats, a collision was averted.

Afterward, at last, the Titanic set sail for Cherbourg, France, a four-hour journey across the English Channel. On arrival in France, the Titanic picked up 274 more passengers and was soon underway again. By the next morning, the ship had reached Queenstown, Ireland, picking up another 120 passengers. And by 2 p.m. that day, the Titanic was sailing away from the south of Ireland and out into the open North Atlantic.

On the third-class promenade deck, passenger Eugene Daly played a sad song, Aaron's Lament, on his Irish bagpipes. Roughly 2,200 passengers and crew were now aboard.

Over the next two days, the sailing was smooth. First and second-class passengers were free to wander the hallways and upper decks, exploring the many amenities including the Turkish steam bath, the exercise room, the swimming pool, and squash court. Down in third class, gangs of restless boys explored the corridors and played games on deck, some of them scolded by crewmen for trying to climb the ship's ropes and cranes.

Musicians clustered to play songs on fiddle and accordion, and the air was filled with voices in a dozen languages. All were content and excited to be on their way, and there was some good news for the captain, too. Sometime on Saturday, April 13th, the ship's crew finally managed to extinguish the fire below in the coal bunker.

But there was another problem. After two days at sea, the ship's wireless room had become overwhelmed by requests from passengers wanting to send messages to friends and family on shore. The Marconi wireless was a novelty, and passengers took advantage of it.

For $3, passengers could send a 10-word wireless telegram. Each extra word cost $0.35. The two wire operators, Harold Bride and Jack Phillips, worked in alternating six-hour shifts. But by Sunday, April 14th, they were exhausted and frazzled as the messages kept piling up. Some were messages from businessmen on board, but many were fun, trivial notes to family ashore.

Unfortunately, the wireless machine was new technology, and it occasionally broke down, adding to the backlog of messages. And passenger correspondence wasn't the only thing that needed to come through. Since Friday afternoon, the wireless room had been receiving messages from other ships about ice in the sea lanes. In response to these reports, Captain Smith ordered his crew to steer the ship slightly further south, but to maintain speed.

Lookouts in the crow's nest on the ship's bow were told to keep a close eye out for icebergs, also known as growlers. But in the cold, dark night, the sea looked like an expanse of flat slate, and the lookouts struggled to keep watch as the Titanic's powerful engines churned westward, carrying 2,200 people directly into the ice fields.

Explaining football to the friend who's just there for the nachos? Hard. Tailgating from home like a pro with snacks and drinks everyone will love? An easy win. And with Instacart helping deliver the Snack Time MVPs to your door, you're ready for the game in as fast as 30 minutes. So you never miss a play or lose your seat on the couch or have

to go head-to-head for the last chicken wing. Shop Game Day Faves on Instacart and enjoy $0 delivery fees on your first three grocery orders. Offer valid for a limited time. Other fees and terms apply. Credit Karma makes building your credit straightforward and stress-free with help from our credit builder. Sign up today at creditkarma.com and start enhancing your financial health.

Credit Karma, your partner in building a brighter financial future. Credit Builder Plan is serviced by Credit Karma Credit Builder and requires a line of credit and savings account provided by Cross River Bank member FDIC.

On Sunday, April 14, 1912, the passengers and crew aboard the Titanic were enjoying a calm morning at sea as the ship traveled smoothly at around 22 knots, just shy of the Titanic's top speed. Captain Smith conducted a brief church service in first class, and a priest conducted Catholic Mass down in third class.

But a lifeboat drill scheduled for that morning was canceled when a breeze suddenly kicked up. And by afternoon, the temperature began to drop into the low 30s as the ship reached the middle of the North Atlantic. Nevertheless, the Titanic was on course and on schedule, due to arrive in New York three days later.

But as the ship sailed into the frigid northern waters of the Atlantic, in the Marconi wireless room, operators Harold Bride and Jack Phillips received four more reports of large icebergs and fields of ice pack. However, not all of these ice warnings made it to the ship's officers on the bridge due to the backlog of passenger messages and poor on-ship communication.

A message warning of icebergs ahead from another White Star liner called the Baltic did reach Captain Smith, who put the note in his pocket and went to lunch. On the promenade deck, Smith ran into Bruce Ismay, managing director of the shipping line, and handed him the slip of paper with the ice warning. Ismay then put it into his own pocket.

At sunset that night, Ismay stopped to chat with two women seated on deck chairs, including Marion Thayer, a wealthy passenger from Philadelphia. Ismay pulled the telegram slip from his pocket and casually told Thayer, We are in among the icebergs, but seemed otherwise unconcerned.

Later, at 9.20 p.m., Captain Smith and Second Officer Charles Leitholler briefly discussed the ice warnings and whether ice would be visible on such a calm, clear night. Smith told Leitholler to let me know at once of any problems, then retired to his room. Leitholler then warned the lookouts in the crow's nest to keep a sharp lookout for ice.

Ten minutes later, the wireless room received yet another warning about heavy ice pack and large icebergs breaking off from Greenland to the north. Wireless operator Jack Phillips was on duty at the time, but was still inundated by requests from passengers to send messages to friends and family on shore.

He believed that the previous reports he'd sent to the bridge about icebergs were sufficient, so he did not send the latest warnings through. But what Phillips did not know was that not all of the previous warnings had been shared with all of the officers on the bridge.

And then, at 10.55 p.m., Phillips received yet another message. This one from a steamship called the SS Californian, which was headed west to Boston. The Californian's captain had decided to stop sailing for the night due to heavy ice. His crew sent a message to the Titanic saying they were surrounded by icebergs.

But radio operator Phillips had been in the middle of receiving another incoming message for a passenger, and when the Californian's message crackled loudly through his headset, his frustrations came to a boil and he barked at the Californian, "'Shut up, shut up, keep out, I am busy.'"

The Californian was just a few miles away from the Titanic at the time, but its warning message never left the Titanic's wireless room. And after Philip's rude reply, the Californian's wire operator shut off his equipment and went to bed. Meanwhile, the Titanic continued steaming ahead into the night. Imagine it's nearing midnight on April 14th, 1912. It's a calm, clear night and bitterly cold.

You're at your post in the crow's nest, fifty feet above the top deck of the Titanic, looking out at the flat, grey surface of the Atlantic. The sea is like polished glass beneath a cloudless, starry sky.

Your fellow lookout, an older man named Reginald, is huffing and shuffling beside you, bundled in a wool coat and flapping his arms to stay warm. You can't wait to get off this precarious perch and crawl beneath the blankets in your bunk. But for now, you make conversation to stay alert. Well, just 20 minutes till knockoff. I think I'll sleep like a stone tonight, at least until our next shift. Let's just hope our relief arrives on time for a change. Those boys are always late. We should make sure they know about the ice warnings.

The Marconi room's gotten at least four reports. Officer Lightoller told me especially to watch for growlers. Well, no eyes out there that I can see. It's a bit hazy, but smooth as a dark mirror. I think that's the problem. No waves to show us where the icebergs might be. No moon. I wish I had binoculars. Who would be such a fool to keep them locked up but forget the key back in Southampton? I guess blame it on the last-minute crew shake-up.

You frame your hands above your eyes and continue to scan the waters. Without binoculars, you can only see a few hundred yards ahead, but you try your best, even though the ship is traveling fast. Then, suddenly, directly ahead, you spot a dark object. Small, but darker than the water. What's that? Where? Almost directly ahead, port. About the size of a fishing boat. I see it. Getting closer.

You tug the rope of the crow's nest warning bell and ring it three times, the signal for danger ahead. Then you reach behind Reginald and grab the telephone that connects directly to the bridge. An officer picks up and asks what you see. Iceberg, right ahead. The ship's second officer calmly thanks you and then hangs up.

You and Reginald then watch the iceberg getting nearer and growing larger. The exposed ice looms as high as the ship's upper deck, and you know that below the surface, the ice spreads even wider. Why aren't they turning? They're not going to make it. We're going to go right into it. For an excruciating half a minute, you both stand in silent horror, clutching the cold railing. Finally, at the last moment, the ship begins to slow down and turns slightly to the left.

You watch a glistening and jagged tower of ice slide past, scraping along the starboard side and showering chips of ice onto the front deck. Your partner heaves a sigh of relief. That was a close shave. Looks like we missed it. But you're not so sure. You can't help wondering if the ship cleared the bulk of the ice hidden beneath the surface of the water.

At 11.40 p.m. on April 14th, 24-year-old Titanic lookout Frederick Fleet spotted an iceberg dead ahead as he peered across dark waters from the crow's nest. Due to a pre-launch reshuffling of the crew, an officer had departed the ship in Southampton carrying the key to a locker containing binoculars. So Fleet and the other lookouts had no access to them and instead had to rely on their unaided eyesight. So it took a while to be sure that the dark object ahead of them was indeed an iceberg.

Immediately, Fleet rang the alarm bell and reported the eyes by telephone to the bridge. First Officer William Murdoch then quickly ordered the engine room to stop and reverse engines, the same crash-stop test that Captain Smith had practiced only 12 days earlier. Officer Murdoch then ordered the wheel to be turned hard starboard, which caused the bow of the ship to turn to the left or port side, but not fast enough.

The iceberg, later estimated to have weighed 50 million tons, rose at least 60 feet above the water and loomed over the Titanic's top deck. Its wide base scraped the front right side of the ship, sending an explosion of shredded ice across the starboard forward decks.

Many surviving crew and passengers later reported feeling a slight bump or jolt and a sound like grinding. One passenger described it as a ripping sound. Another said it felt as if a giant finger were being dragged along the side of the ship.

but many were unaware that anything was amiss. Many third-class passengers ventured out to the recreation deck to play with the chunks of ice that had piled up. One second-class passenger in the smoking room jokingly asked someone to get him some ice for his highball.

But deep in the bows of the ship, the engine crew quickly determined that the damage was severe. The collision gouged the steel plates of the ship's bow not far from where the coal fire had raged inside for days. Future investigators would speculate that the prolonged fire there may have weakened the hull.

Almost immediately, the ship began taking on water. Captain Smith was called to the bridge where he asked, "'What have we struck?' and was told, "'An iceberg, sir.'" Smith then summoned the ship's designer, Thomas Andrews, and together they descended down toward the engine rooms to inspect the damage. Below deck, they found water pouring into the mail room, which was situated toward the front of the ship below the bridge.

Engineers and firemen quickly rigged hoses to try and pump out the water, but the pumps couldn't keep up. Smith and Andrews soon learned that the 16 watertight compartments of the ship's hull were beginning to flood. Captain Smith knew his ship could stay afloat even if three or four of the first six compartments filled, but by midnight, just 20 minutes after the iceberg had struck, all six of the forward compartments were flooding.

Smith asked Andrews if he felt the ship was seriously damaged, and Andrews slowly told the captain, I'm afraid it is doomed. Five minutes later, at 12.05 a.m., Captain Smith ordered his crew to uncover the lifeboats. He then entered the radio room and told operators Phillips and Bride, we've struck an iceberg, and I'm having an inspection made to see what it has done to us. You better get ready to send out a call for assistance, but don't send it until I tell you.

Captain Smith returned only a few minutes later and then gave the order. Send the call for assistance. It was 1215 a.m. The Titanic was going down. From Wondery, this is episode one of our series on the Titanic from American History Tellers.

On the next episode, after realizing the Titanic is doomed to sink, Captain Edward Smith quickly issues orders to start loading the lifeboats. But with only 16 on board, there's no way for everyone to escape the sinking ship. As the severity of the disaster dawns on terrified passengers, panic erupts.

If you like American History Tellers, you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey.

If you'd like to learn more about the sinking of the Titanic, we recommend A Night to Remember, the classic account of the final hours of the Titanic by Walter Lord, and The Ship of Dreams, the sinking of the Titanic and the end of the Edwardian era by Gareth Russell.

American History Tellers is hosted, edited, and produced by me, Lindsey Graham for Airship. Audio editing by Christian Paraga. Sound design by Molly Bach. Music by Lindsey Graham. This episode is written by Neil Thompson. Edited by Dorian Marina. Produced by Alita Rozanski. Our production coordinator is Desi Blaylock. Managing producer, Matt Gant. Senior managing producer, Ryan Moore. Senior producer, Andy Herman. And executive producers are Jenny Lauer-Beckman, Marsha Louis, and Erin O'Flaherty for Wondery.

In the Pacific Ocean, halfway between Peru and New Zealand, lies a tiny volcanic island. It's a little-known British territory called Pitcairn, and it harboured a deep, dark scandal. There wouldn't be a girl on Pitcairn once they reached the age of 10 that was still a virgin. It just happens to all of us.

I'm journalist Luke Jones and for almost two years I've been investigating a shocking story that has left deep scars on generations of women and girls from Pitcairn. When there's nobody watching, nobody going to report it, people will get away with what they can get away with. In the Pitcairn Trials I'll be uncovering a story of abuse and the fight for justice that has brought a unique, lonely Pacific island to the brink of extinction.

Listen to the Pitcairn Trials exclusively on Wondery Plus. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app, Apple Podcasts or Spotify.