Titanic: Part 1 of 3

The White Star glimmers dazzlingly in the Belfast blue,

Look around, silver is the only color you’d view.

It started to feel as if I’ve been living there for an eternity. An eternity, so monotonous that even day and night felt the same. An eternity spent to coalesce pride and notions. An eternity lived when an unforgettable chapter was being written in human history.

I still remember that I was the last one to wake up and hence I had to satisfy whatever was left by my fellows as breakfast. I couldn’t help it because I was not like others. You know; work all day, sleep at night and then next day, repeat. No. I wanted to live life on my own terms. Even if that meant having whiskey with my friend, Patrick, at midnight after a demanding day. We’d chat about our girlfriends, politics, co-workers, and family but we never talked about our work as we believed that one should never muddle up the two ‘W’s together; work and whiskey. Whenever we broke this rule, we happened to lose one of them.

Patrick, somehow, was always successful in saving a loaf of brack for me. After having breakfast, we’d leave for the shipyard which was just a few feet away. They had prepared a tiny village of tents around the yard so that not even a second was wasted in traveling. As we would enter the main gate of the workplace, two uniformed men would be waiting to touch us. Not literally. They used to check each and every corner of our body, for the sake of security and sanity. If one passed their standards only then he was permitted to enter and was given a helmet for safety. That was the only time they were concerned about our well-being. Then, there would our flabby Conraitheoir. “Slept peacefully? Jesus, I thought we’d have completed before you come and then I would be left with no other option but to ask you to leave. But here you are, maggots.” he would say in his ever sarcastic tone. And as always, after apologizing, we’d mock him.

Then work was started. Steel from Scottish carriers was unloaded and sent for molding. The molded steel parts were then joined to their respective positions. When welders were busy welding those parts, I would find a moment to stare at them. The sparks from the welding machines seemed like stars; stars trying to exit the galaxy of flames. I was supposed to fit the rivets. While I was busy doing my work, I heard some noises from the area where welding was being done.

“Do you know what are you working on? I haven’t seen such bad welding in my career.” said the Conraitheoir to Kevin Mac Uidhir.

“I’m sorry on his behalf sir. He’s new...” Brendan came in Kevin’s defense but was stopped was Conraitheoir.

“...Even this ship is new. If anything goes wrong, I’d be the one whose reputation will suffer.” Conraitheoir told them. “Feel fortunate that you’re a part of history, otherwise people like you die without any accomplishments.”

Strange but true. No matter what the situation was but everything ended with the class issues. We all returned to our works. By 1 o’clock in the afternoon, it was lunch break. A bell was ringed and we all stood in a queue. After about twenty minutes, another bell was ringed, marking the end of the lunch break. At about 5 o’clock, our job for the day was done. We left the shipyard, handing back the helmets.

“Hey, Kevin! What’s for supper?” I asked while entering my tent.

“It’s an iontas!” he replied.

I changed my clothes. There is nothing as relieving as taking off jeans and leather boots and getting into the line. I removed the cover from my family photograph as I found it uncomfortable to change while they keep staring at me. I zipped off the tent and then went to the bonfire where everyone had gathered.

“Patrick, I’ll wake up early tomorrow,” I said with determination.

“Why? Is Saoirse coming tomorrow?” Patrick asked.

“No. I’m tired of being called maggot by that maggot,” I replied.

“You too. I thought he only called us, me and Brendan.” Kevin said and we all burst in laughter but just then, Brian said, “Oh Kevin, I thought he called you maggot with an f.”

Brian’s words changed the dynamics of the environment. We wanted to ignore him but that was too difficult. “So, how is it going between you and Saoirse?” Patrick asked me to change the topic.

“Her latest letter said that Joseph, her cousin is getting married next month,” I told him while everyone’s eyes were fixed on me because they knew that every time, I called her name I blushed so badly that it was difficult to differentiate between me and the tomatoes that Kevin was chopping.

“That’s great,” Patrick added, throwing the chopped tomatoes in the tin container in which meat and other vegetables were already boiling. After having that-we-knew-by-the-name-stew, we went to sleep.

The next day, Patrick woke me up early and I got to eat the breakfast according to my appetite, after so long. “Where’s Kevin? I wanna thank him for breakfast.” I told Patrick while stuffing bread in my mouth.

Patrick: “Sorry...aah..He’s gone.”

I: “Gone? Where?”

Patrick:“You know Brian...he caught Kevin and Brendan together...”

I: “Jesus...God, what’s wrong with that man?”

Patrick: “..Conraitheoir fired them. You know because...”

I: “Yeah, no need to say.”

While we were chatting, Brian walked in.

Brian: “What’s the craic?”

Patrick: “It was good...until you came.”

Brian: “What’s wrong?”

I: “Exactly what I wanna ask you.”

Brian: “What do you mean?”

I: “Two adults are together with consent. Who are you to mind their business?”

Brian: “Oh...So you’re bad because of that fag-”

I: “-Friends!”

Brian: “You know it is against the rules of law.”

Patrick: “Yeah, you’re the only obedient one here.”

And then, I and Patrick walked away because we didn’t want to waste our time on that mad man. We reached the shipyard where the uniformed men checked us out, as usual. Not literally, you know that. We were then given helmets and Conraitheoir asked us to stand in five rows.

He said that from that day, we needed to work more as two workers had left the job. While he was delivering his words about how lucky we were to be a part of history, Patrick and Brian were staring at each other. I can assure you that if Conraitheoir was not there, they would have punched each others’ faces. Never mind, then we started our work. The entire yard was filled with the sounds of the smashing of hammers, cutting of woods, screaming of men who were lifting the steel parts, etc. Patrick was given the duty to weld but for the first time, I was given the duty to work on the funnels. Surprisingly, the ship only needed three funnels to function properly but they decided to add a third one to add to its beauty. 

I was joined by Samuel Joseph Scott, a 15-year-old blond boy. He preferred to be called ‘Sam.’ Such an ambitious guy he was. Always optimistic. I never saw sorrow in his blue eyes. “Hi, I’m Sam. Sam, the Sailor,” he said when he first met me. Yeah, he wanted to be a sailor. Probably he would have sailed the ship he built but destiny had another plan. “Hi, I’m...well I think you should wait until a more impressive introduction comes in my mind,” I told him when he asked me about me.

We were given funnel no.2 to work on. I held one end of the ladder and Sam held the other. The ladder was then fixed to the area from where we were supposed to start the work. I climbed up the ladder, Sam followed me. “Be careful while stepping,” I told him because he was carrying a bucket of paint. We were supposed to draw some special symbols on the vessels of that special ship. I pasted the paper on which the design was printed and then started to draw the outline of the design first with the white paint that Sam was holding in a bucket. After working for about an hour, I had completed the outline and hence we had to wait for it to dry. As we climbed down the ladder, we found Conraitheoir waiting for us. He was not satisfied with the work.

“You told me that you can paint. I trusted you but you...look at that symbol. It looks so lame!” he said while his big ugly mustache danced with every word he said.

“Sorry sir but that’s probably because it’s just an outline. I haven’t painted it yet.” I replied.

Conraitheoir: “Then for what on the Earth are you waiting for?”

I: “Sir, the paint needs to be dried before we start working.”

Conraitheoir: “May I ask why?”

I: “Sure sir. Because working on wet paint can cause a mess because it results in unwanted mixing of colors. So, the outline must be dried but after that work can go on continuously as long as one's heart wants.”

 Conraitheoir: “Surely, the mess must be cleaner than you. Go and work on something else until then but make sure you do something.”

As Conraitheoir left, Sam turned to me and said, “You know, I used to work at a soap factory before I started working here.”

“No, I didn’t know about that,” I replied.

“How would you? I didn’t tell you before,” he added.

“You’re right. So, how was it?” I asked while we were heading towards the area where welding was going on.

“You know, I tried inventing a new variety of soap but was unsuccessful,” he said as we turned right to the heap of woods.

“Oh! Why? What kind of soap were you working on?” I asked.

“A special kind of soap to sanitize people’s brain,” he said pointing at the Conraitheoir who was going mad at some other workers.

After welding for a few hours where I introduced Sam to Patrick, we again headed back to funnel no.2 to paint the symbol. It was mutually decided that I would paint the upper half and Sam would pain the lower half of the symbol. Hence I climbed first and Sam followed me. We started to ink the colors on the black funnel background.

“Sam, why don’t you have supper with us tonight?” I asked him.

Sam: “Sure. What should I expect?”

I: “Maybe rice with some we-call-it-stew.”

Sam: “What’s that? Never heard of it before.”

I: “How would you? I didn’t tell you before.”

We both chuckled.

I: “We mix everything that we can find, add some water to it and then cook it for some time.”

Sam: “Sounds great...Look at the sky!”

The sky was covered in grey clouds. It seemed as if the storm was just around the corner.

I: “Jesus! Let’s stop. If it rains, it will ruin everything.”

Sam agreed.

We slowly started to step down. Slowly. A foot down. Then other. A hand down then other. Breathe in. Don’t look down. Breathe out. Don’t spill the paint. Keep the grip tight. Suddenly, it thundered but I still tried to stay composed. It was just a matter of a few seconds but the time seemed to have multiplied.

“Sam-” I was about to ask him if he was okay but when I looked down. He was not there. Winds were blowing so fast that my clothes were hitting me badly. I looked around. As I expanded my view, just a bit, I found Sam.

The 15-year old blond boy with big dreams whom I just met a few hours ago was dancing with the winds and Mother Earth was waiting for him to come down with her arms wide open to hug. Even then his face was glowing with his charming smile. Even clouds were so jealous of his smile; they started to weep in envy. Within a few seconds, he was in Mother Earth’s arms but still there was a part of him that stood high. That flew up to me to say, “This is life.”

Everyone’s work was put to a halt because everyone understood that what they just witnessed was not ordinary. How far can you run from life?

The day passed. The month passed. Calendars changed. Stars shined on trees and later faded away. Flowers bloomed and fell. Earth completed its pirouette twice. The ship took shape. Its skeleton was covered with steel muscles, tattoos of different colours were inked on its epithelial tissue and now, only make-up was left.

Everyone was mesmerized by the king of the ocean that stood high in the shipyard. It was difficult for many to believe that it was made by men. Men who worked day to night to turn a dream into reality. Many of them were credited but many are lost behind the term ‘workers.’ But you know what they say, ‘action speaks louder than words.’ Our action was standing in pride, the ship of dreams; Titanic.

After the ship was filled with furniture, it went through several tests. It passed them all and hence they starting selling tickets for its maiden voyage. I was supposed to join the same because they needed men to keep its engine working and yeah, Patrick was also accompanying me. But during the time in-between, I went to my hometown. After staying away from a place that-I-know-by-the-name-home for three years, the feeling that I was having with every second the train was heading towards Antrim was so nostalgic.

The train stopped at Antrim station and we ran to the fields around the station through the smoke that the train was emitting. The fields that were laden with barley were lower than the level of the station. We slid down the inclined plane of soil that led to the freshly watered area. We ran through the field and the muddy water painted some eerie art on our backs. Just the way we used to do when were teens. We threw our luggage and jumped into the cemented tub in which tube well was pouring water for irrigation. “Patrick, is that you?” said an old man who just came out from a shed next to the tube well.

“Athair!” replied Patrick in an emotional tone. He stood up and hugged the old man who later invited me as well to hug him. “I’m going home. Mum’s waiting for you,” he said while leaving. The old man was Mr. Kelly, Patrick’s father who owned the fields on which we were messing around.

“You must have a bathe,” Patrick told me.

I: “Why?”

Patrick: “Saoirse must be waiting for you. Gonna meet him after so long.”

“Don’t say this. It makes me feel...I don’t know? I don’t know how I would react.” I told him while every time I said a word, I looked down and blushed.

Patrick: “Ahhhh...” 

He had this habit. Every time I blushed, he would use his ‘Ahhhh’ to make me blush more.

I: ‘Now, stop it!”

Patrick: “No just imagine. You saw Saoirse, she saw you...”

As Patrick was saying everything and anything he could think of to annoy me, something got my eyes. A girl was sitting on the Oaktree.

I: “Patrick, look there. On the tree.”

Patrick: “What do you think?”

I: “It’s her.”

Patrick: “Of course, it’s her.”

The tree was special because that was where I met Saoirse for the first time. It was the only spot where she used to hide from her step-mother. It was where we had our first kiss.

I came out of the tub and slowly started to step towards the tree. Slowly. As if I was walking in a field full of land mines. I reached down the tree and lookup.

“Saor?” I called.

The girl removed the book that was blocking her face and looked down. It was her. My Saor.

As she saw me, she jumped down. She never jumped down; rather she would take her time to gradually climb down. As soon as her toes touched the earth, she wrapped me in her arms. I recognised her smell. She looked around me to check if I were fine. And then we kissed.

“Say something. It’s getting boring,” said Patrick, interrupting our beautiful moments but we didn’t care.

“Come on, there is a third person here,” he said.

“Then tell that third person to close his eyes,” I replied.

“Oh Patrick! Sorry I didn’t see you before.” Saoirse told him, putting the book in her bag.

“Why would you see me?” Patrick said while mocking us.

I: “Free tonight?”

Saoirse: “For you? Every time but that lady wouldn’t let me out.”

Patrick: “Don’t worry. He’s great at handling her.”

I: “Of course. I missed her...well not more than you, Saor.”

When we reached near the water tank, we changed our ways because Saoirse and Patrick’ home were in different directions. After about five minute of walk and ten minutes on a bullock cart, we reached Patrick’s house. Boxty and stew was served with lots of chats and love. Patrick’s mother was overwhelmed to see her son. And me as well, after all, she was my maternal aunt.

“You would stay now?” she asked.

“Well, until we are not called,” Patrick replied.

“Is it necessary?” she asked me. I knew she never wanted us to leave, at least not alone. She knew that we both needed each other.

“We’d go to America, mum. America!” Patrick replied.

After having supper while everyone went to bed, I and Patrick went to Saoirse’s home. I knocked and the door was opened.

“Oh! So you’re back.” the lady said. I gave her a crooked smile. “Three years were so peaceful.”

I: “Same here, ma’am but Saoirse was not there.”

She: “Why can’t you call me Mrs. Byrne?”

I: “Well, because she is dead. Saoirse’s mum. You were her father’s....Never mind.”

She: “That’s why I hate you.”

I: “That’s why I hate you too.”

She: “Then what do you want?”

I: “I’m here for my love, Saor.”

She: “And why should I let you in?”

“Who is it?” called a voice.

“Because of him, my good mother,” I replied sarcastically. The voice was of Mr. Byrne, Saoirse’s father.

“Greetings uncle!” I said.

Mr. Byrne: “What a surprise! How are you?”

I: “I’m great and you?”

Mr. Byrne: “Just a bit older since met last met.”

Patrick: “Why everyone forgets me?”

Mr. Byrne: “Forgetting and forgiving are the most difficult deals in the world, dear.”

I: “Saoirse?”

Mr. Byrne: “Yeah, she’s upstairs.”

Patrick: “Thanks Uncle.”

Mr. Byrne: “No Patrick, you stay here.”

I left them and went upstairs where Saor was waiting for me. “Told you!” I said.

“I always believed you,” she replied. “Look what I have made for you,” she added, handing me a knitting needles.

“Knitting needles? You made ‘em?” I asked in shock.

“Yeah, I made you an idea. While I’d not be here, you may learn knitting and send me sweaters that you’d make,” she replied.

I: “Not be here? Where are you going?”

Saoirse: “No one knows about that place better than you.”

I: “My heart?”

Saoirse: “You are so hopelessly romantic!”

I: “Then where are you going?”

Saoirse: “Titanic! I’m going to Titanic's maiden voyage.”

I: “What? How?”

Saoirse: “You know my friend, Margaret?”

I: “Who?”

Saoirse: “You remember Mr. McCarthy?”

I: “Yeah, your mum used to work at his house before she...”

Saoirse: “Yeah. Her daughter became my friend. She’s pregnant and she wants me to accompany her. You know, it would be better for her and her child.”

I: “And us.”

Saoirse: “Us? How?”

I: “I’m also going on the journey for work.”

Saoirse: “Jesus! Why didn’t you tell me before?”

I was shocked. So did she. From next day, things started to go as they used to be. Patrick and I started to help his father at fields and hang out with our friends. Saoirse and I also started to plan about how we could sneak out from our works and meet secretly on the ship. Packing was starting and guests came to wish us. Saoirse left a day earlier than us with her friend in her car and next day, I left in a train with Patrick.

The dock was full of people that day. I can vividly recall everything. Men, women, children, aged from every class were there. From expensive formals to worn out casuals. And remember how we were touched by two uniformed men for the sake of sanity and security, the same was happening with the passengers. Of course, the first-class passengers were given a lot of liberty but third-class passengers; I remember how they were seen as a threat by the former ones. All they cared about was money. You have money, you have their respect.

We went to the stern of the ship where we starting tossing coals into the burners which ran the steam engines. Finally after half an hour of hard work, the engines started and the ship started its journey. There was wave joy in the stern and I assume the same was on the deck as well but the only difference was that for them, enjoyment started with the journey and for us, work started with the journey. The stern was over-heated and when the captain ordered to speed up, it started to burn down there. I remember we were bathing in sweat but who cared. Even the drinking water started to boil off. Finally, when our shift was over, we got to have food but we were not allowed to leave the stern. Though my body felt relaxed during that time but my brain was anxious. I knew Saoirse was waiting for me. I wanted to be with her. Patrick advised that night time would be perfect to sneak out. I agreed. So, we decided that we would leave the stern at night once our shift was over.

“I leave means I leave. I’m not getting down here again.” Patrick said. I thought he was joking but after working for another shift, I took him seriously. We were going to leave. We had no plans. But we were determined that we were going to enjoy the journey instead of working in that hell. We made that ship, we deserved to rule it. 

"We must change our clothes before we leave," I told Patrick.