Spirit of the Titanic Read Online Free PDF Page A

and the night. Down in the belly of the ship the fires that kept the engines going were kept burning by the stokers and greasers, who worked in shifts and were permanently covered in soot. There wasn’t a lot to see, but it did remind me of working at the shipyard and hanging out with Charlie and the squad. Most of these men slept in small dormitories in third class, well away from the sensitivities of the richer passengers. I overheard two of them talking as they made their way back to their room, having shovelled coal for eight hours. They were filthy and their faces were shiny with a grimy sweat.
    â€œSo, you think we’ve the worst job on the ship?”
    â€œYep.”
    â€œBut we also have the most important?”
    â€œShe’d still be sitting on her backside in Belfast if it wasn’t for us.”
    â€œHmm, that’s a fair point.”
    One of my favourite places was the third-class common room. It was nearly always full, crammed with all types of people who determined to enjoy themselves on such a beautiful ship. This was just the first part of their adventure. The real work began when they arrived in America and had to find themselves jobs and accommodations. A mixture of accents could be heard throughout: German, Italian, French, Swedish, and, of course, English. In the evening, just like in first and second class, there was music provided by a few musicians, who, unlike the band in first and second class, made a point of beckoning onstage anyone who cared to perform in whatever manner they could. Consequently, rowdy dancing and much singing was the norm after dinner, especially among the young single men and women.
    There were many children too as third class was mostly made up of people, like Jim and Isobel, who were emigrating to America with their entire families, in search of a new life. Jim was rather like my mother, in that he didn’t overtly push himself to get to know strangers; Isobel reminded me of my father, who had always considered strangers to be friends he hadn’t made yet.
    On the first afternoon, after we left Queenstown, while her husband refereed a slow, stumbling game of soccer for Joseph and some boys his age, Isobel shyly introduced herself to two girls who had joined the ship in Cork and had been giving the sleeping Sarah the fondest of smiles.
    â€œShe’s beautiful. How old is she?” It was the older of the two, a friendly looking girl with thick brown hair that matched the colour of her eyes.
    A beaming Isobel replied proudly, “Fourteen months today. That’s her brother over there, Joseph; he’s six years old and the man doing his best to keep all the boys in line is my husband, Jim. I’m Isobel, by the way. And you two, if you don’t mind me saying so, must be sisters. You’re the image of one another.”
    The girls laughed.
    â€œYes, I’m Maggie and this is my little sister Kate.”
    Isobel was delighted. “I was right! So, you’re heading to America in search of fame and fortune … or maybe a rich husband?”
    The two sisters giggled and looked at one another, raising their eyebrows. A nod passed between them and Kate spoke, glancing around as if she was about to betray a promise of some sort. “Well, the truth of it is, we sort of ran away from home.”
    Isobel’s eyes widened. “Whatever do you mean?”
    Maggie, the older girl, decided to take over. “We’re here with some neighbours from Longford. When they were buying their tickets, we asked them to get two for us, in secret. Then we told them, at home, that we were only going to Queenstown, to see our friends off. Since we had to leave so early yesterday morning, nobody was up in time to see us bringing our bags with us. All we had to do, then, was board the ship.”
    Isobel looked from one to the other. “But won’t your parents worry?”
    â€œNo. Well, not really. We’re actually going over