Published By ... Although time puts distance between historical events and subsequent generations’ memory of them, some withstand the test of time. The April 14, 1912 loss of the ocean liner “Titanic” after colliding with an iceberg, five generations later is probably remembered by more people than who heard about it at the time. 

While not representative of the greatest loss of life at sea, Titanic still captures our imagination as evidenced by its countless media portrayals. But as we mark the 100th anniversary of the most well known maritime tragedy in history, one wonders to what extent fate made the event’s final outcome unavoidable.

Titanic was commanded by Captain Edward John Smith. A well respected officer, he became known as the “Millionaires’ Captain” as England’s wealthy passengers insisted only traveling on ships under his command. 

Ironically, two incidents of seamanship by Smith—one prior to taking command of Titanic and one after—ultimately sealed Titanic’s fate. The former was an act of poor seamanship which caused delays in Titanic’s construction; the latter an act of good seamanship which failed to delay her departure—the combination of both events together ensuring Titanic’s date with destiny.

To understand the role fate would play in Titanic’s only voyage, one must first understand the origin and journey of the iceberg she encountered.

Icebergs in the North Atlantic usually originate from the fjords of Greenland’s western coasts. Breaking free of glacier walls, they are delivered by strong currents to the Arctic Ocean, where the melting process begins. If an iceberg is big enough, it can survive the three year journey it takes to reach the North Atlantic.

It is believed the iceberg Titanic struck was a “mega” berg—at birth over a kilometer long and displacing around a billion tons of sea water. It probably broke free of its glacier wall about the same time construction began on Titanic in Belfast, Ireland, in 1909.

Eventually entering the warmer and faster Gulf Stream, the iceberg rode the current in a south-westerly direction. 

Only one percent of all icebergs from the Arctic Ocean eventually reach such a southern latitude. Doing so in this case positioned it directly in Titanic’s path.

In early 1911, due to Captain Smith’s experienced seamanship, he was given command of the lead ship of a new class of White Star Line ocean liner—the “Olympic”—which was then the largest vessel in the world. In September 1911, with Smith on her bridge, Olympic collided with the British warship “Hawke.” 

The collision flooded two of Olympic’s compartments and twisted one of her propeller shafts. A Navy Board of Inquiry held Olympic responsible for the collision, claiming her massive size created suction that pulled Hawke into the ocean liner’s side.

Olympic limped back to Belfast for repairs. Her downtime was a financial catastrophe for White Star. 

The ship had to be put back into service as quickly as possible. To do so, the shipyard repair facility—Harland and Wolff—which was also building Titanic, pulled parts from Titanic to make repairs to Olympic. Olympic was returned to service in February 1912, only to lose a propeller blade. She again returned to Belfast, and again Titanic was stripped of needed parts to conduct emergency repairs. 

Olympic’s repairs ultimately delayed Titanic’s maiden voyage from March 20 to April 10, 1912. With each day’s delay of Titanic’s maiden voyage, the mega-berg transited further south.

Departing at noon on April 10, amongst much fanfare, Titanic pulled away from her pier in Southampton, England, to begin her maiden voyage to New York City. Almost immediately, a problem was encountered similar to that Smith experienced onboard Olympic when it collided with Hawke. 

Passing another ship—the “New York”—which was tied to her moorings, Titanic’s suction caused her to break loose and swing toward Titanic. Captain Smith was again on the bridge, only this time his quick action prevented a collision and further delay—allowing Titanic to sail on into history. 

Titanic’s speed was increased each succeeding day of the voyage. On the evening of April 14th, Smith attended a dinner party in his honor. He left early to go to the bridge. 

Despite having received warnings of an unusually high number of icebergs in the area, he made no effort to reduce Titanic’s speed, perhaps seeking to cross the Atlantic in record time. Departing the bridge, Smith went to bed.

Although the sea was exceedingly calm, there was virtually no moon visible. Due to a mix-up in Southampton, the two lookouts in Titanic’s crow’s nest were without binoculars. Just before 11:40 pm, one saw a large shadow looming on the horizon. 

As critical seconds slipped by, Titanic continued to close range with it at almost maximum speed. Finally realizing he was seeing the silhouette of an iceberg, the lookout immediately notified the bridge. The officer in charge gave the command to change course and reverse engines. But the world’s largest ship was slow to respond.   

It soon became clear while Titanic would not hit the iceberg head-on, she would graze it. As the iceberg scraped by, it was initially believed the ship had escaped significant damage. Only later, as she was inspected was the seriousness of damage determined. 

Ironically, by avoiding a head on collision, more damage was done as the iceberg’s rugged edge ripped Titanic open on her starboard side just under the waterline like a can opener would an aluminum can. Of her sixteen compartments, five were flooding. Titanic had been designed to withstand the flooding of only four.

Smith was awakened by the collision at 11:40 pm. Rushing to the bridge, he soon realized his ship was doomed. 

At a time his experience as a seasoned mariner should have kicked in, however, he became indecisive. Finally pressed for a decision, he gave the order to abandon ship. As the crew carried out the command, Smith made no effort to save himself. Along with over 1500 passengers, he remained on Titanic as she slipped beneath the waves. 

Not known then but understood now were the meteorological conditions giving rise to the high number of icebergs in the area. In 

January 1912, for the first time in 1400 years, the moon came closer to Earth than ever before—at the same time Earth was making its closest annual approach to the sun. This created exceptionally high tides ushering more icebergs into the shipping lanes than usual by the April time-frame.

The courses transited by Titanic and the iceberg—which three years earlier would have seemed impossible to intersect—intersected, sending an ocean liner deemed “unsinkable” to the bottom of the Atlantic. 

Less than three weeks later, it is estimated, the mega-berg that sank her had melted, forever disappearing into the waters that would hide Titanic for almost three quarters of a century.

Looking back at Titanic’s journey, one senses so much opportunity existed for this tragedy to have been avoided. 

What if Olympic had avoided its collision with Hawke? 

What if Titanic had collided with the New York City while departing Southampton?

What if Smith had reduced Titanic’s speed after being warned about icebergs? 

What if the meteorological conditions had not been so unique? 

What if Titanic had struck the iceberg head on rather than scraping along its side? 

What if the lookouts had been equipped with binoculars? 

What if only four compartments had flooded? 

What if? ... What if? ... What? ...

Obviously nothing could have been done to alter the course nature had set for the iceberg, but so many opportunities for human action to alter Titanic’s course, preventing disaster, were never undertaken. As a result of this, a ship—no one today otherwise would remember—will be, unfortunately for the wrong reason, long remembered.  

This landmark anniversary of Titanic’s fateful voyage lends itself to an interesting comparison to a voyage upon which America’s “ship of state” is now embarked. We are navigating the most dangerous waters of our 235 year history. We are encountering domestic and foreign policy “icebergs” heading into the path of our ship’s course.  

For an America many today see to be on the decline, what will happen? What will historians, five generations from now, have to say about the course we navigated? 

Will they too see opportunities lost in which we could have acted to avoid the fate that befell us, but failed to do so? Will they too wonder about the “what ifs?” 

What if Americans had united once again behind the core values that once made them a great nation? 

What if politicians had put the common interests of the people ahead of their party interests? 

What if Americans had used their power as a people with assimilated interests as opposed to a people promoting their own special interests? 

What if Americans had looked less to their government for entitlements and more to their own industry and creativity? 

What if the traits of selflessness and courage of the generation of leaders who gave birth to the land of opportunity had been inherited by the 21st century generation of leaders who followed? 

What if? ... What if? ... What if? ...

A century from now, will America—like Titanic today—only be remembered as a great tragedy in which fate played out because those who could act failed to do so? 

Will history show Titanic and America’s symbolic ship of state were like “two ships passing in the night,” each destined, by fate, to strike its own iceberg?