Marjorie Robb and the Sinking of the Titanic

The ship sailed from Southhampton, and as you know, it was supposed to be an unsinkable boat and everybody believed it. There were very distinguished people on that ship, such as John Jacob Astor, Mr. and Mrs. Guggenheim of New York, and Mr. and Mrs. Straus of New York. 1 I remember especially of seeing John Jacob Astor strolling about, but of the others, I don't remember much.

We started out and went a few days on the sea, and after two days, the fog settled in, and people were very much concerned about it. They realized that we were in the – almost surrounded by icebergs. But the captain, Smith, an Englishman, wanted to make the record, and get to there in a very short period of time, which no other boat had ever succeeded in doing.

So we sat, as I say, after a beautiful, sumptuous dinner. After looking about in the beautiful rooms, one after the other, very beautifully furnished, distinguished people, beautifully dressed, we sat there and said, I remember the last thing my father said to me in fact, "Do you think you will last until morning, after such a tremendous meal?" as you might say.

My sister and I, who I was with beside my father, went to our cabins, and about one o'clock, we felt this terrific jar, this terrific noise. What could it be? Here we were in this little ship, never imagining we were in such terrible danger. Almost immediately, my father tapped on the door and said, "Get up quickly. Don't take anything with you, but put on more clothing." So we obeyed him, as we were told to do in those days, "Obey your Father and Mother," and went upstairs, up to the upper deck, which was then, well, you might say almost empty, because most people were still asleep resting in their cabins.

Already there was one boat that had been launched, and already by the time we got up there, this tremendous, great big, unsinkable Titanic was listing on one side. So the second boat was about to be filled and I was to be in the second boat with my sister. It was filled rather readily – all women, of course – people perhaps about middle age and a bit older. The last thing I remember my father saying to me, "It seems more dangerous if you were to get into that boat. I'd hate to see you go in, than to stay here on the Titanic."

We got in and lowered the boat into the water, which was, as you know, the deck boats are very high up on the ship, they're very high up at the very top, and it was frightful seeing to look way down at the bottom thinking we were to be lowered there.

Most people in that boat were women, as I say, of middle-age. They were so stunned that they couldn't talk, they couldn't say anything, they couldn't move. So it was up to me, the only younger person there at that time (and I have to say I was 23 at that time) to take over the oars and help the oarsmen (there was just one man to help row that boat), which I did. I'd never rowed a boat before in my life, which was quite a challenge, you might say, for me to do. But we were lowered and immediately we were told the one thing to do is to get away from the ship as fast as we can. So we rowed and we were quite a distance off, because in the meantime, the lights were growing dimmer, because we were farther away from the Titanic.

And at last we were saying, "Oh, this is perhaps the safest place to be. We've gone far enough." So in case of danger (we couldn't believe that the ship would really sink), we wouldn't be sucked down anyway. So we were sort of stopping, "coming to" a little bit, as you might say. And occasionally we would see, in the far distance, we'd see the light of another ship. Because at that time, by the time we had gotten out to some distance, I'll perhaps say one mile, two miles (I never could tell just how far away we were), there'd be an occasional ship come along and we'd say, "Oh there comes a ship, maybe they'll come to our rescue and help us." They didn't. They didn't dare to get near the Titanic.

There were few people, some of them struggling in the water. There were few boats, especially as we were being rowed here and there, nobody talking. The cold. It was very cold. And there we stayed, I would say, well, almost until dawn came. Occasionally, rockets would go out of the Titanic, trying to make the other ships see them in case they were passing. Nobody did come near us.

And then the terrible moment came. The ship sank. I'll never forget (even it was so vivid in my ears and in my sister's ears) the noise, the terrible noise when it really went down [unintelligible] with all the people in it and hear the people who were at a distance. Couldn't do a thing.

Dawn came, and when it did, we realized how almost surrounded we were with icebergs. But that captain had to make the record, even though many people lost their lives.

So dawn came and everything was very quiet. The ship had gone. It was a lovely morning, but where were we? But that Carpathia, in the middle of the night, came along and that was the moment of safety. It stood by. So we were rowed to the Carpathia.

And my sister and I were thinking, of course, we'd see our father, because we didn't realize the terrible disaster in which the people that had lost their lives. And I remember, it was almost like a funeral, as we came up the side of the ship – the steps – to come and not see our father [unintelligible] was almost no men at all, and if there was a man, he was a disgrace.

We came up, and, of course, we didn't see our father. The ship was loaded because it was on the way to London, heavily filled with tourists. People had to sleep on the floor, wherever they could go. It didn't make any difference where they were sleeping after that terrible disaster. We were speechless. Nobody talked.

I can't remember very much. I don't think we were there more than two days. And I don't really remember about the meals. I don't remember particularly talking with people. I can't remember anything about that.

Curator's note: This account is an excerpt from the longer version held in the archives of the Westport Historical Society.