Passing the Torch

NOTE: I own nothing. The character of Owen Morgan belongs to Four Funnels Entertainment. The rest of the characters are all part of history.

Passing the Torch

1 June 1936
New York Harbor, Morning

Captain Joseph Boxhall gazed out the bridge windows of R.M.S. Titanic. They'd played hell getting some tugs to get the old girl free of her berth this morning, what with all the excitement that seemed to be gripping the harbor. But now Titanic was slowly making her way down the Hudson, on her way back to Southampton.

On her way back home to die.

Boxhall walked out onto the port bridge wing and glanced back at the Cunard White Star piers. He knew this would be the last time he'd ever see those structures from the bridge of this ship. Titanic was due to be laid up upon arrival in Southampton, and once all passengers and victualing crew had been offloaded, she'd be transferred to Berth 108, the same space Olympic had occupied up until last October before sailing for Jarrow and eternity.

He sighed. All of Titanic's original officers  were Captains in their own right now, but only he and Lightoller were still with the company today. Captain Smith had retired in 1920, having taken Britannic over one last time on her maiden peacetime voyage. He'd passed away in August 1932. Lightoller had Britannic now; he had quite a following on the Atlantic, just like Captain Smith once had, although Lights had never really liked dealing with passengers himself. As he'd once said, it was the honor of serving the company, and to hell with the pay.

Boxhall was roused from his thoughts by the appearance of his special guest.

"Thank you for allowing me on the bridge, Captain," 1st Class passenger Owen Morgan greeted Boxhall. "I'm honored." Morgan had been aboard for the ship's maiden voyage, and had actually exposed two other passengers on that voyage as being the perpetrators of a series of international crimes. He later wrote several novels on his experiences, but his first, a fictional account of his adventure aboard the Titanic, was still his best-selling work. It had also proved quite lucrative for the White Star Line as well, for people flocked to travel aboard the two Olympic-class ships in the years leading up to the Great War, and again throughout the 1920s.

Boxhall allowed a slight smile to appear on his face. "It's no trouble, Mr. Morgan...you're the only passenger aboard who was on this ship's maiden voyage; I thought you should be granted a special privilege since you're on board for her final voyage."

"It's the end of an era," Morgan mused.

Boxhall nodded. "I was on her maiden voyage as well." He sighed. "I've come a long way since I was her Fourth Officer."

Behind him, his Chief Officer cleared his throat, causing Boxhall to turn.

"Yes, Mr. Richmond?"

"All tugs away except the pilot's, sir," Chief Officer Henry Richmond reported, "and the pilot should be disembarking shortly."

"Thank you," Boxhall responded, before smiling sadly. "Like Mr. Morgan just said, it's the end of an era."

"Indeed, sir," Richmond replied. "But she's had twenty-four safe and reliable years."

Boxhall nodded in agreement. "There are greater ships to carry on her work...she's earned her rest."

As the Captain stated this, a loud horn boomed across the harbor, followed faintly by the sirens of numerous smaller vessels. Boxhall, went onto the starboard bridge wing, Richmond and Morgan following, and beheld the sight of Cunard White Star's new flagship Queen Mary arriving on her maiden voyage. Boxhall sighed, remembering another rousing welcome on a Wednesday morning in April 1912, before returning to the task at hand. They weren't a part of this one; time to get on with their work.

"All right, Mr. Richmond," he stated. "Let's take her home."

Titanic sailed past the new British flagship, and the two oceangoing giants briefly saluted one another with their whistles. Then the Queen proceeded upriver to her berth...and the legend steamed off to eternity.