Category: Birth Locations

The business name Cunard Line doesn't mean as much to most people today as it did one hundred years ago.

Before the invention of airplanes, and later planes big enough to carry passengers across the world, people would have to travel by oceanliner.

The very word oceanliner has lost meaning in the modern landscape. Today, if you asked a random selection of people on the street what the difference is between an oceanliner and a cruise ship is, the response you would receive is probably first, "What's an oceanliner?" and second, "Isn't that just a cruise ship?"

(For those curious, an oceanliner is a ship built specifically for the purpose of ferrying passengers back and forth across oceans--ships like Titanic, Olympic, Queen Mary, and so on), while a cruise ship is a vessel meant specifically to take people on vacations and for pleasure. It doesn't seem like that big of a difference today but I promise it is.

Anyways! I digress--unfortunately I was not able to physically stop at Cunard's Pier 54 while in New York City (part of the famed Chelsea Piers), but we did pass it on a bus tour and our guide casually mentioned, "By the way, that's the pier that Carpathia unloaded Titanic's passengers on, and three years later that Lusitania took off from on her fatal voyage."

Other than my fiancé and I, nobody else in our group seemed phased by the casualness of our guide's comments. Meanwhile I'm sitting in the back of the bus, openly gaping and scrambling to get this photo!

Returning visitors to this site, and those who know me in person, know how much I am personally invested in the story of Titanic. I am also sure everyone knows the Titanic story by now as well, but once again, for those who don't, I'll give a quick summary.

In April of 1912, The White Star Line, one of the largest oceanliner companies in the world, launched their latest, most fabulous, and technically largest ship in the world, RMS Titanic. RMS stands for Royal Mail Ship--and one of Titanic's primary duties was to carry bags and bags of mail from the UK to the US and back.

Also happening at the time was a massive coal strike. Oceanliners of the day relied on coal in order to power their steam engines. With not enough coal to go around, and Titanic underbooked for her maiden voyage, White Star Line made the decision to move what coal they did have from other ships, onto the Titanic in order to power her first trip across the sea. At the same time, White Star Line "upgraded" numerous passengers set to sail on those other vessels that had just been stripped of their coal supplies.

On the night of April 14th, 1912, Titanic was steaming across an ice cold Atlantic ocean. Her captain, J Edward Smith, had been warned numerous times of ice flows in the area, but elected to ignore the warnings and continued to speed on--at least one other ship in the area, the Californian, had elected to shut down her engines and wait for daylight out of an abundance of caution.

At around 11 PM, disaster struck. In the blackness of night, Titanic's two lookouts spotted an iceberg "Dead Ahead." They immediately rang down to the bridge to warn of the danger. The crew (which did not include Captain Smith, as he had already gone to bed for the night), made the decision to try to steer the ship out of the way of the iceberg.

(Ironically, studies have now proven that had the Titanic hit the iceberg head on, she would have sustained severe structural damage, but she would not have sunk. To watch a video on that analysis and to support one of my favorite YouTube channels click here.)

Within minutes of the lookout spotting the iceberg, Titanic would graze the berg on her starboard side, ripping open five of her watertight compartments. Had only four been breached, she also might not have sunk. Another quick fact! Most people think the iceberg ripped open one giant gash that allowed water to enter the ship--when in actuality it was a series of punctures ranging from small to large. Can you tell I'm a Titanic nerd?

On the night of the 14th, Titanic had around 2,200 souls on board (the approximate number can never be known for certain). Three hours after the iceberg struck the ship, Titanic would snap in half from the sheer weight of the water rushing into the bow section, and within minutes would sink under the waves, just after 2 AM on the 15th. The Californian, and one other mystery ship, were nearby--but neither had wireless operators awake and able to receive Titanic's distress signals. The closest ship who did hear the distress signals was Cunard Line's Carpathia, captained by Arthur Rostron. 

Captain Rostron had made full steam ahead, or as close to it as he could manage while keeping his own crew and passengers safe through the dangerous ice flows, and arrived at the scene on the morning of the 15th. He had believed that when he arrived, Titanic would still be afloat but heavily damaged, and that he would be assisting passengers move to his ship to continue the trip to New York.

Instead, what he found was very different. As I mentioned, Titanic was long gone. Not only that, but over 1,500 of her passengers and crew had also perished. Captain Rostron's Carpathia arrived in the midst of Titanic's lifeboats, with 705 survivors freezing inside them.

Carpathia had been heading in the opposite direction, taking her passengers and cargo to Italy, but after rescuing the Titanic survivors, they changed course and headed to New York as quickly as possible. Carpathia was not equipped to hold so many people, but the passengers and crew did everything possible to help the survivors--including sharing food, clothes, and in some cases even giving up their own cabins.

On April 18th, Carpathia steamed into New York, arriving at the very pier I photographed above, delivering all of the Titanic survivors to the place they had headed out for only a few days before, but their lives had changed forever. 40,000 people waited at the pier to meet them, everyone from EMS workers to journalists, to anxious family members praying that their loved ones would walk down the gangplank.

Just over three years later, in May 1915, the Cunard liner Lusitania--noted for its considerable speed and luxury, was leaving from the same pier in New York that Carpathia had delivered Titanic's survivors in April 1912.

By May 1915, World War I was in full swing in Europe, and the German government was operating U-Boats in the water around the United Kingdom. The Lusitania was leaving New York to head for Ireland, knowing full well that they were heading into dangerous waters. The passengers, some of whom were some of society's most wealthy, and some of whom were immigrants returning to Europe because of the war, traveled knowing full well of the danger. There were 1,959 souls on board.

Unfortunately for those on board Lusitania, their captain, William Thomas Turner, elected to ignore the British Admiralty's warnings of the danger. He was told to be especially careful in the water around Ireland and also to travel across the ocean in a zigzag pattern--which would slow them down but also make it harder for the U-Boats to torpedo them. Apparently Captain Turner decided he knew better than the Admiralty and did neither of the recommendations.

Everything was going fine until May 7th. On that morning, the Lusitania was within sight of the Irish coast when disaster struck. A torpedo hit the Lusitania, and twenty minutes later she sunk beneath the waves, taking 1,198 souls with her.

Two disasters, separated by three years and costing the lives of around 3,400 people, connected by a simple pier in New York City. All of that hit me hard as I looked at the rusty metal sign--and then a few seconds later, it was out of sight as we continued to drive on to our next stop.

While doing research for this section of the blog, I found an article all about the "Curse of Pier 54" and how, while Lusitania and Titanic were the most well known disasters linked to the pier, they were not the only ones. Evidently Lusitania's sister ship Mauretania stuck the pier on two separate occasions, in 1907 and 1925. Then in 1932, a fire broke out causing devastating results:

"More than 700 firemen became involved in fighting the flames, battling for hours until it became clear that the US$2-million structure was doomed. More than US$100,000 worth of cargo turned to ash, but there was a higher cost to bear. Not all attending firemen survived, dozens were injured and nearby buildings were destroyed. As the sun set that day, Pier 54’s flaring wreckage collapsed into the Hudson River, having claimed further souls."

(From "Pier 54, Cunard's Cursed New York Base" article linked below)

The pier's building was reconstructed following the fire, opening in July 1933. In 1991, with the collapse of the oceanliner industry, the building was leveled--leaving a blank concrete slate behind. Then in 2015, what was left of the pier was obliterated to make way for an art installation. Today, all that remains is the rusty steel sign I was able to photograph from my tour bus.