While much has been written about the unsinkable Titanic, less is said about the object that eventually did sink the iconic ship on her maiden voyage

According to a report in a 2012 issue of Wired magazine, the only known photo of the iceberg that caused the buoyancy of the Titanic to become untenable, was taken on the morning of April 15, 1912, by “the chief steward of the German ocean liner SS Prinz Adalbert.”

The only reason the iceberg seemed noteworthy was that it was a time of year when icebergs wouldn’t normally be seen that far south, and there was a streak of red paint visible along the waterline.

Some of the science done around the history of this particular iceberg is speculative, but what’s known is that the snow that formed it fell on Greenland over 3000 years ago.  For three millennia, the frozen mass was part of the ice sheet that covers most of that northern country, but then it’s estimated that this iceberg calved as one of the thousands that break free every year.  

Less than 1 per cent ever make it to the Atlantic to be seen along the shores of Newfoundland and Labrador.

Climate scientists estimate that the Titanic iceberg would have broken away sometime around the spring of 1910, eternally unaware of its fate. 

It survived the impact with the great ship, however by the Spring of 1913, it too disappeared into the waters of the Atlantic Ocean.

The berg did survive in the form of a photo and in 2015 as part of larger auction of Titanic memorabilia. That picture sold at auction for $40,000.  

TITANIC FACTS

Breaking the Ice

The movie cost was more than the actual ship!

The ship cost was $7.5 million when it was built (1910-1912). 

In 1997 dollars (when the movie was made), that cost comes close to $120 to $150 million. And the movie was filmed and made for a whopping $200 million!

A Captain’s Last Words

Last words of Edward Smith, captain of the ship, “Well boys, you’ve done your duty and done it well. I ask no more of you. I release you. You know the rule of the sea. It’s every man for himself now, and God bless you.”

Captain Smith also died along with 1516 passengers and crew members

A small coastal town in British Columbia suffered a powerful loss when The Titanic sank to the bottom of the sea, taking hopes and dreams with it

If anyone from this province happened to find themselves in the coastal city of Prince Rupert in British Columbia, they would no doubt feel at home. “Rupert,” as locals call it, is a place defined by its links to the sea for fishing and recreation. It wears its badge as the 4th rainiest place on the planet with pride.

The city itself is on an island and residents have to take a ferry to the airport located on another nearby island. In fact, quite a few Newfoundlanders have relocated to Prince Rupert and call the place home. This evergreen place of trees and ocean was settled for thousands of years by the Tsimshian people of the coastal mountains. Its harbour was safe and deep, the area rich in natural resources.  

When the Europeans started to arrive in the 1820s, they saw potential and trading with local First Nations was robust for several decades. The fishery drove the economy with fish plants and cannery operations dotting the north coast.

Grand Trunk Railway

By 1910, establishment of Prince Rupert as an important western port was well underway.  The Grand Trunk Railway preferred the location as it was (and still is) two days closer to China than anywhere else on the western seaboard. 

One of the early proponents to make Prince Rupert  the preeminent port for the west was Charles Hays. Hays was president of the Grand Trunk Railway and under his leadership, the railway opened and developed many western towns across the turn of the 20th century.

He envisioned Rupert as a “made-to-order” town, elegantly planned and ready for an influx of new residents.  Hays aggressively forged ahead with plans to build a second railway in Canada connecting Winnipeg to Prince Rupert.  He lobbied the Canadian government for subsidies, relentlessly courted bankers and financiers in New York and London to get on board with his grand dream. He even had plans drawn up to build a twin hotel of the Empress, the iconic building in BC’s capital of Victoria.

As the project gained steam, it also lost momentum. Workers demanded wages equivalent to their American counterparts, and supplies chains were getting harder to maintain and more expensive.  Hays himself was relentless in demanding the highest standards as he had boundless confidence he could raise whatever capital was necessary to see his plan through.

In the spring of 1912, Hays travelled to London, England, to once again sell his vision.  Cabinet members in Ottawa were growing weary of his demands, so finding new sources of capital was key to completing the route to the north coast.  While in London he received word that his daughter, Louise, was having a difficult pregnancy. He was also keen to return as he also had an invite to the gala opening of the Chateau Laurier, scheduled for April 25.  

Bruce Ismay, chairman of the White Star Line, invited Hays to join him on a transatlantic crossing to discuss business.  Hays was initially reluctant, as he ironically objected to the rapid expansion by steamship lines to win passengers with ever-faster vessels. 

Hays is reported to have said, “The time will come when this trend will be checked by some appalling disaster.”

Whether or not that is true may never be confirmed as Hays boarded the new vessel, RMS Titanic on April 11, 1912. Hays brought along his wife, Clara, another daughter and son-in-law, his personal secretary and a maid. They all shared a deluxe suite on the Bridge Deck.  

When disaster struck just before midnight on the evening of April 14, Hays escorted his wife, daughter and maid into a lifeboat.  Hays, his son-in-law, and secretary all remained behind and perished at sea.  

Even though Charles Hays was celebrated as one of North America’s greatest railwaymen, just a few years later, his plans for a great western port at Prince Rupert also met their demise.  The GTR tried to carry on with his policies but Hays had deceived investors with guarantees he did not have.  The government of Canada seized Grand Trunk assets and the focus of railway building shifted away from northern British Columbia.

The good old days

The Titanic disaster has always had a special place for many who live near the Atlantic. The ship’s potential has consumed many in much the same way that Hays himself was consumed by his dream.  But for one community nestled in a coastal rain forest, The Titanic still casts a shadow.  In 1964, journalist Allan Fotheringham wrote, “In Prince Rupert, they still talk of the sinking of the Titanic as if it was a local shipwreck.”

Prince Rupert is the stuff of dreams that almost were. A place where people still talk of the good old days of the fishing industry. Fishermen and captains would roll into local bars and shops with fistfuls of hundred dollar bills. A modern port for the 21st century starting construction but 20 years on, the city still struggles to get itself on the global shipping map. Cruise ship visits aren’t as frequent, out-migration is still a problem, and many point to closed businesses and lament what “used to be there.”

Up and down the coast of BC, the landscape is dotted with communities that “used to be there.” You see a few remnants of the vibrant places that once bustled with a busy trade in salmon.  As business dried up, residents simply moved on. Like the bones of a sunken ship, the bones of houses and wharves lay in wait for nature to reclaim.

However, Prince Rupert perseveres.  It still peaks out of the rain, drizzle and fog to proclaim, “we are still here.” 

You can always spot the tourist in Prince Rupert because they are the ones carrying an umbrella. If the weather isn’t, you can count on locals to be eternally sunny.  One day, their ship will come in.  Even it wasn’t to be The Titanic.

The night of March 14, 2009, Great Big Sea fans passed through the turnstiles of the, then, Mile One Centre in downtown St. John’s, all expecting a typical GBS show; songs, sing-alongs, dancing and more. 

Before the show was set to begin, a sombre Séan McCann took to the stage with his bandmates and dampened down the applause.

“Good evening, brothers and sisters,” McCann hesitantly began. “For over 500 years, we as Newfoundlanders, have taken from the sea … and just two days ago, she took back.”

Fortune’s Favour

Dedicating a performance to the lost 17 of Cougar 491, the group sang England, from their album, Fortune’s Favour. The lyrics took on a different poignancy as they sang,

“Far from our native soil

To chase a wish and to hunt the Fish.

And on the rocks to toil

We were far from the shores of England”

The sea has given so much for so long that we take for granted the livelihoods, the bounty, the culture, and the travel it has afforded us. But for as much as the oceans has given humankind, when the sea claims a life, the price is always too high, too exacting for loved ones left behind.

Each spring now, we reflect on the tragedies of The Titanic, the Ocean Ranger, Cougar 491, and consider how death brings meaning to life.

As songwriter, Roger Waters, put it, “we get 80 years with luck, or even less,” and it is that finality of human existence which gives us pause to be cautious. 

Today, we look on with horror and helplessness as lives are extinguished with the work of a moment in conflicts we try to understand, but don’t … really.

‘This is how it ends’

I nearly drowned once, in 2015, after falling in a river. I can’t swim and as I realized the water was deeper than my six feet of height, I had a brief thought, “so, this is how it ends.”

I started to hold my breath and wait. It turned out a nearby friend saw my fall, and together with a complete stranger, I was fished from the river and it is due to their courage, that I am fortunate to still be here to write these words.

But many don’t get a chance for one more expression of gratitude for life and the loved ones around them. And so, we, the living, try to express that gratitude for them. 

As long as we remember the ones who left us, who wait for us beyond, they never pass into obscurity. Their lives give us the lesson that life is short, made all the shorter by time spent bickering. 

As Mark Twain once wrote, “most of the things I’ve worried about, have never happened.”

If you’ve ever been given that second shot, remember how it came to be. Let us all be mindful that our shores may soon see others looking for a second chance at life, where so many of us have come “to chase a wish.”

Russell Bowers, The Herald’s contributing writer, can be reached by emailing letters@nfldherald.com

Newfoundlander Larry Daley has an interesting claim to fame. “I would say I have one of the largest Titanic and iceberg exhibits in the world, or one of the largest privately owned Titanic exhibits in the world, and probably the only Titanic and Iceberg collection in the world,” he shared proudly. 

Walking into Daley’s home is like walking into a museum. His daughter Becky Daley, well known to OZFM listeners and to NTV viewers, is always proud to show off her father’s treasures. 

From artifacts off of the actual Titanic, to remarkable props from the famous James Cameron blockbuster, Titanic, there’s so much to take in. 

Daley’s passion for all things Titanic started innocently enough; by being in the right place at the right time, he opined.  While out enjoying a sociable after work in September 1985 at Christian’s Pub on George Street, a group of what seemed to be expedition type individuals entered the bar and were celebrating.

13,000 foot Decent

“When I asked them what was the occasion, they stated that they had just found Titanic in the past few days and were heading home through Newfoundland,” he shared.

His passion has taken him many places, including to the resting place of that ill-fated vessel which sunk after striking an iceberg off Newfoundland in 1912. It sank within hours, taking over 1,500 lives with it. There were just 700 survivors. On June 25, 2003, Daley dove in a small Russian sub to see the wreckage, which lies almost 13,000 feet, or 2.5 miles deep below the ocean surface about 350 nautical miles off Newfoundland’s coast.

Daughter Becky told The Herald that she will never forget the day her dad set sail on his now famous expedition. “I was scared. I remember when he left, mom and I watched from Signal Hill. I was upset. He was on a boat and really couldn’t communicate with us.”

Daley knew, and understood, her fear. “I knew she was afraid. Her mother had to peel her off a chain link fence when she saw me on the stern of the ship sailing out through the harbour. The bond between us has always been so tight, we’re so close, but I also knew she was proud of what I was doing because she knew how much it meant to me,” he said.

Daley has long been intrigued by the Titanic. “I always knew about it when I was young, and I had seen some of the old black and white movies and watched the documentaries in the late 80’s of when they went back to recover artifacts to put in public display … but the year they discovered The Titanic and the chance meeting in a bar after work really pulled me in.”

He always knew there was a Newfoundland connection, he added. “Cape Race (Titanic’s distress call, issued late on the night of April 14, 1912, was received at the Marconi wireless station at Cape Race on our southern shore) and Newfoundland being the closest landfall to the wreck. That’s kind of where it started.”

Then, there was the film, Titanic, and the many expeditions to view the wreckage for documentaries, for science, as well as for eager tourists paying anywhere from $75,000 American dollars in 2003, to $250,000 to dive and see the wreckage in 2022.

“In 1996 an expedition went out to recover more artifacts and also to raise a big piece of the hull. They ended up having to drop it, and couldn’t get it on the vessel because of some technical issues. So they actually dropped it in a more shallow area close to the site.” 

The crew would return in 1998. “I actually was hired to be the expedition logistics coordinator for that one. I put a vessel out myself that I chartered and I also hosted Dateline NBC and Discovery Channel folks who were documenting that for television.”

That led to Daley forming a relationship with famed director James Cameron. “I’ve been very fortunate to work with Jim Cameron over several expeditions and through that a friendship formed and that friendship is still intact to this day,” he shared.

Fascinated by icebergs

Daley has spoken often about icebergs and the significance they hold. He’s an adventurous spirit, that we know, but what is it about icebergs themselves that captivate him, we ask. 

“I was always fascinated by icebergs because they’re very majestic and we’re very fortunate to see them go by our coastlines every spring going into the summer.” 

They’re a huge magnet for tourists, he added, and little wonder. “They’re amazing to see in all the different sizes and the shapes. When they’re active and you see them rolling, you put on the proper gear and grab your good cameras and go and get lots of photographs, video and things like that, but always enjoy them from a safe distance.”

The feeling of being out there is hard to explain, he added. 

“When you get into a nice field of ‘bergs and growlers, and they’re floating there, you get a feeling. There might be a few ‘bergs in that same area and all you hear is this hiss and crackling sound of all this ice that’s floating by, big and small. And what you hear is the air that was trapped in the ice from tens of thousands of years ago being released as the ice melts when it hits the waters. And the odd time you may see a humpback whale swim near an iceberg, which is pretty amazing to watch.”

Is he planning anything special for The Titanic’s 110th? “Internationally, there will be things around the world and it will be recognized as a significant anniversary. The topic is still very hot around the world.  There’s several generations interested and excited about The Titanic story. I had kids come up to me or parents with kids ask for a picture autographed of The Titanic that I took when I was down that time. I’m always amazed that six and seven year old kids know about The Titanic. It gets them excited about reading and science and that’s a good thing,” he said. 

What does he think the attraction is 110 years later? He paused. “Well, it’s interesting. It’s the story of how something man-made that was bragged about as being unsinkable could lead to such a catastrophic event with such a great loss of life. Over 1,500 people perished on a calm evening in calm waters.”

There’s also the compelling story of survival too, he continued. But there’s more to the tale. 

“It’s the arrogance and ignorance. That’s what caused that catastrophic event off our shores, which could have been easily avoided in numerous ways. From the speed they were going … It could have been avoided.”

‘Lifeboat drills’

Life boats. There wasn’t enough, he continued. “They even avoided doing the lifeboat drills because they wanted to get underway and get across the Atlantic. Break a record, type thing.” 

As to his collection? It’s nothing compared to his memories of being on board a submersible. “You drop for hours, down to almost 13,000 feet and you land on the bottom, turn on the outside floodlights and light up the bow of The Titanic, and that’s the picture I took. We floated from the sea floor up over the bow and to realize you are on the bottom of the ocean looking at the most famous ship of all time is amazing.” 

Daley paused, lost in reflection and thought. “That’s such an amazing part of my life and it’s so surreal to have been there,  and I know how blessed I was to experience that.”