Tuesday, September 15, 2020

The terrible luck of the three sisters, the Titanic, the Olympic, the Britannic, and the incredible luck of one woman

 

Violet Jessup
Violet Jessup


The White Star Line, a British steamship company, faced a challenge in the 1900’s. Its rival, the Cunard Line, had built smaller but faster steamships, and threatened the White Line’s traditional routes to America.  Bruce Ismay, the Director of the White Line, decided that to counter the threat by constructing larger and more opulent vessels. From this decision came the ‘Olympic’ class of ships, which set the standard for large passenger cruisers of the era.


The Olympic

The first, eponymously named Olympic, set sail on her maiden voyage in 1911. With nine
decks, a length of 883 feet and a height of 175 feet, and designed by the nota
ble naval architect Thomas Andrews, its size eclipsed anything seen on the seas so far. Unfortunately, within a year of its launch, it collided with the HMS Hawke, a warship designed to sink others by ramming them with its reinforced bow. The Olympic’s hull was breached, but somehow it made its way back to port.


The Titanic

The White Star Line next launched the Titanic on the tenth of April, 1912. It sank five days later. Its first class quarters were the epitome of luxury, with a gymnasium, swimming pool, libraries, fine china, several restaurants and well-appointed cabins. Of the estimated 2,224 passengers, over 1,500 died, making it the deadliest peacetime marine disaster.


The Britannic

Being gluttons for punishment, the White Star Line launched the Britannic in 1914, with the same unfortunate result. When the First World War started, it was leased by the Royal Navy and served as a hospital ship. On the 21st of November, 1916, it struck a German mine while sailing in the Aegean Sea. The explosion ripped open her hull and she sunk in less than an hour. Fortunately, having learned its lessons, the company had installed sufficient lifeboats and, of the 1,605 persons on board, only thirty died.

As incredible as it may seem, there was one person on board of all three ships when they sank, though she barely survived the disasters. Her name was Violet Jessup and she worked as a stewardess for the While Line Company. She inherited the love of the sea from her mother, who worked as a ship stewardess until she became too ill to continue. Jessop was twenty-one years of age but she kept getting rejected at job interviews. The employers found her “too pretty,” fearing problems with crew and passengers. Indeed, over the course of her career, she received three marriage proposals, including one from an extremely wealthy first-class passenger.

When she appeared for a job with the White Line Company, she wore old clothes and made herself look haggard. She got the job. Her first appointment was with the Olympic, then the Titanic and then, the Britannic. While she was unhurt from the Olympic disaster and was ordered into a lifeboat (as she was carrying a baby in her arms) aboard the Titanic, she almost lost her life during the sinking of the Britannic.

She jumped into the waters as the ship went underwater. The sea sucked her under, towards the ship’s propellers. Her head struck the keel, arresting her momentum and she was able to surface. Years later, when she went to a doctor complaining of persistent headaches, it was discovered that she had suffered a fracture of her skull. Displaying enormous fortitude, she continued working on large ships for another thirty-four years, until her retirement at age sixty-three.

The White Star Line did not survive its disasters. It was bought by the Royal Mail Packet Company in 1927, and in 1933 merged with its old rival, the Cunard Line.


Mohan Ashtakala is the author of 'The Yoga Zapper', a fantasy, and 'Karma Nation', a literary romance (www.mohanashtakala.com). He is published by Books We Love (www.bookswelove.com).


 


Monday, September 14, 2020

Sheila Claydon





Click here to find my books at Books We Love

I've just discovered a wonderful new word - librocubicularist! It refers to a person who reads in bed, and was invented by an American novelist, Christopher Morley, in the early 1900s. As someone who regularly reads in bed, I have adopted this word. It makes my late night and early morning reading sound like an important, even essential activity.

I have friends who also read in bed, while others do something I can never do, pull up the covers, switch off the light and go straight to sleep. One friend, however, is such a bad sleeper that when she wakes in the middle of the night and is unable to get back to sleep, she will read for an hour or two. Does this give her librocubicularist points? How much bedtime reading constitutes a seasoned librocubicularist - 30 minutes, an hour, daily, weekly. Does a five minute chapter count?
 

Discovering a new word is like finding treasure for a writer, even though I can't begin to imagine where librocubicularist could feature in my romantic fiction books. Having found one, however, I went looking for more and discovered aestivation. This is the summer equivalent of hibernation. It is lolling around in the heat of a hot summer day, so another word I can adopt for myself. Aestivating is definitely something I enjoy, preferably with a cold drink to hand, and an interesting book.


And lastly here is a very new one. Haiflu! Invented, as far as I can tell, by the poet Liv Torc, and promoted on National Poetry Day, it is half-sibling to the Japanese Haiku. The Haiku is a poem of seventeen syllables, in three lines of five, seven, and five, that traditionally evokes images of the natural world whereas the flippantly named Haiflu is the response of a poet to the Coronavirus pandemic. This one, which I love, is credited to Demi Anter, and is illustrated by a photo of a dog looking out a window:


Porridge for the twelfth
damn day in a row; I am
now made of porridge


I don't think any of the characters in my books are poets, or even prolific readers, and maybe I should think about that when I write my next one. Of them all, Holly Williams in my Retro Romance Empty Hearts is the closest. As an ex journalist whose visit to Moscow includes acting as a nanny to a five year old boy while researching for a book, she is probably a librocubicularist. Whether she would like Haiflu is a moot point, but while I think I might try to write one myself, I have just discovered that another BWL author, Susan Calder, is the winner of a traditional Haiku competition! Check out her post of 12 September. The words and images are lovely.





www.sheilaclaydonwriter.com





Saturday, September 12, 2020

Haiku, Gardens & Pandemic


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Last month, a friend coaxed me to enter the 2020 Lougheed House Haiku Contest. A seventeen syllable poem struck me as an amount of writing I could manage during a busy summer. 

I checked the contest guidelines. No entry fee. They allowed three haiku submissions per person. Themes suggested were gardens, nature, Calgary community, and life during the pandemic.  

Gardens made me instantly think of my next-door neighbour, who spends four hours a day tending her beautiful outdoor plants. One of her flower beds borders my front lawn. I started to think of this burst of colour as a connector between her and me during our pandemic isolation.


I knew haiku had lines, but needed the internet to remind me the traditional pattern is 5,7,5 syllables per line. My high school English teacher taught that haiku should refer to a season, although I gather that's no longer necessary. 

My thinking and research led to this haiku:

my neighbour's garden

bursts colour beside my yard

links us through summer

The contest required entrants to include a video of us reading or reciting our poems. I nabbed my husband Will for a cell phone recording. I stood behind the front yard flower bed and had to speak loudly to be heard, while resisting the urge to check that no one was passing by and watching me strangely. 


    

After I drafted this first haiku, Will and I set off on a bike ride to downtown Calgary. While pedaling by the Bow River, I mentally composed a haiku about how the pandemic closure of cafes, bars and gyms inspired people to go for walks along the river; a healthy, easy and free activity. We made a recording at our lunch spot beside the Bow River. Then we biked through a park and passed a group of women sitting in a circle of lawn chairs placed two metres (6.5 feet) apart, Canada's social distancing recommendation.  

I realized the phrase 'two metres apart' is five syllables - the ideal haiku first line length! 

To suit the contest themes, I placed the ladies in a garden. I liked the slightly archaic word 'ladies' for a contest sponsored by Calgary's historic Lougheed home. Drinking tea also evokes the past to me and what do ladies discuss at a garden tea? Their gardens. Present and past blended into my next haiku: 

two metres apart

ladies sit in the garden

drink tea, talk flowers

Will and I recorded this haiku in my neighbour's back yard. Since the video was too large to save to my computer, we uploaded it to dropbox. I sent my three haiku to the contest.   

A week later, I got the word that my poem 'two metres apart' placed first in the Lougheed House Haiku Contest and 'my neighbour's garden' received an honorable mention. The contest judges commented that they appreciated the garden imagery, since the Lougheed home is known for its splendid Beaulieu Gardens. 


The Lougheed House is posting the winning haiku recordings on its social media. You can find them on Facebook and Twitter.

Writing the haikus was fun and an opportunity to reflect on the links between gardens, people and the pandemic. 

I thank my good friend 

& historic Lougheed House

for inspiration 

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