. . the boat we were in started to take in water. . . . We had to bail. I was standing in ice cold water up to the top of my boots all the time, rowing continuously for nearly five hours. . . .”— Marian Thayer (Jack Thayer’s mother)At 3 a.m. in the North Atlantic it was dark and terribly lonely. The moonless sky was peppered with brilliant stars. But the immense canopy above only reminded the shocked survivors of how small and vulnerable they were. Their beautiful ship, a symbol of human achievement, workmanship, and technology, was gone. They were alone in their tiny boats on a great sea.Twenty lifeboats drifted, one upside down. A little more than 700 people were now in lifeboats; they were all that remained of the 2,208 passengers and crew. All the excitement and anticipation of the Titanic’s maiden voyage had turned to shock and sorrow.Earlier that night, passengers had been enjoying dinner, music, and conversation. For some, an Atlantic crossing was familiar, but for many this had been the journey of a lifetime, a start to a new life in America.
