08-30-2017, 09:45 AM
I know I've already posted this on Fanfiction, but thought I'd leave it here as well.
THE LIGHTER SIDE OF THE STORY
Legal stuff: The following is a work of fiction, and does not in any way intend to either depict an actual record of events or disparage those mentioned or portrayed. 'Sides, it's a tongue-in-cheek fic anyway.
Chapter One: Straight Outta Chorley
"I'm Charles Herbert Lightoller, and I want to be a sailor,"
"Go ahead then, and bring yer spinach with ye!" said Aunt sarcastically.
A/N: The events of the prologue, as you can see here, were largely based on historical fact as you may have noticed. A number of cultural references were made though; see if you guys can guess where I took them from.
The line "Five minutes earlier I had no idea of going…" was also actually taken off Lightoller's memoir Titanic and Other Ships, which was written in the 1930s on the insistence of his wife Sylvia, but was later initially withdrawn due to legal issues with the Marconi Company. You can find a copy of it on Amazon or Project Gutenberg.
THE LIGHTER SIDE OF THE STORY
Legal stuff: The following is a work of fiction, and does not in any way intend to either depict an actual record of events or disparage those mentioned or portrayed. 'Sides, it's a tongue-in-cheek fic anyway.
Chapter One: Straight Outta Chorley
One would be quite surprised to know how my relatives gave their consent for a young lad such as myself to go seafaring. I merely suggested it as a random bluff, but if not for that I wouldn't be on board the so-called ship of dreams, nor would I be subjected to hearing "Jack!" or "Rose!" every five minutes or so. Most of Britain's youth tend to wind up being in hard labour, ever since the Industrial Revolution kicked in. The teachers at grammar school described me as a handful, and I certainly am, given all what I've gotten myself into over the years.
"I'm Charles Herbert Lightoller, and I want to be a sailor,"
"Go ahead then, and bring yer spinach with ye!" said Aunt sarcastically.
I don't know why, but my sudden aspiration as a seafaring drifter and adrenaline junkie worked. You kids certainly don't know how it felt like to dodge sharks and errant funnels at sea back in the day.
The first stint as an apprentice on board Primrose Hill, was a rather gruelling exercise in servitude. If this isn't hazing for you, I don't know what it is. I was so seasick-wasted on first try, the rations are utter rubbish, and there were so many rats and roaches that it's way too easy to play whack-a-mole on board this pigsty. And did I mention that I was so hungry? Some of the other boys and I decided to sack the pantry and steal biscuits and such, pissing off the cook in the process, but we got away from it, not to mention that our stint in San Francisco landed yours truly in a hearty meal. It was certainly no picnic, but having been to a number of places does add to the credentials.
Neither was being shipwrecked for the first time either. Holt Hill ran aground, and we were marooned in a deserted island. A number of penguins and salmon were consumed in the name of survival, and we were glad another ship picked us up after a few days. No blood-faced volleyballs or sappy lovers in sight so far, let alone Celine Dion.
I initially felt the sea wasn't for me and upon hearing the gold rush in Klondike, I got excited. Five minutes earlier I had no idea of going, but just on the impulse of the moment, I said to myself "I'm off." Again, it was to no avail, as the obligatory acid test meant the nugget was a dud, and I then thought of working as a cowboy. Maybe I could've tried being a sailor and a cowboy at the same time and end up coming up with a nautical rodeo, with whales as bulls or something. As I was strapped for cash I set out to make it back home to England, even if it meant riding the rails and moonlighting in fairground attractions. I was able to earn enough money to Montreal, and I got into a deal where I could get back home in exchange for wrangling cattle on a boat.
Despite a number of episodes of getting broke, shipwrecked and nearly meeting my demise with malaria, somehow my misadventures were worth it as I got the much-coveted Master's Certificate, something an aspiring seafarer would be proud to brag about at the pub. It was due to this that I was able to land a job at the White Star Line, and met my friend William Murdoch.
The first stint as an apprentice on board Primrose Hill, was a rather gruelling exercise in servitude. If this isn't hazing for you, I don't know what it is. I was so seasick-wasted on first try, the rations are utter rubbish, and there were so many rats and roaches that it's way too easy to play whack-a-mole on board this pigsty. And did I mention that I was so hungry? Some of the other boys and I decided to sack the pantry and steal biscuits and such, pissing off the cook in the process, but we got away from it, not to mention that our stint in San Francisco landed yours truly in a hearty meal. It was certainly no picnic, but having been to a number of places does add to the credentials.
Neither was being shipwrecked for the first time either. Holt Hill ran aground, and we were marooned in a deserted island. A number of penguins and salmon were consumed in the name of survival, and we were glad another ship picked us up after a few days. No blood-faced volleyballs or sappy lovers in sight so far, let alone Celine Dion.
I initially felt the sea wasn't for me and upon hearing the gold rush in Klondike, I got excited. Five minutes earlier I had no idea of going, but just on the impulse of the moment, I said to myself "I'm off." Again, it was to no avail, as the obligatory acid test meant the nugget was a dud, and I then thought of working as a cowboy. Maybe I could've tried being a sailor and a cowboy at the same time and end up coming up with a nautical rodeo, with whales as bulls or something. As I was strapped for cash I set out to make it back home to England, even if it meant riding the rails and moonlighting in fairground attractions. I was able to earn enough money to Montreal, and I got into a deal where I could get back home in exchange for wrangling cattle on a boat.
Despite a number of episodes of getting broke, shipwrecked and nearly meeting my demise with malaria, somehow my misadventures were worth it as I got the much-coveted Master's Certificate, something an aspiring seafarer would be proud to brag about at the pub. It was due to this that I was able to land a job at the White Star Line, and met my friend William Murdoch.
A/N: The events of the prologue, as you can see here, were largely based on historical fact as you may have noticed. A number of cultural references were made though; see if you guys can guess where I took them from.
The line "Five minutes earlier I had no idea of going…" was also actually taken off Lightoller's memoir Titanic and Other Ships, which was written in the 1930s on the insistence of his wife Sylvia, but was later initially withdrawn due to legal issues with the Marconi Company. You can find a copy of it on Amazon or Project Gutenberg.