Whiteman’s manner of escape was unique. He was blown off the deck by the second of the two explosions of the boilers, and was in the water more than two hours before he was picked up by a raft.
“The explosions,” Whiteman said, “were caused by the rushing in of the icy water on the boilers. A bundle of deck chairs, roped together, was blown off the deck with me, and I struck my back, injuring my spine, but it served as a temporary raft.
“The crew and passengers had faith in the bulkhead system to save the ship and we were lowering a collapsible boat, all confident the ship would get through, when she took a terrific dip forward and the water swept over the deck and into the engine rooms.
“The bow went clean down, and I caught the pile of chairs as I was washed up against the rim. Then came the explosions which blew me fifteen feet.
“After the water had filled the forward compartments, the ones at the stern could not save her, although they did delay the ship’s going down. If it wasn’t for the compartments hardly anyone could have got away.”
A SAD MESSAGE
One of the Titanic’s stewards, Johnson by name, carried this message to the sorrowing widow of Benjamin Guggenheim:
“When Mr. Guggenheim realized that there was grave danger,” said the room steward, “he advised his secretary, who also died, to dress fully and he himself did the same. Mr. Guggenheim, who was cool and collected as he was pulling on his outer garments, said to the steward:—
PREPARED TO DIE BRAVELY
“‘I think there is grave doubt that the men will get off safely. I am willing to remain and play the man’s game, if there are not enough boats for more than the women and children. I won’t die here like a beast. I’ll meet my end as a man.’