rooms on the ship,’ Bell said. ‘Together, they contain twenty-four double-ended boilers and five single-ended boilers, designed for a working pressure of 215 pounds. Smoke from the boilers is released through three of the ship’s four funnels. Theaftermost funnel is used strictly for ventilating purposes and releasing chimney smoke from the ship’s galleys. Now, the coal that fires the engines is stored on each side of the ship and fed into cross bunkers that extend across each of the boiler rooms...’
‘Mr Bell, as I mentioned earlier, I would like to talk to some of your stokers,’ said Holmes. ‘Might we proceed into the next boiler room...’
‘What is wrong with the men right here, Commodore? Take old Fred, down there at the end. He has been stoking for White Star Lines now for...’
‘I am sure they are all fine men, but I have a particular type of individual in mind,’ Holmes said, once again leaving the perplexed engineer with an expression of total frustration. ‘Captain, would you mind if Doctor Watson and I continued on alone. I do not want to encroach on any more of your valuable time, or Mr Bell’s.’
‘Very good, Commodore. In fact, it is time that Mr Bell and I rejoined my senior officers and concluded our inspection of the ship. But please take care – I do not have to remind you of the safety hazards below deck.’
‘We will be careful, Captain, and our thanks to you and Mr Bell for this fine tour.’
Captain Smith and Bell departed through the reciprocating engine room, while Holmes and I continued into the No. 2 boiler room. While none of the stokers in the first boiler room had black beards, our luck changed in the second. Two of the men who were shovelling coal had jet-black beards. Holmes and I approached the tallest, most muscular of the two, who appeared to be in his mid-forties.
‘That looks like mighty thirsty work. Can I offer you a sip of brandy?’ Holmes took a flask from his coat pocket and, after removing the cap and taking a swallow, handed it to the tired crewman.
‘Don’t mind if I do, Admiral. Not a bit.’ The stoker took the silverflask in his big, calloused hand and poured a generous portion down his throat. ‘This coal dust, it just coats your mouth and teeth all day. I don’t mind firin’ my own furnace a little, if you know what I mean.’
‘I do indeed. I am Commodore Giles Winter and this is Doctor Watson. I am doing a little research on the Titanic for the Navy. How do you like working on her, Mr...?’
‘Hardwood, Edwin Hardwood. Pleased to meet you... Well, I like the Titanic just fine, just fine. The boiler room’s a little less confined, and a whole lot cleaner than on some other ships. But I tell you, the thing I really like is the crew’s quarters. The food’s good and they give you some livin’ space. And the skipper’s good too, real decent sort... Does he know you’re roamin’ around down here? I wouldn’t want you two gettin’ in any trouble.’
‘Oh, no problem at all,’ said Holmes, noticing that the other black-bearded stoker had put down his shovel, and was looking in our direction while mopping his brow. ‘In fact, we just left the captain next door in the aft boiler room. He was giving us a tour and let us continue ahead on our own.’ The stoker smiled and nodded, while taking another drink of brandy. ‘By the way,’ said Holmes, ‘that is quite a handsome beard you have. I was talking to one of your fellow stokers earlier. He had a black beard too and said it took him twenty minutes each day just to wash the coal dust out. Maybe you know him? I do not recall his name but he had fresh scratches on his face...’
Hardwood laughed and took another drink of brandy. ‘That sounds like young Strickley. He said he got them scratches when he fell on a pile of metal scraps. I think he maybe got a little too friendly with one of them girls in steerage he’s always sneakin’ over to see.’
‘I would like to talk to
‘Mr Bell, as I mentioned earlier, I would like to talk to some of your stokers,’ said Holmes. ‘Might we proceed into the next boiler room...’
‘What is wrong with the men right here, Commodore? Take old Fred, down there at the end. He has been stoking for White Star Lines now for...’
‘I am sure they are all fine men, but I have a particular type of individual in mind,’ Holmes said, once again leaving the perplexed engineer with an expression of total frustration. ‘Captain, would you mind if Doctor Watson and I continued on alone. I do not want to encroach on any more of your valuable time, or Mr Bell’s.’
‘Very good, Commodore. In fact, it is time that Mr Bell and I rejoined my senior officers and concluded our inspection of the ship. But please take care – I do not have to remind you of the safety hazards below deck.’
‘We will be careful, Captain, and our thanks to you and Mr Bell for this fine tour.’
Captain Smith and Bell departed through the reciprocating engine room, while Holmes and I continued into the No. 2 boiler room. While none of the stokers in the first boiler room had black beards, our luck changed in the second. Two of the men who were shovelling coal had jet-black beards. Holmes and I approached the tallest, most muscular of the two, who appeared to be in his mid-forties.
‘That looks like mighty thirsty work. Can I offer you a sip of brandy?’ Holmes took a flask from his coat pocket and, after removing the cap and taking a swallow, handed it to the tired crewman.
‘Don’t mind if I do, Admiral. Not a bit.’ The stoker took the silverflask in his big, calloused hand and poured a generous portion down his throat. ‘This coal dust, it just coats your mouth and teeth all day. I don’t mind firin’ my own furnace a little, if you know what I mean.’
‘I do indeed. I am Commodore Giles Winter and this is Doctor Watson. I am doing a little research on the Titanic for the Navy. How do you like working on her, Mr...?’
‘Hardwood, Edwin Hardwood. Pleased to meet you... Well, I like the Titanic just fine, just fine. The boiler room’s a little less confined, and a whole lot cleaner than on some other ships. But I tell you, the thing I really like is the crew’s quarters. The food’s good and they give you some livin’ space. And the skipper’s good too, real decent sort... Does he know you’re roamin’ around down here? I wouldn’t want you two gettin’ in any trouble.’
‘Oh, no problem at all,’ said Holmes, noticing that the other black-bearded stoker had put down his shovel, and was looking in our direction while mopping his brow. ‘In fact, we just left the captain next door in the aft boiler room. He was giving us a tour and let us continue ahead on our own.’ The stoker smiled and nodded, while taking another drink of brandy. ‘By the way,’ said Holmes, ‘that is quite a handsome beard you have. I was talking to one of your fellow stokers earlier. He had a black beard too and said it took him twenty minutes each day just to wash the coal dust out. Maybe you know him? I do not recall his name but he had fresh scratches on his face...’
Hardwood laughed and took another drink of brandy. ‘That sounds like young Strickley. He said he got them scratches when he fell on a pile of metal scraps. I think he maybe got a little too friendly with one of them girls in steerage he’s always sneakin’ over to see.’
‘I would like to talk to
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