Charles Lightoller: The Titanic Officer Who Kept Surviving

Charles Lightoller: The Titanic Officer Who Kept Surviving

As you may know I have been trying to discover more about the people on board Titanic, and I want to turn my attention to a member of the crew, Charles Lightoller. Many of us have heard the name, but his life was much more than that one night. Lightoller had a resilience that seemed to run through his whole life. He was born on the 30th of March 1874 in Chorley, Lancashire, into a family that was actually connected to the cotton industry. His mother and siblings died when he was a child, and his father left for New Zealand when he was just ten. He was then most likely cared for by his extended family. He must have been so lonely and scared, this potentially gave him the independence and strength that would define him.

At just thirteen years old, he decided to work at sea rather factory life. His became an apprentice sailor, but life was anything but easy. He experienced storms, disease, a shipwreck, and even being stranded on a remote island. It is hard to imagine what that must have felt like as a teenager, facing such situations. But these hardships seem to have hardened his resolve. He rose through the ranks, finally earning his qualifications and moving from away from sailing ships to steamships. He survived malaria, chased gold during the Klondike rush, worked as a cowboy, but returned home with nothing. But, he started over again. He was definately persistence.

By the early 1900s, he joined the White Star Line and worked on major passenger ships, and eventually served under Captain Edward Smith. In 1903, he married Sylvia Hawley Wilson, and began a family life that must have offered him some sense of stability. 

In March 1912, Lightoller joined the RMS Titanic. By the time the ship set sail, he was serving as a Second Officer. On the 14th of April 1912, he had just completed his watch, when the ship hit an iceberg. When he felt the impact, he did not think there was any immediate danger. That same thought was felt by many on board, a sadly false sense of security that such a large and practically unsinkable ship could not possible by in danger from an iceberg, but the reality soon set in.

As the situation became unimaginably clear, Lightoller quickly went into action. On the port side of the ship, he took charge of loading the lifeboats. He followed orders to the letter, allowing only women and children into the boats unless men were needed as crew. This decision has been debated ever since, especially as some lifeboats were lowered with empty seats. In that moment, however, he must have been under immense pressure, trying to impose order on a situation that was descending into chaos.

As the ship went under, Lightoller was still on board and he ended up in the freezing Atlantic. He later described the cold as unbearable, like knives against the skin. At one point, he was dragged under by the force of the sinking ship, pinned by water pressure before a blast of air forced him thankfully back to the surface. Somehow, he managed to survive. He found an overturned collapsible lifeboat and climbed onto it with some others, and he once again took charge. Through the night, he helped keep them balanced and alive until they were rescued. Out of all the senior officers, he was the highest-ranking to survive. 

Following the disaster, he gave evidence at both the American and British inquiries. He defended his employers and helped to create new safety recommendations, including better lifeboat provisions and continuous radio watch. 

When the First World War began, Lightoller served in the Royal Naval Reserve for the United Kingdom. He was called into active service and took on dangerous responsibilities at sea. He commanded vessels, engaged enemy forces, and was involved in anti-submarine warfare. For his bravery, he was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross and later a Bar to that medal, as well as the Reserve Decoration. His involvement in the sinking of a German U-boat, led to accusations of bad treatment of survivors, something that to this day remains debated. It does show the darker, more complex side of wartime decisions.

After the war, his association with the Titanic seemed to limit his career prospects. Despite his service, he found himself moving between different jobs, from farming to property work. It must have been frustrating to think that one moment overshadowed everything else he had done.

During the Second World War, he helped once again. Though he had retired, he offered his personal yacht, Sundowner, to assist in the evacuation of Dunkirk in 1940. He refused to simply hand it over, and sailed it himself across the Channel. In a boat designed for far fewer people, he helped rescue around 127 soldiers, under enemy fire. He went on to also serve with Small Vessels Pool and the Royal Army Service getting a mention in dispatches.

His later years were spent managing a boatyard in Richmond, London. But even then, his life could not escape loss. Two of his sons were tragically killed during the Second World War. 

He died on the 8th of December 1952, during the Great Smog of London, at the age of 78.

 

It makes me think, when we look at figures like Lightoller, do we remember them for a single defining moment, or should we try to understand the full complexity of the lives they lived?

Image info:

Charles H. Lightoller, second officer of the RMS Titanic

Date: 1920 -1930