June 23, 2018 | 6 Comments If you are at all familiar with the name Charles Lightoller, it is probably through his association with the RMS Titanic, which sank in the North Atlantic on her maiden voyage on 15th April 1912, with the loss of more than 1,500 lives, following a collision with an iceberg. However, the fact that he is remembered today solely as a crew member of the ill-fated liner, does him a major disservice. Charles Herbert Lightoller was born on 30th March 1874 in Chorley, Lancashire, England, to Sarah and Fred Lightoller. Sadly, Sarah died soon after giving birth and Fred abandoned his young son, seeking a new life for himself in New Zealand. At the age of 13, Charles began a seafaring apprenticeship that would last four years, and which unfortunately for the young mariner, was certainly not plain sailing. On only his second voyage, the ship on which he was serving, the Holt Hill, was damaged in a storm and was forced to seek shelter at Rio de Janeiro, which just happened to be in the middle of a revolution and a smallpox epidemic at the time. Nevertheless, repairs were made and the ship was able to continue on with its voyage. That was until 13th November 1889, when another storm caused the ship to run aground on an uninhabited island in the Indian Ocean. The crew were eventually rescued and taken to Adelaide, Australia, where Lightoller managed to join the crew of a clipper called the Duke of Abercorn, which was sailing for England. While serving as third mate on a windjammer called the Knight of St. Michael, Charles found himself embroiled in another nautical nightmare, when the cargo of coal caught fire. On this occasion however, the young seaman distinguished himself by successfully extinguishing the blaze, and so saving the ship. For his endeavours he was rewarded with a promotion to second mate. In 1895, at the age of 21, Lightoller switched from sail to steam, and joined the African Royal Mail Service, steaming up and down the West African coast. However, after three years Charles contracted a severe bout of malaria, which almost cost him his life. Charles Lightoller (Circa 1910) This UK artistic work, of which the author is unknown and cannot be ascertained by reasonable enquiry, is in the public domain. Following his recovery, Lightoller decided to pursue a different career path, and in 1898 headed for the Yukon to prospect for gold, in what became known as the Klondike Gold Rush. Unfortunately he didn’t strike it rich and so headed instead for Alberta, Canada, where he worked for a time as a cowboy, before eventually working his passage home aboard a cattle boat, arriving back in England, penniless in 1899. In January of 1900, Charles elected to resume his maritime career, and joined the White Star Line as fourth officer on the SS Medic. It was whilst serving aboard the Medic, and while moored in Sydney Harbour, Australia, that an incident occured which suggested that Lightoller possessed a slightly eccentric sense of humour. Noting the concern of locals as to the potential outcome of the Boer War, that was at the time raging in far off South Africa, Charles decided to play a trick on the residents of Sydney. Just after midnight on Saturday 6th October 1900, Lightoller and two shipmates took a rowing boat and rowed out to Fort Denison in the harbour. There they hoisted a Boer flag and loaded a cannon with 14 pounds of blasting powder and a long fuse; the idea being to fool the good citizens of the city into thinking they were being attacked by a Boer raiding party. At 1am the cannon went off, and the ensuing blast was so loud that windows were blown out and startled residents leapt from their beds. When the Boer flag was spotted, panic ensued. Thanks to the long fuse, by the time of the explosion, Charles and his accomplices had made good their escape and the perpetrators of the stunt were never apprehended. Burdened by guilt over the incident however, Lightoller admitted his involvement to the line’s Marine Superintendent once back in England. Fortunately, instead of disciplining him, the officer found the whole thing highly amusing and simply told him to get on with his duties. At the beginning of April 1912, Charles Lightoller was appointed to the position of Second Officer aboard the RMS Titanic, a commission that would seal his place in history. On the night of 14th April, Charles had already retired to bed when he felt “a sudden vibrating jar run through the ship”. Being told that they had struck an iceberg, Lightoller got dressed and made his way up onto the deck of the stricken vessel. His initial confidence that the ship would not sink soon evaporated, and so Charles immediately began the task of loading passengers into lifeboats. His actions in this regard have subsequently met with some criticism. He interpreted the order of “women and children first” to mean “women and children only”, meaning some lifeboats were launched with spare capacity remaining. Lightoller even refused to allow the millionaire businessman John Jacob Astor to accompany his wife into a lifeboat. Astor subsequently drowned. As it became clear the ship was about to go under, Lightoller and his fellow officers shook hands and said goodbye to one another. With nothing more to be done aboard the crippled liner, Charles dived off of the roof of the officers’ quarters into the frigid waters of the North Atlantic. He somehow managed to avoid being dragged under by the colossal suction forces generated by the sinking leviathan, and was able to swim to an upturned lifeboat, which he clung to until rescued. Charles Lightoller thus became the most senior officer to survive the Titanic disaster. A Depiction of the Titanic Disaster Willy Stöwer. The author died in 1931, so this work is in the public domain in its country of origin and other countries and areas where the copyright term is the author’s life plus 80 years or less. Having lived through such a traumatic ordeal, one might think that that would have signalled the end of Charles’ life on the ocean waves. But not so. There were still more tales of derring-do to come, from our intrepid hero. During World War I, Lightoller enlisted in the Royal Navy and was given the command of a torpedo boat. He served with distinction, on one occasion even sinking a German submarine. By the end of hostilities he had been decorated on two occasions and emerged with the rank of Naval Commander. After the war Charles retired and bought his own boat named Sundowner, and together with his Australian wife Sylvia, spent many happy years cruising around northern Europe. Yes, that’s right, despite antagonising almost the entire population of Sydney, he actually married a girl – from Sydney! I wonder if he ever confessed his guilt to his in-laws! Even in retirement however, the world had not seen the last of Charles Lightoller. In 1940, after the outbreak of World War II, The British Army, along with troops from France and Belgium, found themselves trapped on the beaches of Dunkirk, France, with the German army approaching from land on one side and the English Channel on the other. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and the owners of boats in the south of England were informed that their vessels were needed to rescue the troops stranded on the French beaches. The retired Commander immediately sprang into action, determining to take the Sundowner to France himself. And so it was that on 27th May 1940, 66 year old Charles Lightoller, together with his son Roger and a sea scout named Gerald Ashcroft, set sail for Dunkirk. Despite being under aerial attack from German fighter aircraft, they managed to cram an astonishing 260 men on board the Sundowner, and all were successfully evacuated back to England. On watching the disembarkation, one astounded officer commented to Charles “My God, mate! Where did you put ’em all?” Charles’ Boat Sundowner Dunkirk Little Ship Sundowner in Ramsgate Harbour, Ramsgate, Kent. Stavros1. This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported license. Charles Herbert Lightoller DSC & Bar, RD died of heart failure on 8th December 1952 at the age of 78. His ashes were scattered at the Commonwealth Garden of Remembrance at Mortlake, Surrey, next to the River Thames. A life well lived, I think. Sources: http://allthatsinteresting.com/charles-lightoller https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charles_Lightoller
A friend of mine’s father was a retired army General and often had Lightoller and Sir James Bisset as guests .In fact it was Bisset who was responsible for my friend going to sea eventually with Cunard. As a young boy, Lightoller told him about the Sydney incident. On the 100th anniversary of the sinking we commemorated the occasion by lowering the house flag to half mast and sounding boat stations followed by a long blast till the compressor powering the super Tyfon could no longer keep up. This at the exact time of the sinking. We then adjourned to the local hotel for dinner Regards Alan Maggs Reply
Thanks for taking the time to comment on my post. It is always rewarding to hear from people who have a direct connection to someone in one of my stories. I’m sure Charles Lightoller would have been fascinating company. Kind regards Andrew (The Mutineer) Reply
Out of all the Titanic survivors, Second Officer, or should I say Commander Charles Herbert Lightoller, has always been my favorite. The life he led is a fascinating one. I burst out laughing when I found out exactly what he did in his younger years. He experienced more than what most would experience in a single lifetime. Surviving Titanic and two world wars?! That’s my definition of badass! He’s a hero in my eyes! If he were an American citizen and I was the president, I’d give him a Medal of Honor! Reply