A Marvellous Launch
Witnessed By Thousands
Brilliant Scene at Queen's Island
(From Our Reporter)

The vessel launched yesterday from the yard of Harland and Wolff deserves well her name Titanic for none other would more aptly apply.

This ship, the greatest that ever took the water, has been Irish built throughout, it may be said, “born on Irish soil,” and this noble specimen of engineering is so far the finest of man’s creation, a testimony to the superiority of Irish brains and Irish hands. She may visit the greatest of the world’s ports, pass rival liners on the vast oceans, and still will long remain the finest ship afloat until the day when her greatness will be eclipsed by a sister ship owned by the eminent firm of the White Star Line, designed, built and engined by Harland and Wolff, just as this one and her renowned elder sisters, such as the Olympic, Baltic, Oceanic, Laurentic, have been.
Each of these colossal ships has built up the acknowledged record of the White Star Company for having fast, luxurious, safe, reliable ships, but the existence and performance of these vessels have even added in a greater degree to the lustre of the wonderful Irish firm of which Lord Pirrie is the chief.

The day was really observed as a holiday by all who could leave work, some of these people joining the many of the leisured class who travelled long distances in order to witness the launch. A glorious day fell to the lot of the public, brilliant sun, and a sky unflecked by the tiniest clouds being the fair, favoured conditions of the weather, and it is to be hoped that this augurs such a sunny future for the noble ship that she will never know the dark shadow of disaster (emphasis added).

Most of the spectators went to the County Antrim side of the river, and here every vantage point, free or bought, was quickly seized on, and those who were on the Queen’s Island , on which are the works where the White Star ships were built, could see a dense mass of people lining the opposite side of the river. The Harbour Board gave up their works to the public for the day, a charge for admission was made, and the resultant sum given over to the city hospitals. On the river were many craft from small to large, and these were full to overflowing with sightseers.

There were two sights yesterday well worth travelling a long distance to see – one was the launch, the other was the concourse that assembled to greet the entry of the leviathan to its element. The streets leading to the Queen’s bridge showed busy scenes in the forenoon, as the sightseers passed through, but the real sight was the throng that returned when the launch was over, and the torrent of vehicular traffic that poured the thousands of humanity back into the city.

The stranger saw much to interest him in the passing scenes, but it was not until within a little less than a quarter of a mile from the works that one loses all thought of humanity and is forced to rivet his full attention on what now confronts him. Rising high over the roofs of the great suite of offices of Harland and Wolff appears a vast net-work, which one can see is composed of steel girders and beams, crossing one another at all possible angles. From out of this apparent tangle there loomed the bow of the Titanic, just like an enormous wedge.

Coming nearer to the works the wonderful picture took even more wonderful shape. On approaching the works there were apparent the complete nature of the details that were even applied to the admission of the guests. Each door gave entry to the holder of a particular ticket, the checking being in the hands of the members of the clerical staff of the firm, these gentlemen being courteous in the extreme. The moment the visitor emerged from the offices he viewed the wonder of ship construction, still it was impossible to get an idea of her gigantic dimensions, for from no part of the immense yard was it possible to see the complete ship.

Immediately beside the bow and facing that great wedge were two immense stands, one being devoted to special guests, the other being exclusively for Pressmen who numbered over a hundred – these being the invited guests of Messrs Ismay and Imrie, better known as the White Star Company. The Press representatives were not alone from many papers but from several countries, French, German and American journals being represented. Amongst the spectators were many foreigners, notably Germans.

About a hundred feet down from the bow of the vessel and on the post side of the ship was a substantially built stand, almost destitute of any ornamentation, but it bore on its side an inscription that attracted to it the gaze of the public, that one word being “owners.” It was untenanted up to within a few minutes of the actual ceremony, for both the owners and the builders had until then merged themselves with the crowd of workmen who were engaged on the finishing touches that went to ensure the perfection of launching.

Mr Bruce Ismay, the managing director, strolled unconcernedly about the enclosure, now and then being greeted by his friends, or exchanging a few words with heads of the departments of the builders. But most interesting of all personages was Lord Pirrie. Dressed in a suit of dark navy serge, and wearing a yachting cap well down over his eyes to shade them from the intense glare of the sun, he was as active as any one could be in superintending the final stages of the launch. Despite the great heat, he rapidly visited places where he desired to see matters for himself. As he passed friends and acquaintances, he stopped to exchange a word or two, in most cases the reason for the hearty handshake that was accorded to him being to accentuate the wish to both himself and Lady Pirrie that of “many happy returns of the day,” for it so came about that the birthday of each came on yesterday – a date which may be also said to be the birthday of the Titanic, for it was the day on which she first touched the world of waters that she is to conquer.

Though Lord Pirrie was indeed on yesterday the busiest of men, he never for an instant displayed the least sign of perturbation or fear of mishap – there was absolute confidence in his movements and his manner. He was the keen man of business who trusted his work to his chosen men, and these he visited at the time he thought best. To see Lord Pirrie yesterday afternoon was to observe how great minds can control and finish a task of great magnitude.

Here was this enormous mass on the ways, a ship over a quarter of a mile long, having deadweight of close on 50,000 tons, towering aloft for almost a hundred feet, worth a couple of millions of money – in the shadow that its great bulk threw as it intercepted the strong light and fierce heat of the sun, was this king of ship construction, cool and calm, awaiting the arrival of the exact second on which his creation was to be released from the fetters that yet bound her to the land.

The Titanic rested on a great wooden slip or platform called the ways, this being a platform that sloped at an angle of about 15 degrees towards the water, the structure being of huge beams heavily greased with tallow so as to facilitate the progress of the ship as she slid down the platform on to the water. Around this platform there was a scene of life as swarms of workmen, in the well known brown dungaree overalls, went in and out beneath the keel of the liner. There men were busy for some time in removing the short, thick piece of timber that hitherto had kept the Titanic propped in position. In a short space of time these were cleared off, so perfect being the arrangements that they were easily taken away so as to leave an ample margin for the next operation.

Five minutes before the appointed time there boomed out a double rocket, that being the signal that all was clear. At this warning the crowd ceased to move about and took up the best points of vantage that offered. Many were to be seen, watch in hand, to check the actual time of the launch, and to chronicle the length of time it would be before the bows were in the water, for those ships being launched stern foremost the last place to touch the water is the bow.

Suddenly there broke out from beneath her keel the clang of hundreds of hammers as they rung on metal to metal. This noise was welcome to most of the spectators, for it broke the tense feeling that many felt, for certainly the expectant feeling was but natural. On the sound of a piercing whistle the hammering ceased, and a singular stillness followed, such as one would think impossible in a place where were congregated many thousands.

By this time, the “owners”, a few friends, which included Miss Asquith, and the famous American multi-millionaire, Mr Pierpont Morgan, ascended to the platform, but Lord Pirrie was still below having a last look at the hydraulic rams that were now the only obstacles to the flight of the Titanic from terra firma. These rams were on each side of the ship, one being immediately beside the owners’ stand. They are small things to look at, yet they are capable of exerting enormous pressure. In the case of yesterday each ram had a pressure of 550 tons on a trigger that held the ship from slipping down the ways; and as the pressure was removed, these triggers were so arranged that they fell out of the notches of the ship into which they fitted, and thus the last tie was broken.

A few seconds from 12.15 and not a single voice was heard. Lord Pirrie turned unconcernedly away from the hydraulic machine and slowly ascended the steps leading to his platform, leisurely took out his watch, and at the instant of 12.15 slightly, almost imperceptibly, moved his hand. Once more the whistle rang out, then the signal rockets boomed, the mountain of metal commenced to move, and there burst forth from the throats of the thousands of men, women, and children that were assembled at the yard, from those that filled the boats on the river, and from the great human belt that fringed the opposite shore, a cheer that seemed like tumult – it was a wild roar.

Hats flew high; persons dressed in the height of fashion forgot the menace to fine feathers and beautiful costumes that lie thick in a shipyard, for several hundred tons of tallow went to making smooth the progress to the sea of the great liner – these people were caught in the vortex of the excitement born in the wonder of seeing great things, evidently easily done, and very many hundreds ran as hard as possible in order to see the Titanic take the water.

She beat most of her admirers, for the entire quarter of a mile of ship, displacing sixty thousand tons, was completely in the water in sixty-three seconds from the time she first moved.

The spectacle was one never to be forgotten. First her slow motion as she was loosed from her thralldom, then the speed accelerated and became quicker and quicker as she neared the water that was to be her future foe, as if she was eager to take on the battle with the element that has waged war on her kin ever since man first pitted the structure of his creation against the mightiest force of nature.

She took the water just as would a swan, her beautiful lines of displacement throwing even a much lesser wave than would the paddles of the big tugs that took her in tow immediately after. There are always fears of a wave caused by the sudden displacement of such a huge body of water, and at English yards there have been bad accidents from the wave breaking on the quays near to the launch and enveloping spectators.

In the case of the Titanic, though she ran into what was a comparatively narrow space, her lines are so fine that the resulting wave only sent the water to a height of nine inches, certainly not quite a foot, so that the spectators were never once in the least danger.

It was only when the Titanic was in the water that her magnificent lines were apparent. She looked the perfection of symmetry, truly a ship, sitting as vertically in the water as if she had previously been tested and balanced to the ounce.

To the writer the launch was a most fascinating spectacle, but what chiefly absorbed his attention was the giant personality of the head of the wonderful firm of Harland and Wolff, Belfast, the builders of the largest and best ships that he world has ever seen, a reputation that they will preserve as long as there will exist such a firm as the White Star Company, who believes in having built for them by the best people the best of ships.

From page five of the Cork Examiner, Thursday morning, June 1st, 1911.