Titanica
I just want to preface this by saying there's no pictures. I had brought my camera and thought it'd be cool if I could take a picture or two, but the rules clearly stated that no cell phones, cameras, etc. were allowed and I didn't particularly want to get into trouble. :(
That aside, I have to say the exhibit itself was great. I don't go to museums often, but this really was something. The objects themselves were fascinating, of course, but the sets they created to go along with it were amazing. (Off the top of my head they recreated a corridor in first-class, the third-class bunks, and parts of the boiler room).
But let's start from the beginning. The hand gets stamped, of course (and damn, is that ink ever permanent. I was worried it would run off the instant I washed my hands, but I've washed my hands at least five times since then and there's still a noticeable red stain), and we went off on a long trek to where the exhibit itself was (it involved going down three esclators, as well as going through this neat hallway where everything -- walls, ceiling, and floor -- was covered in this sort of light, and it kept changing colours. It was cool, but kind of trippy.
The line isn't that long (we got there by ten), and so we didn't wait too long. Just enough time to hide the camera, in case security noticed it. It was at the main desk that were were given these neat little cards, designed to look like tickets for the Titanic. Each of them contained a name, what class they were in, and such. At the end of the exhibit was a display showing who lived and who died, and you could check your ticket to see if your persona lived or died.
(Click for full size)
Kate Florence Philips, aka Kate Marshall (which I assume was an alias) was nineteen and travelling to Los Angeles with her 39-year-old married boyfriend. It is sad that my three initial thoughts were:
1. "Hey, she's my age."
2. "Geez, talk about an age gap."
3. "Oh hey, this reminds me of Celestial Souls".
The sad thoughts continue, I assure you.
That aside, we headed into the first room, which wasn't too spectacular -- it had some pieces of the ship, some information, and a large scale model. There were pictures on the walls throughout, including short bios of major players, and at one point an ad for the ship. How times have changed -- for a third-class trip, the poster said it was around $45. On the wall was a quote by the Captain, Edward Smith, along the lines of "I do not see any reason for this ship to sink". That's very loosely paraphrasing, mind, but that's about it. Oh, the irony.
It was interesting to see how massive some of the ship parts were (and how small those ship parts looked on the model, giving you an idea of the ship's size). It was all very dark in here; not a whole lot of light except to illuminate each piece just enough to see it. This was recurring throughout, except in places without any exhibits, like the first-class hallway I mentioned. I think it might have something to do with the fact that these are obviously fragile displays, and I've heard in cases like these, even something like too much light can destroy them. I don't know if this is truth in this case, but if it is, it explains the "no cameras" rule.
The second room was similar to the first, so not much else to mention there. But here was where it got interesting -- the next room was where the first 'set' was -- there was two 'main' doors that looked like they led toa dining area (I could have sworn some similar doors appeared in the film), and off the side was what appeared to be a hallway down the first-class sleeping area. None of the doors opened, though my dad tried, but the effect was amazing. Call me stupid, but for some reason seeing this -- something solid like this -- seemed to make it that much more real. I mean, I've watched Ghosts of the Abyss, I've seen footage of the wreck itself, but this seemed to make it much more real than the ship's rusted skeleton.
From there we went into a large display room that contained things from the first-class area. There was some personal items there, but for the most part it was basic White Star stuff -- things like dishes, toiletries, and, if you can believe it, money. Not coins either (well, there was some), but actual paper bills. Call me stupid again, but I was under the impression that paper, linen, wood, etc, would have long since rotted away underwater. Most of the dishes were perfectly intact, and all but one set retained their original colours -- they were pretty. I don't normally care for dishes, but the decorations were exquisite. I had a notebook and pen with me; I should have at least made some sketches. :(
Also notable was part of a gold-plated candle-holder, looking still pretty good and shiny considering where it's been. There was also a toast rack (the custom at the time was apparently to eat toast cold. I think that's gross, but then again I'm not living in 1912). Really, I know I probably sound like the word's biggest idiot gushing like this, but I am honestly surprised at how good a condition some of these pieces were in. I know they probably had some resoration work done to them to make sure they survived above water, but still. I was half expecting only bits and pieces, not stuff like this.
That was a neat display; over on one corner they had some random bits of things -- bits of a bedframe , bits of a chair leg (they were bolted down, and the metal bolt was what was there, but there were bits of wood still attached), some playing cards, and so on. There was a third-class toilet in there -- apparently they were even automatic toilets. Apparently some emigrants had never used toilets before, said the caption, and so they were automatic to make them easier to use. I thought that was neat; I didn't know they had those back then.
Off to the side was a small recreation of a first-class suite, which I unfortunately didn't get too good a look at. It was grand, I can tell you that. I guess Titanic's accomodations were so good that their second-class lodgings equalled the first-class of contemporary ships. On the way out of that room there were some collections of jewellery, including a ring with its' diamonds still intact, and some buttons and cufflinks from the officers. There was also a pocketwatch in good condition, a nice gold one.
There were a few bottles of wine here on display; one of them, by the looks of it, still had wine inside. It was difficult to tell, but it definitely looked partially full. I know wine gets better with age, but I'm not sure I'd want to drink that. :P
From here on there was another display in another room. This time it was the third-class lodgings, decidedly less luxurious than what we'd just seen. The sounds of the "engine" were pretty much a constant low rumbling, but the accomodations themselves looked pretty good. I mean, you're not dining on lamb and sleeping in a private suite, but this was not horrible looking. Bunk beds, essentially. Granted, I'm probably not one to judge as I'm just looking at a blank and sterile recreation and not the actual thing...but hey, it could have always been worse.
There were a couple more things in here, including a kerosene lamp and a lantern. I know I've said it a million times already, but these were interesting to look at. It's neat to see old technology.
The next room was the engine room. he main attraction was a whole wall made to look like the rows of furnaces, with mirrors around it to create the illusion that they just kept stretching on and on. Trust me, I was completely fooled until I leaned forwards too far and caught sight of my reflection. :P Even then it didn't immediately hit me; I remember thinking "oh, someone else is looking at the furnaces -- wait, that's me!". Dur.
There were more ship parts in here, mostly things having to do with the boiler room. The technology was neat, but I couldn't really make too much sense of it. It was there, that's great, but I don't know how it works so I don't have as much interest in it.
From there we passed into the "North Atlantic" room, so called because, for starters, the walls were made to look like the night sky and there was a giant iceberg there. :P You could touch it too; there was frost on it and it was pretty damn cold. Made worse was the fact that, as the sign pointed out, freshwater freezes at different temperature than saltwater, so the actual ocean was far colder. Most people died of hypothermia, not drowning. I already knew that, but still, that was an unhappy reminder.
There were more things in here that interested me; one was a...thing, and that's the best I can call it, that they used to lower lifeboats. It's huge. As the sign pointed out, there were two arms -- one was in a position that showed a lifeboat had already been lowered; the one closest to us had not been used, and had been recovered that way. I can't remember of it was on the ocean floor or not, though.
And another case of "I can't believe that was preserved"...a man's hat. There's a few holes, of course, and it's not looking the best, but the fact that it was there, largely intact, was amazing. There was also a woman's bracelet there; it was a chain with a diamond-encrusted "Amy" in cursive. Most of the diamonds had fallen off, but that didn't detract from it.
The walls contained banners here, all with quotes from passengers. Some of them were truly saddening, such as this one (paraphrased): "All around me I can hear people yelling 'women and children first!' I know it is designed for my safety, but it has cost me the greatese thing of all: the life of my husband." It was from a woman named Charlotte C, I believe. Good God, that room was almost depressing, and the music didn't help. (There was some bizarre sounds in the background; at the time I didn't know what the hell it was supposed to be, but now I'm guessing it might have been sounds of the ship sinking to the bottom? It was a kind of faint groaning/rumbling noise and was rather eerie).
Along the back wall of this room, on the way to one of the final rooms, were a bunch of small cases, each containing a few personal items. Unlike most everything else, none of them were labelled. I think there was a few more bits of jewellery; I remember seeing a small metal statuette of some dog-like creature, though that didn't look to be any kind of jewellery. No, the biggest thing that stood out here were a pair of glasses.
I am completely serious when I say that they didn't look a day older than the day they were last worn. If they didn't look dated in their design, you probably would have mistook them for being new, that's how well-preserved they were. Also in that particular case was a pipe and what appeared to be a case for the glasses, but it was those glasses that stood out the most, and I can't quite say why.
The next room sought to recreate the look of underwater with fancy lightning and the arrangement of the pieces -- dishes, for example, were neatly stacked in rows, exactly the way they had been found. (They had been in a cabinet, which had, of course, rotted away, leaving the dishes stacked neatly in the sand). There was also a large cooking pot and some cooking utensils, and more ship parts. Along one wall was an overview of how preservation works; I only skimmed it, but it was here I learned that those items I thought should have dissolved? Yeah, apparently, paper, linens, and such, don't rot if they're in something else, like a leather puoch or something. That exaplains it, though it's no less striking to see ninety-five-year old artifacts sitting there intact.
The final room was large; along one wall was the list of passengers divided by class. In this room were more personal artifacts; in some cases names and short bios were listed, but some were not.
Are you keeping track of the "I can't believe that's preserved" file? I hope so, because get ready to add to the list: clothes. To be specific, a man's waistocat and pants, both in a kind of checked pattern. There were also white pajamas and a "manicurist kit", though just the case remained. Again, the clothes were in good condition (no holes or rips, but some stains). There was also a shirt collar in another case. That was fascinating to see.
I remember a little more about this room; most of the artifacts were papers of some kind, mostly postcards or immigration papers. In one case there was an envelope with letter still inside, as well as a beautiful old songbook and a small collection of wooden reeds, partially rotted away. And in a large box was a case belonging to a perfumist (who did not survive, to my knowledge). There was still perfume in the bottles, and there were small holes in the side of the case -- yes, after decades of being underwater, there was still some scent.
Do you remember Kate Florence Phillips from the beginning? I looked on the list of second-class passengers, but due to the size of the damn things, I could only read the names of the deceased clearly, because those were on the bottom. The survivors were on the top, and glare from the lights prevented me from seeing properly. I could not find a Kate Phillips or Kate Marshall under the dead, and eventually my mother found her name among the survivors. :) (Apparently Henry Morley, her boyfriend, went down with the ship).
The rest of my family wasn't so lucky. All their personas were in third-class and all died. Too bad for them. :P
And of course, the whole thing ended on the obligatory gift shop. There were actually some pretty nice things there; they were selling reproduction china and costume jewellery alongside the more conventional t-shirts and trinkets. Of course they sold the 1997 movie, as well as another movie called "Titanic", but made in 1952-53. I had never heard of that one. I looked at the jewellery. There were some nice pieces there -- the main attraction was a necklace that looked like the Heart of the Ocean that was going for thirty bucks. Some of them were pretty pricey -- there was a nice looking choker-ish necklace with a large cross on it that was going for seventy dollars.
They also seemed to keep hawking pieces of coal from the Titanic. It was either in a plaque (with a certificate of authenticity and costing over seventy dollars to boot) or in necklaces and bracelets. I'm not sure why someone would want to own a piece of coal, let alone pay nearly a hundred dollars for it, but that's just me.
After that we wandered around the Science Centre for another hour more, having free run of the place. That place in itself is pretty interesting, even if it's more aimed for children.
All in all, I enjoyed the exhibit; it was a lot more than I expected, and a lot more...personal. I'd go again. ;)
That aside, I have to say the exhibit itself was great. I don't go to museums often, but this really was something. The objects themselves were fascinating, of course, but the sets they created to go along with it were amazing. (Off the top of my head they recreated a corridor in first-class, the third-class bunks, and parts of the boiler room).
But let's start from the beginning. The hand gets stamped, of course (and damn, is that ink ever permanent. I was worried it would run off the instant I washed my hands, but I've washed my hands at least five times since then and there's still a noticeable red stain), and we went off on a long trek to where the exhibit itself was (it involved going down three esclators, as well as going through this neat hallway where everything -- walls, ceiling, and floor -- was covered in this sort of light, and it kept changing colours. It was cool, but kind of trippy.
The line isn't that long (we got there by ten), and so we didn't wait too long. Just enough time to hide the camera, in case security noticed it. It was at the main desk that were were given these neat little cards, designed to look like tickets for the Titanic. Each of them contained a name, what class they were in, and such. At the end of the exhibit was a display showing who lived and who died, and you could check your ticket to see if your persona lived or died.
(Click for full size)
Kate Florence Philips, aka Kate Marshall (which I assume was an alias) was nineteen and travelling to Los Angeles with her 39-year-old married boyfriend. It is sad that my three initial thoughts were:
1. "Hey, she's my age."
2. "Geez, talk about an age gap."
3. "Oh hey, this reminds me of Celestial Souls".
The sad thoughts continue, I assure you.
That aside, we headed into the first room, which wasn't too spectacular -- it had some pieces of the ship, some information, and a large scale model. There were pictures on the walls throughout, including short bios of major players, and at one point an ad for the ship. How times have changed -- for a third-class trip, the poster said it was around $45. On the wall was a quote by the Captain, Edward Smith, along the lines of "I do not see any reason for this ship to sink". That's very loosely paraphrasing, mind, but that's about it. Oh, the irony.
It was interesting to see how massive some of the ship parts were (and how small those ship parts looked on the model, giving you an idea of the ship's size). It was all very dark in here; not a whole lot of light except to illuminate each piece just enough to see it. This was recurring throughout, except in places without any exhibits, like the first-class hallway I mentioned. I think it might have something to do with the fact that these are obviously fragile displays, and I've heard in cases like these, even something like too much light can destroy them. I don't know if this is truth in this case, but if it is, it explains the "no cameras" rule.
The second room was similar to the first, so not much else to mention there. But here was where it got interesting -- the next room was where the first 'set' was -- there was two 'main' doors that looked like they led toa dining area (I could have sworn some similar doors appeared in the film), and off the side was what appeared to be a hallway down the first-class sleeping area. None of the doors opened, though my dad tried, but the effect was amazing. Call me stupid, but for some reason seeing this -- something solid like this -- seemed to make it that much more real. I mean, I've watched Ghosts of the Abyss, I've seen footage of the wreck itself, but this seemed to make it much more real than the ship's rusted skeleton.
From there we went into a large display room that contained things from the first-class area. There was some personal items there, but for the most part it was basic White Star stuff -- things like dishes, toiletries, and, if you can believe it, money. Not coins either (well, there was some), but actual paper bills. Call me stupid again, but I was under the impression that paper, linen, wood, etc, would have long since rotted away underwater. Most of the dishes were perfectly intact, and all but one set retained their original colours -- they were pretty. I don't normally care for dishes, but the decorations were exquisite. I had a notebook and pen with me; I should have at least made some sketches. :(
Also notable was part of a gold-plated candle-holder, looking still pretty good and shiny considering where it's been. There was also a toast rack (the custom at the time was apparently to eat toast cold. I think that's gross, but then again I'm not living in 1912). Really, I know I probably sound like the word's biggest idiot gushing like this, but I am honestly surprised at how good a condition some of these pieces were in. I know they probably had some resoration work done to them to make sure they survived above water, but still. I was half expecting only bits and pieces, not stuff like this.
That was a neat display; over on one corner they had some random bits of things -- bits of a bedframe , bits of a chair leg (they were bolted down, and the metal bolt was what was there, but there were bits of wood still attached), some playing cards, and so on. There was a third-class toilet in there -- apparently they were even automatic toilets. Apparently some emigrants had never used toilets before, said the caption, and so they were automatic to make them easier to use. I thought that was neat; I didn't know they had those back then.
Off to the side was a small recreation of a first-class suite, which I unfortunately didn't get too good a look at. It was grand, I can tell you that. I guess Titanic's accomodations were so good that their second-class lodgings equalled the first-class of contemporary ships. On the way out of that room there were some collections of jewellery, including a ring with its' diamonds still intact, and some buttons and cufflinks from the officers. There was also a pocketwatch in good condition, a nice gold one.
There were a few bottles of wine here on display; one of them, by the looks of it, still had wine inside. It was difficult to tell, but it definitely looked partially full. I know wine gets better with age, but I'm not sure I'd want to drink that. :P
From here on there was another display in another room. This time it was the third-class lodgings, decidedly less luxurious than what we'd just seen. The sounds of the "engine" were pretty much a constant low rumbling, but the accomodations themselves looked pretty good. I mean, you're not dining on lamb and sleeping in a private suite, but this was not horrible looking. Bunk beds, essentially. Granted, I'm probably not one to judge as I'm just looking at a blank and sterile recreation and not the actual thing...but hey, it could have always been worse.
There were a couple more things in here, including a kerosene lamp and a lantern. I know I've said it a million times already, but these were interesting to look at. It's neat to see old technology.
The next room was the engine room. he main attraction was a whole wall made to look like the rows of furnaces, with mirrors around it to create the illusion that they just kept stretching on and on. Trust me, I was completely fooled until I leaned forwards too far and caught sight of my reflection. :P Even then it didn't immediately hit me; I remember thinking "oh, someone else is looking at the furnaces -- wait, that's me!". Dur.
There were more ship parts in here, mostly things having to do with the boiler room. The technology was neat, but I couldn't really make too much sense of it. It was there, that's great, but I don't know how it works so I don't have as much interest in it.
From there we passed into the "North Atlantic" room, so called because, for starters, the walls were made to look like the night sky and there was a giant iceberg there. :P You could touch it too; there was frost on it and it was pretty damn cold. Made worse was the fact that, as the sign pointed out, freshwater freezes at different temperature than saltwater, so the actual ocean was far colder. Most people died of hypothermia, not drowning. I already knew that, but still, that was an unhappy reminder.
There were more things in here that interested me; one was a...thing, and that's the best I can call it, that they used to lower lifeboats. It's huge. As the sign pointed out, there were two arms -- one was in a position that showed a lifeboat had already been lowered; the one closest to us had not been used, and had been recovered that way. I can't remember of it was on the ocean floor or not, though.
And another case of "I can't believe that was preserved"...a man's hat. There's a few holes, of course, and it's not looking the best, but the fact that it was there, largely intact, was amazing. There was also a woman's bracelet there; it was a chain with a diamond-encrusted "Amy" in cursive. Most of the diamonds had fallen off, but that didn't detract from it.
The walls contained banners here, all with quotes from passengers. Some of them were truly saddening, such as this one (paraphrased): "All around me I can hear people yelling 'women and children first!' I know it is designed for my safety, but it has cost me the greatese thing of all: the life of my husband." It was from a woman named Charlotte C, I believe. Good God, that room was almost depressing, and the music didn't help. (There was some bizarre sounds in the background; at the time I didn't know what the hell it was supposed to be, but now I'm guessing it might have been sounds of the ship sinking to the bottom? It was a kind of faint groaning/rumbling noise and was rather eerie).
Along the back wall of this room, on the way to one of the final rooms, were a bunch of small cases, each containing a few personal items. Unlike most everything else, none of them were labelled. I think there was a few more bits of jewellery; I remember seeing a small metal statuette of some dog-like creature, though that didn't look to be any kind of jewellery. No, the biggest thing that stood out here were a pair of glasses.
I am completely serious when I say that they didn't look a day older than the day they were last worn. If they didn't look dated in their design, you probably would have mistook them for being new, that's how well-preserved they were. Also in that particular case was a pipe and what appeared to be a case for the glasses, but it was those glasses that stood out the most, and I can't quite say why.
The next room sought to recreate the look of underwater with fancy lightning and the arrangement of the pieces -- dishes, for example, were neatly stacked in rows, exactly the way they had been found. (They had been in a cabinet, which had, of course, rotted away, leaving the dishes stacked neatly in the sand). There was also a large cooking pot and some cooking utensils, and more ship parts. Along one wall was an overview of how preservation works; I only skimmed it, but it was here I learned that those items I thought should have dissolved? Yeah, apparently, paper, linens, and such, don't rot if they're in something else, like a leather puoch or something. That exaplains it, though it's no less striking to see ninety-five-year old artifacts sitting there intact.
The final room was large; along one wall was the list of passengers divided by class. In this room were more personal artifacts; in some cases names and short bios were listed, but some were not.
Are you keeping track of the "I can't believe that's preserved" file? I hope so, because get ready to add to the list: clothes. To be specific, a man's waistocat and pants, both in a kind of checked pattern. There were also white pajamas and a "manicurist kit", though just the case remained. Again, the clothes were in good condition (no holes or rips, but some stains). There was also a shirt collar in another case. That was fascinating to see.
I remember a little more about this room; most of the artifacts were papers of some kind, mostly postcards or immigration papers. In one case there was an envelope with letter still inside, as well as a beautiful old songbook and a small collection of wooden reeds, partially rotted away. And in a large box was a case belonging to a perfumist (who did not survive, to my knowledge). There was still perfume in the bottles, and there were small holes in the side of the case -- yes, after decades of being underwater, there was still some scent.
Do you remember Kate Florence Phillips from the beginning? I looked on the list of second-class passengers, but due to the size of the damn things, I could only read the names of the deceased clearly, because those were on the bottom. The survivors were on the top, and glare from the lights prevented me from seeing properly. I could not find a Kate Phillips or Kate Marshall under the dead, and eventually my mother found her name among the survivors. :) (Apparently Henry Morley, her boyfriend, went down with the ship).
The rest of my family wasn't so lucky. All their personas were in third-class and all died. Too bad for them. :P
And of course, the whole thing ended on the obligatory gift shop. There were actually some pretty nice things there; they were selling reproduction china and costume jewellery alongside the more conventional t-shirts and trinkets. Of course they sold the 1997 movie, as well as another movie called "Titanic", but made in 1952-53. I had never heard of that one. I looked at the jewellery. There were some nice pieces there -- the main attraction was a necklace that looked like the Heart of the Ocean that was going for thirty bucks. Some of them were pretty pricey -- there was a nice looking choker-ish necklace with a large cross on it that was going for seventy dollars.
They also seemed to keep hawking pieces of coal from the Titanic. It was either in a plaque (with a certificate of authenticity and costing over seventy dollars to boot) or in necklaces and bracelets. I'm not sure why someone would want to own a piece of coal, let alone pay nearly a hundred dollars for it, but that's just me.
After that we wandered around the Science Centre for another hour more, having free run of the place. That place in itself is pretty interesting, even if it's more aimed for children.
All in all, I enjoyed the exhibit; it was a lot more than I expected, and a lot more...personal. I'd go again. ;)