Luxury liner RMS Titanic sank in the North Atlantic in iceberg filled waters early on April 15, 1912. Destiny intervened on the fateful night. Had she not done so, had destiny slept instead of coming between, then another accident would have occurred, sooner or later, because of man’s laxness of maritime rules and safety, protecting all who sail. Back in that day, men took for granted the sea, assumed that danger lacked any potential because of this “unsinkable” ship, the largest manmade structure on Earth, a fortress to keep man safe no matter what, no matter the blatant arrogance put forth by those who built the ship, and by those who sailed her. Alas, destiny had to prevail, and thus it did; it had no choice, being that only so many lifeboats were on deck, and being that Titanic raced through iceberg filled waters at twenty-two knots, and that radio usage gave priority to private communiques, usurping that of official business, like the position of any icebergs. Arrogance, hubris, a cavalier attitude born of over-confidence based on a ship, God himself could not sink. Destiny had to intervene— she had little choice but to crumple the hull with the berg, and sink her. 40 Lines Writer’s Cramp 9-25-19 |