After luncheon I left the saloon, went to my stateroom and then up on deck and joined the Hubbards on the port side. Immediately after the explosion the ship took a sharp list to the starboard and a decided pitch by the head. You could feel the two separate motions very distinctly. It seemed as if she were going down at once, but then she stopped suddenly as if the sea had met the water-tight bulkheads and she seemed to right herself and even raise her bow a little. This gave me a feeling of security, and I at first thought she would stay afloat. As soon as the ship found herself I looked over the rail and made a mental note as to how far she had rolled out. From the moment we were struck no sense of fear or doubt entered my mind but that I could perfectly well save myself. If she did sink I could step into the water, and I was confident that I could paddle round for several hours until I was rescued. My experience had been such that a few hours more or less in the water made no difference to me, and I didn’t care particularly whether it was a swim in the Irish Sea or Hull Bay. I spoke to the Hubbards, but when they showed no inclination to go to their cabin to get their life jackets I tapped Mr. Hubbard on the shoulder to emphasize the following remark, “If you don’t care to come, stay here and I will get them for you.” It did not take me many minutes to go to my cabin, get several life jackets, which I strung on my arm, take my small leather case which contained my business papers, and return to the spot where I had left the Hubbards. I wish with all my heart that they had waited until I came back. If only they had...! But I must not write about the “ifs” of this catastrophe. They would in themselves make a book larger than the account of the disaster itself. I stood there a few moments hoping the Hubbards would return. I put on to women all but two of the life jackets, for these I felt I should keep for a few moments to see if my friends returned. Passengers were already crowding on the deck, running back and forth, and as I walked aft I saw no officer taking charge of the lowering of any one lifeboat, but there were attempts being made by the crew to lower two or three of the boats. As early as this in the catastrophe there was confusion, and nothing seemed to be done with usual ship’s discipline. If the passengers, when they first came on deck, had found that the officer and the crew of each lifeboat were at their station, waiting or taking orders from the bridge, it would have inspired confidence and saved the immediate confusion; but there was no such discipline. I had walked fore and aft on the deck once or twice, stopping often to help people put on their life jackets correctly, when Captain Turner gave his order not to lower the boats.