Alfred Charles Shiers was an Able Seaman on the Titanic.
Background[]
Alfred Charles Shiers’ life began at Devonport, as he was received by Alfred Charles Shiers and Mary Ann Mallett. Alfred senior originated from Devonport and had lived in Tottenham in London before marrying Mary Ann, who was raised in Upper Arley, Staffordshire. On the 11th of June, 1886, their son Alfred Charles. In 1884, an older sibling saw the light: Margaret Ellen. She was the sister of Maudie Jane, who stemmed from 1885. With the happiness of having a son and daughter, moarning came when Maudie had passed away in the same year that Alfred appeared. Alfred’s other brothers and sisters were younger. Frederick Frederick James was added to the family in 1888. Michael Patrick became their third son in 1890. There was also Richard John, showing up in 1894 but the family experienced grief once more, as he had already ceased to exist in 1896. The expansion of the family continued nonetheless and welcomed Jessie Norah in 1898. As a namesake of his deceased brother, another Richard John finalized the off-spring in 1900.
Alfred junior was tailor-made for the seas as he traded the mainland for the waterfront around the early 1900s and was busy as a longshoreman. By then, he, his mother and siblings were present in Southampton. In 1901, he began taking jobs on the liners, doing 11 years, some with the Union Castle Company and others with the Royal Mail Company.
Titanic[]
It was April 6, in Southampton, when Alfred agreed to labor as a Fireman for the Maiden Voyage of the RMS Titanic. On April 10, in Southampton, a large crowd had gathered at the docks to see Titanic off and have a last meeting with their loved ones who would sail on the gigantic ship. Alfred was 25 years old, one of at least 50 men that were put on the second watch, which lasted between 4:00 A.M-8:00 A.M. as well as 4:00 P.M.-8:00 P.M. This group would have accomodations on the starboard side on D-Deck.
On April 14, later in the night, Titanic was steaming through an icefield and was 400 miles southwest of Cape Race in Newfoundland. The elements of this part of the Atlantic Ocean were kind to Titanic, but not forever. The seas and winds were so still, that they would not betray the sign of an upcoming iceberg directly in her path. It was 11:39 P.M. when her looksout had to alert the wheelhouse for a large iceberg that was now straight in front of her. The mighty steamer had to be turned to port quickly and her large pace, close to her topspeed, had to be diminished, making sure it wouldn’t collide bow-on. They were successful at this, but they would’ve been better off if they had rammed it. Now, Titanic’s starboard side scrubbed against the mass instead. A surge of water manifested itself in her interior through small openings and dints.
Not on his working hours, Alfred was still awake in the Firemen’s Cabin and studied a text when he became conscious of a tremble that went through the ship, a short of vibration. In a calmy manner, he left the crew’s quarters and looked around on the Forecastle, then going down to C-Deck but he didn’t discover anything noteworthy, until he could still catch a glimpse of the iceberg as he stood on the Forward Well Deck, which was partly covered in ice chunks. Having wandered around a few more times, he revisited the Firemen’s berths and needed to help someone. A colleague of his had his toe cut so he needed to be brouht to the medical room. But there was no medic so he brought the hurt fellow to the aft part via Scotland Road, before going to the forecastle backwards and forwards. With nothing inside, he could hear air hissing through Hatch 1, along with the sound of water seeping in slowly. He ran about back and forth to the Forecastle, first to get his coat, later to fetch a lifebelt, to not find one.
At midnight, on April 15, Titanic’s designer, Thomas Andrews, made the captain aware that the damage on the watertight compartments would sink her. One order came down to go up to the boats and Alfred displaced himself to the Boat Deck. Alfred had laid eyes on the boat crew’s list earlier in the afternoon on the 14th, so he knew now that he had to head to lifeboat 3. An interesting account from him at the British Inquiry was that he saw an Engineer post the list on the door that led to the spaces underneath the Forecastle, right after lunch. However, nothing was going on at boat 3 so he made himself useful at lifeboat 7 instead, before being requested to take a seat in lifeboat 5 at an oar, when an Officer sung round for rowers. At 12:28 A.M, lifeboat 5 was launched, half-full according to Alfred's later testimony.
Shiers looked on as Titanic went down. Head down, her aft parts up, The Titanic’s stern underwent a massive amount of stress from her strance and was dislogdged from the forward section with a lot of noise. Alfred however could later not remember that she did break. She had vanished from view at 2:20 A.M. Most of those still onboard at the time, were dropped into freezing waters. Hundreds and hundreds of people were dead within half an hour. The wailing noises of those perishing were certainly heard by Alfred, who could call himself a survivor.
After the sinking[]
The Cunard steamer RMS Carpathia raced through the night to attend to the disaster. She had picked up RMS Titanic’s distress calls. She came into view at 4:00 P.M. The people in the lifeboats were cheering and finding new hope as soon as she saw her light get closer. Boat 5, with at least 12 other boats, were were picked up by the Carpathia. Carpathia delivered her human cargo to the docks of New York on the 18th.
On May the 9th, he was given some questions to answer, by the Board of Trade. They had reserved the Scottish Drill Hall in London for this occassion.
Later life[]
Alfred didn’t have an official partner in his later life, while he kept connected to the seas, still active in the 1920s.
On February 12th, 1946, the last could be seen of Alfred Charles Shiers. A bad long desease had felled him at 59 years of age.