Mr. ROBERT JAMES TIMMIS, Saloon Class Passenger
Robert James Timmis was a British cotton dealer who made his headquarters
in Gainesville, Texas, described in Hoehling/Hoehling as "a big, heavy
man." Timmis was returning to
England
for his yearly visit. Travelling with him was colleague Ralph Troupe
Moodie. On the
Lusitania
Timmis' cabin was A-27, adjoining Moodie's room.
Robert Timmis recalled that on the night of Thursday, 6 May, he and Moodie
saw a Greek sea captain (Michael Pappadopoulo?) strap on a lifebelt, climb
into a lifebelt, and sleep there all night. No one was able to persuade
the man to get out. Timmis thought the sight was the funniest thing he
had ever seen.
On the day of the disaster, 7 May, Robert Timmis and Ralph Moodie played
medicine ball and then cooled off with a round of drinks. Afterwards they
went down to the dining saloon to lunch. The band had finished playing
"The Blue Danube" and was now playing "Tipperary." Timmis had just
ordered a second dish of ice cream a few minutes after 2 p.m.
Both Timmis and Moodie had just agreed that they had "plenty of time."
Before Timmis could have his second ice cream, the torpedo struck. He
thought the impact a "penetrating thrust" that had gone all the way
through the ship and come out the other side. Timmis and Moodie
immediately pushed their chairs back (perhaps he meant 'turned to leave,'
as the chairs in the dining saloon were bolted to the deck) and noticed
that the ship had taken a heavy list before they had even left the dining
room.
The two then walked down to their cabins on the port side without feeling
any particular need to hurry. Their cabin was in shambles, the list
having thrown around everything inside. The list was so bad they both had
to help women up the stairs and when Timmis told one to go to the low
side, starboard, she said, "Oh no" and went to the high side. The two then
went up to the starboard side of the boat deck where they helped two
sailors lower a lifeboat of about sixty persons. Next to Timmis was
New York champagne king George Kessler. Kessler was
smoking a cigar and helping women into the boats "in a spirit of
convention." Kessler told Timmis that it was unlikely the
Lusitania
was going to sink.
Looking towards the forward end of the boat deck, Timmis believed he saw
the figure of Captain Turner raising his hand to stop the lowering of the
boats. Even with the engines dead, the momentum of the ship kept the
Lusitania
plunging forward. At that moment, a steward came from the bridge with
orders to stop lowering. Not long after the steward had finished
speaking, there came a crash, screams, and then silence. Timmis saw "with
a strange, stolid objectivity . . . detached from his own existence" a
lifeboat hanging from the falls by one end (Hoehling/Hoehling, 116). One
side had been lowered too quickly, spilling its occupants before reaching
the water.
The ship continued to list heavily as more people, perhaps from steerage,
arrived "in orderly fashion." A second cabin woman, Sarah Lund, pleaded
with him for a lifebelt and he gave her his. A mother with her
six-month-old child and sickly husband then approached Timmis for help, as
if his very bulk could reassure them. Timmis thought that they were third
class passengers, but they might have been the Chantry family from second
cabin. Timmis advised the woman to strap the baby in front of her and
began assistance. Her husband, suffering from tuberculosis then asked
worriedly, "Do you think they will live, sir?"
Timmis then replied bluntly, "I think so, but you won't."
A crowd of steerage passengers now surrounded Timmis. Many of them were
Russian and he could not understand what they were saying. To clam them
down, however, he held up his hand, nodded his head, and then repeated:
"All right, all right!"
The people seemed to understand, and one even kissed Timmis' hand. Robert
Timmis was so astounded at what just happened that he temporarily forgot
that the ship was sinking.
Soon afterward, the order came to empty the boats and that the
Lusitania
was safe. The ship righted herself almost reassuringly. Moodie then
asked Timmis, "How about it, old man?"
Timmis shook his head. He believed the ship to be lost and that the
righting of the ship was caused by water overriding the longitudinal
watertight compartments in larger quantities than before. He decided
against telling the steerage passengers what he believed.
Moodie took off his lifebelt for the sickly man's wife, but they could
jump the
Lusitania
then took her final plunge, dragging Timmis and Moodie down with her. The
whole scene reminded Timmis of Niagara Falls. Timmis went so far down, at
least sixty feet, that the water around him was "black as the inside of a
cow." He did not see the
Lusitania's
final moments. Keeping count of his strokes as he swam up, from where he
was to the surface was exactly thirty-one strokes.
Upon reaching the surface, he was impressed by the calm. He did not hear
a row, "just a sort of hum over the water." He estimated himself to be
roughly 150 yards from most of the wreckage. A boy of ten then floated by
him without a sound. Timmis checked for a heart beat but there was none.
On the horizon Timmis could see another steamer sauntering along, unaware
of the disaster that had just unfolded.
From page 7 of the Monday, 10 May 1915 New York Times: “Both men
gave their lifebelts to steerage women just as the
Lusitania
sank. Timmis, who is a strong swimmer, remained in the water, clinging to
various objects, for nearly three hours. Then he was taken into a boat,
which he still had the strength to assist in rowing.”
While in the lifeboat, he helped assist in pulling other people out of the
water, including Sarah Lund, the second cabin passenger to whom he had
given his lifebelt earlier.
Timmis is listed as being from New York, New York but that is just where
he booked passage. He is named in Hoehling/Hoehling as Robert James
Timmins.
Contributors:
Michael Poirier
Judith Tavares
References:
Hoehling, A. A. and Mary Hoehling. The Last Voyage of the
Lusitania.
Madison Books, 1956.
The New York Times. Monday, 10 May 1915, page 7.
[Back to Saloon Class Manifest] [Lusitania Resource Home]
Mr. RALPH TROUPE MOODIE, Saloon Class Passenger
Ralph Troupe Moodie, of
Gainesville, Texas, was a British cotton dealer travelling with his work
colleague, Robert James Timmis. On the
Lusitania,
Moodie was in cabin A-26, a cabin adjoining Timmis'.
On the night of Thursday, 6 May, Moodie and Timmis saw a Greek sea captain
strap on a lifebelt, climb into a lifebelt, and sleep there all night. No
one was able to persuade the man to get out. Timmis thought the sight was
the funniest thing he had ever seen.
On the day of the disaster, 7 May, Robert Timmis and Ralph Moodie played
medicine ball and then cooled off with a round of drinks. Afterwards they
went down to the dining saloon to lunch. The band was playing "The Blue
Danube" and Timmis had just ordered a second dish of ice cream a few
minutes after 2 p.m. Both Timmis and Moodie had just agreed that they had
"plenty of time."
Before Timmis could have his second ice cream, the torpedo struck. He
thought the impact a "penetrating thrust" that had gone all the way
through the ship and come out the other side. Timmis and Moodie
immediately pushed their chairs back (perhaps he meant 'turned to leave,'
as the chairs in the dining saloon were bolted to the deck) and noticed
that the ship had taken a heavy list before they had even left the dining
room.
The two then walked down to their cabins on the port side without feeling
any particular need to hurry. Their cabin was in shambles, the list
having thrown around everything inside. The list was so bad they both had
to help women up the stairs. While on deck, Ralph Moodie noticed Irene
Paynter had her lifebelt on wrong and adjusted it. The two then went up
to the starboard side of the boat deck where they helped two sailors lower
a lifeboat of about sixty persons.
Some time afterward, the order came to empty the boats and that the
Lusitania
was safe. The ship righted herself almost reassuringly. Moodie then
asked Timmis, who was busy reassuring Russian steerage passengers, "How
about it, old man?"
Timmis shook his head. He believed the ship to be lost but decided
against telling the steerage passengers what he believed. A woman and her
sickly husband then approached with their six-month-old baby. This may
have been the Chantry family from second cabin. Moodie took off his
lifebelt for the wife, but the
Lusitania
then took her final plunge, dragging Timmis and Moodie down
with her.
From The New York Times, Monday, 10 May 1915, page 7: “Moodie sank
when the ship went under, and, although he was a good swimmer, he was not
seen again. Moodie was all ready to jump when Timmis, who previously had
given his belt to a woman, said, ‘There is a steerage woman here with a 6
month old baby.’ Moodie promptly stripped off his lifebelt, but it seemed
both he and the woman perished.”
Contributors:
Judith Tavares
References:
Hoehling, A. A. and Mary Hoehling. The Last Voyage of the
Lusitania.
Madison Books, 1956.
The
New York Times.
Monday,
10 May 1915, page 7.
[Back to Saloon Class Manifest] [Lusitania Resource Home]
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