Charles Herbert Lightoller was born on March 30, 1874 in Chorley, Lancashire, England. It was the beginning of a life that would be filled with tragedy, adventure, and incredible luck. Charles Lightoller was blessed with good health early in life, but sadly his mother was not so lucky. She suffered from complications in child birth, and several other debilitating illnesses, and passed away exactly one month after Charles was born. Soon after this, tragedy struck the Lightoller family again. His grandfather and sister died unexpectedly, just a few weeks after his mother. This left Charles’ father to raise the family by himself. Lightoller’s father managed to handle the responsibility well for a brief period of time, but then the pressures of single parenthood and managing the foundering family business caught up with him. One morning he got up, packed his bags, and moved to New Zealand. Charles would never forgive his father for abandoning them. The children were left in the care of their aunt and uncle, neither of whom wanted the responsibility. The aunt was always telling the children that they were troublemakers, and that she should not be the one having to trouble herself with raising them.

Charles Lightoller was an adventurous boy, with a knack for antics which frequently got him-and his siblings- in trouble. When it came time for Lightoller to enter the working world, he decided he did not want to be stuck working in a factory or warehouse for the rest of his life, like his friends and relatives were. His adventurous and free spirit was leading him right towards a career at sea, a choice which was condoned by his family who hoped that a career in the merchant marine would "knock some sense into him".

In February 1888, when Lightoller turned 13, he began his four year apprenticeship at sea. His first voyage at sea was in a four-masted, 2,500 ton barque, Primrose Hill, who was bound for San Francisco via Cape Horn. Although Charles greatly enjoyed life at sea after an initial bout of seasickness, he found it far harder than he had ever imagined. Soon, the motto of 'grumble you may, go you must' became words he lived by, and he grew accustomed to this new difficult lifestyle. Living and working with the other boys of the half deck, he found his niche and both figuratively and literally learned the ropes. It was during this period that he discovered that he had quite an ear for music, and became quite proficient at playing the banjo. He also earned the nickname 'Lights', and requests of "Play another one for us, Lights!" became commonplace. Sometime late in this first voyage the ship was blown far off course and found herself surrounded by ice near the south pole. Consequently,he saw an iceberg for the first time in his life. In retrospect, this provides an ominous bit of foreshadowing to the events that would occur 24 years later.

The next ship that Lightoller served aboard was the windjammer Holt Hill. The voyage started off smoothly, but that was just the calm before the storm, literally. Holt Hill encountered a storm in the South Atlantic, and her main mast was sheared off by the high winds. The crew managed to nurse the vessel into Rio de Janeiro, but they arrived in the middle of a political revolution and an outbreak of small pox and malaria. The crew decided that the quicker they made repairs and set sail, the better. Makeshift repairs were made, and they were soon back out to sea. It is safe to assume that they were not of the best quality, considering how quickly the crew set sail and left Rio de Janeiro.

Several weeks later, Holt Hill was heavily damaged again in a storm in the Indian Ocean. Holt Hill, disabled and drifting, ran aground on a four and a half mile island called St. Paul. The Chief Mate was killed in the accident, and several others were injured. The survivors of the accident would be stranded on the uninhabitable island for eight days before being rescued. Just as their supply of fresh water was running out, a vessel, Coorong, noticed them and picked them up. Coorong took Lightoller and the rest of the survivors to Adelaide, Australia. The ship pulled into port on Christmas day, 1889, and Lightoller quickly developed a fondness for the Australian lifestyle and climate. He became determined to stay in Australia and make the most of it, but pressures from his employer eventually forced him to sign on with Duke of Abercorn, a clipper ship, so that he could return to England. Luckily, the return voyage went much smoother than the previous one aboard Holt Hill.

Lightoller’s third voyage was aboard Primrose Hill, the same ship that he had begun his career at sea in. During the voyage, the ship survived a close encounter with a cyclone without serious damage. Upon the ship's arrival in Calcutta, India, Lightoller- who was 'out of his time'-sat for his first Board of Trade examination so that he could obtain his Second Mate’s certificate. He acquired this with little trouble, and was very eager to return to sea, despite the run of bad luck he had been having.

His next post was aboard the windjammer Knight of St. Michael, on which Lightoller served as Third Mate. Bound for the Nitrate Coast of South America, Lightoller had hoped for an uneventful voyage, but it was not to be. One night, the hold full of coal ignited, starting a dangerous fire below deck. Lights took charge of the situation, and the crew managed to get the fire out before it spread to the rest of the ship. His Captain recommended him for promotion because of his efforts, and he was soon achieved the rank of Second Mate.

In 1895, Lightoller obtained his First Mate’s certificate. Despite the fact that loved sailing ships, he realized that it was time to advance his career. He joined the African Royal Mail Service so that he could sail aboard steamships. His three years spent in the mail service were relatively uneventful when compared with his previous experiences at sea while in sail, but seemingly his bad luck continued to follow him. After nearly drowning off Grand Bassam on the Ivory Coast, he contracted a nearly fatal case of malaria. His temperature soared to 106 degrees, and his shipmates feared for his life. After bundling him in blankets and administering copious doses of quinine, the fever finally relinquished its hold on the young officer and he slowly began to recover.

After nearly drowning and contracting malaria, Lightoller had begun to give serious reconsideration to his career choice. The sea was doing nothing to further his goal of becoming wealthy, and his bout with malaria had soured him on his initial choice. After he had returned to England and was debating what course of action to take, he spied an advertisement in a local newspaper. 'Join the gold rush!' the headline screamed. Lightoller read the article and became determined to do just that. Ignoring other articles which foretold of widespread death and famine in the Yukon, he sold his uniforms and nautical equipment and set sail again- this time as a passenger bound for Canada at the cheapest fare he could find, promising himself that if he failed in his gold-seeking endeavour that he would return home to England.

After arriving in Montreal he took a train to Edmonton, the "perfect route to the goldfields". He partnered up with another seaman, bought the necessary supplies and a horse, and set off northward into the wilderness. Although it was still winter, the two men didn't intend to let any obstacles stand between them and their waiting-to-be-discovered wealth. Eventually another small group of prospectors joined them, and Lightoller soon found himself as the leader of the expedition.

In the end, cold, hunger, and the instinct for survival won out over their ambitions, and they slowly made their way back to Edmonton. With a week's hike left before them before reaching town, their food supply ran out and the men found themselves eating the bark from pine trees in order to survive. They eventually did stagger into Edmonton, emaciated with starvation and certainly none the richer for their adventure. Lightoller owned the clothes on his back, a horse named Rufus, and 3 cents.

A brief time later found him tearing about the Canadian prairie, rounding up cattle. The seaman-prospector had now become a cowboy. Lightoller used this time to ponder the situation he had gotten himself into, and trying to foresee what the future would hold for him. He kept coming back to the promise he had made to himself before leaving England, and had to admit that he did indeed fail in his quest for immediate wealth. Never a man to break a promise, he had no choice but to head back home.

Getting back home was easier said than done though; Lightoller was broke. He sold his horse, receiving a pittance for the loyal animal, and discovered that he still did not have enough money to buy a ticket back to the coast. He soon caught a train to Winnipeg, but not as a paying customer. The sailor turned prospector turned cowboy had now added the credential of hobo to his rapidly growing list.

Upon arriving in Winnipeg, Lightoller found that for a change luck was with him- he'd arrived just before the beginning of an international festival. He soon gained employment helping to erect and paint the various stands that would be needed for the exhibitions. Abstaining from all alcohol and saving every penny, he soon managed to scrape together enough money to buy a ticket to Montreal. He was one step closer to home.

He found a ship bound for Liverpool, and quickly secured a job. Not as an officer, or even an ordinary seaman, but as a cattleman. It appeared that his weeks of cowboying out on the open range had been good for something. Working a cattle boat was not the choicest of jobs for a former steamship officer, but it was a ticket home.

A little over twelve months after sailing to Canada, Lightoller found himself back in Liverpool. Having sold his uniforms and all of his nautical equipment, he possessed only the buckskins on his back, his hat, and his banjo. Having no place else to go, he went to the local sailor's home. There he bathed, slept, and gave serious consideration to his future.

Turning his sights back to the sea, Lightoller picked up the threads of the career he had left behind. He obtained his Master’s Certificate almost immediately, and returned to sea as the Third Mate of the cattle ship Knight Companion of the Greenshields, Cowie Line. It was at this time that his malaria came back with a vengeance. He loaded himself up with quinine, and his fever raged on for days before finally breaking. Fortunately, this was the last time it would recur.

Deciding that life on a cattle boat was not where his future lie, in 1900 Lightoller joined the White Star Line. His first assignment was as the Fourth Officer of the 12,000 ton Medic, on the Britain-South Africa-Australian run. It was on this first voyage that Lightoller pulled a prank that is still reknowned in Sydney to this day, and threatened to put a rapid end to his career with the White Star Line.

While messing around one day in a small boat, Lightoller and some friends noticed the stone walls of Fort Denison on a small island in the middle of the Sydney Harbor. The Fort was originally built to protect the harbor against invasion, and it was equipped with many guns, one of which dwarfed the others and immediately captured Lightoller's attention. Unable to resist a bit of mischief, Lightoller and his cohorts set about laying secret plans to sneak into the fort one night and fire off the large gun.

While still in the planning stages, the plot thickened with the idea of raising the Boer flag at the fort. The young men figured that this would be a perfect touch, as the Boers (then at war with the British Empire) and Australia were great foes. They pooled their money, bought the supplies they would need, and secretly set about crafting a Boer flag from a bedsheet.

Photographer: Inger Sheil

Weeks later, on the appointed night, Lightoller and the other men set out in a leaky boat for the fort. After using a rope to climb up the side, Lightoller and one of his comrades immediately set about preparing the gun for the "One Gun Salute" while the third partner in crime raised the newly crafted Boer flag. Lights finished up his work at the gun, waited for his shipmates to make it back to the small boat, and lit the fuse.

The fuse began to burn- much more rapidly than the young officer had anticipated. He scrambled back down the wall and into the waiting boat, only to be confronted with dismal news. The wash from a passing ship had smashed the tiny craft against the rocks and holed it. Despite the frantic bailing by his two shipmates, she was still taking on water and was half full.

Desperate to get back to their ship before they were caught, Lightoller ordered the two men to row like mad as he ripped off his shirt and stuffed it into the large hole in the boat, trying in vain to stem the flooding. At the time, Sydney Harbor was shark infested, and it is no doubt that thoughts of these sharks spurred the young men along with greater urgency. At last they made it to the shore and abandoned their rapidly sinking mode of transport, mystified that the gun hadn't yet gone off.

The trio dashed through the Domain, through the gardens and grounds of Government House, and finally arrived back at Circular Quay where Medic was docked. Disappointed and convinced that something had gone wrong and their great "One Gun Salute" had been a dud, they were all startled by a blinding flash of light. Seconds later an enormous explosion shook the ground beneath their feet. They had done it!

The three young men cheered and crowed with delight, slapping each other on the back and tossing their caps up in the air. It suddenly dawned on them that perhaps they'd best pipe down a bit, as they certainly didn't want to be identified as the perpetrators of the great stunt.

Sydney, Australia found itself in a state of shock, having had their nighttime slumber shattered by the explosion and discovering the dreaded Boer flag flying proudly from their fort. It was the talk of the town, with everyone venturing guesses as to who could have pulled such a prank. As Medic sailed out of Sydney Harbour some days later, it was still the main topic of discussion, and they still had no answers.

Word leaked out, and Lightoller decided to write out his letter of resignation before he was dismissed from the White Star Line. Soon, he found himself in the office of the line's Superintendent, Captain Hewitt. Hewitt took Lightoller to task, roaring with disapproval and pointing out that what he had done could be considered an act of treason. At some length, Captain Hewitt calmed down and announced that for the record he would need to know Lightoller's version of events. Having nothing to lose, he told his story, beginning with the idea's conception and going all the way up until the blinding flash of light and earth-shaking explosion.

At this point, the normally staid and gruff Captain Hewitt burst out laughing. As tears of mirth rolled down the older man's cheeks, he deliberately took Lightoller's resignation in hand and ripped it to shreds. He concluded the interview by roaring, "Get out and get back to your ship!" Lightoller wasted no time in obeying the order, thankful to still be gainfully employed. As he walked out the door and stepped out onto James street, he could still hear Hewitt chuckling.

However, the White Star Line decided that perhaps it wouldn't be wise to send the young officer back to Australia just yet, and he was transferred to the Atlantic run aboard another vessel for a brief period of time. Upon returning to Medic and the Britain-South Africa-Australia run, Lightoller met his future wife Sylvia Hawley-Wilson. She had a foot deformity that made it difficult for her to walk long distances, so Lightoller helped her around the ship during the entire voyage. Charles and Sylvia fell in love, and by the time Medic completed its return voyage to Britain, the two were married. They would go on to have five children together: Roger, Trevor, Mavis, Doreen, and Brian.

Lightoller spent most of his career with the White Star Line aboard Medic and Majestic, under the command of Captain Edward J. Smith. While serving aboard Medic, Lightoller also met his long-time colleague and friend William McMaster Murdoch. Lightoller had a very high opinion of both. He wrote a particularly flattering passage about Captain Smith in his book “Titanic and Other Ships”:

“Captain Smith, or “E. J.” as he was familiarly and affectionately known, was quite a character in the shipping world. Tall, full whiskered, and broad. At first sight you would think to yourself, “Here’s a typical Western Ocean Captain.” “Bluff, hearty, and I’ll bet he’s got a voice like a foghorn.” As a matter of fact, he had a pleasant, quiet voice and invariable smile. A voice he rarely raised above a conversational tone-not to say he couldn’t; in fact, I have heard him bark an order that made a man come to himself with a bump. He was a great favorite, and a man any officer, myself included, would give his ears to sail under.”

After leaving Majestic, Lightoller was promoted to Third Officer and served aboard the 17,000 ton Oceanic. Oceanic had long been considered the pride of the White Star Line. In his later years, Lightoller stated that Oceanic was his favorite post. While aboard Oceanic, Lightoller served with Herbert John John Pitman and James Paul Moody, both of whom he would serve with while aboard Titanic.

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