| It was into this environment that James Paul Moody, fourth child of John Henry and Evelyn Louise Moody, was born in a house in a pleasant middle class suburb on August 21, 1887. Nothing at the outset marked him for a career at sea. His family background was solidly middle class professional, with strong links to the practices of law and medicine. Law, in particular, was the province of the Moodys, and John Henry was a solicitor. The Moodys had hailed from Grimsby, to the south in Lincolnshire, and the Scarborough offshoot of the family had been established by James' grandfather, who became clerk of the town. Involvement in civic affairs continued with James' father, a town councilor. |  Photographer: Monika Simon |
| Scarborough had much to interest a bright and intelligent boy such as James. The remains of the 12th Century castle that still overlook the town today no doubt engaged his interest and imagination. And beyond that was the sea, which had once so dominated local industry and which still provided a livelihood for many townspeople, not to mention recreation for holidaymakers from all over England.
While it was law to which at least one of his brothers looked for a career, at the age of 14 James Moody left the town where he had been born to train as a ship's officer.
After learning the theory and practice of sail he was engaged to serve an apprenticeship on a full-rigged, steel and iron hulled ship registered out of Liverpool. A career in the navy, army or merchant marine was traditionally the recourse for dealing with the second or third son of a professional or aristocratic English family, and in James Moody's case there is no suggestion that he was reluctant to follow this career route. Indeed, indications are that he was enthusiastic and conscientious as well as talented in his role as a merchant marine officer
The lot of an apprentice was by no means an easy one- the 1906 Merchant Shipping Acts would bring substantial amendments to the provisioning, health and accomodation of the crew (including the introduction for the first time of a food scale), but these were not implemented until after Moody had served his apprenticeship. The quality of the food deteriorated on longer voyages, and the accomodations were cramped and unpleasant. A description from the turn of the century illustrates the conditions under which young apprentices lived:
I asked if we might see the half deck, where the apprentices berthed. The man thrust open a scuttle on the booby hatch, abaft the mainmast, and going down some steep iron stairs I found myself in a sort of morgue eight feet square with stretchers for four corpses. I was shocked at the smallness and the darkness. I knew already, that in big seas that part of a modern ship was often under water; and I could not understand what kept the boys there from being drowned or suffocated. If the scuttle were open, the berth would fill to the brim; if the scuttle were shut neither light nor air could enter. I asked the caretaker about this. He said: "They did all right"
Moody's family paid a bond to his employers, and he served several years of indentured service to the Liverpool-based line with which he shipped. While ashore, he was given a small allowance to spend. David Roberts, a master mariner writing later of this period, would speak of "...the young brass-bounders, whose lot was so rough by comparison with that of their prototypes, the steam-ship cadets of today. He had a hard time of it, the apprentice in sail. The wonder is that he seems to look back on it, for all its hardships, as the nearest approach he has ever known to paradise."
While Moody served out his apprenticeship in one of the better ships sailing from Liverpool, the voyages were long and arduous, taking him from home for many months at a time. There were, however, the usual inducements to a sea-faring career- exotic ports and far away lands, and the wonders of the ocean itself, from the cold northern seas to the tropical latitudes where the flying fish leapt away from the prow of the ship, startled out of the water. He would travel around the globe, visiting ports in South America and the far Pacific. By the time he entered his twenties, James Moody had seen more than most land-bound men would in a lifetime.
After passing his second mate's certificate and serving one more voyage in sail, Moody turned to the future of his profession- steamships. April 1911- a year to the month before the Titanic disaster- found him with his first mate's certificate and briefly established in London, studying at the Edward VII Nautical School for his master's examination. He passed the grueling tests and, at the age of 23, was certified as a master mariner.
Having established his qualifications- attaining his masters, spent time in sail, and also possessing the desirable attribute of a commission in the Royal Naval Reserve- Moody joined the White Star Line and was assigned to the prestigious and popular RMS Oceanic. Future prospects for the ambitious officer looked bright.
The young Yorkshireman was ideal White Star material. Quite tall, and with a slender build and bearing that gave the impression of even greater height, he was noted for his impeccable grooming. "A smart-looking young man" was one contemporary description. Photos confirm his meticulous appearance and handsome features, but also give a rather serious caste to his expression that is not reflected in the light playfulness of his private correspondence.
In spite of the long absences at sea since he had started his career, he remained close to the extensive Moody family network. Although a frequent visitor to the family home in Scarborough, he chose Grimsby as his permanent shore address. Traditionally a fishing town, this port on the Humber was a family stronghold. Throughout his career James used two shore addresses there, one belonging to his brother (a legal clerk at the time of the Titanic disaster) and the other St. James House, an impressive residence in the center of town that had once belonged to his great-uncle Charles Bartholomew Moody, the town's first coroner. James lived there with his aunt and uncle, who was a partner in a firm of solicitors that still exists today.
Moody's time on Oceanic was a happy one for him. She had long been highly regarded, and in many ways was one of the White Star Line and ship builder Harland and Wolff's greatest collaborations. Oceanic, the second White Star Line ship to bear the name, had made her debut on the North Atlantic run in 1899. Some 705 feet long and 17,274 tons, she was capable of speeds in excess of 20 knots. She had a graceful and elegant two funnel profile that made her a thing of beauty and her innovative comfort in passenger accomodation made her enduringly popular, right up to her loss in the first World War when she was run aground in the Shetland Islands.
Fellow officers such as Charles Lightoller would always cherish a deep affection for the ship and remember the camaraderie among her officers. David Blair, one of Moody's seniors, became something of a friend and mentor to the young man as he settled into the routine of trans-Atlantic voyages to New York.
It was with somewhat mixed feelings, then, that Moody received word of his posting to the new White Star Liner Titanic. As Sixth Officer he received no rise in pay or rank (he was paid £8.10 a month). However, being attached to the bridge crew of the largest, most luxurious ship of her day did have its advantages in prestige.
He received a telegram from the White Star Marine Superintendent ordering him to report with his fellow junior officers to the White Star Line offices in Liverpool on March 26, 1912, at 9.00 am to collect his ticket to Belfast where the new ship awaited her sea trials. Moody, Third Officer Herbert John Pitman, Fourth Officer Joseph Groves Boxhall and Fifth Officer Harold Godfrey Lowe made the journey from Liverpool to Belfast overnight, arriving in the Irish city sometime around 10.00 am on March 27. At noon they reported to Chief Officer William Murdoch aboard the Titanic.
|
