It's 1237 a.m. on April the 15th, 1912.

The small Cunard liner Carpathia is en route from New York to Gibraltar.

In the wireless room, 21-year-old Marconi operator Harold Cottom is exhausted.

He's been on duty since 7 o'clock in the morning.

Cottom has just returned from the bridge, where he gave his final report of the day to the ship's officers.

Now he's slipping off his work jacket and unlacing his boots, preparing for bed. But he keeps his headphones

on just in case. Like most liners at the time, Carpathia has only one operator. The ship's

wireless communication is not an around-the-clock service.

So when Cotum is off duty or out of the room, any incoming messages go unheeded,

including, this evening, the distress calls broadcast by Titanic,

both the old signal CQD and the brand new SOS. Before he turns in, the young man

decides to do one last good deed for the day. He's overheard the shore station at Cape Cod

struggling to get private messages through to Titanic. Knowing that Carpathia is much closer to the White Star vessel,

he decides to lend a hand.

But when Cotton makes contact with Titanic,

to let them know they have messages waiting,

he gets a lot more than he bargained for.

Come at once, sends Titanic's senior operator Jack Phillips. He gets a lot more than he bargained for.

Come at once, since Titanic's senior operator Jack Phillips, we've struck a burg.

In case Kotem should doubt the severity of the situation, Phillips adds, it's a CQD, old

man, before giving Titanic's last known coordinates.

Cottom is stunned.

...