In James Cameron’s film Titanic, there’s a deleted scene where a crew member, played by Irish actor Liam Touhy, is seen, bottle in hand and half drunk, tossing deck chairs into the sea so that passengers without spots in the insufficient lifeboats could stay afloat while waiting for rescue. This actually happened; it was the head baker, who had previously refused to save himself by getting into one of the lifeboats, and is considered the last survivor to leave the ship. His name was Charles John Joughin.

He was born into a family of four siblings and two half-siblings in 1878, on Patten Street, a street in Birkenhead, a town in the metropolitan borough of Wirral, Merseyside, which until 1974 was part of Cheshire County. It’s located on a peninsula on the western bank of the River Mersey, surrounded by the so-called Great Float, a body of water formed by a natural tidal inlet, where two large docks were situated. In 1879, the Resurgam, one of the first Victorian-era submarines powered by a steam engine, was tested there (it eventually sank; a replica decorates the spot today).

One could say Joughin was destined for a seafaring profession. Not only because of the environment in which he was born but also because his father, John Edwin, who was married to nurse Ellen Crombleholme and worked as a tax collector, couldn’t prevent his son from joining a ship at just eleven years old, just as two of his brothers had joined the Royal Navy. This was after working in a restaurant for a time (child labor was permitted back then), which is why his duty on board was that of a baker’s apprentice. He climbed the ranks, and after several years, he became head baker for the White Star Line.

Photo of Charles Joughin
Photo of Charles Joughin. Credit: Public domain / Wikimedia Commons

That was the trade name of the Oceanic Steam Navigation Company, one of the world’s most important shipping lines. Joughin served on several ships, such as the Majestic and the Teutonic, but primarily on the RMS Olympic, an ocean liner that was the first of its class, meant to be completed with two sister ships, the RMS Titanic and the HMHS Britannic. However, unlike them, it had a longer operational life (as we’ll see, the first sank on its maiden voyage in 1912, and the second sank after hitting a German mine in 1914). It made its maiden voyage in 1911 and was retired in 1935.

In April 1912, Joughin was assigned to the Titanic as a victualler, responsible for provisioning the ship, making the delivery voyage from Belfast to Southampton. Upon arrival, he signed a new contract as the head baker on board, earning a good salary of twelve pounds per month, which suited him well because, by then, he had already started a family. In 1906, he married Louise Woodward in Liverpool, who was a year younger than him, a native of the Isle of Man, and the daughter of a ship steward. In 1907 and 1909, they had a daughter and a son, named Agnes Lillian and Roland Ernest, respectively.

Joughin had thirteen employees under his command, and he was in his cabin during his rest shift on the fateful night of April 14 when that unexpected iceberg crossed the ship’s path. He recounted that, feeling the impact, he got up and went outside, observing the sailors running around in alarm. It was 11:40 p.m., and half an hour later, when he was finally informed of the situation and learned that lifeboats were being lowered, he gathered his subordinates and instructed them to bring provisions in bags to load onto the boats.

One of the few photos showing the Olympic (left) and the Titanic (right) together
One of the few photos showing the Olympic (left) and the Titanic (right) together. Credit: Public Domain / Wikimedia Commons

Specifically, he assigned four large loaves of bread to each lifeboat, which weighed about eighteen kilos in total, considering that each loaf weighed forty pounds. He was the one preparing that equipment in the bakery, but at 12:30 a.m., he also went up on deck because his help was needed for something more urgent: the lowering operation. A dozen operators were needed for each boat, as the electric winches weren’t working, fresh paint jammed the handles, and the sailors lacked experience with this type of operation.

In that task, Joughin was under the orders of Henry Tingle Wilde, chief officer, lowering lifeboat number 10. It had sixty-five seats, but not all were filled; the exact number is unclear, with estimates ranging between thirty and fifty-seven passengers, of whom nine were from first class, fifteen from second, and six from third, in addition to four crew members to handle the oars. That limited occupancy was a constant across all boats, although the truth is that, in any case, the Titanic only had lifeboats for a third of the passengers; and even then, they had four more than what the law required.

The person in charge of lifeboat 10 was supposed to be the first officer, William McMaster Murdoch, who was on duty when the collision occurred and who, ironically, in 1903 had saved the SS Arabic from a collision with another ship by disobeying his superior’s orders, in a display of cold blood. However, Murdoch did not board it because he stayed behind trying to free a collapsible lifeboat and was swept away by the water when the bridge collapsed (some witnesses claimed he had committed suicide), so veteran seaman Edward Buley was appointed to command.

Titanic’s planned route and wreck location
Titanic’s planned route and wreck location. Credit: Ziko van Dijk / Wikimedia Commons

Lifeboat 10, one of the last to reach the water, was the scene of some of the most dramatic moments: a young French woman tried to jump onto it from the deck and almost fell into the gap that separated it from the tilted hull of the Titanic; another man forcibly climbed aboard during the descent; a couple of stowaways appeared inside; and two of the sailors transferred to lifeboat 14 to help with the later rescues. Assisted by stewardesses, Joughin had guided several female passengers and children to the deck, but once there, many refused to board because they believed it was safer to stay on the ship, so the baker had to force them; he even picked up children and threw them inside.

In fact, Joughin himself had been assigned to take command of the lifeboat, although he refused, considering that it already had enough crew members (two sailors and a steward) and that it would not set a good example. Therefore, having completed his task, he returned to his cabin and poured himself a glass of whiskey. Then he went out and on the stairs met someone he later referred to as the “old doctor”, probably William O’Loughlin, who was never seen again. Wandering through the corridors with a bottle in hand, he went back to the deck, where he helped evacuate the last women from the ship.

He then returned to his cabin, and when the floor began to flood, he went back outside. There were no more lifeboats, and many people were still aboard the Titanic, who logically would end up in the water; that’s when he began throwing all the wooden deck chairs and loungers he could find—around fifty—overboard so that the survivors, including himself shortly, could cling to them and use them as floats. He then went to the pantry on deck A to drink some water. While there, he heard a terrifying crack; the hull of the liner had just split in two, and the bow half sank.

Another work by Charles Dixon for The Graphic showing the final moment, when only the stern remained above water. Joughin would have been clinging to the top
Another work by Charles Dixon for The Graphic showing the final moment, when only the stern remained above water. Joughin would have been clinging to the top. Credit: Internet Archive Book Images / Wikimedia Commons

Like many passengers still on board, Joughin ran toward the stern while what remained of the ship tilted violently to port, throwing several people into the sea, who slid down the deck like a giant slide or simply fell from the top over the side of the hull. He managed to hold onto the railing and was left hanging outside, still on board. However, the stern gradually became vertical as it sank, and finally, at 2:20, it rapidly submerged as well. The Titanic had gone down for good.

The baker said that at that final moment, he felt like he was falling down an elevator shaft but that, nevertheless, he slid into the water gently, without being sucked down by the ship, to the point that his head barely got wet. He is considered the last to leave the ship—or at least the last known survivor—because he would have made contact with the sea at the same time the stern disappeared below it.

According to his statement, he managed to stay afloat for two hours and avoided freezing thanks to the generous amount of alcohol he had consumed and continued drinking, as he had two bottles of whiskey with him. It’s a controversial account and considered fanciful by many because, generally speaking, drinking doesn’t reduce the risk of hypothermia; it actually increases it. However, it seems that in some cases it can slow the loss of body heat, and the baker would be one of those exceptions. Perhaps his short stature also helped, as he was barely over five foot three.

Sailors from the Mackay-Bennett, the ship tasked with recovering the bodies of the deceased, found the collapsible lifeboat B
Sailors from the Mackay-Bennett, the ship tasked with recovering the bodies of the deceased, found the collapsible lifeboat B. Credit: Public domain / Wikimedia Commons

Be that as it may, as dawn began to break, Joughin spotted one of the four collapsible Engelhardt lifeboats, the B. Manufactured in Scotland under a Danish patent, they were made of canvas with a frame of ceiba wood and cork, which made them initially unsinkable. However, the B was floating adrift upside down because it had capsized when it was lowered just minutes before the ship’s hull broke apart — it had been hanging from the davits, and the cables had to be cut. As a result, about thirty passengers had to climb on top, and their weight was compressing the air pocket underneath, increasing the risk of capsizing. That’s why Joughin was prevented from climbing aboard.

The same thing had already happened to many other shipwrecked passengers, but the baker was fortunate that among the makeshift survivors was his friend Isaac Maynard, a cook, who reached out and helped him hold on to the side without fully climbing up, his legs in the water. The man in charge, Second Officer Charles Lightoller, raised no objections, and shortly afterward, they saw one of the wooden boats, number 12, approaching, with only half its capacity. Joughin and Maynard swam to it, and then they continued picking up people until it was filled with sixty-nine passengers.

Boat number 12 was the last to be rescued by the RMS Carpathia, a transatlantic liner from the rival Cunard Line that had responded to the Titanic’s SOS and began rescue operations around 4:00, two hours after the sinking. It took four hours to complete, and boat 12 was recovered at 8:15. When hoisted aboard, Joughin couldn’t climb the ladder or walk, having to do so on his knees; his feet were swollen after being in the freezing water for so long, although he wouldn’t lose them or suffer severe long-term effects.

Titanic's 12th boat hoisted aboard the Carpathia
Titanic’s 12th boat hoisted aboard the Carpathia. Credit: Public domain / Wikimedia Commons

The Carpathia was bound for Europe, but its captain decided to turn around and return to New York, which was closer, where it arrived on April 18 to a hero’s welcome. Joughin’s brother-in-law had published a notice seeking to find out if he was among the survivors, and that’s how Louise learned that her husband was still alive. When he returned to England, he had to testify, along with other crew members, at the British Wreck Commissioner’s inquiry into the Titanic’s sinking, led by High Court Judge Lord Mersey.

Tough days still lay ahead. He resumed his seafaring life on the Olympic when World War I broke out in 1914, and he became part of the crew of the SS Congress, an American passenger steamer belonging to the Pacific Coast Steamship Company that ran the route between San Francisco and Seattle. In 1916, a fire accidentally broke out in one of the ship’s holds, spreading to the rest of the vessel, which was saved thanks to the captain’s skillful maneuver to beach it. The ship was then evacuated without the loss of a single life. Joughin fell into the water and was picked up by a lifeboat, narrowly escaping death for a second time.

Unfortunately, Louise did not; she died in 1919 during her third childbirth, taking the unborn baby with her. The following year, he emigrated to Paterson, New Jersey, where he showed no fear of the sea, returning to work on a dozen ships for the American Export Lines, a U.S. company that operated cargo and passenger vessels. Once settled in America, in 1925, he married for the second time to Annie Eleanor Howarth Coll (née Ripley), a widow eight years his senior who had a 34-year-old daughter, Rose, from one of her two previous marriages. Five years later, the Titanic survivor became a U.S. citizen.


Poster for the movie A night to remember, adapted from the book of the same name.
Poster for the movie A night to remember, adapted from the book of the same name. Credit: British Pictures

He couldn’t have imagined that in 1941 he would face the sea for a third time. Specifically, it was while serving on the American freighter SS Oregon, which in December was accidentally rammed by the USS New Mexico and sank off the Nantucket Lighthouse. That shipwreck resulted in seventeen deaths, but Charles Joughin’s name wasn’t among them; once again, his will to survive had triumphed over the fatality that usually accompanies his dangerous profession and that seemed determined to pursue him. However, that wasn’t the worst; Annie died in 1943, a loss that deeply affected her husband, whose grief was compounded by the subsequent death of his son Roland, a naval steward.

Joughin retired. In return, he was invited, along with sixty-three other Titanic survivors, to recount his personal ordeal in a chapter of the book A Night to Remember, published in 1955, in which writer Walter Lord narrated how that tragic story unfolded. The work became a genuine bestseller, elevating its author — who had traveled on the RMS Olympic — and two years later, it was adapted into the famous film of the same name, winner of a Golden Globe, in which Joughin is portrayed by George Rose.

But the tough baker didn’t live to see it. The life that iceberg couldn’t take was eventually claimed by something more mundane, pneumonia, after two weeks in Barnert Memorial Hospital. It was December 9, 1956, and on his death certificate, next to his name, his occupation was recorded in a way as laconic as it was implicitly profound: Baker on Titanic.


This article was first published on our Spanish Edition on October 3, 2024: Charles Joughin, el panadero del Titanic que fue el último superviviente en abandonar el barco y dijo haberse salvado por estar bebido


  • Share this article:

Discover more from LBV Magazine English Edition

Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.

Something went wrong. Please refresh the page and/or try again.