Take Me Back to Another Time and Place.

(Contributed by Laurie Smith)

Since Sid broached the subject of time travel and made me the central character of his exposition, I felt it only fair to write a short response.

Everybody wants to be part of something meaningful and grand, and the opportunity to experience a pivotal moment in history would be a huge temptation. Time-wise, the ill-fated journey of the Titanic is a brief event. Would I want to spend four days of my life immersed* in that world? Sure. Being a witness to the Hundred Years War? Not so much.

I figured that being a first class passenger would not only provide one with the best amenities that the White Star line had to offer, but also increase the odds of survival; namely because first class women and children were ushered into the lifeboats sooner rather than later on the night of April 14, 1912. As Sid pointed out though, I might not enjoy the experience – no modern conveniences, no hot stone spa massages and only weird food available (cucumber sandwiches, champagne, candied quail eggs, what have you)….rather than protein powder, chicken wraps and stir fried Chinese vegetables. I wouldn’t have my TRX or laptop with me, and the ship likely did not have a proper gym on board.

Dr. Robert Ballard spearheaded the first successful recovery efforts in 1985. Considering the “twonky” issue, what if I had brought my BlackBerry™ onto the Titanic with me and had kept it hidden, but had lost it when the ship sank? The salvage team in the mid 80s would have been almost as puzzled by it as the passengers from a century ago, had I brought it out at the Captain’s dinner table.

I firmly believe that time travel will forever remain in the realm of fantasy, despite its popularity as a topic in science fiction. H. G. Wells was onto something with his 1895 publication of The Time Machine. Far more possible is the future emergence of a Choose Your Own Adventure trip down memory lane, à la Total Recall. They actually had something like this in the 60s and 70s: back then it was called LSD.

- Laurie

* Mild pun intended

September 1st update:  as it turns out, we are guilty of not performing due diligence in our research.  The Titanic gym was located on the starboard side of the Boat deck, adjacent to the second funnel.  Between the rowing machines, the stationary bikes, and whatever other pieces of steampunk exercise arcana were available, Laurie might be able to get an acceptable workout.  In fact, it might be an unexpected bonus for her to have the opportunity to work out in a Victorian gym, just to see what state of the art was like a hundred years ago.

- Sid

She used to own one of those damn necklaces, too.

I don't know about you, but I intend to write a strongly worded letter to the White Star Line about all of this.

Jack Dawson, Titanic

A recent conversation with Laurie brought up the following question:  if you could travel in time, where (or more accurately when) would you go?

Laurie expressed her desire to travel on the Titanic, with the unexpected codicil that she'd like to be one of the survivors. I can certainly understand wanting to see the Titanic during its heyday, but I'm not sure I'd want to go so far as to experience the accident itself, although I'm relieved to hear that Laurie wouldn't want to go down with the ship. She went on to explain that she'd be a rich heiress, at which point I stopped her. 

"Wait, how would you become a rich heiress in 1912?  From whom would you inherit your riches?"

Travelling back in time and experiencing historical events in person is an interesting idea, and something that I think would appeal to a lot of people, but the practical aspects of arranging that sort of a first person temporal holiday are daunting, to say the least.  I don't object to someone wanting to be a rich heiress - no one wants to travel below the waterline, especially in this case - but how do you introduce participants from the future into a well documented, dead-end scenario like the death of the Titanic?

Let's lay down some ground rules first.  Changing the timeline is completely verboten - no going up to the bridge and holding the crew at gunpoint to make them change course, but even smaller Butterfly Effect changes have to be avoided.

We also want to make sure that there are no twonkies. In the parlance of time travel, a twonky is an anachronistic artifact, like a Coke can in a medieval midden - the name comes from a 1942 short story by Henry Kuttner and C. L. Moore.  Avoiding possible twonkies in this situation is especially important because we already know that James Cameron is going to be all over the place in a submersible with an Imax camera less than a hundred years later.  So, Laurie, my apologies, but just to be safe, no iPod. No iPod, no earbuds, no camera, no bottled water, no protein bars, no pantyhose, no running shoes, no Tylenol, no tampons, no hand sanitizer:  roughing it, in other words.

The passenger list of the Titanic is a known historical fact, which either already includes Laurie's name (indicating that she makes the trip into the past from her future timeline) or does not.  But even if she's not on the list, that doesn't mean that she can't go.  Because we know who was on the ship, Laurie could just find someone with a ticket*, whack them on the back of the head, and take their place.

That might actually be the best option, given the difficulties of laying hands on sufficient legal tender for the time period to allow for a ticket purchase.  A top of the line First Class Parlor Suite on the Titanic weighed in at £870, or $4,350**, which is a lot of antique money to find, let along buy. Alternatively, you could haul a big stack of gold back in the time capsule and sell it in 1912, but given that the price of gold in 1912 was about $21, you'd need to take about 210 ounces of gold - that's about $350,000 in today's market.

Other options include counterfeiting the money, or even just making a preliminary trip and robbing a few banks, but again, it's important to avoid making ripples in the time stream.

However, a little research reveals that although there are several Smiths on the ship, they all appear to be married couples rather than heiresses.  (There are also a couple of Trouts, but that's an inside joke.)  So if Ms. Smith is going to be on the Titanic, it's either under an assumed name, or as a stowaway.

Being a stowaway is an interesting solution, in that it avoids all of the issues with passenger lists and money and so forth.  On the other hand, you have to find a place to sleep without being noticed, and discretion is equally important while exploring the ship.  After all, it would be a very bad thing to be locked in the brig without your time travel ticket when the ship started to sink.

This is all based on the assumption that Ms. Smith is the only person who would want to add the ultimate cruise experience to her resumé.  As previously discussed, easy access to time travel allows an infinite number of visitors to arrive at Shakespeare's childhood home if they so wish. Similarly, everyone who has ever or would ever want to be on the Titanic has to show up during that narrow four day window. The joke is that eventually the entire Titanic passenger list would consist of time travelling visitors rather than any of the actual people who originally bought the tickets.***

And me?  Oh, I wanted to see the Beatles in concert in 1965.  A modest ambition, I realize, but at least I don't need to practise treading water in a cork life vest - just in case.

- Sid

* A rich heiress, presumably.

** To be fair, this is a worst case scenario.  A first class berth accommodation was about a quarter of this price, but after all, we are talking about rich heiress territory.

 *** In this scenario, the ship doesn't need to hit an iceberg.  It sinks under the unexpected weight of a million temporal tourists.

One giant leap.

"A bit of history for you…

Do you know how many people are watching this live on the telly?  Half a billion.  And that's nothing, 'cause the human race will spread out among the stars, you just watch them fly, billions and billions of them for billions and billions of years, and every single one of them at some point in their lives will look back at this man taking that very first step and they will never ever forget it."

The Doctor, The Day of the Moon

Neil Armstrong died yesterday at the age of 82.

 * * *

It was, in fact, just one small step.  And I acknowledge all of the people who contributed, all of the ground work, all of the other small steps necessary to make that final small step possible.  But to be that person at that place at that time makes Neil Armstrong a unique figure in human history.

In many ways the potential offered by that moment has been wasted.  Dreams of moon bases and Mars landings have become just that, dreams, as fiscal issues and changed directions diminished the focus on space exploration.

None of that matters.

The instant when Neil Armstrong's foot touched the surface of the moon on July 20th in 1969 changed humanity forever.  It opened the doors to the universe - it made us infinite and immortal.

You just watch us fly...

- Sid