That Fateful Sunday

The Titanic's next stop was Queenstown, Ireland, quickly followed by a stop at Cherbrough, France. Then, it was just 2'200 passengers, 500 crew, and the open Atlantic Ocean.
The Titanic was going to the Big Apple.
As the ship glided beautifully through the water, dolphins jumped from the water, jumping in gorgeous arks that would soon make history in the movie of the ship.
Passengers sat below decks sipping tea and snacking on biscuits. Men and women swam in the below-deck swimming pool, and weight-lifted in the gymnasium. Everything was as it should be.
But, on Sunday 14th April 1912, everything changed.
Captain Smith was stood on the bridge with Officer Murdoch, stirring his tea.
"Right, I'll be off to my quarters now." Smith said, and left the bridge.
Murdoch peered out into the calm darkness of the Atlantic, trying to spot anything bad.
Atop the Crow's Nest, Fredrick Fleet and his friend stood watching out for iceburgs or rocks or field ice. It was bitterly cold, and the sea was completely flat, making it more difficult to spot a burg.
Then, out of nowhere, a black object appeared on the horizon, and air in the Cros Nest went colder than the freezing night. Fleet rang a warning bell, then grabbed the phone.
"What do you see?" came a voice from the other end.
"Iceburg, dead ahead!" Fleet yelled, and hung up. By now, the Burg was completely visible - and only 100 metres away.
Fleet, his friend, and Murdoch down on the bridge watched, holding their breaths as the Titanic's bow slowly turned to port. The ship was going to miss!
Then, an officer on the forward prow of the ship suddenly yelled "She's gonna hit!"
Then, there was a horrible, gut-wrentching ascraping sound.
The sound of ice clashing with metal...