
Arthur “Artie” Moore, one of the few people on Earth following the developing disaster, could do nothing to help, and encountered disbelief when he reported the news to his local police station.
Although some people believed that Moore had heard the signals, “the fact that the Titanic had sunk, no one would believe that because the Titanic was unsinkable,” said Stuart Instone, a member of a local radio club based in the old mill where Moore monitored radio traffic as the ship sank on the night of April 14-15, 1912.
Moore’s achievement, which sparked a career in the electronics industry, is being celebrated in the Welsh valleys on the centenary of the disaster.
Winding House museum in New Tredegar, southern Wales, is opening an exhibition titled “The Titanic, the Mill and the Signal: Artie Moore and Titanic’s SOS” today, and the local Blackwood & District Amateur Radio Society will be using a special call sign to send messages on April 13-15 from Gelligroes Mill, where Moore built and operated his device.
At the time, it was believed that radio transmission could only reach a 1,000 miles (1,600 km) or so at night, Instone said — but Moore was 3,000 miles from the sinking ship.
“For a lad in the Welsh valleys to do that was quite an achievement,” he added.
Italian radio pioneer Guglielmo Marconi was so impressed with Moore’s achievements that he hired the Welshman, who went on to patent an “echometer,” a sonar device, in 1932.
At 12:15 a.m. on April 15, the 26-year-old amateur radio enthusiast heard a faint signal in Morse Code: “CQD Titanic 41.44N 50.24W.”
CQD meant “come quickly distress.” In its next message, Titanic also used the newer SOS signal — “CQD CQD SOS de MGY Position 41.44N 50.24W. Require immediate assistance. Come at once. We have struck an iceberg. Sinking.”
Moore continued to copy the increasingly desperate messages until the Titanic went silent about two hours after the first distress call.
“We are putting the passengers off in small boats,” “Women and children in boats, cannot last much longer,” “Come as quickly as possible old man; our engine-room is filling up to the boilers.”
Then, finally: “SOS SOS CQD CQD Titanic. We are sinking fast. Passengers are being put into boats. Titanic.”
It would be two days before newspaper headlines worldwide corroborated Moore’s story.
David Constable, the curator of Gelligroes Mill, said Moore had lost part of a leg in an accident before the night in the mill, and took up model building as he recovered. His model of a stationary steam engine won a competition prize, a book called “Modern Views of Electricity and Magnetism.”
“It was about how to make a radio, really,” Constable said.
The author, Sir Oliver Lodge, had demonstrated the potential of radio communication at a lecture in London in 1894, a year before Marconi did the same.
Moore died in 1949. His model steam engine and some parts of his radio are on permanent display at the mill.
Museums officer Emma Wilson said that the Winding House has invited Moore’s niece, Margaret Hopkins, to cut the ribbon when the exhibition opens today. It includes some replicas of items salvaged from the Titanic.
Comments are not available on this story. Read more about why we allow commenting on some stories and not on others.
We believe it's important to offer commenting on certain stories as a benefit to our readers. At its best, our comments sections can be a productive platform for readers to engage with our journalism, offer thoughts on coverage and issues, and drive conversation in a respectful, solutions-based way. It's a form of open discourse that can be useful to our community, public officials, journalists and others.
We do not enable comments on everything — exceptions include most crime stories, and coverage involving personal tragedy or sensitive issues that invite personal attacks instead of thoughtful discussion.
You can read more here about our commenting policy and terms of use. More information is also found on our FAQs.
Show less