I know I’m not the only one who was captivated by the Titan submersible story last week. But after talking with countless people about it — friends, family and colleagues — I knew I had a slightly different sentiment toward the situation, but I couldn’t really pinpoint how or why that came to be.
Finally, fellow Seattleite and journalist Sam Howe Verhovek put into words everything I’d been feeling, and more. Verhovek authored the 2010 book, “Jet Age: The Comet, the 707 and the Race to Shrink the World,” and just yesterday published an opinion piece in The Washington Post titled, “Before condemning the Titan’s pilot, consider his side of the story.”
The article’s first sentence reads, “The British-built de Havilland Comet, the first jet airliner ever to fly, was a sleek, beautiful, fatally flawed machine.” I immediately knew where the story was going.
Early in the article, Verhovek shared this quote from British aviation pioneer Lord Brabazon of Tara, with regard to the cause of the early Comet accidents:
“It is due to the adventurous, pioneering spirit of our race. It has been like that in the past, it is like that in the present, and I hope it will be in the future.”
That really struck a chord.
Verhovek actually spent time with OceanGate CEO and Titan pilot Stockton Rush just last month, and in the wake of the accident, he does acknowledge Rush’s responsibility in the accident. “His clear faith in his machine — or his impatience — played a role in balancing risk and judgment, and thus led directly to his death and those of his clients.” But he doesn’t believe Stockton Rush was a villain. And I agree. Rush was an adventurer, an explorer, an innovator and a visionary.
For most of us, it’s difficult to imagine taking part in such a mission, but the Titan passengers undoubtedly knew the risks, and were likely well aware that this particular submersible was “different.” The waivers they signed mentioned the possibility of death at least three times. The Titan’s use of carbon fiber alone put it at risk of implosion. And its non-spherical shape meant water pressure wasn’t exerted equally on all sides — another unconventional design aspect that made it less safe.
I won’t reiterate everything Verhovek said in his piece, because I encourage you to read it yourself. One thing I do feel compelled to say is, if you are one of the people expressing frustration about the coverage this accident has received, and society’s “obsession” with it, don’t blame Stockton Rush. And don’t blame the media. As someone who went to journalism school and who worked in news for a few years, the media cover what we want to hear.
Yes, there have been countless other tragedies in recent weeks that were somehow overshadowed by these “billionaires stuck in a sub.” The migrant boat tragedy near Greece, the ongoing war in Ukraine, the deadly riot in a Honduran prison, the mining explosion in Africa… the list goes on.
But the Titan submersible story was different — the “unknown” made it intriguing. It was as though the world was watching a horror movie unfold in real time. It reminded me a bit of the 2018 rescue of the junior soccer team trapped in a Thailand cave. We all watched, waited, hoped and prayed. This was much the same, but unfortunately it didn’t have a happy ending.
Stockton Rush majored in aerospace engineering at Princeton University. At age 19, he became the youngest jet transport pilot in the world, earning a DC-8 rating. He went on to work at McDonnell Douglas as an F-15 flight test engineer. He was a son, a husband, a father, and a friend. His house is just about five miles north of where we live here in Seattle, and his company is headquartered in Everett.
Yesterday, I went to bring flowers to the OceanGate offices, but the company has vacated the site indefinitely. All signage has been removed, and there was no memorial of any type to be found. So, the roses now grace our table and serve as a reminder of the lives that were lost in the tragedy. My thoughts are with the families of Stockton Rush, Shahzada and Suleman Dawood, Hamish Harding and Paul-Henri Nargeolet. May your lives, legacies and adventurous spirits live on.
The Great Planes 