WITH the 100th anniversary of the Titanic disaster next year, a dramatic, first-hand account has been unearthed among the papers of a surviving crew member who later worked on Southend Pier.

For the 34-year-old Joseph George Scarrott signing-on for the super-liner in 1912 “seemed like a dream come true”.

Joseph, of Portland Avenue, near Southend High Street, lived until he was 60 following the nightmare in the freezing Atlantic. He died in the old Rochford Hospital in 1938, leaving a widow.

Five years earlier, while working gas a nightwatchman on the pier, Joseph wrote articles about the Titanic tragedy for the Pier Review, staff magazine of the-then Southend Corporation Pier Department.

More than 1,500 passengers and crew perished on April 14, 1912, when what was the world’s largest passenger steamship struck a massive iceberg on her maiden voyage from Southampton to New York.

Recalling that numbing night, Joseph wrote: “At about 11.30pm I was standing against number two hold on the fore deck when all of a sudden there was a terrific crash and huge lumps of ice came tumbling around the starboard side, completely filling that part of the deck.

“For a moment the Titanic shook fore and aft, then seemed to recover as if nothing had happened. Going below to give the other watch a call, needless to say I found them all awake. At 12 we got the order: ‘All hands on deck. Clear away and turn out all boats.’ “I was at work on boat 14 when Captain Smith gave that never-to-be-forgotten order ‘Men, you know your duty – get the women and children into the boats.’ I asked Mr Wilde, the chief officer, who was standing near me, if I should go to number 11, my proper boat. But as I was the only Able Seaman at number 14 at that moment, he ordered me to take charge right there.

“I found it difficult to get women nearby to get into the boat because they were under the impression the Titanic was unsinkable. But I succeeded in getting 60 aboard and was ordered away. With five engine room ratings and a window cleaner, I had a total of 66.

“As the boat was being lowered, Mr Lowe, fifth officer, got in. I was very glad of this as there was a possibility of the boat being rushed from the decks below as we were being lowered. Mr Lowe stood with a revolver ready and threatened to shoot if there was any attempt to rush the boat. In fact, he fired two shots at the ship’s side as a warning.”

Joseph’s graphic account described how the lifeboat dangled at a sharp angle several feet above the water before finally dropping to the sea surface, amid the screams of terrified passengers.

He wrote: “We rowed about 200 yards to be clear of suction when the liner sank. Suddenly, she took a list to starboard, then a roar like thunder and down she went, head first. Before she disappeared, she broke in half between the third and fourth funnels, the stern remaining level on the water for a little while before sinking.

“Now the full horror of the situation came upon us all. We could hear the screams and cries for help from those in the water. The night was very dark and it was difficult to decide which way to row for rescue work.

“When our eyes became accustomed to the darkness we found we were among wreckage and bodies kept afloat by lifebelts. We could see only one man alive and after a struggle, managed to get him in our boat. But he died shortly afterwards. When dawn broke we could see several of our boats with survivors, fairly close to us. We were ordered to make the boats fast to each other, to form a large object for any rescue ship to see quickly.”

The SS Carpathia rescued Joseph and others and by noon they were en route to New York.

Joseph continued to go back to sea, serving on various ships until 1921. His personal records regularly referred to him as “very good.”

Now, approaching a century since the disaster that spawned articles, books, TV programmes and the award-winning 1997 film Titanic, Joe’s mementoes have been shown to the Echo by a niece, 86-year-old Mrs Muriel Lockwood, of Westcliff.

Muriel, who attended Chalkwell School and Westcliff High, worked for years as a secretary at the Manor Trading Estate, Thundersley. She recently returned to Southend after years of retirement in Gloucestershire and following the death of husband Jim.

The couple ran the Rodney pub at Baddow and, later, the Rising Sun at Stanford-le-Hope. Then, after the birth of their son, they moved to Leigh, where for around 20 years they ran the then-revolutionary Westinghouse dry cleaning business in Rectory Grove.