IT WENT DOWN on the streets of Baltimore. The official story is that Peter Pryal was ill. Diagnosis, an internal disorder. What else would explain how the once quartermaster on the steamship Majestic of the White Star Line met its former captain, E. J. Smith? Pryal did not even believe his own encounter, despite observing him two mornings in a row. But the man “attired in a neat fitting business suit of a light brown color, straw hat and tan shoes,” and carrying two briefcases, looked very much like the captain he once knew. How was that possible? Smith had met his fate piloting the maiden voyage of the RMS Titanic nearly ten years earlier.
Captain Smith was fish food. And everybody knew it.
The date was July, 19, 1921. A Tuesday morning. Peter Pryal stood on the corners of Baltimore and Saint Paul for nearly an hour, waiting for another sighting of the Titanic’s captain. Not even his own wife believed he’d show.
And yet, there he was.
Pryal said: “Captain Smith, how are you?”
The man answered: “Very well, Pryal, but please don’t detain me. I’m on business.”
Pryal followed him.
When the man realized his error, he hurried into the Calvert building, endeavoring to lose himself in the crowd. Smith scurried onto a cable car. Pryal managed to climb onboard. Smith hopped off at the Washington, Baltimore, and Annapolis station, and scampered towards another.
Pryal did not make the transfer in time.
“Be good, shipmate,” the victorious captain called to his pursuer, “until we meet again!”
Whither they ever met again is unknown, but highly unlikely. Pryal told his encounter to the press on the following day. He never filed another report. And besides the account was buried. After initially reporting that everyone had survived onboard the Titanic, and that the ship itself was limping towards Halifax, Baltimore’s The Evening Sun and The Syracuse Herald had learned their lesson. Only ‘The Sun’ ran with his story.
Need I remind you—this is not some trucker who has overdosed on Cheetos and then sits down at a Midwest coffee shop only to be visited by an apparition of Elvis. The witness protection program did not officially exist in 1912. The very notion that the captain of a ship lied about his own drowning on the largest recorded vessel in human history only to have his witness testimony protected, hidden, and then further whisked away when found, or rather relocated, was not in the collective consciousness until a much later generation.
Wikipedia tells me that the Witness Security Program was authorized by the Organized Crime Control Act of 1970 and amended by the Comprehensive Crime Control Act of 1984. Apparently, “the U.S. Marshals have protected, relocated and given new identities to more than 8,600 witnesses and 9,900 of their family members, since the program began in 1971.” Aside from the fact that I am given absolutely no reason to trust these numbers, they want the collective consciousness to conclude that it is organized crime whom these people must be protected from—the CIA-backed drug cartels of the world—when in fact relocation is more likely apportioned to hoaxers, such as John Lennon’s death at the hands of a Manchurian Candidate or the crew of the 1986 Challenger. Long before Titanic, the assassination at Ford’s Theater was fabricated by the intelligence community and Lincoln was carted off to die quietly of “multiple mucosal neuroma syndrome,” a form of cancer. John Lennon simple reemerged as Mark Staycer. And here’s some irony for you. The crew of the 1986 Challenger became teachers.
Let’s put it this way. Getting people to disappear in the early twentieth century, decades before television, was easily done. It’s done today in a 1984 society. Cameras everywhere. Some of the Challenger crew didn’t even bother to change their names. Therefore, witness relocation in 1912 was a breeze.
With Titanic, we immediately learn that there were 333 bodies recovered at sea.
There it is, folks. 33. Can anybody say hoax? We’ve been duped.
Among those bodies was billionaire John J. Astor. In the hours immediately following Titanic’s disappearing act, witnesses were planted among the press, just as we can expect of any ritualistic stage performance today, in order to offer emotionally drenched personal tales of tragedy and valor. It’s all a psychodrama. We saw it happen with the Las Vegas shooting. Crisis actors often like to add their own creative input. Actors have a word for it. Improv. In 1912, Americans clung to their fabricated psycho-dramatic exercises, and followed the lives of its survivors for decades. Astor’s widow, pregnant during the Titanic hoax, was one of them. The unsinkable Molly Brown is probably still a household name. Among Astor’s heroic offerings, some witnesses claimed that the billionaire was mangled by a falling smokestack. Mm-hmm. Improv. Setting Astor aside for a moment, witnesses couldn’t even get their stories straight regarding how the ship sank. As we see time and again, it takes the press to iron these clowns out and create the collective consciousness. The mortician who prepared Astor’s body kept to the script and assured everyone that the billionaire was undamaged. Astor was buried on May 4, 18 days after the fact in Trinity Cemetery. Closed casket. Nobody saw the body.
Trinity. Again, how Masonic.
Getting back to those 333 bodies recovered at sea. I questioned the actual number of people on board the Titanic in an earlier post, and I am inclined to believe the number was akin to what the RMS Carpathia ultimately collected. The fact that there weren’t enough life boats is a ridiculous myth, intended to manipulate our emotional acumen. They had precisely enough boats—and more. The official narrative asks that we praise Smith for being chivalrous enough to go down with a cruise ship despite the fact that he reportedly couldn’t care less if there were enough life boats before pushing off from Liverpool. At 4:00am, precisely two hours after the Titanic performed its disappearing act, Carpathia rescued the 493 passengers and 212 crew—or 705 altogether. Truth be told, we have no way of knowing precisely how many people Carpathia rescued, or if there was another ship to boot, because this was a staged hoax and the Manifest was fabricated.
You want red flags? I’ll give you red flags. There’s plenty of red flags to go around. Consider the following.
The RMS Titanic disappeared from the scene. Some two hours later the RMS Carpathia officially arrived and collected its survivors. Somewhere around 8am, Carpathia split for New York. Recovery of the dead would not begin for another two days. The Mackay-Bennett, refitted as a morgue ship, didn’t even leave Halifax until April 17. When it did arrive on the 19th of April, Captain Frederick H. Larnder claimed there were too many bodies bobbing around in their life-jackets to recover, and not enough embalming supplies or coffins. How in the world did they get the math wrong? See, the Canadian Government and associated burial and maritime laws dictated that any dead bodies had to be embalmed before a ship entered port. No exception would be made here. How convenient. No rescue attempt was attempted by the Americans.
Larnder furthermore had the uncanny ability to identify the richest men on board—men like Astor—including the entire first-class cabin, while dumping 113 third-class passengers back at sea. Let me ask you something. How in the world do you differentiate the floating, bloated carcass of a first-class ticket holder from a third-class ticket holder? Were they wearing Monopoly Man monocles with their pajamas? Oh wait, that’s been Mandela Effected. Did they have tickets in their pocket? Perhaps the Mackay-Bennett carried a portfolio of everyone’s mug shots? You tell me.
Here’s another red flag before closing.
Despite Canadian authorities only collecting the wealthy-looking, one-third of the bodies were never identified or claimed. Why do you think that is? Remember how half of the names on the World Trade Center death list didn’t have social security number, or how their families never came forward? This is September 11 all over again. Almost half of the bodies gathered by the Larnder and his crew were buried in mass in Halifax.
Nobody claimed them. And isn’t that strange?
The truth is stranger than fiction.
Mathis, Miles, “The Titanic: The Fraud That Keeps On Giving“