SA：Oh, my God.
That was a close shave, wasn’t it?
SB：Smell ice, can ya? Bleeding Christ!
Mh：Note the time and enter it in the log.
C：What was that, Mr. Murdoch?
M：An iceberg, sir.
I put her hard to starboard and ran the engines full astern but it was too close.
I tried to port round it, but she hit and...
C：Close the watertight doors.