(The better telling is here. Seriously you should go read it. I've heard this story told in rationalist circles, but there wasn't a post on LessWrong, so I made one)

Today is April 15th, Carpathia Day. Take a moment to put forth an unreasonable effort to save a little piece of your world, when no one would fault you for doing less.

In the early morning of April 15, the RMS Titanic began to sink with more than two thousand souls on board.

Over 58 nautical miles away — too far to make it in time — sailed the RMS Carpathia, a small, slow, passenger steamer. The wireless operator, Harold Cottam, was listening to the transmitter late at night before he went to bed when he got a message from Cape Cod intended for the Titanic. When he contacted the Titanic to relay the messages, he got back a distress signal saying they hit an iceberg and were in need of immediate assistance. Cottam ran the message straight to the captain's cabin, waking him.

Captain Arthur Rostron's first reaction upon being awoken was anger, but that anger dissolved as he came to understand the situation. Before he'd even finished getting dressed he had ordered the ship to turn around and make towards the last known position of the Titanic.

Even knowing they wouldn't make it in time, Rostron ordered the heating and hot water turned off, to divert all the steam towards the engines in the hopes of getting more speed. He ordered lights to be rigged along the side of the ship so survivors could see it better, medical stations set up, opened the kitchen and got soup and coffee readied. He ordered extra shifts from the crew. Nets and ladders rigged down the sides; lifeboats swung out ready; three dining rooms converted to triage with a doctor in each. He ordered extra lookouts to help navigate the ice field — they had hours of dodging icebergs in the dark ahead of them as they sailed at speeds his ship was never rated for. The RMS Carpathia was only rated for 14 knots; and the engineers squeezed out 17.5. One steward recalled the captain announcing to the crew, "We are in danger. I am risking your lives. The Titanic is in trouble and is sinking and we have to go help them."^[1]

When they arrived three and a half hours later, the Titanic had already sunk. Most of the passengers had already died. The crew did not let this dissuade them, and for hours afterwards they were finding lifeboats and rescuing people. The passengers of Carpathia helped where they could, offering blankets, warm drinks, and words of comfort.

The captain, crew, and ship were honored for their efforts, and the story is well-remembered as a model response to disaster. A little light in a dark time.

Carpathia represents the virtue of toiling in spite of knowing you're probably going to fail. Trying your damnedest to eke out a little more, just a little faster, for the sake of people you don't even know. Being willing to sacrifice comfort, space, warmth, all for the sake of something greater. Even if it wouldn't work out. Even if it won't be worth anything in the end. It will still be worth it to you. Knowing you tried. Making an extraordinary effort. It's not the kind of effort you can sustain, but sometimes it's worth actually trying that hard, in the time it matters most. So today, let us celebrate the passengers, crew, and captain of Carpathia — and consider what we would drop everything for.

^{^}
"Joseph Zupicich, 94, AIDED TITANIC VICTIMS". The Morning Call. 14 April 1987.