Titanic found after 114 years- Recreating the horrors of 1912.

Okay, I'm moving past the initial debris markers now. The currents down here are unpredictable today. The visibility is dropping. There's coal everywhere. Just endless fields of it scattered around these larger pieces. It's the porcelain that survives best down here. The iron just dissolves. But the plates. They look almost new. Wait, I saw a glint near that beam. Let me get closer. Leaving the artifact field now. Sonar indicates the main hull is just ahead. The darkness here feels heavier. My God. No matter how many times you see pictures, the real thing is monstrous. It's bleeding rust. Coming up towards the break area, the damage here gets much worse. You can see right into the decks here. It's just sheared off. These are the Davits. Look at them. Swung out and empty. Moving past the officer's quarters now. The roof is gone in places. I'm at the very tip of the bow now. The anchor crane is still here, perfectly preserved. What is it? Whoa, look at that. It's got a doll head. That is the creepiest thing I've ever seen. More dishes here. Thousands of them. All stacked up like they're ready for dinner. Moving into an area with more personal luggage now. You see the frames everywhere. Approaching the stern section now. The devastation here is, it's unimaginable. It's completely destroyed. This looks like part of a propeller shaft. It's just snapped clean. I think I see a way in here. It looks like a collapsed companionway. It's tight, but I might fit. Okay, I'm in. Visibility is near zero. Total chaos inside. Dead end here. The ceiling came down. Trying a side passage. Dropped into a hold area. It's big. And it's... Full of crates. Another block. Turning inward, I think. I think this is the main staircase shaft. The grand staircase area. It just goes down forever. The foundation must be way below. I'm exiting the interior now through a hull breach. On what looks like D-deck level. Battery is hitting bingo fuel. We have to begin the ascent to the submissible tether. Leaving the wreck site now. I've never seen a piece of clothing so perfectly laid out. It's like the person just vanished into the mud. The chromium used in the tanning and the high-grade wool fibers are repulsive to the scavengers down here. It's a preserved tragedy. Wait, look at the size of that thing. It's a giant isopod. Perched right on the wreckage. It looks like a prehistoric monster. It's a scavenger. They wait for anything organic to fall from above. It hasn't moved an inch since I got here. There's a silver tray. Look at that shine. It's still recognizable among all this rust. The silver hasn't completely tarnished yet. It's the White Star Line logo. Right there in the center. After a hundred years, it's still beautiful. Visibility is dropping. The silt I kicked up is everywhere. I need to wait a second. This area is completely pancaked. This was a crew cabin. Everything is just compressed. The space between the decks is only three feet now. I found the main control platform. The gauges, they're still there. Most of the glass is gone, but the brass rims are shining. The floor plates are gone in places. You can see straight down into the oily bilge. It's a death trap in here. Wait, what is that? It looks like a bicycle. Yes, a perfectly preserved bicycle frame. It must have belonged to one of the crew or a third class passenger. It's just leaning there, waiting for a ride that will never come. Look at that tub, just hanging by a pipe. It's a miracle it hasn't fallen yet. This whole section is just dangling. I'm going to drop a small light marker here to see how deep the debris goes below this ledge. The currents are pulling hard. It's a sea of china. Look at the condition. They look like they were put there yesterday. The mud has protected them from everything. There it is. The brown white star logo. This was first class service. Each one of these was handled by someone on that final night. It's gold. Pure gold. That is why it hasn't corroded at all. Someone's treasure. I can't touch it, it belongs here. Part of the grave now. Moving on to the bow section. I'm moving towards the No. 2 cargo hatch. It's wide open. This leads straight down into the hold where the Renault car was stored. Going down, I need to be careful of the hanging cranes. The currents inside the hatch can be tricky. The light catches a distinctive shape in the silt. It's a brass headlight from the famous 1912 Renault Type C. The Renault. It's really here. Most of the bodywork was wood, so it's gone. But the engine block and the frame, they're still recognizable. Look at the chandelier. The crystal drops are still there, dangling from the rusted iron frame. Moving into the lounge area. This was the heart of first class. The damage here is heartbreaking. It's a Steinway. You can still see the brand name cast into the iron harp. I have to move on. The ceiling is looking unstable. Heading towards the Turkish baths. The Turkish baths. Look at the tiles. The colors are still so vibrant. The blue, the gold, the red. And the windows. The leaded glass is still intact. It's like the ocean never touched this room. It's so well preserved. This is the watertight door between boiler room 6 and 5. It's closed. The fireman must have shut it just in time. It's frozen in place. Look at the floor. A shovel. Left right where it was dropped when the water came rushing in. The handles have rotted, but the iron is there. A pressure gauge. The glass is intact. You can see the needle. It's pointing to zero. The power died here over a hundred years ago. I'm heading back up towards the upper decks. It's too dangerous to stay down here. The structure is groaning. The dining saloon. The largest room on the ship. These are the table bases. They were bolted to the deck. The wood is gone, but the iron pedestals remain. It looks like a graveyard of small monuments. My god. A Greenland shark. It was massive. It must be hundreds of years old. It's the king of this wreck now. I need to keep moving. Heading towards the galley. There should be more artifacts there. The shark is just... part of the deep. I can't. I have to go. Heading back to the promenade. I've seen enough of the interior for one dive. I've never seen anything like this. The boots are standing up, like the person just dissolved in place. This was the third class section. The water must have trapped them instantly when the hull buckled. It's a child's room. Look at the doll. It's almost like it was left there on purpose. I can't stay in here. The ceiling is sagging. Every time I breathe, more rust falls from the beams. The mail room. This is where the clerks died trying to save the sacks. Look at the desk. There's something else here. A key. A large, iron key. The purser's office. This is where the passengers kept their valuables. The safe should be right through that gate. Wait. I see gold. Actual gold. Whoa! God, it's huge. It's living inside the safe. I didn't mean to wake it. I'm leaving the treasure to the Guardian. Not worth the risk. I'm going down. Right into the heart of the ship. Boiler room one. This is the deepest part of the bow section. The pressure here is incredible. I can hear the wreck groaning under the weight of the ocean. A fireman. He died at his post. The whistle is still there. I have to get out of the boiler rooms. The air. It feels different down here. Thicker. The great dining saloon. It looks like a cathedral of rust. The scale. You can't imagine how big this room is until you're in it. Look at the floor. It's covered in silverware. Hundreds of forks, spoons, and knives. Oh my God, did you see that? A Greenland shark. He's the king of the wreck now. I've never felt so small. I have to keep moving. I don't want to be here if he comes back for a second look. Descending through the staircase void, it's like falling through a haunted house. Every deck has a story and every deck is filled with mud. We're at the Turkish baths. This is the most beautiful part of the ship. The tiles, they never fade. Moving forward to the cargo holds. This is where the heavy secrets are kept. The Renault, it should be somewhere in here. The hold is full of crates. Most of them are smashed open. Look at all the machinery. The Renault, it's really here. It looks like a ghost of a car. Just the bones left. It's too fragile to touch. We'll leave it for history. Time to move to the very tip of the bow. This is where the wheel was. The last point of control. It's so small for such a massive ship. Wait, what's that? What's that in the mud next to the pedestal? I'm leaving the main wreck. Heading into the debris field between the two halves. This is where the human stories are buried. Should I? The latch. It looks like it might still work. There could be letters inside. History. It's a locket. There's a photo inside. Or there was. It's just a blur now. The name of the maker is still there. Harland and Wolfe. It's cast right into the bronze hub. The hull is crushed right over the shaft. The force of the impact must have been like an explosion. I... I can't do this anymore. I've seen enough. The stern is a tomb. It's not a ship, it's a grave. Heading back to the sub. My oxygen is low. It's time to leave the Titanic to the dark. I can see the hull of the research ship. We're almost home. The Titanic? She's still down there, exactly where we left her. Dive complete. 30 minutes in hell, but a lifetime of memories. See you on the next one.