Near the end of my first dive to the Titanic in July 2000, I discovered a large leather bag, an exceedingly rare find. We knew from previous recovery expeditions that leather bags protected their contents from deterioration, including clothing, currency, newspapers, post cards, coins and jewelry. None of these items can survive independently in this hostile environment.

We immediately recovered the bag, which opened slightly as it was lifted with the sub’s mechanical arm, revealing a layer of books. Miraculously, I could still read the print on the pages through my porthole.

Subsequent research revealed that the bag belonged to a second-class passenger named Edgar Samuel Andrew, a 17-year-old student from Argentina. Andrew boarded the Titanic in Southampton, England, not far from where he was attending school. Once on the ship, Andrew wrote a letter to his friend Josey Cowan on Titanic stationary lamenting that his transfer from another steamship to the Titanic required him to depart from England a week early, which meant he would miss his friend’s arrival in England:

“You figure, Josey, I am boarding the greatest steamship in the world, but I don’t really feel proud of it at all, right now I wish the Titanic were lying at the bottom of the ocean.”

The letter was posted from Cherbourg, France, where the Titanic made its first port call. Five days later, this young man got his wish. Both his bag and the Titanic were lying at the bottom of the ocean, and Andrew perished in the sinking. His body was never recovered. Now, at the beginning of a new century, I was returning his belongings to the surface.

Offered for the Aminus3 Photography prompt for “discovery.”