The first substantial exhibition of material retrieved from the wreck of the Titanic was mounted by the National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, in October 1994. Extended for a second six-month run the following April, this was to be the most popular exhibition the museum had ever staged, helping to attract some 720,000 people through the turnstiles during the year. It also generated an unprecedented level of media attention, particularly in the period leading up to the opening, placing a wide ranging (but ultimately soft) focus on the museum's motivation for proceeding into the deep waters of apparently delicate subject matter. Indeed, the controversy of the exhibition —a phenomenon partly created, developed and sustained by the media itself — not only formed a backdrop to the planning, design and installation of the show; to some extent the displays, their effects and their meanings became dependent on the context of argument and rhetoric in which they were generated. In the curators' attempts to reconcile appropriately the often-competing demands of the museum market of professional ethics, economics, and contemporary standards of taste and morality, it may be asked whether the National Maritime Museum was passenger or pilot in the stormy waters it encountered through this project. Moreover, what was the true nature and consequence of the unrest: a minor local difficulty or a museological issue of some significance? This article is an attempt, despite the probable partisanship of its author, to explore with some of the objectivity of hindsight these questions and the circumstances in which they arose.1
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