Flying Fish is anchored bow and stern in the iridescent waters of the Turkish Mediterranean Sea. Photography: © Jeffrey Cardenas
In the past 30 months, Flying Fish has carried me through the western Caribbean, across the Pacific to Polynesia, south to New Zealand, New Caledonia, Australia, and across Southeast Asia. Within every molecule of water I have encountered a life and landscape that is profoundly different. Now, as I begin my passage through the Mediterranean Sea, I am experiencing another significant sea change. There will be time to reflect and write of these changes, but, as always, my first impressions are visual. Here is a small portfolio of images from the Turkish Mediterranean and some initial thoughts on this exciting new water.
How this gallery works: The text under each image is relevant. Hover the cursor not just on the image, but at the BOTTOM of each image to read the text. When you click on the text it will bring up a full-frame view with a scrolling arrow allowing navigation to each image. Thanks for being interested enough to do this.
At 30 feet below the surface color begins to shift to monotone. Water absorbs different wavelengths of light. Colors disappear underwater in the same order as they appear in the color spectrum. As this occurs an angelic halo from above highlights the raw rock rising from the sea floor.
I am astonished at how few fish I have seen during my first month in the Eastern Mediterranean. It is likely people have been eating fish here for millennia; there is evidence of stone tools on Crete dating back to 130,000 BC. Still, it saddens me to think that there are fewer fish in this sea. There is hope, however, in this stream of sprat. They provide proof of life.
I cannot even image the geological upheaval that applied this amount of pressure on the landscape. If only rocks could talk.
Those who know me recognize that my favorite place underwater is in that final layer where water meets air. It is here that there is a blending of atmospheres. The clarity below carries me to the reflections of what is above.
At first glance it just looks like a rock. Look closer and let your eyes drift across the striations of texture and color. Imagine the mass and density. I won’t get mystical about this but it is clear to me that this rock has its own power. No human being created this rock.
This is not an image of a beach. My camera is underwater pointed at a mosaic of pebbles on the bottom, six feet below the surface. The water clarity is otherworldly.
There may not be iridescent gardens of living coral and bright tropical fish along this shallow shoreline of the Mediterranean but the color of the sea and sky still radiates in the crystal clear water.
Just when I thought the underwater landscape could not be more bizarre… this Diadema sea urchin begins pulsating neon colors as I swim over it. The round orb the middle is not an eye, or a mouth; it’s the poop chute. The orange ring around this anal cone is accented by five geometrically perfect bright white spots connecting to small fluorescent blue V-shaped lines. I LOVE the natural world.
The landscape is rugged and wild on the Kapıdağ Yarımadası Peninsula of Turkey’s Mediterranean coastline. Photography: © Jeffrey Cardenas
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If you would like to follow the daily progress of Flying Fish into the Mediterranean, and onward, you can click this link: https://forecast.predictwind.com/tracking/display/Flyingfish
To see where Flying Fish has sailed since leaving Key West in 2017, click here: https://cruisersat.net/track/Flying%20Fish
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