Stories from the Subaquatic Ionian Sea
A mission to tell the fascinating history of a Mediterranean coastline, and of how the stories and relics of the past that lie beneath the waves can support the development of coastal regions.
Image by Error 420 via Unsplash.
This article is a publicly accessible version of the findings of my Master’s thesis, which I completed at the University of Oxford in 2021.
As someone who has spent most of my life fascinated with the ancient world and strongly connected to the ocean, stumbling upon the field of underwater archaeology was a dream come true. A humble interest in some pottery that had been pulled out of the sea on the coastline in southern Italy near where my family comes from and a generous offer from a professional in the field to teach me to dive whilst I was at university started me on an unconventional journey.
When I took the leap and decided to pursue a master’s degree in maritime archaeology, I knew the field I was quite literally diving into was an exclusive one. Diving is a physically demanding and costly sport that not everyone can learn and experience, and there’s a relatively small community of archaeologists in the world who are also divers or whose expertise lies underwater. I was wholeheartedly aware that I’d likely spend a lot of my time explaining what maritime archaeology even was, and justifying to others as much as to myself how something so niche could be relevant to the wider world.
Although I loved every moment of learning about Ancient Greek, Roman and Egyptian life by the sea, I grappled with the sense that my happy place and the context of my research, the underwater world, at times seemed isolated from people and communities living not far away on Mediterranean coastlines and islands. The Mediterranean is known for its azure coastlines and is rich in cultural heritage – think shipwrecks, sunken cities, ancient ports, submerged cult sites and marble workshops. But through taking fieldwork trips to Greece and visiting relatives in the south of Italy, I knew that these seemingly idyllic places struggled with a host of contemporary socio-political issues, such as depopulation, abandonment, lack of opportunity for young people, poor infrastructure, lack of investment and marginalisation.
Driven by a desire for my work to have an impact in some way, I began to investigate how underwater archaeology could support living people in the present day. In exploring the relationship between archaeology, the public, the media and the issues we’re facing in the contemporary world, I came to believe that there might be a more substantial audience for maritime archaeology than the academic community might realise and tap into, not only because the discovery of shipwrecks and sunken cities is clearly exciting news to share with the world, but because the bones of the discipline – the past and the ocean – are powerful contexts for storytelling all around. People all over the world can relate to the pull of the ocean; some know it intimately, other are drawn to the mystique and intrigue of the planet’s most unexplored landscape. Meanwhile, the past is a familiar memory and a foreign country all at once, rendering it a compelling narrative device that can provoke us to think about our own lives and stories.
Based on this impression that an audience of interested people are already listening, it only takes a little creativity to see that maritime archaeology can be used as mouthpiece for current issues that are mirrored in history: changing coastlines which led cities to become submerged can instigate discussion around climate change; shipwrecks which show us the movement of people around the world can become vehicles for discussing migration and the refugee crisis in the Mediterranean today; disappearing boatbuilding practises or fishing traditions can exemplify the at times obliterating effects of industrialisation upon culture and heritage. What I discovered, in other words, was that maritime archaeology presented a key into world of opportunity for storytelling connected to the ocean, its treasures, and the dilemmas of the contemporary world which we can’t ignore.
Image by Geran de Klerk, via Unsplash.
When the expertise of archaeologists and historians is married with public engagement to tell interesting, authentic, local stories, a beautiful opportunity arises for communities to connect to their heritage, and to share that with the world. But beyond telling important stories, I also believe that maritime archaeology can be even more actively instrumental in today’s world by supporting sustainable development by way of regenerative tourism; the growing movement that is reimagining the traditionally exploitative travel industry into one in which every holiday, experience, or excursion we take when we’re abroad serves a wider goal and promotes the regeneration of the places we visit, by protecting and safely exploring their natural and cultural landscapes with the community as one’s guide. Plugging maritime cultural heritage and dive tourism into this equation is a seamless possibility: imagine taking a trip to the Mediterranean and being able to learn the stories of life by the sea in the past and the present through artefacts and conversation, eat fresh fish caught by local fishermen and prepared to perfection using recipes older than the people who made them, dive in clear blue waters to spot ancient Greek shipwrecks and World War 2 submarines, and tell me you wouldn’t pay extra for an experience like that. That, I believe, can answer the question of economic opportunity; the notion that people respond well to uniqueness, a good story, an experience they’ll never forget.
Only in dreams is underwater archaeology is a silver bullet in solving all the developmental dilemmas faced by coastal and island communities across the globe; in reality, its practical role in sustainable development is a supporting one, minor at best. But that doesn’t mean its part can’t be played to the best of our ability; within the field we have a duty to share its magic and use whatever interest it may generate to help us address the important questions, even when they’re hard. And whether you love, know, work in, live alongside, or are simply curious about the sea, you can dive in too. It’s all clear beneath the surface.