Today is our last day in Djibouti and I am writing this only a few hours before we leave for the airport. The internet connection in Eritrea is suspect so you may not hear from me for a while but I will do my best.
Last night a few of us, Rob the topside camera, Peter the research assistant, Ian topside and underwater camera/photographer/lights and I headed out to a few bars to check out the local scene. Despite our fatigue we felt it would be rude not to at least have a beer and see the sites, as none of us know if we will ever be back. Djibouti was first known as French Somaliland when it was established as a French colony in 1888. Independence came relatively late: in 1967 a majority of the population voted in a referendum to remain part of the French Community. The country was then renamed the French Territory of the Afars and Issas (the 2 principal ethnic groups). Djibouti gained independence in 1977.
Despite independence, France continues to maintain a strong presence in the country and during the Gulf War, Djibouti was the base of operations for the French military, who continue to maintain a significant presence.
France has thousands of troops as well as warships, aircraft and armoured vehicles in Djibouti and the US has now also stationed hundreds of troops in Djibouti, its only African base, in an effort to counter terrorism in the region. Consequently the bars are full of soldiers. Everyone was very polite and the bars, while a little seedy, were nice enough. After a beer or two though, we were all too tired to continue and our night ended up being quite short.
This morning we headed back out to the Gulf and Lake Asal for some final travelling shots as well as a last interview. I must say I have been overwhelmed by this wild and desolate place. The area between the Gulf and Lake Asal is incredibly rough and jagged. Much of it is covered in relatively new lava flows (a few thousand years old) and it seems as though very little if anything could live there. However, life persists and if you look closely, camels, small rodents, lizards, gazelle, baboons, miniature deer called dik diks and more are everywhere. Goats are also a very frequent site, those are domesticated and vital to the survival of the people and though they often seem to be wandering aimlessly, there is always someone around even if you can’t see them. Our fixer, Vincent told us that if one hits a goat in a car one has to pay about 60 dollars reparations to the owner. Even if there is no one around, he told us that one can hit a goat on the road and three days later a farmer will show up at your door demanding payment, a pretty amazing place to say the least.
I have enjoyed this time in Djibouti, the country is both beautiful and foreboding all at the same time. Just more evidence that we live in an incredible world and one that is worth fighting for.
Wow! What a day, I think this has been one of the most extreme experiences of my life. We are still in the Gulf of Tadjoura filming the rift system that will one day lead to the birth of a new ocean. This morning we visited hot springs in search of clues that water from the Gulf is indeed seeping underground into Lake Asal, evidence that the tectonic activity in the region is indeed causing the land to separate. The springs reach temperatures above 170 degrees Lake Asal used to be a fresh water lake but in the past few thousand years it has been spoiled by the flow of salt water from the Gulf and the Red Sea. We did indeed, find hot springs with near boiling salty water emanating from the rocks. A good sign that we were on the right track, when we continued on to Lake Asal we were immediately struck by how beautiful it is. The shore looks like it is speckled with snow and the light blue hues remind one of a frozen lake. However, as anyone can guess it is far from cold here and the white material is actually salt and despite its serene appearance, Lake Asal is quite a inhospitable place.
The locals have been trading the salt from Lake Assal for hundreds if not thousands of years. It was once called white gold and huge salt caravans would be dispatched from the region bound for Ethiopia to trade for grains, goods and precious metals. We were fortunate to witness a small caravan of camels and had to pay the camel herders a small amount of money for the privilege of photographing them. It is a rare occurrence to see this and even more rare for them to allow one to capture it on film. This is a time honored tradition that has changed little in thousands of years and it was a stark reminder of the relationship between humankind and the environment upon which he so desperately relies.
We continued on to the Lake and, after lunch, were able to take several salinity measurements to confirm what we all suspected, Lake Asal is incredibly salty. The ocean ranges from 32 to 37 parts per thousand salinity. The Dead Sea is around 320 parts per thousand and Lake Asal is around 400 parts per thousand making it the saltiest body of water on the planet. Salt, or sodium chloride, is essential to life in moderation, but at these levels it is potentially quite deadly. Neither Tooni nor I nor the cameraman Mike Pitts were perturbed by the situation and we donned our suits and waded into the water. Immediately we were struck by how buoyant we were. With our masks on we repeatedly tried to submerge ourselves but were unable to penetrate more than a foot before popping up to the surface like a cork. At first it was quite enjoyable, the water was cool and refreshing and one can literally sit up. After about 15 minutes though we all started to get tired as water had begun to seep into our masks, every drop in our eyes like a red hot iron spike and every time it got into our mouths it burned like fire.
The bottom of the lake is a jagged series of beautiful but incredibly sharp salt and gypsum crystals and as we swam we inevitably began to cut ourselves despite wearing protective gear. What was at first a lot of fun quickly turned into a scary experience and we finished filming as quickly as we could and rushed out of the water. I don’t think anyone would last more than a couple of hours in that environment before death took hold.
Lake Asal is so salty because of two factors: the heat and the wind, both of which do an excellent job of evaporating the water into the air and leaving the salt behind. The same held true for our clothes and after minutes of exiting the water we were covered in a fine layer of salt all over our bodies. I have never been in such a toxic environment in my life and was glad for the canisters of fresh water we had to immediately rinse ourselves off with.
Tomorrow is our last day in Djibouti before we head to Eritrea and then Sudan. Despite how tired everyone is, a few of us are headed out for a beer to sample the nightlife of the city.
Today started with another early morning and you all know how much I love those; however the destination was definitely worth the early rise. We headed off to the Devil’s Cauldron, this time to dive into the rift that has been created between the two continental plates that meet in the area; the Arabian Plate and the Nubian Plate. This is the only place in the world that one can witness two continental plates that meet each other, at least without getting into a submersible or digging underneath glaciers. Tooni and I were both very excited but a little on edge, not knowing exactly what to expect or what to see. We were told that tremors rattled the region only yesterday which didn’t illicit a lot of confidence. A tremor whilst diving in a narrow rift could spell the end of this expedition let alone our lives, as loose boulders and debris could easily come raining down upon us. So we took extra precautions and made sure the there were safety divers ready to jump in and that the course of the dive was carefully planned out.
By the time we got in the water it was almost 10 o’clock and the wind had started to blow. It is a hot wind that feels like a blow dryer endlessly buffeting your body, giving little if any respite against the oppressive heat, so with our wetsuits on we were eager to get in the water and search for the rift. We had a pretty good idea where it would be, based on maps and the visual topside ridges that we could make out quite clearly. Sure enough, only 15 minutes or so into the dive we found it and were startled. I had an image of a jagged crack snaking through the ground, like the old Looney Toons cartoons. It wasn’t anything like that, as it was a rather straight, dark, foreboding fit with one side that created a wall rising above us continuing out of the water to create the side of a steep island and the other side was marked by a rough and uneven ground littered with huge basalt boulders.
The whole area was teeming with life, in sharp contrast to the desolate land above. As we slowly descended into the crack our excitement was palpable. Tooni’s oceanographic background brought a whole new level of understanding and appreciation of the site. As it opened up beneath us, only 4 or 5 feet wide at most, it was a tight fit and we both had a sense that the walls could close in and swallow us at any moment. Huge mussels, sea urchins and sharp scallops lined the walls and added to the treachery. But it was an incredible experience; I felt in awe of the awesome power of nature and reminded of just how insignificant we self-important humans are to the whole picture.
We finished the dive with only a few cuts and scrapes and one or two urchin spines firmly embedded in my hand but that kind of thing comes with the territory. Another dive followed a few hours later and we all felt a real sense of achievement, not least because we all made it out relatively unscathed, but because we were able to capture the images of two continental plates forming what will become a new ocean. I also felt a particular sense of excitement at the idea that we were there at the birth of what will, over time, be a defining geological event for this planet. We have done so much damage to this world, so much destruction to our oceans, indeed to all of the intricate, beautiful and varied places on earth. From plummeting biodiversity, to water scarcity, to climate change and the wasteful and arrogant abuse of our resources; humans are on the brink of oblivion.
However, as I gazed down into the abyss of this planet, witnessing the very birth of an ocean I felt hope that this new beginning was a symbol that there is always a chance to change, a precious opportunity to seize upon the dynamic and resilient world in which we live and chart a new course, a new birth for us as well. This dark foreboding place is our chance to start fresh and as I see a new century dawning, there is every hope for us to embrace our responsibility anew, to be true stewards of not only our water planet but of ourselves as well.
Tomorrow is Lake Asal and more incredible adventure awaits but for now sleep is the only thing on my mind.
Five-thirty came really early today when my alarm started ringing. I contemplated sending it out my window for a personal introduction to the Red Sea but decided against it and dragged myself out of bed instead. Today was our first true day on expedition and it started with an overland visit to the Gulf of Tadjoura or Devil’s Cauldron, where a small plane was set to film aerials of Tooni and I on the ground surveying the area. The bay follows a rift that runs between two continental plates, the Arabian and the Nubian. When continental plates shift away from each other large rift valleys are created and eventually (if it continues and is adjacent to large bodies of water) these rifts can fill with water and as they widen become oceans. That is what happened to the Atlantic Ocean as the African and the American plates (which were at one time joined together) slowly drifted apart and in the ever widening crevice water flowed in and the Atlantic Ocean was formed. Mind you this took over 200 million years but what is happening here is the beginning of this process.
It took about two hours of driving along Djibouti’s main road, replete with camels blocking traffic and baboons screeching from the sidelines, to reach the site; but when we did both Tooni and I were amazed by the resounding silence and austere beauty that surrounded us. A sparse rock strewn, windy place; the heat envelops you and hangs in the air, the basalt rock under foot is porous and jagged and aside from the lone eagle in the air or the ungainly silhouette of a camel on the horizon it is a wonder that anything can survive here. As we stood there I think we were both overwhelmed by it all. Teetering on the edge of a cliff we gazed down at the Gulf of Tadjoura. Also known as the Devil’s Cauldron, the area is widely believed to be an unlucky place…at best.Many locals believe that a mountain encircled by fire once stood in place of the Gulf and that a giant deluge submerged the mountain and the demons now live in the depths and will drag any who venture into it down to their death. While I am not very superstitious, I have to admit that this will be on my mind when we dive there tomorrow.
The rift that is slowly splitting the land apart and thus ever lengthening the Gulf into the mainland is one of the most tectonically active places in the world and we were standing on what someday will be the bottom of an ocean. A short drive to the west and we were at the shores of Lake Asal, a small body of water that is the saltiest lake in the world and which will eventually be flooded as the rift continues to open like a zipper along the course of the continental plates. As this happens a new ocean will form, indeed, scientists have already named it the Afar Ocean and for me to witness such a geological revolution slowly taking place was incredible. Of course, the entire process will take millions of years before the rift opens up enough that the Red Sea will come rushing in.
Over time this new body of water will slowly erode entire mountains and dramatically change the world in which we live. Though I doubt we as a species will witness such an event it is nonetheless a stark reminder that this planet is forever changing. I think we often gaze upon the giant ocean or majestic mountains and think we are staring at eternity when in reality all of these things are a vast changing mosaic, shifting, turning, growing and shrinking all the time, reminding us just how fleeting our lives truly are and thus how much we ought to cherish every moment that we are here to wonder at them.
Once the aerials were over, Tooni and I headed back to the rendezvous site to meet the rest of the crew and board the Eos, our dive boat for the next few days. Before every trip the entire dive crew must go on what we call a ‘shakedown dive’; where we test out all the underwater equipment before getting wet in order to make sure everything is working right. Anchored just outside the Port of Djibouti I was shocked to find some incredibly healthy corals and abundant fish life, some of the best I have seen during this entire series of expeditions. I have no idea why, but the ecosystem looked healthy, a rarity in such a populated heavily trafficked area and a mystery that none of us could explain. By the time we had wrapped and made it back to our quarters everyone was totally exhausted and ready for food. Our fixer Bruno has sorted out dinner at a local Ethiopian restaurant in about an hour from now and we are all weary but excited. Tomorrow is another early day though, so I have a feeling that none of us will last too long.
After two days of travel we finally arrived this morning in Djibouti, a small African country on the southwestern end of the Red Sea. It is a former French colony and a rather desolate place. Also the home to American and French army bases it is quite a stable country and one that seems amiable enough. The people speak a nice soft French and have been incredibly helpful and friendly, crime is low and of the three countries that we are visiting on this trip, it seems to be the mellowest and most accepting. Only half of the crew is here for this leg, as we are based from land and diving in some pretty remote and unexplored places. There is a real sense of adventure here, of frontier outpost, and everyone is quite excited. While the capital itself (also called Djibouti) is quite sparse the food, owing to its French legacy, is so far very good. We loaded up all the gear off the plane and got to the hotel rather early. After sleeping barely 4 hours a night for the last two days, I confess I was off to my room rather promptly to catch a nap before our production briefing and dinner.
Lulled to sleep by the faint call for prayer from a distant mosque, it felt good to get some rest before what is going to be quite a grueling expedition. I awoke as the sun was slowly dipping below the horizon and as I walked down to the shore I was overwhelmed by a sense of wonder and a little sadness. Here before me stood the Red Sea, not only a crossroads of civilization for millennia, but also a part of my own history that I have always longed to gaze upon. My grandfather and father shared many an adventure here on “La Mere Rouge†and now it was my turn, separated by only a few decades, it is another chapter in my never ending journey to share something with two men who have shaped not only my life but the world at large; two men, my father who I never knew but for the stories, books, and films he created, and my grandfather who I knew only briefly, but both of whom I am only beginning to understand as I have embarked on these varied adventures over the past year.
Tomorrow we will stand on the bottom of what will someday be a new ocean and, if we’re lucky, even be able to dive into it and swim between two continental plates that are radically altering the geological course of our planet’s history.
