Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Mystery of the phantom islands solved: Lands that disappeared on ancient maps are revealed as mistakes, mirages and myths

The Zeno map of 1558 showing Frisland – a phantom island in the North Atlantic

From The DailyMail by Victoria Woollaston

  • Phantom islands are lands that appeared on maps before being removed
  • This includes islands which were spotted once but never seen again
  • While others were parts of existing lands and later renamed
  • In some cases it’s believed these phantom islands were mirages
  • The Emerald Island phantom also remained until as late as 1987
Today it’s easy to explore foreign lands and oceans simply by using Google Maps, but centuries ago, when these worlds were first discovered, people had no choice but to rely on the tales of explorers.
As these adventurers sailed uncharted seas and plotted what they saw, it was taken on face value that the lands they described existed.
Maps featuring these mysterious, and at times imaginary, places were copied and recreated for centuries - and in the case of the non-existent Emerald Island in the South Pacific, featured in atlases as late as 1987.

What is a phantom island ?

Centuries ago when the first explorers were traveling the world, people back home had to rely on the accuracy of their sightings.
As these explorers sailed the seas and plotted what they saw, it was taken on face value that these islands existed.
However, despite appearing on maps for decades, some of these spotted islands were never seen again, while others were renamed.
This phenomenon became known as the 'phantom island'.
Some were geographical errors, some were islands that were later reclassified or re-identified, while and some were mysterious land masses that people claimed to have visited but others couldn’t find.

 This map shows the location of phantom islands that appears on maps from the early 16th century, but later disappeared or were renamed


In the 1820s, British explorers on a ship called the Emerald reported sightings of an island south of the Macquarie Island, between New Zealand and Antarctica.

In the 1820s, British explorers on a ship called Emerald reported sightings of an island south of the Macquarie Island, between New Zealand and Antarctica, pictured bottom left.
However expeditions in 1840 and 1909 found no trace of it.
Despite this, the Emerald Island appeared on maps until 1987
This map shows where reports claimed the mysterious Emerald Island was located.
It is thought that the sightings were Fata Morganas, or mirages, similar to those seen in the desert, but are spotted in polar regions

Captain William Elliot and his crew wrote that the landmass, later called Emerald Island after the ship he was sailing on, was small and mountainous.
However, explorers from the U.S. who tried to locate the mysterious isle in 1840 found no trace of it.
The island was later spotted by a captain visiting Port Chalmers in New Zealand some 50 years after this expedition, yet a follow-up search by Captain John King Davis in 1909, on board the ship Nimrod, again found nothing.
 1912 German map showing Emerald Island south of Macquarie Island

Despite this, the Emerald Island featured on maps and in atlases until at least 1987, although it was gradually removed from many during that time.
In trying to explain these mysterious sightings, historians thought that Elliot and his crew may have seen what is called a Fata Morgana, or a mirage, similar to those seen in the desert but are spotted in polar regions.


Similarly, the Isle of Demons, was a mysterious mass of land off the coast of Newfoundland that first appeared on maps during the 16th century, before disappearing by the mid-17th century.

Legend has it that a woman called Marguerite de La Rocque was sailing to New France in Canada, now known as Quebec, and became pregnant to a sailor in 1542.
She was abandoned on the so-called Isle of Demons as punishment, to live with the devils and wild beasts that inhabited the area.
Two years later she was rescued by fishermen and taken to France, where the story became popular folklore and was even mentioned in poems by the late 19th century poet George Martin.
It is thought the island that de La Rocque was marooned on was part of Quirpon Island in the Labrador Sea, off the coast of Canada.

The Isle of Demons, was a mysterious mass of land off the coast of Newfoundland that first appeared on maps during the 16th century, pictured here in 1543, before disappearing by the mid 17th century
The story of the Isle of Demons became popular folklore and was mentioned in poems by the late 19th century poet George Martin.
It is thought the island was part of Quirpon Island in the Labrador Sea, pictured, off the coast of Canada

The Isle of Demons first appeared in 1508 and was often confused with the island of Satanazes, which means devils in Portuguese, located in the Atlantic Ocean.
According to portolan charts, or navigational maps, from 1424, Satanazes was shown to the west of Portugal, and north of another phantom island called Antillia.
It was shown with the inscription ‘Ista ixolla dixemo satanazes’ which means ‘This is the island called of the devils’.
This island was never formerly identified, but along with Antillia, many historians believe the two islands to be the coasts of North and South America.
More specifically, Satanazes may have been Florida, while Antillia may be what early explorers called modern-day Cuba, although this has never been verified.


The legend of Antillia is believed to have originated during the Muslim conquest of Hispania in 714.
Christian bishops, looking to flee the peninsula, were said to have sailed until they landed on an island known then as Antilha.

According to reports, the Isle of Demons was often confused with the island of Satanazes.
Charts from 1424 show Satanazes to the west of Portugal, right, near another phantom island called Antillia, left.
Many historians believe the two islands to be the coasts of North and South America

It first appeared on maps and nautical charts from 1424 until the 15th century, although after 1492 when the region was more accurately charted, the island was removed from many maps.

Frisland 

Frisland was a phantom island that appeared on maps of the North Atlantic for almost 100 years between the mid-1500s to 1660s.
It appeared on a 1558 map as an island to the south of Iceland and continued to feature on the maps of famous cartographers Maggiolo, Mercator and Jodocus Hodius through the 16th century.
It was left off some of the early maps of Europe in the 17th century, but reappeared in 1630 off the east coast of Labrador.
However, by 1652, it no longer featured on the world map and was never recorded again.
Historians have claimed Frisland was part of Iceland, and later Greenland, or may have even been the Faroe Islands.
However, explorers in the mid-18th century who were responsible for mapping the waters where Frisland was thought to be, claimed the island was in fact Fair Isle, an island found between Shetland and Orkney Islands off the coast of Scotland.

Frisland was a phantom island that appeared on maps of the North Atlantic for between the mid-1500s and 1660s.
It appeared on a 1558 map, pictured, as an island to the south of Iceland and continued to feature on the maps of famous cartographers Maggiolo, Mercator and Jodocus Hodius through the 16th century
Historians have claimed Frisland was part of Iceland, and later Greenland, or may have even been the Faroe Islands.


In a similar region to Frisland, explorers reported sightings of an island that later became known as Thule.
The island was first referred to by Greek geographer Strabo.
In his reports of the ancient world called the Geographica, which Strabo was said to have begun as early as 20 BC, he recalls an account fellow Greek geographer Pytheas made of Thule in the 4th century BC.

Phantom islands are islands that appeared on maps before disappearing.
Among these is Thule, pictured here on the 1539 Carta Marina as Tile.
The island was first referred to by Greek geographer Strabo in reports taken from the 4th century BC. It was later identified as Greenland

Pytheas’ eye-witness account described the inhabitants of Thule as having ‘fertile land’ in which they grew fruit, crops, grain and honey.
Yet, the area lacked sunshine and floors were often ruined by rain.
They were also believed to paint themselves blue and ride on chariots, according to Roman poems.
Thule was always shown on maps, based on Strabo’s accounts, in the far north of the globe, yet the exact location varied from Norway to Orkney, Shetland and Scandinavia.
During the Renaissance period, the island was also identified as Iceland and Greenland.
More recently a municipality in northern Greenland once called Thule was renamed Avannaa. 

Links :

Monday, January 19, 2015

Asian piracy soars amid global decline

The Maritime Threat Picture globally monitors maritime incidents, casualties and threats to shipping; enabling companies to respond quickly to current incidents that may impact immediately 
- courtesy of GreyPage (click for dynamic viewing) -

  • Piracy, armed attacks on ships in Asia at highest since 2006
  • Armed guards not a solution to attacks -security expert
  • ReCAAP proposing extension of navy, coast guard patrols

From Reuters by Keith Wallis
Asia accounted for three-quarters of global maritime piracy last year after a surge in tanker hijackings helped to fuel a 22 percent jump in armed robbery and pirate attacks on ships in the region.

Total incidents per region in 2014, IMB Piracy Report Centre
see 2015 incidents

There were 183 actual and attempted piracy and robbery of ships in Asian waters last year, against 150 in 2013, a intergovernmental anti-piracy group told shipping industry and law enforcement personnel on Wednesday.
This put Asia's share of the total at 75 percent, after the International Maritime Bureau (IMB) released its global report for 2014 showing there were 245 actual and attempted acts of piracy worldwide last year.

In 2013, piracy in Asia accounted for less than 60 percent of the total.
However, attacks in Asia are mainly low level theft compared with kidnappings and more violent hijackings off West Africa and Somalia.


The number of attacks in Asia last year is the highest since 2006, when the Regional Cooperation Agreement on Combating Piracy and Armed Robbery against Ships in Asia (ReCAAP), a co-ordinating body with 20 government members, started compiling incident reports.

The rise in Asian piracy last year was due to the surge in tanker hijackings and better reporting by ship owners, ReCAAP deputy director Nicholas Teo told Reuters.
"There is no hiding the fact the 22 percent increase is significant and worrying," said Tim Wilkins, Asia regional manager for international tanker owners group, Intertanko.

Malacca Straight passage

While 114 attacks reported by ReCAAP were thefts from ships, mainly at ports and anchorages, the danger to crews should not be ignored, he said.
"The threat of violence is still reasonably significant," Wilkins told Reuters.
An engineer died after being shot by pirates who seized a tanker near Singapore in December, one of 15 tanker hijacking in Asia last year.
In addition, 12 tankers in Asian waters had their gasoil cargoes siphoned and stolen last year.


Putting armed guards onboard ships passing through the Malacca Strait and nearby waters - where many of the attacks occur - was not a solution and could increase the danger to sailors, a maritime security expert said.

"Using armed guards against hijackings, cargo thefts and shipboard robbery incidents around Singapore could result in an escalation in the level of violence used by the perpetrators," said Mark Thomas, Asia Pacific business development manager at maritime security consultancy Dryad Maritime in Singapore.
ReCAAP is proposing an extension of naval and coast guard patrols from the Malacca Strait into the South China Sea to help combat tanker hijackings and piracy incidents, Teo said.

Links :

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Saturday, January 17, 2015

Between home


Artist and amateur sailor, Nick Jaffe, has been living in Berlin and has decided to take the long way home to Australia, sailing his 1972 Contessa 26.
Some call it brave, others think it’s crazy, but Nick decides to sail solo from the UK to Australia, negotiating the treacherous waters of the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans.
The camera onboard his boat is often Nick’s only companion on a trip that ends up taking over two years.
It captures his reflective musings, his joyful excitement and his isolated struggles in this unique, poetic adventure documentary.
Both the freedom and the fragility of cutting oneself from “life issues” has never seemed more powerfully in play as Nick turns his camera out to the ocean with an endless empty horizon in each and every direction.

Friday, January 16, 2015

Governing the high seas : in deep water

Humans are damaging the high seas.
Now the oceans are doing harm back

From Business Insider UK originally appeared at The Economist

About 3 billion people live within 100 miles (160km) of the sea, a number that could double in the next decade as humans flock to coastal cities like gulls.
The oceans produce $3 trillion of goods and services each year and untold value for the Earth’s ecology.
Life could not exist without these vast water reserves—and, if anything, they are becoming even more important to humans than before.

Mining is about to begin under the seabed in the high seas—the regions outside the exclusive economic zones administered by coastal and island nations, which stretch 200 nautical miles (370km) offshore.
Nineteen exploratory licences have been issued.
New summer shipping lanes are opening across the Arctic Ocean.
The genetic resources of marine life promise a pharmaceutical bonanza: the number of patents has been rising at 12% a year.
One study found that genetic material from the seas is a hundred times more likely to have anti-cancer properties than that from terrestrial life.

But these developments are minor compared with vaster forces reshaping the Earth, both on land and at sea.
It has long been clear that people are damaging the oceans—witness the melting of the Arctic ice in summer, the spread of oxygen-starved dead zones and the death of coral reefs.
Now, the consequences of that damage are starting to be felt onshore.

Thailand provides a vivid example.
In the 1990s it cleared coastal mangrove swamps to set up shrimp farms.
Ocean storm surges in 2011, no longer cushioned by the mangroves, rushed in to flood the country’s industrial heartland, causing billions of dollars of damage.


More serious is the global mismanagement of fish stocks.
About 3 billion people get a fifth of their protein from fish, making it a more important protein source than beef.
But a vicious cycle has developed as fish stocks decline and fishermen race to grab what they can of the remainder.
According to the Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO), a third of fish stocks in the oceans are over-exploited; some estimates say the proportion is more than half (see chart).
One study suggested that stocks of big predatory species—such as tuna, swordfish and marlin—may have fallen by as much as 90% since the 1950s.
People could be eating much better, were fishing stocks properly managed.

The forests are often called the lungs of the Earth, but the description better fits the oceans.
They produce half the world’s supply of oxygen, mostly through photosynthesis by aquatic algae and other organisms.
But according to a forthcoming report by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC; the group of scientists who advise governments on global warming), concentrations of chlorophyll (which helps makes oxygen) have fallen by 9-12% in 1998-2010 in the North Pacific, Indian and North Atlantic Oceans.

Climate change may be the reason.
At the moment, the oceans are moderating the impact of global warming—though that may not last (see article).
Warm water rises, so an increase in sea temperatures tends to separate cold and warm water into more distinct layers, with shallower mixed layers in between.
That seems to lower the quantity of nutrients available for aquatic algae, and to lead to decreased chlorophyll concentrations.
Changes in the oceans, therefore, may mean less oxygen will be produced.
This cannot be good news, though scientists are still debating the likely consequences.
The world is not about to suffocate.
But the result could be lower oxygen concentrations in the oceans and changes to the climate because the counterpart of less oxygen is more carbon—adding to the build-up of greenhouse gases.
In short, the decades of damage wreaked on the oceans are now damaging the terrestrial environment.


A fisherman walks towards his boat in Khao Lak, Phang Nga province . His way of life, along with

A tragedy foretold

The oceans exemplify the “tragedy of the commons”—the depletion of commonly held property by individual users, who harm their own long-term interests as a result.
For decades scientists warned that the European Union’s fishing quotas were too high, and for decades fishing lobbyists persuaded politicians to ignore them.
Now what everyone knew would happen has happened: three-quarters of the fish stocks in European waters are over-exploited and some are close to collapse.

The salient feature of such a tragedy is that the full cost of damaging the system is not borne by those doing the damage.
This is most obvious in fishing, but goes further. Invasive species of many kinds are moved around the world by human activity—and do an estimated $100 billion of damage to oceans each year.
Farmers dump excess fertiliser into rivers, which finds its way to the sea; there cyanobacteria (blue-green algae) feed on the nutrients, proliferate madly and reduce oxygen levels, asphyxiating all sea creatures. In 2008, there were over 400 “dead zones” in the oceans.
Polluters pump out carbon dioxide, which dissolves in seawater, producing carbonic acid.
That in turn has increased ocean acidity by over a quarter since the start of the Industrial Revolution. In 2012, scientists found pteropods (a kind of sea snail) in the Southern Ocean with partially dissolved shells.

It is sometimes possible to preserve commons by assigning private property rights over them, thus giving users a bigger stake in their long-term health.
That is being tried in coastal and island nations’ exclusive economic zones.
But it does not apply on the high seas.
Under international law, fishing there is open to all and minerals count as “the common heritage of mankind”.
Here, a mishmash of international rules and institutions determines the condition of the watery commons.

The high seas are not ungoverned.
Almost every country has ratified the UN Convention on the Law of the Sea (UNCLOS), which, in the words of Tommy Koh, president of UNCLOS in the 1980s, is “a constitution for the oceans”.
It sets rules for everything from military activities and territorial disputes (like those in the South China Sea) to shipping, deep-sea mining and fishing.
Although it came into force only in 1994, it embodies centuries-old customary laws, including the freedom of the seas, which says the high seas are open to all.
UNCLOS took decades to negotiate and is sacrosanct.
Even America, which refuses to sign it, abides by its provisions.

But UNCLOS has significant faults.
It is weak on conservation and the environment, since most of it was negotiated in the 1970s when these topics were barely considered.
It has no powers to enforce or punish.
America’s refusal to sign makes the problem worse: although it behaves in accordance with UNCLOS, it is reluctant to push others to do likewise.

Alphabet bouillabaisse


Specialised bodies have been set up to oversee a few parts of the treaty, such as the International Seabed Authority, which regulates mining beneath the high seas.
But for the most part UNCLOS relies on member countries and existing organisations for monitoring and enforcement.
The result is a baffling tangle of overlapping authorities (see diagram) that is described by the Global Ocean Commission, a new high-level lobby group, as a “co-ordinated catastrophe”.

Individually, some of the institutions work well enough.
The International Maritime Organisation, which regulates global shipping, keeps a register of merchant and passenger vessels, which must carry identification numbers.
The result is a reasonably law-abiding global industry.
It is also responsible for one of the rare success stories of recent decades, the standards applying to routine and accidental discharges of pollution from ships.
But even it is flawed.
The Institute for Advanced Sustainability Studies, a German think-tank, rates it as the least transparent international organisation.
And it is dominated by insiders: contributions, and therefore influence, are weighted by tonnage.

Other institutions look good on paper but are untested.
This is the case with the seabed authority, which has drawn up a global regime for deep-sea mining that is more up-to-date than most national mining codes.
For once, therefore, countries have settled the rules before an activity gets under way, rather than trying to catch up when the damage starts, as happened with fishing.

The problem here is political rather than regulatory: how should mining revenues be distributed? Deep-sea minerals are supposed to be “the common heritage of mankind”.
Does that mean everyone is entitled to a part?
And how to share it out?

The biggest failure, though, is in the regulation of fishing.
Overfishing does more damage to the oceans than all other human activities there put together.
In theory, high-seas fishing is overseen by an array of regional bodies.
Some cover individual species, such as the International Commission for the Conservation of Atlantic Tunas (ICCAT, also known as the International Conspiracy to Catch All Tuna).
Others cover fishing in a particular area, such as the north-east Atlantic or the South Pacific Oceans. They decide what sort of fishing gear may be used, set limits on the quantity of fish that can be caught and how many ships are allowed in an area, and so on.

Here, too, there have been successes.
Stocks of north-east Arctic cod are now the highest of any cod species and the highest they have been since 1945—even though the permitted catch is also at record levels.
This proves it is possible to have healthy stocks and a healthy fishing industry.
But it is a bilateral, not an international, achievement: only Norway and Russia capture these fish and they jointly follow scientists’ advice about how much to take.

There has also been some progress in controlling the sort of fishing gear that does the most damage. In 1991 the UN banned drift nets longer than 2.5km (these are nets that hang down from the surface; some were 50km long).
A series of national and regional restrictions in the 2000s placed limits on “bottom trawling” (hoovering up everything on the seabed)—which most people at the time thought unachievable.

But the overall record is disastrous.
Two-thirds of fish stocks on the high seas are over-exploited—twice as much as in parts of oceans under national jurisdiction.
Illegal and unreported fishing is worth $10 billion-24 billion a year—about a quarter of the total catch.
According to the World Bank, the mismanagement of fisheries costs $50 billion or more a year, meaning that the fishing industry would reap at least that much in efficiency gains if it were properly managed.

Most regional fishery bodies have too little money to combat illegal fishermen.
They do not know how many vessels are in their waters because there is no global register of fishing boats.
Their rules only bind their members; outsiders can break them with impunity.
An expert review of ICCAT, the tuna commission, ordered by the organisation itself concluded that it was “an international disgrace”.
A survey by the FAO found that over half the countries reporting on surveillance and enforcement on the high seas said they could not control vessels sailing under their flags.
Even if they wanted to, then, it is not clear that regional fishery bodies or individual countries could make much difference.

But it is far from clear that many really want to.
Almost all are dominated by fishing interests.
The exceptions are the organisation for Antarctica, where scientific researchers are influential, and the International Whaling Commission, which admitted environmentalists early on.
Not by coincidence, these are the two that have taken conservation most seriously.

A dwindling catch

Empty promises

Countries could do more to stop vessels suspected of illegal fishing from docking in their harbours—but they don’t.
The FAO’s attempt to set up a voluntary register of high-seas fishing boats has been becalmed for years.
The UN has a fish-stocks agreement that imposes stricter demands than regional fishery bodies. It requires signatories to impose tough sanctions on ships that break the rules.
But only 80 countries have ratified it, compared with the 165 parties to UNCLOS.
One study found that 28 nations, which together account for 40% of the world’s catch, are failing to meet most of the requirements of an FAO code of conduct which they have signed up to.

It is not merely that particular institutions are weak.
The system itself is dysfunctional.
There are organisations for fishing, mining and shipping, but none for the oceans as a whole. Regional seas organisations, whose main responsibility is to cut pollution, generally do not cover the same areas as regional fishery bodies, and the two rarely work well together.
(In the north-east Atlantic, the one case where the boundaries coincide, they have done a lot.)
Dozens of organisations play some role in the oceans (including 16 in the UN alone) but the outfit that is supposed to co-ordinate them, called UN-Oceans, is an ad-hoc body without oversight authority.
There are no proper arrangements for monitoring, assessing or reporting on how the various organisations are doing—and no one to tell them if they are failing.

Pressure for change is finally building up. According to David Miliband, a former British foreign secretary who is now co-chairman of the Global Ocean Commission, the current mess is a “terrible betrayal” of current and future generations.
“We need a new approach to the economics and governance of the high seas,” he says.

That could take different forms.
Environmentalists want a moratorium on overfished stocks, which on the high seas would mean most of them.
They also want regional bodies to demand impact assessments before issuing fishing licenses.
The UN Development Program says rich countries should switch some of the staggering $35 billion a year they spend subsidizing fishing on the high seas (through things like cheap fuel and vessel-buy-back programs) to creating marine reserves—protected areas like national parks.

A scuba diver takes pictures of a turtle close to Wolf Island at Galapagos Marine Reserve.

Others focus on institutional reform.
The European Union and 77 developing countries want an “implementing agreement” to strengthen the environmental and conservation provisions of UNCLOS.
They had hoped to start what will doubtless be lengthy negotiations at a UN conference in Rio de Janeiro in 2012. But opposition from Russia and America forced a postponement; talks are now supposed to start by August 2015.

Still others say that efforts should be concentrated on improving the regional bodies, by giving them more money, greater enforcement powers and mandates that include the overall health of their bits of the ocean.
The German Advisory Council on Global Change, a think-tank set up by the government, argues for an entirely new UN body, a World Oceans Organization, which it hopes would increase awareness of ocean mismanagement among governments, and simplify and streamline the current organizational tangle.

According to Elinor Ostrom, who won the Nobel prize for economics in 2009, to avoid a tragedy of the commons requires giving everyone entitled to use them a say in running them; setting clear boundaries to keep out those who are not entitled; appointing monitors who are trusted by users; and having straightforward mechanisms to resolve conflicts.
At the moment, the governance of the high seas meets none of those criteria.

Changes to high-seas management would still do nothing for two of the worst problems, both caused on land: acidification and pollution.
But they are the best and perhaps only hope of improving the condition of half of the Earth’s surface.

Links :
  • NYTimes : Ocean life faces mass extinction, broad study says