In the heart of the Middle East, occupying 80 percent of the eastern shoreline of the Red Sea, sits the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. It covers an area of over 870, 000 square miles, almost all of which is desert, which holds more than a quarter of the world’s oil reserves.
The sun was just greeting the day as I hurried to the top deck of our cruise boat with a steaming hot cup of coffee in one hand and a camera in the other. I was alone, enjoying the splender of another Egyptian morning. Wispy veils of fog danced across the Nile’s glassy surface, slowly dissipating as the sun’s rays enveloped the distant mountains and countryside.
Blending her love of the sea and its cherished creatures with the ancient art of Batik, a die and wax technique on silk, Sue Dudas has created an ocean of art work to delight the most hardy sea lover.
“Sui Generis” is the most appropriate way I find to describe the Galapagos Islands. A place where the intruder is the human being. A place where many of its inhabitants are animals that exist only in this small piece of the world. A place where evolution seems to have been suspended at some moment in time. A place where we can feel like pioneers in each corner.
Thomas P. Peschak is a marine biologist based at the University of Cape Town’s Marine Biology Research Institute, where he conducts scientific research on kelp forests, illegal fishing and the ecology of sea otters. He is an experienced field biologist and professional diver who has worked extensively in Africa, Central America, the Middle East and the South Pacific.
I have been an underwater photographer and filmmaker for more than 25 years. I share the grave concerns of many who fear that our generation will bequeath future generations the legacy of a planet, poisoned and stripped of its assets and its beauty.
A move to the remote northern Scottish province of Orkney sparked a love of the sea, fishing and diving for the increasingly known metals artist, Sam MacDonald.
“El Dorado” reminds me of the mythical land of gold and riches that is dreamt of by treasure seekers. As I aimed my camera in search of the exotic marine wildlife of the “El Dorado” house reef, I felt like a treasure hunter from the fable.
”They don’t eat people … do they?”
I can still remember the strain of uncertainty in the voice during the conversation. It is now several years ago since we sat together in the compartment of the train on its way north through Northern Sweden’s misty autumnal wilderness.
I slap my hands on the water and two bottlenose dolphins swim toward me, propelled by a few flicks of their tails. The 400-pound creatures push hard on my feet with their noses and skim me across the surface of the warm Caribbean lagoon.
