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E. Bigando
It was during the 1980s in France that recreational diving, practised almost exclusively as a sport, became a ‘natural environment’ leisure activity, spurred on by the
growing popularity of ‘American style’ diving, and a growing concern for environmental matters. Diving was no longer a mere end in itself, but a way of discovering
the undersea world, as well as a nature-lovers’consumer activity (Musard 2003). This
raises the question of the role played by the underwater landscape in this activity—in
terrestrial outdoor activities the landscape’s role is an essential one—and the ways
in which divers grasp the ‘underwater landscape’, both in terms of their experiences
(emotions and sensations) and symbolic representations.
The late 1980s also saw the massive democratisation of scuba diving (Musard
2003), which opened up the subaqueous world for ordinary people, rather than the
(sporting) elite alone, in the same way as the ‘joys’ of discovering far-flung terrestrial
environments, originally the prerogative of an initiated privileged few with a taste
for landscape aesthetics, are now accessible for society at large. If we add to this the
current rise in the number of underwater trails, accessible for those equipped with
flippers, a diving mask and snorkel, and the boom in the number of glass-bottom boats
and semi-submarines, then it is quite clear that the underwater environment may now
be discovered at first hand; in other words, without an intermediary medium, whether
that medium be virtual or not (drawings, photos, videos, etc.). Our relationship
with the underwater environment is therefore changing, no longer based solely on
imaginary constructions, but rooted in tangible reality. Does that mean, however,
that the underwater world can be considered as a landscape? Is that the way divers
themselves experience that world?
We shall not let ourselves be drawn into the sterile debate as to whether we may
legitimately refer to the underwater environment as a ‘landscape’, especially if we
consider the term’s original meaning
2 . Use of the word has evolved greatly since it
first came into common parlance in contemporary western society, and experiencing
the landscape has now become an integral part of how we apprehend our environment,
be it our everyday surroundings or not (Bigando 2006). Popularisation of the term
‘landscape’ has extended its dominion far beyond the sphere of everyday usage, and
it has now become part and parcel of how we live our lives and interpret the world
around us, a world whose frontiers we are forever pushing back. Using the term
to refer to the submarine environment should not then be considered as a misuse
of language (or of concept, for that matter), all the more so when one observes
that underwater diving is increasingly being enjoyed as a contemplative activity,
motivated by naturalist concerns. Could we envisage, then, that some individuals
seek to immerse themselves beneath the water’s surface for reasons similar to those
of others who scale mountain tops, trek across deserts, journey deep into tropical
rainforests, conquer the poles or perhaps, in a more or less distant future, will take
their first steps on the moon, all to experience the natural, unspoilt beauty of other,
less routine, landscapes?
2 It should not be forgotten that, initially, the term landscape, generally defined as an expanse of
country that offers itself to our gaze, referred to the pictorial representation of that scenery.
E. Bigando
It was during the 1980s in France that recreational diving, practised almost exclusively as a sport, became a ‘natural environment’ leisure activity, spurred on by the
growing popularity of ‘American style’ diving, and a growing concern for environmental matters. Diving was no longer a mere end in itself, but a way of discovering
the undersea world, as well as a nature-lovers’consumer activity (Musard 2003). This
raises the question of the role played by the underwater landscape in this activity—in
terrestrial outdoor activities the landscape’s role is an essential one—and the ways
in which divers grasp the ‘underwater landscape’, both in terms of their experiences
(emotions and sensations) and symbolic representations.
The late 1980s also saw the massive democratisation of scuba diving (Musard
2003), which opened up the subaqueous world for ordinary people, rather than the
(sporting) elite alone, in the same way as the ‘joys’ of discovering far-flung terrestrial
environments, originally the prerogative of an initiated privileged few with a taste
for landscape aesthetics, are now accessible for society at large. If we add to this the
current rise in the number of underwater trails, accessible for those equipped with
flippers, a diving mask and snorkel, and the boom in the number of glass-bottom boats
and semi-submarines, then it is quite clear that the underwater environment may now
be discovered at first hand; in other words, without an intermediary medium, whether
that medium be virtual or not (drawings, photos, videos, etc.). Our relationship
with the underwater environment is therefore changing, no longer based solely on
imaginary constructions, but rooted in tangible reality. Does that mean, however,
that the underwater world can be considered as a landscape? Is that the way divers
themselves experience that world?
We shall not let ourselves be drawn into the sterile debate as to whether we may
legitimately refer to the underwater environment as a ‘landscape’, especially if we
consider the term’s original meaning
2 . Use of the word has evolved greatly since it
first came into common parlance in contemporary western society, and experiencing
the landscape has now become an integral part of how we apprehend our environment,
be it our everyday surroundings or not (Bigando 2006). Popularisation of the term
‘landscape’ has extended its dominion far beyond the sphere of everyday usage, and
it has now become part and parcel of how we live our lives and interpret the world
around us, a world whose frontiers we are forever pushing back. Using the term
to refer to the submarine environment should not then be considered as a misuse
of language (or of concept, for that matter), all the more so when one observes
that underwater diving is increasingly being enjoyed as a contemplative activity,
motivated by naturalist concerns. Could we envisage, then, that some individuals
seek to immerse themselves beneath the water’s surface for reasons similar to those
of others who scale mountain tops, trek across deserts, journey deep into tropical
rainforests, conquer the poles or perhaps, in a more or less distant future, will take
their first steps on the moon, all to experience the natural, unspoilt beauty of other,
less routine, landscapes?
2 It should not be forgotten that, initially, the term landscape, generally defined as an expanse of
country that offers itself to our gaze, referred to the pictorial representation of that scenery.