9 The Underwater Landscape
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The final way in which the underwater landscape was characterised (present in
the answers of 5 out of 76 divers) established a comparison with more familiar
forms of landscape, generally terrestrial. This comparison is, at times, the reflection
of an identification process by assimilation. In some cases this is explicit, ‘Like a
terrestrial landscape, the underwater landscape is a coherent assembly of forms and
colours forming the relief.’ ‘As on land, there are valleys, hills and many marvels
on which to feast the eye. . . ’. At other times, the comparison is indirectly suggested,
‘It’s a place with blue skies beneath which the relief unfolds, at times rugged, at
others less so, and which could give rise to mountains, meadows and plains.’ In this
example, the language used to describe the underwater landscape could well be used
to describe landscapes on solid ground (blue sky, mountains, meadows, plains, etc.).
Yet the comparison also serves to highlight a distinction: in this light, the underwater
landscape is ‘another way of seeing things, unlike on terra firma.’
Over and above the six specific categories defined here concerning the terms
in which the divers define the underwater landscape, our analysis of the results of
the survey also sheds light on three elements for cross-disciplinary reflection—the
importance of the imaginary world, a specific bond with nature and the desire to
protect it, and a highly individual relationship with time.
The language used by the divers confirms the way in which the imaginary world is
omni-present when they seek to define the undersea world. The use of such adjectives
as ‘magical’ or ‘marvellous’ bear ample witness to this. For example, the underwater landscape is described as being ‘an extraordinary voyage’, ‘a magical place in
which to let the imagination run free’, ‘a fabulous backdrop’ triggering an ‘imaginary world’. . . The reference to ‘tiny and sometimes ENORMOUS multi-coloured
creatures’ also harks back to fabulous beasts of old and the sea monsters, so firmly
implanted in the collective unconscious. The only difference here is their colourful
nature, which renders them less terrifying.
Describing the underwater landscape also provided an opportunity for many divers
to express their particular bond with nature, so clearly present for them in the undersea
landscape. The chance to observe that landscape means ‘contemplating nature in
submerged worlds.’ These worlds are the ‘expression of a natural beauty’ (nonartificial) imbued with ‘wildness’ to be explored. ‘Virgin territory, devoid of all trace
of human existence,’ ‘nature in its raw state.’ The divers’ emotional investment is all
the stronger when they experience their exploration of the underwater landscape as
an ephemeral but possible quest to return to ‘nature in her original state,’ like some
‘lost paradise’, ‘fragile paradise’, ‘extraordinary garden [of Eden] we must strive
to protect’, ‘a wonder of creation of which we are the privileged guests, filling us
with a sense of respect and the ephemeral nature of these moments of cohabitation.’
The question of conservation inevitably raises its head:‘It’s a joy we must protect at
all costs.’
Finally, the way in which the divers describe the underwater landscape bears
witness to a particular relationship with time. This is sometimes expressed through
references to contrasting timescales (the ‘slow’ pace of the surrounding landscape
versus the ‘short’ length of the dive, for example). The words of one apnoea diver
bear eloquent witness to this idea. For him, the landscape is ‘a snap shot of the
marine ecosystem with its flora, fauna and history, its present and its future as the
145
The final way in which the underwater landscape was characterised (present in
the answers of 5 out of 76 divers) established a comparison with more familiar
forms of landscape, generally terrestrial. This comparison is, at times, the reflection
of an identification process by assimilation. In some cases this is explicit, ‘Like a
terrestrial landscape, the underwater landscape is a coherent assembly of forms and
colours forming the relief.’ ‘As on land, there are valleys, hills and many marvels
on which to feast the eye. . . ’. At other times, the comparison is indirectly suggested,
‘It’s a place with blue skies beneath which the relief unfolds, at times rugged, at
others less so, and which could give rise to mountains, meadows and plains.’ In this
example, the language used to describe the underwater landscape could well be used
to describe landscapes on solid ground (blue sky, mountains, meadows, plains, etc.).
Yet the comparison also serves to highlight a distinction: in this light, the underwater
landscape is ‘another way of seeing things, unlike on terra firma.’
Over and above the six specific categories defined here concerning the terms
in which the divers define the underwater landscape, our analysis of the results of
the survey also sheds light on three elements for cross-disciplinary reflection—the
importance of the imaginary world, a specific bond with nature and the desire to
protect it, and a highly individual relationship with time.
The language used by the divers confirms the way in which the imaginary world is
omni-present when they seek to define the undersea world. The use of such adjectives
as ‘magical’ or ‘marvellous’ bear ample witness to this. For example, the underwater landscape is described as being ‘an extraordinary voyage’, ‘a magical place in
which to let the imagination run free’, ‘a fabulous backdrop’ triggering an ‘imaginary world’. . . The reference to ‘tiny and sometimes ENORMOUS multi-coloured
creatures’ also harks back to fabulous beasts of old and the sea monsters, so firmly
implanted in the collective unconscious. The only difference here is their colourful
nature, which renders them less terrifying.
Describing the underwater landscape also provided an opportunity for many divers
to express their particular bond with nature, so clearly present for them in the undersea
landscape. The chance to observe that landscape means ‘contemplating nature in
submerged worlds.’ These worlds are the ‘expression of a natural beauty’ (nonartificial) imbued with ‘wildness’ to be explored. ‘Virgin territory, devoid of all trace
of human existence,’ ‘nature in its raw state.’ The divers’ emotional investment is all
the stronger when they experience their exploration of the underwater landscape as
an ephemeral but possible quest to return to ‘nature in her original state,’ like some
‘lost paradise’, ‘fragile paradise’, ‘extraordinary garden [of Eden] we must strive
to protect’, ‘a wonder of creation of which we are the privileged guests, filling us
with a sense of respect and the ephemeral nature of these moments of cohabitation.’
The question of conservation inevitably raises its head:‘It’s a joy we must protect at
all costs.’
Finally, the way in which the divers describe the underwater landscape bears
witness to a particular relationship with time. This is sometimes expressed through
references to contrasting timescales (the ‘slow’ pace of the surrounding landscape
versus the ‘short’ length of the dive, for example). The words of one apnoea diver
bear eloquent witness to this idea. For him, the landscape is ‘a snap shot of the
marine ecosystem with its flora, fauna and history, its present and its future as the