In 2015, ocean scientists from the University of Liverpool encountered a unique phenomenon in the Caribbean. They were measuring the relationship between sea level and ocean pressure to see how the climate crisis might impact these two processes. Their lyrical discovery connected me to the sublime forces of nature.
Every 120 days, entire communities of marine life begin a journey on the shallow waves of the Caribbean sea. Propelled by winds and underwater geography, the low amplitude swells curl, glide and soar, traveling 1000 km.
As the cyclical pattern of waves move west towards central America, the waves get larger and gain momentum. They engage with seafloor mountain ranges that are in places nearly the height of Mount Everest.
The tide completes its journey when it collides with the western boundary of the Caribbean basin, near Venezuela and Columbia. The sloshing of water in and out of the ocean basin produces buoyant vibrations.
Scientists have discovered that waves of specific shapes and sizes resonate upon hitting the western wall, similar to how certain frequencies reverberate when you blow into a whistle.
The Caribbean ocean current is unique because it is contained within the Atlantic ocean and enables water exchange between the two seas. When jets of air within the sea become unstable, they generate an echo chamber that fits inside the ocean basin. The sound of vibrating water radiates out so you can hear it.
The sea whistles!
It sings a deep A-flat 28 octaves below the lowest note on a piano. Our ears don’t hear it. We don’t have the range to detect it.
However, this conversation between rocks and water can be heard in outer space. Satellites can detect and measure oscillations, revealing changes in Earth’s gravity field.
The remarkable journey of the Caribbean Sea inspires me to imagine a place where the seafloor communicates with the galaxies. It’s a place where the space between notes is filled with music.