THE cenotes of Mexico’s Yucatán peninsula are undeniably magical places. These large sinkholes, formed by the dissolution and collapse of limestone bedrock, expose groundwater beneath. In this arid land with almost no rivers or surface lakes, they became a vital source of drinking water. The discovery of precious artefacts and human skeletons in some cenotes confirm the sacred esteem they were held in by the Mayan civilisation, who believed they were gateways to the underworld.
The image above, and those below, are from the Freshwater Project, a global odyssey by Swiss photographer Michel Roggo covering 40 locations across the world between 2010 and 2017. The project serves to illustrate the phrase “still waters often run deep”. It also shows the diversity of environments found in fresh water, which often matches that of more familiar terrestrial ecosystems.
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The diver in the picture above is Camilo Garcia, investigating the Dos Ojos, or “two eye” cenote, named for its two openings at ground level. It is one of the cenotes along the Yucatán’s Caribbean coast, where fresh water meets seawater in extensive networks of underwater passages. A connection between the Dos Ojos and the neighbouring, larger Sac Actun system, discovered only in January 2018, makes this the longest underwater cave system known, with a total length of over 300 kilometres.
Below: Michel Roggo learned his craft among the rivers, lakes and glaciers of the Swiss Alps. In the spring of 2013, a prevailing southerly wind brought sand from the Sahara to these high-lying waters. “All the mountains and the glacier were yellow and orange from it,” says Roggo. In September that year, those hues were still visible in meltwater sediments from the Gorner glacier on the Monte Rosa massif.
Below: Hidden among water hyacinth plants, a yacare caiman waits for passing prey in the Pantanal wetlands. Sprawling over a vast area from the Brazilian state of Mato Grosso do Sul into Bolivia and Paraguay, the Pantanal is one of the most biodiverse ecosystems on Earth. Its caiman population is estimated to number 10 million – the largest crocodilian community on Earth.
Below: Thanks to a natural filtration system, Rotomairewhenua, or Blue Lake, in New Zealand’s Southern Alps has the planet’s clearest waters. They are sacred to the Ngati Apa ki te Ra To, who use them to cleanse the bones of the dead. “You cannot fish or swim in this water, or drink or touch it,” says Roggo. He had to obtain special permission to photograph it using a remote-controlled pole camera.
Below: Beauty doesn’t need clarity, as shown by the reddish, acidic water of Etang de la Gruère in the Jura mountain range of western Switzerland. Laced with tannins from surrounding pine trees, such waters rich in dissolved organic matter are known as blackwaters. The Rio Negro, a tributary of the Amazon, is perhaps the most famous example, and they are common in the southern US, too.
Below: The forests of the Gunung Mulu National Park in Malaysian Borneo house a rich diversity of animal and plant life. But if Roggo was expecting a similar picture when he dipped his head beneath the surface of the Sungai Melinau Paku river, he was disappointed. “I saw not a single aquatic plant in all the creeks, ponds and rivers,” he says – just washed-off debris from the surrounding trees.
Bottom: The “underwater garden” of Ewens Ponds in South Australia is formed of three flooded limestone sinkholes around 10 metres deep, connected by shallower watercourses. The water’s extraordinary clarity lets the plants and the algal blooms seen here thrive up to 6 metres down. As in many places, the fresh water here is under threat as agricultural run-off changes its natural chemistry.
Photographer
Michel Roggo,
This article appeared in print under the headline “Fresh perspectives”
