The deep sea scientist who didn't see the ocean until he was 27

A journey from the desert to the bottom of the sea.

By Yakup Niyazi, Prema Arasu & The Conversation Digital Storytelling Team

It’s April 5 2025 and I'm sitting in a deep submersible vehicle, the Bakunawa.

We're about 1,360 kilometres from the nearest port and about to drop into the ocean.

I'm a marine geoscientist and it's my first expedition as a co-chief scientist.

Launch of the submersible Bakunawa from the RV Dagon

Launch of the submersible Bakunawa from the RV Dagon

Only a few hundred people have ever been to the bottom of the open ocean, and my pilot Reuben Kent and I are the first to visit this particular area.

The area we're diving to is unique. It's where new seafloor is being created as tectonic plates pull apart. My team has explored places where the ocean floor dives beneath the land, but never anywhere like this.

We don't fully know what animals and geological formations will be down there, so that's why we have to go see for ourselves.

We start making our way down. The inside is cramped and dark and the Bakunawa only has three viewports.

But light doesn't matter for the five kilometre journey we're taking. Only the first 20 minutes will be within the reach of sunlight.

I'm crammed in with co-pilot Reuben Kent

I'm crammed in with co-pilot Reuben Kent

I was told not to eat too much before the trip down; there’s no toilet inside the submersible, there’s not even enough room to stand up.

The lollies I ate for energy will have to sustain me for the seven hours of diving ahead.

You might assume marine scientists like me have a lifelong connection to the ocean.

But my story is a little different. I didn't even see the ocean until I was 27 years old.

This 2015 trip is one of the first times I saw the sea

This 2015 trip is one of the first times I saw the sea

I’m a Uyghur who grew up in the city of Aksu, at the edge of the Taklamakan Desert, in Central Asia. It’s one of the farthest places in the world from the sea.

There aren't many stories about the ocean in Uyghur, but I've always been surrounded by water.

The Tarim River, regarded as the mother river of the Uyghurs, surrounded by desert poplars. Credit Hu Huhu/Xinhua via Getty Images

The melted ice and snow of the Tengri Tagh mountains flows to our towns and villages, giving Aksu (white water) its name.

It also shaped the rocks I collected at the river when I was young. I used to wonder how they got their shapes, colours and textures.

Me (left) and my friend in middle school in 2002.

Me (left) and my friend in middle school in 2002.

The mountains of Aksu Prefecture. Credit: ZCOOL HelloRF/Shutterstock

We're making our way down the water column now and there's nothing but marine snow.

We’re heading to the bottom of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, to a place called the Strakhov Fracture Zone.

The region of the Atlantic we're diving in, between the coasts of Brazil and West Africa

About three quarters of the ocean is below 3,000 metres, yet these depths have hardly been explored.

The last time this area was visited was in the late 1980s by the Russian research vessel Akademik Nikolay Strakhov.

The seafloor plays a key role in influencing where deep-sea species live and how ecosystems function. These hidden landscapes form the foundation of deep-sea environments we are only just beginning to understand.

That’s why my team at the Minderoo-UWA Deep-Sea Research Centre of the University of Western Australia undertook an expedition to explore this region.

This dive is only one part of our two-week exploration of the fracture zone’s geodiversity, biodiversity and oceanography. Diving to the bottom of the sea allows scientists to directly observe the ecosystems and geology in their natural state, leading to discoveries that remote tools alone cannot provide.

The ocean is merciless. I wasn’t prepared to feel its raw power the first time I swam in it.

I told my friends I could swim, but the weight of the Mediterranean Sea’s waves tossed me around until I realised the ocean was nothing like the inland waters I was used to.

The ocean doesn't care who you are, where you are from, or if you can swim or not.

Exploring the geological wonders of the Dead Sea in 2016

Exploring the geological wonders of the Dead Sea in 2016

At the time I was doing a marine science degree in Haifa, Israel.

Starting that degree was quite a jump for me.

I had previously been working in the oil and gas industry. But my curiosity wasn't being satisfied. I left the oil fields inland for the sea, hoping to discover more about the ocean, and myself.

On a field trip when I was an undergrad student

On a field trip when I was an undergrad student

It's been two hours since we started our descent and we’re more than 4,000 metres from the surface. It's pitch black outside. The only sound is the beeping of Bakunawa's life support systems.

Reuben and I nearing the seafloor

We flick the sub's lights on as we close the final metres to the ocean floor.

To our surprise, hundreds of sea cucumbers and sponges are living down here. Some brightly coloured, some blending into the sand.

Such an extreme place for us is normal life for them.

Some of these species have rarely been observed by scientists, and the geological formations we found were surprising.

The soft sediment plains before us prove frequent earthquakes and landslides happen in this region.

Mysterious sinkholes at the bottom of the sea

Mysterious sinkholes at the bottom of the sea

We see dozens of sinkholes. They could be caused by underground liquid being pushed out of the ocean floor under immense pressure, but we don’t know for sure.

Four hours pass quickly diving on the sea bed, observing this unique landscape and the life it supports.

When I finally climb out of the submersible Bakunawa seven hours later, I'm surrounded by colleagues taking photos and looking at me.

I feel I’ve made history – for myself and for the Uyghur people. For us, the ocean once existed only in our imagination, but now, that’s no longer the case.

I've conquered a lot. It wasn't just growing up far from an ocean, but the difficulties in travelling and studying abroad.

I achieved this through determination and the unwavering support of my supervisors and colleagues.

I would say this is the highest point of my career (ironic, I know, given I was five kilometres below sea level) but I know that this is just the beginning.