Plumbing the Depths With Your Mouse

Want to feel miniscule? Go look at the new Google Earth. In addition to taking pictures of every house on your block, the Googlers have been busy mapping the oceans. 

Go ahead. Download Google Earth, put your curser on the virtual globe and give it a good spin. The earth is, indeed, a Big Blue Marble. We are but tiny specks huddled on land masses that stick out of vast oceans throbbing with marine life. Giant kelp forests dwarf our massive redwoods and fantastic creatures that not even Jules Verne could imagine roam the depths. 

Now zoom in on the Atlantic Ocean until all you see is waves, and drag your mouse along the endless stretch of blue. It’s disorienting, no? This must be how Columbus felt after months at sea with no sign of land.

The ocean and I don’t have the best relationship. On one trip to the Delaware Shore, the Atlantic picked me up and slammed me down on a sandbar, ripping my Achilles tendon. I’m still ticked about it.

A snorkeling excursion off the coast of Cozumel was tainted by swimming through a patch of warm water left behind by my snorkeling companion, whose mother had obviously failed to instill in him the taboo against peeing in the pool.

My visits to our stunning Pacific Ocean are tempered with a healthy respect for her power. Keeper is always ready to don a wet suit and plunge in with his boogie board, but I never go in over my knees. “Never turn your back on the ocean,” someone once said, and that has become my mantra. I’m content to stand on the shore, let the retreating waves suck the sand from under my feet, and marvel at the fact that the nearest landmass is Japan.

My mother, who is spending the winter on the Gulf Coast of Florida, says that going to the beach unburdens her. “I realize that I’m not in charge of everything,” she says. Truth be told, she’s barely in control of my father, let alone the sea and sky.

I predict that the virtual exploration of the ocean that Google provides will result in an increase in ecotourism, a new perspective on how we’re messing up our little pieces of land, and a new generation of marine biology majors. While Google Ocean gives us unprecedented access to information about undersea life, oceanography, and the effect of global warming on our oceans, I can’t help but wonder if the sea creatures feel invaded. 

Remember how you felt when you first looked at the Google Street View of your house? It was creepy, right? You may even be in the picture, innocently washing your car in the driveway. [Let’s pause for a learning moment. You should only wash your car at car washes, which have proper drains. Your driveway suds run down the street, into the storm drain and directly into the Bay. Eventually, they end up in a satellite picture of the ocean, so don’t do it. Big Brother is watching.]

If it felt weird seeing a picture of your house posted on the Internet, it was ever so much fun to see your friends’ and families’ houses, wasn’t it?

Maybe it’s the same for the sea creatures. Somewhere off the coast of Japan, a giant squid is laughing his head off at an octopus caught on camera inking himself. Or he would be, if he had Internet access. And opposable thumbs.