We tend to think of history as something buried beneath our feet—in ancient caves, deserts, and ruins tucked into mountaintops. However, some researchers believe we might be looking in the wrong place entirely. What if huge chapters of human history aren’t buried on land at all, but underwater? Thanks to the continental shelf theory, more archaeologists are turning their attention to coastlines—and the sea beyond them—in search of humanity’s true beginnings.
Our ancestors liked coastlines just as much as we do.
There’s a reason people have always gravitated toward coastal areas. Access to water, food, and more moderate climates made these places ideal for early humans to settle. The thing is, those ancient coastlines aren’t where they used to be. During the last Ice Age, sea levels were dramatically lower. Whole swathes of land that are now submerged were once thriving ecosystems—and likely home to early human communities.
Sea levels have risen more than 100 metres since the Ice Age.
We’re not talking about small shifts here. As ice sheets melted after the last glacial period, global sea levels rose by around 120 metres. That means entire landscapes vanished beneath the waves. Many of the places prehistoric people lived—particularly flat, low-lying areas—are now completely underwater. And we’ve only just begun to explore them.
The continental shelf hides a lot more than coral reefs.
The continental shelf is the shallow, sloping stretch of seabed that surrounds each continent. It might not look dramatic on a map, but it covers vast areas of former dry land. Because this land was exposed for tens of thousands of years, it’s likely that people walked across it, hunted on it, built on it, and then had to abandon it as the sea crept in.
Most of our early settlements have probably eroded or vanished.
Unlike stone cities or cave dwellings, early human shelters were often made from wood, bone, and earth—materials that don’t last long underwater. Combine that with erosion and marine life, and it’s no wonder these sites are hard to find. However, that doesn’t mean they never existed. It just means we haven’t been looking in the right place, or with the right tools.
Underwater archaeology is still in its early days.
Exploring the seafloor is no small task. It’s expensive, slow, and requires specialist equipment like sonar mapping and submersibles. However, even with limited resources, researchers are already finding clues. Off the coasts of places like the UK, India, and Japan, scientists have discovered submerged structures, tools, and even ancient footprints—hinting at vibrant communities that were wiped out by rising seas.
The North Sea might have once been a human homeland.
Ever heard of Doggerland? It’s the name archaeologists gave to the now-submerged landmass that once connected Britain to mainland Europe. Around 8,000 years ago, it was home to hunters, gatherers, and possibly even small settlements. Today, Doggerland lies beneath the North Sea, but fishermen still occasionally dredge up ancient bones, tools, and artefacts—evidence of a lost world beneath the waves.
Ancient flood myths might not be myths at all.
From Noah’s Ark to Atlantis, many cultures have stories about floods that swallowed entire lands. While they might sound fantastical, these stories could actually be distorted memories of real, devastating sea level rises. If your ancestors watched their home disappear under the sea, you’d probably pass that story down too, especially if it happened quickly or with terrifying force.
Coastal areas are still revealing unexpected secrets.
In some parts of the world, receding tides and erosion are revealing once-hidden relics. At low tide in certain parts of Wales and Ireland, ancient tree stumps and footprints emerge from beneath the sand. These ‘submerged forests’ are like time capsules—silent proof that what we now see as ocean used to be dry, thriving land.
The theory changes how we think about migration.
Traditionally, archaeologists have mapped human migration based on land-based discoveries. However, if we start factoring in underwater routes, along ancient shorelines, we might realise early humans moved more fluidly than we thought. Rather than being landlocked wanderers, they may have followed coastlines, adapting to changing water levels over generations.
It explains some of the gaps in our understanding.
Why are some early human populations so poorly documented? Why are there missing links between groups who lived relatively close together? Part of the answer could be that the physical evidence is sitting at the bottom of the ocean. If we’re missing entire chapters of prehistory, it might simply be because they’ve been drowned—literally.
Sea level rise isn’t just a modern problem.
Today, we talk about climate change and rising seas as something new. However, for early humans, changing coastlines were a massive challenge. Entire landscapes would disappear in a single lifetime. Understanding how prehistoric people adapted to those changes might help us face our own environmental uncertainties today—with a bit more perspective.
Our idea of where “civilisation” began might be way off.
If the oldest settlements are underwater, then we may need to rethink the origins of farming, cities, and culture. What we call the cradle of civilisation might just be the bit that wasn’t submerged. There could be older, more advanced evidence of human life lying offshore, waiting to be found. When it is, it could flip everything we thought we knew.
It’s a reminder of how much we still don’t know.
For all our tech and knowledge, we’re still just beginning to understand our own past. The ocean doesn’t give up its secrets easily, but they’re down there. Possibly thousands of years’ worth. Whether it’s Doggerland, submerged cities in the Mediterranean, or drowned forests beneath our beaches, the truth is simple: if we really want to understand where we came from, we might need to start looking underwater.