
An Enormous Void In The Ocean Holds A Frightening Discovery
5,700 Years of Storms in 30 Metres of Mud

Our planet keeps its own record of what’s happening to its climate, sometimes in surprising places. One of those is the Great Blue Hole, a giant underwater sinkhole off Belize. By digging into its mud and sand, scientists have uncovered a story of storms that stretches back thousands of years and a warning about what’s coming next.
The Great Blue Hole is hard to miss, even from space. It’s a nearly perfect circle, about 300 metres (984 feet) across, and plunges some 125 metres (410 feet) straight down. It sits roughly 60 miles off Belize City, tucked into the Belize Barrier Reef, one of the few living reefs you can see from orbit, and a UNESCO World Heritage Site.
But this isn’t just a pretty blue circle. At the end of the last Ice Age, melting glaciers sent seawater spilling into a network of limestone caves. Over time, those caverns collapsed, leaving behind this enormous pit. If you peer inside, you’ll even find giant stalactites, rock formations that look like icicles, hanging out of the walls. They formed when the caves were dry, more than 150,000 years ago, and now sit 125 metres below sea level as a reminder of how much the world has changed.
Today, divers flock here for the thrill of dropping into an underwater world that feels frozen in time. You’ll swim past massive stalactites and through shafts of light, with sharks - Caribbean reef, nurse, hammerhead, bull, and blacktip - gliding by like ghosts. It’s a bucket-list dive for anyone who loves the ocean.
Exploring Belize’s Great Blue Hole
In 2022, a team from Goethe University in Frankfurt decided to look past the scenery and focus on the hole’s mud. They hauled a drilling platform out to the site and pulled up a 30‑metre (98‑foot) core of sediment from the bottom.
That core is basically a stack of pages in Earth’s diary: each layer is made of coarse grains washed in by storms, carrying pieces of reef rock and sand. By examining hundreds of these layers, the researchers, joined by colleagues from Cologne, Göttingen, Hamburg, and Bern, could count how many storms passed over the site, year by year, for the last 5,700 years.
They found an average of between four and 16 tropical storms every century. But that average hides a clear trend: storm frequency and strength have been climbing steadily and have spiked sharply in the past two decades.
“Predictions of tropical cyclone frequencies are hampered by insufficient knowledge of their natural variability in the past,” the team wrote. “A 30‑metre sediment core from the Great Blue Hole, a marine sinkhole offshore Belize, provides the longest available, continuous, and annually resolved tropical cyclone frequency record.”

In other words, we’ve finally got a long, detailed record showing how often and how fiercely storms have raged through this part of the Caribbean. And it’s not good news.
While natural climate cycles explain much of the rise over millennia, the sharp uptick in recent years lines up with the Industrial Age’s warming; the numbers tell the rest of the story. Over 5,700 years, the core showed 574 distinct storm events.
Extrapolating the current trend, the researchers warn that by the end of the century, up to 45 tropical storms or hurricanes could hit this region every 100 years, almost three times the long‑term average.
The Great Blue Hole lies near the center of the Lighthouse Reef atoll
That projection isn’t just a number on a chart. More storms mean more damage to coastal communities, more stress on coral reefs that are already bleached by warm water, and bigger challenges for countries like Belize that rely on tourism and fishing.
It’s one thing to read about climate change in a report; it’s another to see it spelled out in layers of mud, right where people dive every day.

What happens next depends on our choices now. The Great Blue Hole’s record makes it clear: our climate is shifting faster than at any point in the last several thousand years.
If cutting emissions and building resilience feels like an overwhelming task, remember that even tiny changes in the atmosphere can show up in a place as remote as an underwater sinkhole. Scientists will keep drilling, coring, and counting, but the real test is whether we listen.
Because the next entry in Earth’s diary could be the one that changes everything.
Damjan
