Aerial View of Caesarea| Transliterated Name | Language | Name |
|---|---|---|
| Caesarea | ||
| Caesarea Maritima | ||
| Keysariya | Hebrew | קֵיסָרְיָה |
| Qesarya | Hebrew | קֵיסָרְיָה |
| Qisri | Rabbinic Sources | |
| Qisrin | Rabbinic Sources | |
| Qisarya | Arabic | قيسارية |
| Qaysariyah | Early Islamic Arabic | قايساريياه |
| Caesarea near Sebastos | Greek and Latin sources | |
| Caesarea of Straton | Greek and Latin sources | |
| Caesarea of Palestine | Greek and Latin sources | |
| Caesarea | Ancient Greek | Καισάρεια |
| Straton's Tower | ||
| Strato's Tower | ||
| Stratonos pyrgos | Ancient Greek | |
| Straton's Caesarea |
King Herod built the town of Caesarea between 22 and 10/9 BCE, naming it for his patron - Roman Emperor Caesar Augustus. The neighboring port was named Sebastos - Greek for Augustus (Stern et al, 1993). Straton's Tower, a Phoenician Port city, existed earlier on the site. When the Romans annexed Judea in 6 CE, Caesarea became the headquarters for the provincial governor and his administration (Stern et al, 1993). During the first Jewish War, Roman General Vespasian wintered at Caesarea and used it as his support base (Stern et al, 1993). After he became Emperor, he refounded the city as a Roman colony. Caesarea is mentioned in the 10th chapter of the New Testament book of Acts as the location where, shortly after the crucifixion, Peter converted Roman centurion Cornelius - the first gentile convert to the faith. In Early Byzantine times, Caesarea was known for its library and as the "home-town" of the Christian Church historian and Bishop Eusebius. After the Muslim conquest of the 7th century, the city began to decline but revived again in the 10th century (Stern et al, 1993). Crusaders ruled the city for most of the years between 1101 and 1265 CE (Stern et al, 1993). After the Crusaders were ousted, the town was eventually leveled in 1291 CE and remained mostly desolate after that (Stern et al, 1993).
Herod the Great named the port city he built on the Mediterranean coast Caesarea, to honor his patron, the emperor Caesar Augustus. He called the neighboring port Sebastos, Greek for" Augustus." The site is located on the Sharon coast, about midway between Haifa and Tel Aviv (map reference 1399.2115). The site's ancient name has survived into modern times in the Arabic Qaisariya. Rabbinic sources reproduced Caesarea as Qisri or Qisrin. Because it was only one of many Caesareas, Greek and Latin sources often specify Caesarea as near (the harbor) Sebastos, Caesarea of Straton, or (more commonly) Caesarea of Palestine. The emperor Vespasian granted Caesarea the rank of Roman colony, making it Colonia Prima Flavia Augusta Caesariensis, and Severus Alexander gave it the title Metropolis of the province Syria Palaestina. The name Caesarea Maritima, widely used today, was apparently unknown in antiquity. Straton's Tower (Στρατωνος Πνργος), a Phoenician port town, existed earlier on the site. The name is Greek for Migdal Shorshon, its equivalent in rabbinic texts. It is a common type of toponym meaning a fortified town, not a bastion or lookout tower, as some have thought. Whatever the meaning of Shorshon, in local legend Straton was a Greek hero, and it was he, not Herod, who founded Caesarea, which has thus also been called Straton's Caesarea.
Modern scholars suggest that the historical Straton was either a general in the Ptolemaic army in the beginning of the third century BCE or one of two Phoenicians named 'Abdashtart who ruled Sidon in the fourth century BCE. Recent ceramic finds do support limited commercial activity at the site this early, but the earliest reference to Straton's Tower is in a papyrus from the Zenon archive (P Cairo 59004) (259 BCE), which also attests an active harbor. The town flourished in the third century BCE (ceramic evidence) and especially in the later second century BCE, when the local tyrant, Zoilos, held it against the expanding Jewish kingdom (Josephus, Antiq. XIII, 324), perhaps fortifying it with the "city wall of Straton's Tower" mentioned in a rabbinic source (Tosefta Shevi'it IV, 11). The rulers of Straton's Tower apparently developed at least two protected harbors, cut into the sandstone bedrock of the coast in characteristic Hellenistic fashion - λιμην κλειστος (close haven).
Caesarea is a large site, comprising about 235 a. within its semicircular perimeter wall. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries European travelers, such as R. Pococke and V. Guerin, published more-or-less accurate descriptions of the site. In 1873, C. R. Conder and H. H. Kitchener mapped and described it as part of the Survey of Western Palestine, noting, for example, the aqueducts, the semicircular (outer) perimeter wall, the medieval fortifications, and the theater. Over the next ninety years there were only chance finds. In 1945, J. Ory,forthe Mandatory Department of Antiquities, and M. Avi-Yonah, in 1956 and 1962, for the Israel Department of Antiquities and Museums, explored the meager remains of a synagogue revealed during winter storms along the northern seashore. In 1951, S. Yeivin excavated a marble-paved esplanade east of the Crusader city for the department, where a tractor from Kibbutz Sedot Yam had struck a colossal porphyry statue. In 1955, a large mosaic pavement on a ridge to the northeast of ancient Caesarea was also exposed accidentally.
Large-scale archaeological excavations were carried out at Caesarea from 1992 to 1998 by the Israel Antiquities Authority (IAA); they were directed by Y. Porath. The project included the excavation of a 100–150-m-wide strip along the coast between the theater complex to the south and the excavations of the Combined Caesarea Expeditions (CCE) to the north; the western part of the temple platform and the area between this platform and the eastern quay of the port of Sebastos; both sides of the southern Crusader wall (continuing the salvage excavations carried out in 1989); the bottom of the Crusader moat (cleared in the 1960s by A. Negev), from the southern gateway to the northern gateway; and the area southwest of the theater. In addition, salvage excavations were conducted within the area demarcated by the Byzantine wall; in structures outside the wall; on the necropolis; in agricultural areas to the east, north, and south of the city; and along the aqueducts that carried water to Caesarea from outside the city.
During the 1990s the face of ancient Caesarea underwent dramatic change as excavations on an unprecedented scale exposed much more of the site and resolved earlier puzzles and misconceptions. The Combined Caesarea Expeditions (CCE) organized in 1989 by A. Raban, of the Recanati Institute for Maritime Studies at the University of Haifa, and K. G. Holum, of the University of Maryland, continued work through much of the decade and, on a more limited scale, into the new millennium. In 1993, J. Patrich joined the CCE directorate on behalf of the University of Haifa. Inside the Old City, K. Holum directed excavations on the temple platform (area TP) and in a warehouse quarter north of the inner harbor (area LL). A. Raban led excavations at the presently land-locked inner harbor and its eastern quay (area I), and at two sites along the southern edge of the temple platform (areas Z and TPS). J. Patrich excavated south of the Crusader city in areas CC, NN, and KK. In area KK, he uncovered six warehouse units, while area CC, formerly field C of the Joint Expedition to Caesarea Maritima (JECM), contained a government complex that accommodated the Roman provincial procurator and later the governor of Byzantine Palestine. The CCE team also devoted effort to area CV, the western side of the area CC vaults, and its maritime unit conducted underwater excavations in the harbor.
The CAHEP (Caesarea Ancient Harbour Excavation Project) consortium, led by the Recanati Institute for Maritime Studies at the University of Haifa, in collaboration with the University of Colorado (led by R. L. Hohlfelder), the University of Maryland (led by R. L. Vann), and the University of Victoria, British Columbia (led by J. P. Oleson), was succeeded by the maritime unit of the CCE, a collaborative project of the University of Haifa (led by A. Raban) and McMaster University (led by E. G. Reinhardt). The ongoing project conducts an annual field season with student volunteers from both institutions as well as others from around the world. The focus of the underwater research has shifted lately toward geoarchaeology, in an attempt to comprehend the history of maritime activity at Caesarea and the demise of Sebastos in the context of environmental changes and topographical alternations on the waterfront.
Figure 5
Figure 5
Aerial Photo of the city of Caesarea taken in 1918 by the German army (the North East on the left)
Figure 3.9
Figure 5.71
Aerial Photo of the city of Caesarea taken in 1918 by the German army (the North East on the left)
Figure 3.9
Figure 5.71
Figure 1
Aqueducts of Caesarea
Caesarea: map of the site, showing excavation areas.
Herodian Caesarea, up to 70 CE.
Byzantine Caesarea, sixth century CE
Figure 1
Fig. 1
Figure 1.9
Figure 3.5
Figure 2.24
Figure 3.9
Figure 1
Aqueducts of Caesarea
Caesarea: map of the site, showing excavation areas.
Herodian Caesarea, up to 70 CE.
Byzantine Caesarea, sixth century CE
Figure 1
Fig. 1
Figure 1.9
Figure 3.5
Figure 2.24
Figure 3.9
Figure 1
Figure 1
Figure 4
Figure 2.3
Figure 2.22
Figure 2.23
Figure 2.25
Figure 5.48
Figure 5.69
Figure 1
Figure 1
Figure 4
Figure 2.3
Figure 2.22
Figure 2.23
Figure 2.25
Figure 5.48
Figure 5.69
Figure 1.10
Area TP: plan showing foundations of the octagonal church.
Figure 1.10
Area TP: plan showing foundations of the octagonal church.
Figure 2
Figure 2
Figure 130
Figure 129
Figure 130
Figure 129
Figure 1D
Figure 1E
Figure 3
Figure 8
Figure 3
Figure 2B
Figure 2C
Figure 5
Figure 8
Figure 1D
Figure 1E
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Figure 8
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Figure 2
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Figure 132
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Figure 132
Figure 133
Stratigraphy/Chronology - Inner Harbor Areas I/1 - Z/2
| Stratum | Period |
|---|---|
| I | Modern |
| II | Late Ottoman (Bosnian) |
| IIIa | Crusader (Louis IX) |
| IIIb | Crusader (pre-Louis IX) |
| IV | Fatimid |
| V | Abbasid |
| VI | Umayyad |
| VII | Late Byzantine/Early Umayyad |
| VIII | Late Byzantine |
| IX | Early Byzantine |
| X | Late Roman |
| XI | Roman |
| XII | Early Roman |
| XIII | Herodian |
Stratigraphy of Areas CC, KK, and NN
Phases of the Starting Gates of the Hippodrome
Figure 1| Phase | Period | Date | Comments |
|---|---|---|---|
| I | Modern | ||
| II | Crusader | 1200-1300 CE | |
| III.1 | Late Arab | 900*-1200 CE | |
| III.2 | Middle Arab Abbasid |
750-900* CE | |
| III.3 | Early Arab Umayyad |
640-750 CE | |
| IV | Byzantine/Arab | 640 CE | In A.D. 640 Caesarea fell to Arab invaders. This time the destruction was complete and irretrievable. Battered columns and the empty shells of buildings stood nakedly above heaps of tangled debris. |
| V | Final Byzantine | 614-640 CE | In A.D. 614 Persian armies captured Caesarea, but withdrew by A.D. 629. This invasion caused widespread destruction and brought the Main Byzantine Period to a close, but recovery was rapid and the city was restored |
| VI.1 | Main Byzantine | 450/550*-614 CE | |
| VI.2 | Main Byzantine | 330 - 450/550* CE | |
| VII.1 | Roman | 200*-330 CE | It seems probable that during the Late Roman Period a major catastrophe befell the city, causing a partial collapse of the vaulted warehouses along the waterfront, and the destruction of major buildings within the city. Such a city-wide disaster alone would account for the rebuilding of the warehouse vaulting and the buildings above it, as well as the virtual absence of intact Roman structures in the city proper. |
| VII.2 | Roman | 100*-200* CE | |
| VII.3 | Roman | 10 BCE - 100* CE |
Figure 1
Figure 4
The construction of harbours along high energy nearshore environments, which commonly include the emplacement of hard structures both as central features (e.g., piers, jetties) as well as protective measures (e.g., wave breakers, coastal armouring), can alter coastlines in a multitude of ways. These include reconfiguring the coast’s morphology, introducing or redistributing exogenous and endogenous materials, and changing localized environmental substrate and structural conditions; and, as a result, impact the associated ecological communities. With growing coastal populations and associated coastal development, concerns over the long-term consequences of such projects are of global interest. Caesarea Maritima, a large-scale, artificially constructed ancient harbour built between 21 and 10 BCE, provides a rare opportunity to address these impacts and investigate its fingerprint on the landscape over 2000 years. To approach this, representative sediment samples were isolated and analyzed from two sediment cores (C1, C2), an excavated trench (W), and a sample of ancient harbour construction material (aeolianite sandstone and hydraulic concrete; COF). Geochemical (Itrax μXRF, magnetic susceptibility) and foraminifera analyses were conducted and results from both methods were statistically grouped into significantly similar clusters. Results demonstrated the increased presence of aeolianite-associated elemental contributions only after the construction of Caesarea as well as in particularly high concentrations following previously proposed tsunami events, during which shallower and deeper materials would have been transported and redeposited. The foraminifera data shows the appearance and eventual abundance dominance of Pararotalia calcariformata as an indicator of coastal hardening. Results suggest that they are an especially well-suited species to demonstrate changing environmental conditions existing today. In previous studies, this species was mistakenly presented as a recent Lessepsian arrival from the Red Sea, when in fact it has had a long history as an epiphyte living on hardgrounds in the Mediterranean and co-existencing with humans and their harbour-building habits. Specimens of P. calcariformata, therefore, are useful indicators for the timing of harbour construction at Caesarea and may be used as rapid and cost-effective biostratigraphic indicators on sandy nearshore coastline in future geoarchaeological studies. This has implications for future studies along the Israeli coast, including both paleoenvironmental and modern ecological assessments.
Ancient harbour sediments and stratigraphy are often studied because they contain evidence of past environmental change including climate, sea-level, and anthropogenic activity (Blackman, 1982a, 1982b; Kamoun et al., 2019, 2020, 2021; Marriner and Morhange, 2007; Reinhardt et al., 1994; Riddick et al., 2021; Riddick et al., 2022a, 2022b; Salomon et al., 2016). The analysis and interpretation of environmental proxies (e.g., microfossils, geochemistry, lithology, etc.) can be more straightforward in cases of shoreline progradation, where relative sea-level changes, siltation, and/or high input of river sediments have resulted in landlocked marine structures (i.e., within lagoons or estuaries). Sediments in these cases often record transitions from marine to more brackish/freshwater conditions associated with construction of harbour structures and/or natural barriers that are identifiable through changes in microfossil assemblages, sediment grain size and geochemistry, and other environmental indicators (Amato et al., 2020; Finkler et al., 2018; Kamoun et al., 2022; Pint et al., 2015; Stock et al., 2013, 2016).
The Israeli Mediterranean coastline (Fig. 1) is mostly characterized by unconsolidated sands and Pleistocene aeolian sandstone ridges (‘kurkar’). These thick calcareous-cemented sand beds accumulated cyclically between thin layers of iron-rich paleosols (‘hamra’) and currently run parallel to the coast, both on and offshore (Almagor et al., 2000; Ronen, 2018). The southern two thirds of the coastline are characterized by sandy beaches (Emery and Neev, 1960). The tidal range is relatively small along the coast (0.4 during spring tides, 0.15 m during neap tides; Golik and Rosen, 1999). Offshore sediments are transported through two different types of nearshore currents: an inner edge of the general offshore current (which moves northwards, counterclockwise along the eastern end of the Mediterranean; Fig. 1), and a wave-induced longshore current (Emery and Neev, 1960; Goldsmith and Golik, 1980; Klein et al., 2007; Schattner et al., 2015). The largest waves in this region generally approach the coast from a WNW direction, which results in a longshore current to the northeast along the curved southern shoreline (Fig. 1). Where these waves approach parallel or at an angle opposite to that of the southern coast (e.g., some areas towards the northern coastline of Israel), a small, southward longshore current is produced (Emery and Neev, 1960; Goldsmith and Golik, 1980; Zviely et al., 2007). Located towards the northern extent of the Nile Littoral Cell, offshore sediments near Caesarea are predominantly transported from the south through this wave-induced longshore current (Emery and Neev, 1960; Goldsmith and Golik, 1980; Golik, 1993, 1997; Katz and Crouvi, 2018; Schattner et al., 2015; Zviely et al., 2007). Prior to the construction of the Aswan Dam in the 1960s, approximately 100,000 m3/yr of clastic sediments reach the coasts of Caesarea, largely sourced from Central Africa and the Ethiopian Highlands (Nir, 1984). These sediments are dominated by silica (quartz), alumina, and trivalent iron oxides (e.g., aluminosilicates) with minor amounts of heavy minerals (Goldsmith et al., 2001; Inman and Jenkins, 1984; Nir, 1984). The majority of heavy minerals include hornblende, augite, and epidotes, as well as minor amounts of resistant (e.g., zircon, tourmaline, rutile) and metamorphic minerals (e.g., sillimanite, staurolite, kyanite; Stanley, 1989). Local sources (i.e., eroded kurkar, onshore sediments, marine productivity) contribute some calcareous sediment to the nearshore environment (Goldsmith et al., 2001; Inman and Jenkins, 1984; Nir, 1984; see Supplementary Data 1 for more details on dominant minerals, compositions, and sources). Sand-sized sediment extends 3–5 km from the shore to water depths of ~25 m, while increasing amounts of silt and clay (mainly smectite, with minor kaolinite and illite) are found further offshore in slightly deeper water (30–50 m depths; Almagor et al., 2000; Emery and Neev, 1960; Nir, 1984; Sandler and Herut, 2000). The siliclastic sands, which characterize most of the nearshore, transition into more carbonate-rich sediments with higher instances of rocky substrates north of Haifa Bay (Almagor et al., 2000; Avnaim-Katav et al., 2015; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2014; Nir, 1984).
The historical site of Caesarea Maritima is located ~40 km south of Haifa, on the Israeli Mediterranean coast (34◦53.5′E 32◦30.5′N). Over six decades of research have provided details on the construction and deterioration of its harbour, also referred to as Sebastos, the largest artificial open-sea Mediterranean harbour of its time (Brandon, 2008; Hohlfelder et al., 2007). The harbour was constructed between 21 and 10 BCE using local kurkar and imported volcanic material (Vola et al., 2011; Votruba, 2007). Local kurkar is characterized by well-sorted quartz with calcite and minor amounts of feldspar, biotite, heavy minerals (e.g., hornblende, augite, zircon, rutile, tourmaline, magnetite, garnet, etc.), and allochems (Wasserman, 2021). Volcanic material has been used in concrete by the Romans since the 2nd century BCE (Oleson, 1988), often sourced from the Bay of Naples Neopolitan Yellow Tuff (NYT) deposits. Pozzolanic tuff-ash from this region was used in hydraulic concrete to form the breakwaters and foundations for harbour moles at Sebastos (Vola et al., 2011; Votruba, 2007). The mixture of lime, pozzolana, and aggregate provided a strong concrete that could set underwater. At Caesarea, the dominant coarse aggregates in the hydraulic concrete are kurkar sandstone and limestone (4 mm–20 cm in size; Vola et al., 2011). The mortar contains high proportions of pozzolanic material (yellow brown tuff ash/aggregates, lava fragments) with dominant minerals identified as sanidine, clinopyroxene, analcime, and phillipsite. The cementitious binding matrix contains similar material (calcite, tobermorite, ettringite, Calcium–Aluminum–Silic ate–Hydrate) and was likely produced by the reaction between powdered pozzolanic material, lime, and seawater. Non-pozzolanic portions include white lime clasts, kurkar sandstone aggregates, ceramics, and wood fragments, with dominant minerals identified as tobermorite, quartz, illite, anthophyllite, ettringite, halite, bassanite, and sjogrenite (Vola et al., 2011; Supplementary Data 1).
Studies of both living and dead benthic foraminifera assemblages along the Israeli coast of the Mediterranean Sea indicate that substrate type (often linked to bathymetry), food availability, and seasonality are the main factors controlling the distribution of species (Arieli et al., 2011; Avnaim-Katav et al., 2013, 2015, 2016a, 2020, 2021; HyamsKaphzan et al., 2008, 2009, 2014). Certain taxa such as Ammonia parkinsoniana and Buccella spp. are highly abundant in the shallow (3–20 m), sandy nearshore settings. Others including Ammonia inflata, Ammonia tepida, Elphidium spp., Porosononion spp., and miliolids are often observed in slightly deeper (20–40 m), silty to clayey environments further offshore on the inner Israeli shelf (Avnaim-Katav et al., 2013, 2015, 2016a, 2016b, 2017, 2020, 2021; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2008, 2009, 2014). Epiphytic taxa, which live on roots, stems, and leaves of plants (Langer, 1993; Langer et al., 1998), are highly associated with the micro- and macroalgal-covered hard substrates along the Israeli Mediterranean coast, especially the carbonate-rich rocky settings along the northern coast (Arieli et al., 2011; Avnaim-Katav et al., 2013, 2015, 2021; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2008, 2014). Coralline red algae (e.g., Galaxuara rugosa and Jania rubens) are highly abundant along the Israeli coast, along with other types of red (e.g., Centroceras sp., Ceramium sp., Bangia sp., Halopteris scoparia, Laurencia sp., Neosiphonia sp., and Polysiphonia sp.), brown (e.g., Dictyora sp., and Ectocarpus sp.), and green algae (Codium sp. and Ulva sp.; Arieli et al., 2011; Bresler and Yanko, 1995a, 1995b; Emery and Neev, 1960; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2014; Schmidt et al., 2015). Some of the most common epiphytic foraminifera taxa observed here include Amphistegina lobifera, Lachlanella spp., Heterostegina depressa, Pararotalia calcariformata, Rosalina globularis, Textularia agglutinans, and Tretomphalus bulloides, (Arieli et al., 2011; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2014). Many of these larger, symbiont bearing foraminifera are widely assumed to be more recently introduced Lessepsian species, a term used to describe Red Sea/Indian Ocean tropical species that have arrived after the construction of the Suez Canal (1869 CE). While some have been linked genetically and morphologically with their Red Sea communities, others, such as P. calcariformata (Schmidt et al., 2015; Stulpinaite et al., 2020) still have not
Specimens of P. calcariformata McCulloch, 1977 were originally identified as P. spinigera (Le Calvez, 1949) on the Israeli coast, in particular within dated, stratigraphically discreet underwater archaeological excavations and geological collections (e.g., in Reinhardt et al. (1994, 2003), Reinhardt and Raban (1999)). Schmidt et al. (2015)’s initial error occurred when they mistook the date of the first publication that reported them on this coastline for the timing of their first observation (see reference to Reinhardt et al., 1994 in introduction of Schmidt et al., 2015). In fact, the P. calcariformata in that study were firmly positioned in sediments dating to at least 1500 years ago. P. calcariformata is a well-documented epiphyte, found in highest abundances near hard substrates (up to 96% in shallow rocky habitats) of the Israeli coast (Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2014; Reinhardt et al., 2003), usually living on calcareous algae and other seaweeds (e.g., Jania rubens, Halimeda, Sargassum, Cystoseira; Arieli et al., 2011; Bresler and Yanko, 1995a, 1995b; Emery and Neev, 1960; Schmidt et al., 2015, 2018). It is observed less frequently (up to 20% relative abundances) in shallow, soft-bottomed, sandy sediments (Avnaim-Katav et al., 2017, 2020; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2008, 2009). Recent work on this species explores its microalgal symbionts (Schmidt et al., 2015, 2018) and its high heat tolerance (Schmidt et al., 2016; Titelboim et al., 2016, 2017). These studies predict that warming sea temperatures will play a role in expanding populations of P. calcariformata along the Mediterranean.
W is described in Reinhardt et al. (2006), while C1 and C2 are described in Goodman-Tchernov et al. (2009). W (~2 m of excavated sediment) contains two main shell layers: (i) a poorly sorted mix of Glycymeris spp. and pebbles from ~107–165 cm, with convex-up oriented fragments in the top portion, and (ii) a heterogeneous layer of shell fragments, ship ballast, and pottery shards from ~39–59 cm. The intervening units consist of massive, homogeneous, medium-grained sand with isolated articulated and fragmented bivalve shells and/or pebbles. The upper ~0–39 cm also contains thin layers of shells and pebbles (Fig. 2). The upper 126 cm of C1 contains two shell layers: (i) a poorly sorted mix of Glycymeris spp. and pebbles, with fragments of worn pottery from 85 to 94 cm, and (ii) poorly sorted, convex-up oriented Glycymeris spp. and pebbles from 28 to 42 cm. The intervening units are massive, tan/grey, fine-grained sand, some with isolated bivalves and/or pebbles (Fig. 2). C2 (174 cm) similarly contains two shell layers: (i) framework supported, convex-up oriented Glycymeris spp. fragments from 132 to 138 cm, and (ii) convex-up oriented Glycymeris spp. fragments from 29 to 43 cm. The intervening units are massive, tan/ Gy, fine-grained sand with some silt and isolated bivalves.
Elemental (μXRF) results are shown in Fig. 3 and Supplementary Data 2. Average counts of Zr increase upcore in each sampling area, with uppermost values ~2–3 times higher than those at the base (~700–1000 compared to 200–400; Fig. 3, Supplementary Data 2). Ca is highly variable throughout all sampling areas, with some peaks up to 1.7× higher (~300,000) in shell layers than in sandy samples. Counts of Si remain relatively high (~17,000) throughout time, with some decreases up to 1.5–2.5× lower in shell layers. Average Ti values are variable through time (~6000) with some spikes up to 2× higher at the top and bottom of C1 and surrounding the bottom shell layer of C2. Fe follows similar trends to Ti, with values ~2× higher near the top and bottom of C1 and the darker sandy sediments of C2 (161–123 cm) compared to the intervening sandy samples (counts of ~6000–7000). Counts of Sr remain quite constant throughout all sampling areas over time (~2000), with a slight increasing trend in the upper portions of C1 and C2 (values up to ~1.3×; Fig. 3, Supplementary Data 2).
Thirteen statistically significant foraminifera taxa were identified across W, C1, and C2, and the cluster analysis revealed four significant (au >95%) assemblages (A1, A2, A3, A4; Figs. 6 and 7, Supplementary Data 3). The NMDS showed that the four assemblages overlapped, especially A2, A3, and A4, suggesting that samples within these assemblages were quite similar despite grouping distinctly (Fig. 6). A1 contains only samples from the tops of W and C1. This assemblage is dominated by A. parkinsoniana (~3–21%), P. calcariformata (~43–74%), and miliolids (~13–20%; Fig. 7; Supplementary Data 3). A2 contains samples from the sand and lower shell layers of W, as well as the lower shell layer of C2. Assemblage A2 is dominated by A. parkinsoniana (~46–70%), Porosononion spp. (~0–19%), and miliolids (~12–22%). Assemblage A3 contains samples from the top and middle shell layers of C1, as well as the top sand, middle sand and shell layers of C2. Dominant specimens within this assemblage include A. parkinsoniana (~4–23%), P. calcariformata (~0–19%), Porosononion spp. (~2–11%), and miliolids (~42–69%). A4 contains samples from the middle sand layers of C1, as well as the middle sand, and bottom shell and sand layers of C2 (Fig. 7). This assemblage is dominated by A. parkinsoniana (~20–44%), P. calcariformata (~0–21%), Porosononion spp. (~1–17%), miliolids (~21–46%), and planktonic foraminifera (~0–15%; Fig. 7; Supplementary Data 3).
Prior to the construction of Sebastos, the shoreline at Caesarea was characterized by a soft-bottomed, unconsolidated sandy beach overlying regional kurkar ridges (Fig. 8; Almagor et al., 2000; Reinhardt et al., 1994; Ronen, 2018). This is reflected in both foraminifera and geochemistry results in C2 and the lower two thirds of C1 and W (Figs. 3, 7). Biofacies A2, A3, and A4 (pre-harbour), characterized by relatively higher proportions of A. parkinsoniana, miliolids, and Porsononion spp., are consistent with Reinhardt et al. (1994)’s pre-harbour foraminiferal faunal results (Fig. 7). These taxa are typically associated with shallow and mid-depth (3–20 m, and 20–40 m) Nilotic sands and silty–clayey sediments of the Israeli inner shelf (Avnaim-Katav et al., 2013, 2015, 2016b, 2017, 2019, 2020, 2021; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2008, 2009, 2014). The minor presence of P. calcariformata at the bottom of C2 and in pre-harbour sediments is associated with the coarse shell unit of the Santorini tsunami (Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009). This event transported shallow marine sediment offshore including the epiphytic P. calcariformata, likely from the kurkar hard grounds (Reinhardt et al., 2003).
The chemofacies results reflect coastal development, mainly through SC1, SC2, and SC7. SC1 is a coarser grain version of sediments that cluster with SC2. SC1 replaces SC2 in the upper portion of all three cores. The reduction in clays (indicated by Ti) and increase in silica within this shift in chemofacies suggests slight grain coarsening over time, while the increase in Ba indicates an increase in productivity. This slight shift over time may represent natural changes in sediment sources (e.g., variations in White and Blue Nile sediments, terrestrial inputs, etc.) and/or anthropogenic influence (Kalman et al., 2022). SC7, which relates to the kurkar component of sediments (Figs. 4 and 5), appears much more frequently post-harbour and with tsunami influence. Kurkar was heavily used in the construction of the harbour (Vola et al., 2011; Votruba, 2007), and tsunamis transported and deposited this material further offshore. The slight presence of SC7 in the Santorini event layer (C1, Fig. 5) reflects this process occurring pre-harbour, with natural kurkar deposits along the coast.
lations is evident in A1, at the tops of W and C1 (Fig. 7). This assemblage contains distinctly higher abundances of P. calcariformata (Fig. 9; Supplementary Data 4), a common epiphytic species usually found in association with calcareous algae in rocky areas of the Israeli inner shelf (Arieli et al., 2011; Bresler and Yanko, 1995a, 1995b; Emery and Neev, 1960; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2014; Reinhardt et al., 2003; Schmidt et al., 2015, 2018). As harbour structures progressively over time, increasing amounts of cryptic spaces would have formed, providing increasing amounts of surface area for algal or seagrass growth. Ratio values for Sr/Ca do not seem to vary significantly over time, suggesting a continuous presence of aragonitic organisms (shells, calcareous algae, etc.). In C1, values slightly increase over time following a drop during the Late Byzantine tsunami event (Fig. 3) which may be related to an increase in calcareous algal growth on harbour ruins. Increased sample resolution would help to confirm this trend. Hard substrates (i.e., submerged harbour structures) with algal growth are optimal settings for P. calcariformata, and increased populations of this species after harbour construction are recorded in all three sampling areas. After death, these specimens would have detached from the algalcovered harbour and been transported to the nearby sediments by onshore-offshore transport mechanisms discussed above (Section 5.1), especially by strong storm waves during winter months (Fig. 8; Almagor et al., 2000; Quick, 1991). Higher abundances are recorded in deposits close to the site (i.e., W and C1), though their presence is still observed 800 m from the harbour structures (C2; Fig. 7).
Based on the distribution pattern of P. calcariformata observed here, alternative applications of epiphytic foraminifera along high energy sandy shoreface settings could include long-term studies on sediment dynamics (e.g., tracking sediment transport in and around coastal structures, the extent of onshore-offshore sand movement, tracking the extent of the storm weather wave base over time, etc.). Understanding sediment dynamics is important for coast engineering projects (Leys and Mulligan, 2011). Fluorescent tracers are often used to assess onshoreoffshore sediment transport and sediment accumulation patterns around marinas; however, these methods only provide data spanning several months (Klein et al., 2007). Because the main source of P. calcariformata in high energy sandy shoreface settings is the submerged surface of harbour structures (anthropogenic hard grounds), these microfossils can provide long-term data on onshore-offshore transport trends, sediment accumulation patterns around the harbour itself, and on longshore transport patterns along the coast. This could enhance studies using fluorescent tracers as it provides more long-term information.
This study shows that anthropogenically altered coastlines, in particular hard coastal structures, leave a fingerprint on their environment not only through changed elemental composition but also biomarkers such as epiphytic foraminifera. These changes are present and recognizable in the ancient harbour context at Caesarea Maritima. There, an excavated trench area (W), two sediment cores (C1, C2), and a piece of harbour material (COF) were analyzed through elemental (μXRF, magnetic susceptibility) and/or foraminifera analyses. Heavy mineral proxies (Zr + Ti/Ca, Zr + Ti/Si, magnetic susceptibility) indicate that particulate matter offshore, originating as part of or due to the harbour structures have increased since the construction of the harbour ~2000 years ago. Benthic foraminifera assemblages A3, and A4 reflect the shallow and mid-depth (3–40 m) sandy to sandy silt substrates that characterized much of the nearshore Israeli coast prior to harbour construction. Post-construction assemblages (e.g., A1, A2) include increasing abundances of epiphytic species, especially P. calcariformata. This species was successfully used as a biostratigraphic indicator for the timing of harbour construction as it is present in significant abundances only after the harbour and city are established around 2000 years ago. Pararotalia calcariformata was recently erroneously assumed to be a recent invasive species, increasing in population along the Israeli coast following the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869. Results from this study suggest that this species is endemic to the Israeli coast, observed here in coastal sediments pre-dating the canal opening by thousands of years. The recent attention on this species as a marker of changing environments and climate, suggested due to its current proliferation along the coastline and heat tolerance, is not an error and is worthy of continued study. We add here, in agreement, that it is a harbinger of anthropogenic change and thrives on the increased coarsening and hardening of the coastline and shallow shelf, outcomes of post-Aswan Dam decreases in the delivery of fine sediments (Kalman et al., 2022), coastal armouring, and general development.
Modern observations have shown that harbors are especially vulnerable to the effects of tsunamis, both due to their position on the coastline and the tendency for tsunamigenic eddy production within enclosed harbor basins. Presumably, this was as much the case in the past as in the present. The Roman-era mega-harbor Caesarea Maritima, which is today submerged in some parts up to 5 m below sea level, is an ideal research site for understanding these impacts. Over the past three decades, archeologists, geologists and historians have searched for the cause of the rapid demise of this harbor, turning to explanations ranging from offshore faults, seismic disturbances, general failure and deterioration, to liquefaction and settling on unconsolidated sands. While tsunamis are recorded repeatedly in the Eastern Mediterranean historical record, it has only been in the past decade that physical evidence directly attributed to tsunamigenic sediments along the Israeli coastline near Caesarea has been documented. To date, deposits from at least three tsunami events that impacted the harbor have been identified in sediment cores, coastal exposures and archeological trenches, but no laterally continuous picture has been produced. In this study, using a dense offshore survey produced by a high-resolution subbottom profiler, shallowly buried sediment horizons offshore of Caesarea produce distinctive reflectors that correlate with the tsunamigenic stratigraphic sequence identified in cores and excavations. These surface structure maps allow for a laterally extensive reconstruction of these distinctive deposits. The results have led to the following conclusions and interpretations:
Coastal morphology, including adjacent landforms, artificial structures, and coastal-fringing natural features (i.e., extensive coral reefs, mangroves, e.g., Baird et al., 2005; Fernando et al., 2005; Kunkel et al., 2006; Giri et al., 2008) can all influence the impact of tsunami wave flow (Hon et al., 2007; Sugawara et al., 2012). As the inundating wave breaches the coastline, natural and man-made obstacles that obstruct or impede the wave’s force can lead to channeling and variable flow, both as the wave advances inland and retreats seawards. Such energy redistribution is also evident in affected rivers or artificial channels, in which tsunami flow will continue inland to distances far exceeding that of uninterrupted portions of the coastline (e.g., Crete 1956, Bruins et al., 2008; Okal et al., 2009; northern Japan 2011, Mori et al., 2011; Goto, 2011a; Chile 2010, Fritz et al., 2011). The tsunami return/outflow is even more influenced by the presence of structures, and therefore is typically characterized by channeling (Umitsu et al., 2007; Feldens et al., 2009), which can result in shore-perpendicular bathymetric and topographic features (Atwater et al., 2010). In Sumatra following the 2004 tsunami, evidence of such complex back-flow included filled channels, boulders moved into deeper water, movement of sand into previously silty areas, and man-made rubble immediately seaward of the shoreline (Feldens et al., 2009; Goto, 2011b). Similarly, in northern Japan following the Tohoku-Oki earthquake in 2011, canals and road features often corresponded with variations in tsunami inundation heights along the Sendai Plain.
When King Herod had the city of Caesarea built on the coastline of what is now Israel between 25 BCE and 9/10 BCE, he applied Roman city planning, organization and building techniques, including the costly installation of a state-of-the-art, artificial mega-harbor (Holum et al., 1988; Hohlfelder, 1988, 1996; Raban, 2009; Votruba, 2007; Raban, 2008; Fig. 1). The natural environment afforded little protection or anchorage, with the exception of periodic, remnant, exposed ridges of eolianite sandstone (locally referred to as ‘kurkar’) roughly paralleling the coastline immediately offshore. These bedrock structures are exposed and eroded lithified dunes 135,000–45,000 years old (Sivan and Porat, 2004). The harbor was constructed on portions of this bedrock and extended seaward onto unconsolidated Nile River–derived sands (Goldsmith and Golik, 1980; Neev et al., 1987; Stanley, 1989; Zviely et al., 2007), with the use of man-made foundations. Roman engineers succeeded in this task by building wooden frameworks (‘caissons’) on land, then towing them into position where they were submerged, filling them with hydraulic cement, and ultimately finishing them with above-water superstructures. Fields of large cobbles (less than 20 cm diameter) were emplaced beneath the caissons (Raban, 2008), presumably to give them added stability against erosion and undermining, suggesting that the engineers of the time were aware of the inherent risks for constructing directly on unconsolidated sandy sediments. These caissons were arranged in rows to produce the spinal walls of the harbor, completing the entire project in less than 15 years (Brandon, 1996). This efficient approach to harbor construction continues to be used today. For example, ‘Mulberry I’ and “Mulberry II”, created by the allies during WWII in preparation for the D-Day landings, were also artificial islands constructed in a similar manner for the purpose of providing supplies and reinforcements until an established harbor could be secured (Stanford, 1951; Ryan, 1959; Bettwy, 2015).
Generally speaking, the near offshore environment has not been heavily mined for tsunami evidence. While tsunami-related studies have increased exponentially in the past decade, there are far fewer studies that present shallow offshore finds. In their summary of the state of research in paleotsunami deposits Rhodes et al. (2006) asked, “Does a record of paleotsunamis exist in the near offshore stratigraphic record?”. By that time, Vandenbergh et al. (2003) had demonstrated the presence of shallow offshore deposits using both geophysical survey and coring in NW Java, Indonesia and Abrantes et al. (2005) described events correlatable to sediment core horizons in Lisbon, Portugal. Since then, a few studies of past and recent tsunami events and modeling have answered Rhodes' question in the affirmative as well. Some examples beyond the work in Caesarea (Reinhardt et al., 2006; Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009, Dey and Goodman 2010, Dey et al. 2014) include cores collected from Augusta Bay, Italy (de Martini et al., 2010; Smedile et al., 2012), offshore boulders mapped in western Banda Aceh, Indonesia (Paris et al., 2009), Weiss and Bahlburg's (2006) modeling predictions suggesting the presence of deposits in the shallow offshore. The near offshore environment is still more poorly understood relative to terrestrial coastal areas.
The interpretation of three sub-seafloor reflectors mapped offshore of Caesarea (Fig. 3) conclude with the presence of distinctive and unique coastal structural configurations at the time of past tsunami events. The mapping suggests regionally significant impedance contrasts, that were interpreted here as marking the last/uppermost expression of known tsunami deposits previously sampled, analyzed and interpreted on this margin (Fig. 4). In all cases, we assume, and this is supported by modern studies elsewhere (Paris et al., 2009), that immediately following any tsunami, complex processes of alteration and erosion occur, particularly in depths exposed to storm activity and other coastal processes (e.g., long shore transport). In this part of the Mediterranean, these tsunami deposits, or what part of them is preserved after exposure to later storm and long-shore transport effects, are buried under Nile River–derived sands. Therefore, we suspect that the reflector maps of the two subsurface reflectors (Fig. 6B, C) does not give a reading of what the sea bottom looked like immediately following the tsunami, but at the time of the tsunamite’s eventual burial, which could be a matter of decades or more. Therefore, the apparent drainage features we observe are probably only preserved remnants of tsunami backwash features which, at the time of their formation, would have been even more distinctive and pronounced, as is true in modern analogues (Bahlburg and Spiske, 2012; Feldens et al., 2009; Hori et al., 2007; Paris et al., 2009). Each event has a unique signature that relates to the state of the coastline and the structures present at that time.
The results of the high-resolution seismic survey of Caesarea support previous studies that have argued for the presence of laterally extensive tsunamigenic deposits in and around that ancient harbor complex. Santorini-age tsunami deposits are present, but not everywhere identifiable. The earlier interpretation that the ancient harbor of Caesarea was relatively intact at the time of the first historically documented tsunami that would have impacted it, ~1–2nd century, possibly 115 CE, is supported by the presence of pronounced (backwash) channels in association with the entrance to the ancient harbor. In contrast, the harbor's appearance was much degraded by the time of a known 8th century tsunami (749 CE), which is emphasized by the presence of a series of preserved remnant channels, testifying to multiple backwash paths. These preserved paleo-bathymetric features could be recognized at other archaeological sites and may provide a new preserved indicator for ancient tsunamis, further reinforcing the usefulness of the offshore record, particularly relative to the relatively quickly altered and erased terrestrial record (Szczuciński, 2011).
A sedimentary deposit on the continental shelf off Caesarea Maritima, Israel, is identified, dated, and attributed to tsunami waves produced during the Late Bronze Age (ca. 1630–1550 B.C.E.) eruption of Santorini, Greece. The sheet-like deposit was found as a layer as much as 40 cm thick in four cores collected from 10 to 20 m water depths. Particle-size distribution, planar bedding, shell taphocoenosis, dating (radiocarbon, optically stimulated luminescence, and pottery), and comparison of the horizon to more recent tsunamigenic layers distinguish it from normal storm and typical marine conditions across a wide (>1 km²) lateral area. The presence of this deposit is evidence that tsunami waves from the Santorini eruption radiated throughout the Eastern Mediterranean Sea, affecting the coastal people living there. Dates for the tsunami deposit bracket both the so-called “high” and “low” chronology for the Santorini eruption. In addition to resolving the question of the extent of tsunami impact from the Santorini eruption, the research presented also provides a new means of discovering, identifying, and studying continuous records of paleotsunami deposits in the upper shelf coastal environment. The latter is key to understanding past events, better interpreting sedimentological records, and creating stronger models for understanding tsunami propagation, coastal management, and hazard preparation worldwide.
The Plinian eruption of Santorini (Thera, ca. 1630–1550 B.C.E.; Friedrich et al., 2006; Manning et al., 2006), Greece, in the Late Bronze Age, at an estimated 7.1 on the Volcanic Explosivity Index (McCoy et al., 2000), was one of the largest eruptions in human antiquity (Friedrich et al., 2006; Manning et al., 2006; McCoy and Heiken, 2000; Sigurdsson et al., 2006). The extent to which the eruption precipitated tsunami waves has long been debated, as has the question of the range and magnitude attained by such waves (Yokoyama, 1978).
Four sediment cores were collected (Fig. DR1 in the GSA Data Repository1) and one area (area W) was re-excavated with dredges in the sandy upper shoreface (~15 to 20 m below msl) offshore of Caesarea (Fig. 1B), in order to
A minimum of one and a maximum of three tsunamigenic horizons were identified in each of the cores (Figs. 2 and 3; Figs. DR2–DR6). Event 1, ca. 1.5 ka ago, corresponds chronologically with a historically documented event of 551 C.E. (Amiran et al., 1994; Mart and Perecman, 1996; Salamon et al., 2007); it is well represented across all of the cores and trenches, and is also present in the findings of previous archaeological excavations (Raban, 2008; Reinhardt and Raban, 2008, 1999; Reinhardt et al., 2006, 1994, 1998), where this horizon was interpreted solely as isolated deposits of jettisoned archaeological materials, or a storm layer (Boyce et al., 2009; Reinhardt et al., 2006). The new results complement the previous interpretation that onloading and offl oading of goods occurred outside of the harbor (Boyce et al., 2009), particularly in the light of possible tsunami-related damage to the harbor. Tsunamite indicators of event 2, ca. 2 ka ago, which correspond with an historical event of 115 C.E. (Amiran et al., 1994; Kortekaas and Dawson, 2007; Mart and Perecman, 1996), are visible in all of the cores. Event 3, OSL and radiocarbon dated to 3630–3410 cal (calibrated) yr B.P., and thus to the period of the Santorini eruption, was identified in cores 1–4. The Santorini-age event differs from the more recent events in the amount of archaeologically related materials in the deposits (Fig. 3B). During events 1 and 2, Caesarea was already built, and therefore the horizon is rich with related anthropogenic debris from the well-populated port city, whereas no major city is known to have existed at that site during event 3 (Late Bronze Age). Therefore, many of the tsunamigenic indicators present during events 1 and 2 are irrelevant for event 3.
Tsunami horizons coincident with the Santorini eruption were identified from upper shelf submerged sediment cores in the Eastern Mediterranean offshore from Caesarea, Israel, based on the correlation of well-dated horizons with tsunamigenic indicators. The continental shelf contains a wealth of undisturbed deposits to better inform and complete the paleotsunami record worldwide, particularly for the many areas where shelf bathymetry similar to that of the Eastern Mediterranean exists. These findings constitute the most comprehensive evidence to date that the tsunami event precipitated by the eruption of Santorini reached the maximum extent of the Eastern Mediterranean.
Figure 1
Figure 2
Figure 3
Fig. 2
Research on the demise of Caesarea's harbor (Reinhardt et al., 1994; Reinhardt and Raban, 1999) agrees generally that the timing of initial major deterioration had occurred at least by the end of the 2nd century CE (see also Raban, 1992; Raban, 1995; Reinhardt and Raban, 2008; see Hohlfelder, 2000, for alternate timing). Evidence to support the role of tsunamis in this initial damage takes the form of laterally extensive sedimentary horizons with interpreted tsunamigenic characteristics (details follow below) recorded offshore, as well as reviews of archaeological reports demonstrating the presence of corresponding deposits on land (Reinhardt et al., 2006; Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009; Dey and Goodman-Tchernov, 2010; Dey et al., 2014).
Using ceramics, Reinhardt and Raban (1999) dated a high energy subsea deposit inside the harbor at Caesarea to the late 1st / early 2nd century CE. This, along with other supporting evidence, indicated that the outer harbor breakwater must have subsided around this time. They attributed the subsidence to seismic activity.
L4 — Destruction PhaseLater they suggested that the subsidence had a neotectonic origin.
The first to second century A.D. basal rubble unit (L4) was found on the carbonate cemented sandstone bedrock (locally known as kurkar) and was characteristic of a high-energy water deposit (Fig. 2). The rubble was framework supported with little surrounding matrix and composed mainly of cobble-sized material, which was well rounded, heavily encrusted (e.g., bryozoans, calcareous algae), and bored (Lithophaga lithophaga, Cliona) on its upper surface. The rubble had variable lithologies including basalts, gabbros, and dolomites, all of which are absent on the Israeli coastal plain and were likely transported to the site as ship ballast (probably from Cyprus). The surrounding matrix was composed of shell material (mainly Glycymeris insubricus), pebbles, and coarse sand. The pottery sherds found in this unit were well rounded, encrusted, and dated to the first to second century A.D. The date for this unit and its sedimentological characters clearly records the existence of high-energy conditions within the inner harbor about 100-200 yr after the harbor was built. This evidence of high-energy water conditions indicates that the outer harbor breakwaters must have been severely degraded by this time to allow waves to penetrate the inner confines of the harbor (Fig. 3, A and B).
Indication of the rapid destruction of the outer harbor breakwaters toward the end of the first century A.D. is derived from additional data recovered from the outer harbor. In the 1993 season, a late first century A.D. shipwreck was found on the southern submerged breakwater. The merchant ship was carrying lead ingots that were narrowly dated to A.D. 83-96 based on the inscription "IMP.DOMIT.CAESARIS.AUG.GER." which refers to the Roman Emperor Domitianus (Raban, 1999). The wreck was positioned on the harbor breakwater, indicating that this portion of the structure must have been submerged to allow a ship to run-up and founder on top (Raban, 1999; Fig. 3B). Because Josephus praised the harbor in grand terms and referred to it as a functioning entity around A.D. 75-79, and yet portions of the breakwater were submerged by A.D. 83-96, we conclude that there was a rapid deterioration and submergence of the harbor, probably through seismic activity.
Evidence for neotectonic subsidence of the harbor has been reinforced by separate geologic studies (stratigraphic analysis of boreholes, Neev et al., 1987; seismic surveys, Mart and Perecman, 1996) that recognize faults in the shallow continental shelf and in the proximity of Caesarea; one fault extends across the central portion of the harbor. However, obtaining precise dates for movement along the faults is difficult. Archaeological evidence of submergence can be useful for dating and determining the magnitude of these events: however, at Caesarea the evidence is not always clear.Neotectonic subsidence is unlikely. As pointed out by Dey et al(2014), the coastline appears to have been stable for the past ~2000 years (Fig. 2) with sea level fluctuating no more than ± 50 cm, no pronounced vertical displacement of the city's Roman aqueduct (Raban, 1989:18-21), and harbor constructions completed directly on bedrock showing no signs of subsidence. However, Reinhardt and Raban (1999) considered more realistic possibilities for submergence of harbor installations such as seismically induced liquefaction, storm scour, and tsunamis.
The submergence of the outer harbor break-waters at the end of the first century A.D. could have also been due to seismic liquefaction of the sediment. Excavations have shown that the harbor breakwaters were constructed on well-sorted sand that could have undergone liquefaction with seismic activity. In many instances the caissons are tilted (15°-20° from horizontal; Raban et al., 1999a) and at different elevations, which could be due to differential settling (area K; Fig. 1). However, the tilting could also be due to undercutting by current scour from large-scale storms (or tsunamis) and not exclusively seismic activity. Our data from the inner harbor cannot definitively ascribe the destruction of the harbor at the end of the first century A.D. to a seismic event, although some of the data support this conclusion. However, regardless of the exact mechanism, our sedimentological evidence from the inner harbor and the remains of the late first century A.D. shipwreck indicate that the submergence of the outer breakwater occurred early in the life of the harbor and was more rapid and extensive than previously thought.Goodman-Tchernov and Austin (2015) examined and dated cores taken seaward of the harbor and identified 2 tsunamite deposits (see Tsunamogenic Evidence) including one which dates to to the 1st-2nd century CE. Although, it is tempting to correlate the 1st-2nd century CE tsunamite deposits of Goodman-Tchernov and Austin (2015) to the L4 destruction phase identified in the harbor ( Reinhardt and Raban, 1999), the chronologies presented by Goodman-Tchernov and Austin (2015) suffer from some imprecision due to the usual paucity of dating material that one encounters with cores. Further, the harbor subsidence and breakwater degradation dated by Reinhardt and Raban (1999) may not have been caused by seismic activity. If it was related to seismic activity, the early 2nd century CE Incense Road Quake is a better candidate than the 115 CE Trajan Quake because it would have produced higher intensities in Caesarea.
At the very deepest spot where the airlift penetrated, beneath huge stone blocks which teetered precariously above the divers' heads, was uncovered a large wooden beam. Beneath its protective cover the divers found the only whole amphora of our dig. This proved to be a second century Roman vessel. The fact that it was found under the tumbled beam and masonry would indicate that these things were catapulted into the sea at the same time. Since there is a strong earthquake recorded in the area of Caesarea in the year A.D. 130 [JW: this refers to the Eusebius Mystery Quake - could also be Incense Road Quake], it may possibly be that the harbor installations of Herod were destroyed at that time.
Other finds recovered from the original bottom, now under fifteen feet of sand, included numerous sherds of second century amphorae, corroded bronze coins, ivory hairpins, colorful bits of glass and other objects of the Roman period. Two objects were of special significance. One was a small lead baling seal with a standing winged figure. It has a pinpoint hole near its center, and a rather deep, depressed line on the back of it, as though made by a wire.3
The other object was probably the most important thing discovered at Caesarea this past summer. It was a small commemorative coin or medal made of an unidentified alloy, about the size of a ten-cent piece, with two holes drilled through it as if it might have been worn as a pendant. Upon the face of it there is the representation of the entrance to a port flanked by round stone towers surmounted by statues. Arches border the jetty on either side of the towers, and two sailing vessels are about to enter the harbor. Two letters, KA, may well be the abbreviation for the word Caesarea. The other side of the coin shows the figure of a male with a long beard and a tail like a dolphin, with a mace-like object in his hand. Coin experts who have seen this piece agree that it is unique, and that it undoubtedly depicts the ancient port of Caesarea. It may have been issued to commemorate some important occasion at Caesarea in the first or second century A.D.Footnotes3. This object may be an amulet, the winged figure representing Horus, the Egyptian sun god who wards off lurking evils. Cf. E.A.W. Budge, Amulets and Superstitions (London, 1930) 166. A close examination of the original piece, however, leads one to conclude that it is a baling seal.
The construction of harbours along high energy nearshore environments, which commonly include the emplacement of hard structures both as central features (e.g., piers, jetties) as well as protective measures (e.g., wave breakers, coastal armouring), can alter coastlines in a multitude of ways. These include reconfiguring the coast’s morphology, introducing or redistributing exogenous and endogenous materials, and changing localized environmental substrate and structural conditions; and, as a result, impact the associated ecological communities. With growing coastal populations and associated coastal development, concerns over the long-term consequences of such projects are of global interest. Caesarea Maritima, a large-scale, artificially constructed ancient harbour built between 21 and 10 BCE, provides a rare opportunity to address these impacts and investigate its fingerprint on the landscape over 2000 years. To approach this, representative sediment samples were isolated and analyzed from two sediment cores (C1, C2), an excavated trench (W), and a sample of ancient harbour construction material (aeolianite sandstone and hydraulic concrete; COF). Geochemical (Itrax μXRF, magnetic susceptibility) and foraminifera analyses were conducted and results from both methods were statistically grouped into significantly similar clusters. Results demonstrated the increased presence of aeolianite-associated elemental contributions only after the construction of Caesarea as well as in particularly high concentrations following previously proposed tsunami events, during which shallower and deeper materials would have been transported and redeposited. The foraminifera data shows the appearance and eventual abundance dominance of Pararotalia calcariformata as an indicator of coastal hardening. Results suggest that they are an especially well-suited species to demonstrate changing environmental conditions existing today. In previous studies, this species was mistakenly presented as a recent Lessepsian arrival from the Red Sea, when in fact it has had a long history as an epiphyte living on hardgrounds in the Mediterranean and co-existencing with humans and their harbour-building habits. Specimens of P. calcariformata, therefore, are useful indicators for the timing of harbour construction at Caesarea and may be used as rapid and cost-effective biostratigraphic indicators on sandy nearshore coastline in future geoarchaeological studies. This has implications for future studies along the Israeli coast, including both paleoenvironmental and modern ecological assessments.
Ancient harbour sediments and stratigraphy are often studied because they contain evidence of past environmental change including climate, sea-level, and anthropogenic activity (Blackman, 1982a, 1982b; Kamoun et al., 2019, 2020, 2021; Marriner and Morhange, 2007; Reinhardt et al., 1994; Riddick et al., 2021; Riddick et al., 2022a, 2022b; Salomon et al., 2016). The analysis and interpretation of environmental proxies (e.g., microfossils, geochemistry, lithology, etc.) can be more straightforward in cases of shoreline progradation, where relative sea-level changes, siltation, and/or high input of river sediments have resulted in landlocked marine structures (i.e., within lagoons or estuaries). Sediments in these cases often record transitions from marine to more brackish/freshwater conditions associated with construction of harbour structures and/or natural barriers that are identifiable through changes in microfossil assemblages, sediment grain size and geochemistry, and other environmental indicators (Amato et al., 2020; Finkler et al., 2018; Kamoun et al., 2022; Pint et al., 2015; Stock et al., 2013, 2016).
The Israeli Mediterranean coastline (Fig. 1) is mostly characterized by unconsolidated sands and Pleistocene aeolian sandstone ridges (‘kurkar’). These thick calcareous-cemented sand beds accumulated cyclically between thin layers of iron-rich paleosols (‘hamra’) and currently run parallel to the coast, both on and offshore (Almagor et al., 2000; Ronen, 2018). The southern two thirds of the coastline are characterized by sandy beaches (Emery and Neev, 1960). The tidal range is relatively small along the coast (0.4 during spring tides, 0.15 m during neap tides; Golik and Rosen, 1999). Offshore sediments are transported through two different types of nearshore currents: an inner edge of the general offshore current (which moves northwards, counterclockwise along the eastern end of the Mediterranean; Fig. 1), and a wave-induced longshore current (Emery and Neev, 1960; Goldsmith and Golik, 1980; Klein et al., 2007; Schattner et al., 2015). The largest waves in this region generally approach the coast from a WNW direction, which results in a longshore current to the northeast along the curved southern shoreline (Fig. 1). Where these waves approach parallel or at an angle opposite to that of the southern coast (e.g., some areas towards the northern coastline of Israel), a small, southward longshore current is produced (Emery and Neev, 1960; Goldsmith and Golik, 1980; Zviely et al., 2007). Located towards the northern extent of the Nile Littoral Cell, offshore sediments near Caesarea are predominantly transported from the south through this wave-induced longshore current (Emery and Neev, 1960; Goldsmith and Golik, 1980; Golik, 1993, 1997; Katz and Crouvi, 2018; Schattner et al., 2015; Zviely et al., 2007). Prior to the construction of the Aswan Dam in the 1960s, approximately 100,000 m3/yr of clastic sediments reach the coasts of Caesarea, largely sourced from Central Africa and the Ethiopian Highlands (Nir, 1984). These sediments are dominated by silica (quartz), alumina, and trivalent iron oxides (e.g., aluminosilicates) with minor amounts of heavy minerals (Goldsmith et al., 2001; Inman and Jenkins, 1984; Nir, 1984). The majority of heavy minerals include hornblende, augite, and epidotes, as well as minor amounts of resistant (e.g., zircon, tourmaline, rutile) and metamorphic minerals (e.g., sillimanite, staurolite, kyanite; Stanley, 1989). Local sources (i.e., eroded kurkar, onshore sediments, marine productivity) contribute some calcareous sediment to the nearshore environment (Goldsmith et al., 2001; Inman and Jenkins, 1984; Nir, 1984; see Supplementary Data 1 for more details on dominant minerals, compositions, and sources). Sand-sized sediment extends 3–5 km from the shore to water depths of ~25 m, while increasing amounts of silt and clay (mainly smectite, with minor kaolinite and illite) are found further offshore in slightly deeper water (30–50 m depths; Almagor et al., 2000; Emery and Neev, 1960; Nir, 1984; Sandler and Herut, 2000). The siliclastic sands, which characterize most of the nearshore, transition into more carbonate-rich sediments with higher instances of rocky substrates north of Haifa Bay (Almagor et al., 2000; Avnaim-Katav et al., 2015; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2014; Nir, 1984).
The historical site of Caesarea Maritima is located ~40 km south of Haifa, on the Israeli Mediterranean coast (34◦53.5′E 32◦30.5′N). Over six decades of research have provided details on the construction and deterioration of its harbour, also referred to as Sebastos, the largest artificial open-sea Mediterranean harbour of its time (Brandon, 2008; Hohlfelder et al., 2007). The harbour was constructed between 21 and 10 BCE using local kurkar and imported volcanic material (Vola et al., 2011; Votruba, 2007). Local kurkar is characterized by well-sorted quartz with calcite and minor amounts of feldspar, biotite, heavy minerals (e.g., hornblende, augite, zircon, rutile, tourmaline, magnetite, garnet, etc.), and allochems (Wasserman, 2021). Volcanic material has been used in concrete by the Romans since the 2nd century BCE (Oleson, 1988), often sourced from the Bay of Naples Neopolitan Yellow Tuff (NYT) deposits. Pozzolanic tuff-ash from this region was used in hydraulic concrete to form the breakwaters and foundations for harbour moles at Sebastos (Vola et al., 2011; Votruba, 2007). The mixture of lime, pozzolana, and aggregate provided a strong concrete that could set underwater. At Caesarea, the dominant coarse aggregates in the hydraulic concrete are kurkar sandstone and limestone (4 mm–20 cm in size; Vola et al., 2011). The mortar contains high proportions of pozzolanic material (yellow brown tuff ash/aggregates, lava fragments) with dominant minerals identified as sanidine, clinopyroxene, analcime, and phillipsite. The cementitious binding matrix contains similar material (calcite, tobermorite, ettringite, Calcium–Aluminum–Silic ate–Hydrate) and was likely produced by the reaction between powdered pozzolanic material, lime, and seawater. Non-pozzolanic portions include white lime clasts, kurkar sandstone aggregates, ceramics, and wood fragments, with dominant minerals identified as tobermorite, quartz, illite, anthophyllite, ettringite, halite, bassanite, and sjogrenite (Vola et al., 2011; Supplementary Data 1).
Studies of both living and dead benthic foraminifera assemblages along the Israeli coast of the Mediterranean Sea indicate that substrate type (often linked to bathymetry), food availability, and seasonality are the main factors controlling the distribution of species (Arieli et al., 2011; Avnaim-Katav et al., 2013, 2015, 2016a, 2020, 2021; HyamsKaphzan et al., 2008, 2009, 2014). Certain taxa such as Ammonia parkinsoniana and Buccella spp. are highly abundant in the shallow (3–20 m), sandy nearshore settings. Others including Ammonia inflata, Ammonia tepida, Elphidium spp., Porosononion spp., and miliolids are often observed in slightly deeper (20–40 m), silty to clayey environments further offshore on the inner Israeli shelf (Avnaim-Katav et al., 2013, 2015, 2016a, 2016b, 2017, 2020, 2021; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2008, 2009, 2014). Epiphytic taxa, which live on roots, stems, and leaves of plants (Langer, 1993; Langer et al., 1998), are highly associated with the micro- and macroalgal-covered hard substrates along the Israeli Mediterranean coast, especially the carbonate-rich rocky settings along the northern coast (Arieli et al., 2011; Avnaim-Katav et al., 2013, 2015, 2021; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2008, 2014). Coralline red algae (e.g., Galaxuara rugosa and Jania rubens) are highly abundant along the Israeli coast, along with other types of red (e.g., Centroceras sp., Ceramium sp., Bangia sp., Halopteris scoparia, Laurencia sp., Neosiphonia sp., and Polysiphonia sp.), brown (e.g., Dictyora sp., and Ectocarpus sp.), and green algae (Codium sp. and Ulva sp.; Arieli et al., 2011; Bresler and Yanko, 1995a, 1995b; Emery and Neev, 1960; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2014; Schmidt et al., 2015). Some of the most common epiphytic foraminifera taxa observed here include Amphistegina lobifera, Lachlanella spp., Heterostegina depressa, Pararotalia calcariformata, Rosalina globularis, Textularia agglutinans, and Tretomphalus bulloides, (Arieli et al., 2011; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2014). Many of these larger, symbiont bearing foraminifera are widely assumed to be more recently introduced Lessepsian species, a term used to describe Red Sea/Indian Ocean tropical species that have arrived after the construction of the Suez Canal (1869 CE). While some have been linked genetically and morphologically with their Red Sea communities, others, such as P. calcariformata (Schmidt et al., 2015; Stulpinaite et al., 2020) still have not
Specimens of P. calcariformata McCulloch, 1977 were originally identified as P. spinigera (Le Calvez, 1949) on the Israeli coast, in particular within dated, stratigraphically discreet underwater archaeological excavations and geological collections (e.g., in Reinhardt et al. (1994, 2003), Reinhardt and Raban (1999)). Schmidt et al. (2015)’s initial error occurred when they mistook the date of the first publication that reported them on this coastline for the timing of their first observation (see reference to Reinhardt et al., 1994 in introduction of Schmidt et al., 2015). In fact, the P. calcariformata in that study were firmly positioned in sediments dating to at least 1500 years ago. P. calcariformata is a well-documented epiphyte, found in highest abundances near hard substrates (up to 96% in shallow rocky habitats) of the Israeli coast (Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2014; Reinhardt et al., 2003), usually living on calcareous algae and other seaweeds (e.g., Jania rubens, Halimeda, Sargassum, Cystoseira; Arieli et al., 2011; Bresler and Yanko, 1995a, 1995b; Emery and Neev, 1960; Schmidt et al., 2015, 2018). It is observed less frequently (up to 20% relative abundances) in shallow, soft-bottomed, sandy sediments (Avnaim-Katav et al., 2017, 2020; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2008, 2009). Recent work on this species explores its microalgal symbionts (Schmidt et al., 2015, 2018) and its high heat tolerance (Schmidt et al., 2016; Titelboim et al., 2016, 2017). These studies predict that warming sea temperatures will play a role in expanding populations of P. calcariformata along the Mediterranean.
W is described in Reinhardt et al. (2006), while C1 and C2 are described in Goodman-Tchernov et al. (2009). W (~2 m of excavated sediment) contains two main shell layers: (i) a poorly sorted mix of Glycymeris spp. and pebbles from ~107–165 cm, with convex-up oriented fragments in the top portion, and (ii) a heterogeneous layer of shell fragments, ship ballast, and pottery shards from ~39–59 cm. The intervening units consist of massive, homogeneous, medium-grained sand with isolated articulated and fragmented bivalve shells and/or pebbles. The upper ~0–39 cm also contains thin layers of shells and pebbles (Fig. 2). The upper 126 cm of C1 contains two shell layers: (i) a poorly sorted mix of Glycymeris spp. and pebbles, with fragments of worn pottery from 85 to 94 cm, and (ii) poorly sorted, convex-up oriented Glycymeris spp. and pebbles from 28 to 42 cm. The intervening units are massive, tan/grey, fine-grained sand, some with isolated bivalves and/or pebbles (Fig. 2). C2 (174 cm) similarly contains two shell layers: (i) framework supported, convex-up oriented Glycymeris spp. fragments from 132 to 138 cm, and (ii) convex-up oriented Glycymeris spp. fragments from 29 to 43 cm. The intervening units are massive, tan/ Gy, fine-grained sand with some silt and isolated bivalves.
Elemental (μXRF) results are shown in Fig. 3 and Supplementary Data 2. Average counts of Zr increase upcore in each sampling area, with uppermost values ~2–3 times higher than those at the base (~700–1000 compared to 200–400; Fig. 3, Supplementary Data 2). Ca is highly variable throughout all sampling areas, with some peaks up to 1.7× higher (~300,000) in shell layers than in sandy samples. Counts of Si remain relatively high (~17,000) throughout time, with some decreases up to 1.5–2.5× lower in shell layers. Average Ti values are variable through time (~6000) with some spikes up to 2× higher at the top and bottom of C1 and surrounding the bottom shell layer of C2. Fe follows similar trends to Ti, with values ~2× higher near the top and bottom of C1 and the darker sandy sediments of C2 (161–123 cm) compared to the intervening sandy samples (counts of ~6000–7000). Counts of Sr remain quite constant throughout all sampling areas over time (~2000), with a slight increasing trend in the upper portions of C1 and C2 (values up to ~1.3×; Fig. 3, Supplementary Data 2).
Thirteen statistically significant foraminifera taxa were identified across W, C1, and C2, and the cluster analysis revealed four significant (au >95%) assemblages (A1, A2, A3, A4; Figs. 6 and 7, Supplementary Data 3). The NMDS showed that the four assemblages overlapped, especially A2, A3, and A4, suggesting that samples within these assemblages were quite similar despite grouping distinctly (Fig. 6). A1 contains only samples from the tops of W and C1. This assemblage is dominated by A. parkinsoniana (~3–21%), P. calcariformata (~43–74%), and miliolids (~13–20%; Fig. 7; Supplementary Data 3). A2 contains samples from the sand and lower shell layers of W, as well as the lower shell layer of C2. Assemblage A2 is dominated by A. parkinsoniana (~46–70%), Porosononion spp. (~0–19%), and miliolids (~12–22%). Assemblage A3 contains samples from the top and middle shell layers of C1, as well as the top sand, middle sand and shell layers of C2. Dominant specimens within this assemblage include A. parkinsoniana (~4–23%), P. calcariformata (~0–19%), Porosononion spp. (~2–11%), and miliolids (~42–69%). A4 contains samples from the middle sand layers of C1, as well as the middle sand, and bottom shell and sand layers of C2 (Fig. 7). This assemblage is dominated by A. parkinsoniana (~20–44%), P. calcariformata (~0–21%), Porosononion spp. (~1–17%), miliolids (~21–46%), and planktonic foraminifera (~0–15%; Fig. 7; Supplementary Data 3).
Prior to the construction of Sebastos, the shoreline at Caesarea was characterized by a soft-bottomed, unconsolidated sandy beach overlying regional kurkar ridges (Fig. 8; Almagor et al., 2000; Reinhardt et al., 1994; Ronen, 2018). This is reflected in both foraminifera and geochemistry results in C2 and the lower two thirds of C1 and W (Figs. 3, 7). Biofacies A2, A3, and A4 (pre-harbour), characterized by relatively higher proportions of A. parkinsoniana, miliolids, and Porsononion spp., are consistent with Reinhardt et al. (1994)’s pre-harbour foraminiferal faunal results (Fig. 7). These taxa are typically associated with shallow and mid-depth (3–20 m, and 20–40 m) Nilotic sands and silty–clayey sediments of the Israeli inner shelf (Avnaim-Katav et al., 2013, 2015, 2016b, 2017, 2019, 2020, 2021; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2008, 2009, 2014). The minor presence of P. calcariformata at the bottom of C2 and in pre-harbour sediments is associated with the coarse shell unit of the Santorini tsunami (Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009). This event transported shallow marine sediment offshore including the epiphytic P. calcariformata, likely from the kurkar hard grounds (Reinhardt et al., 2003).
The chemofacies results reflect coastal development, mainly through SC1, SC2, and SC7. SC1 is a coarser grain version of sediments that cluster with SC2. SC1 replaces SC2 in the upper portion of all three cores. The reduction in clays (indicated by Ti) and increase in silica within this shift in chemofacies suggests slight grain coarsening over time, while the increase in Ba indicates an increase in productivity. This slight shift over time may represent natural changes in sediment sources (e.g., variations in White and Blue Nile sediments, terrestrial inputs, etc.) and/or anthropogenic influence (Kalman et al., 2022). SC7, which relates to the kurkar component of sediments (Figs. 4 and 5), appears much more frequently post-harbour and with tsunami influence. Kurkar was heavily used in the construction of the harbour (Vola et al., 2011; Votruba, 2007), and tsunamis transported and deposited this material further offshore. The slight presence of SC7 in the Santorini event layer (C1, Fig. 5) reflects this process occurring pre-harbour, with natural kurkar deposits along the coast.
lations is evident in A1, at the tops of W and C1 (Fig. 7). This assemblage contains distinctly higher abundances of P. calcariformata (Fig. 9; Supplementary Data 4), a common epiphytic species usually found in association with calcareous algae in rocky areas of the Israeli inner shelf (Arieli et al., 2011; Bresler and Yanko, 1995a, 1995b; Emery and Neev, 1960; Hyams-Kaphzan et al., 2014; Reinhardt et al., 2003; Schmidt et al., 2015, 2018). As harbour structures progressively over time, increasing amounts of cryptic spaces would have formed, providing increasing amounts of surface area for algal or seagrass growth. Ratio values for Sr/Ca do not seem to vary significantly over time, suggesting a continuous presence of aragonitic organisms (shells, calcareous algae, etc.). In C1, values slightly increase over time following a drop during the Late Byzantine tsunami event (Fig. 3) which may be related to an increase in calcareous algal growth on harbour ruins. Increased sample resolution would help to confirm this trend. Hard substrates (i.e., submerged harbour structures) with algal growth are optimal settings for P. calcariformata, and increased populations of this species after harbour construction are recorded in all three sampling areas. After death, these specimens would have detached from the algalcovered harbour and been transported to the nearby sediments by onshore-offshore transport mechanisms discussed above (Section 5.1), especially by strong storm waves during winter months (Fig. 8; Almagor et al., 2000; Quick, 1991). Higher abundances are recorded in deposits close to the site (i.e., W and C1), though their presence is still observed 800 m from the harbour structures (C2; Fig. 7).
Based on the distribution pattern of P. calcariformata observed here, alternative applications of epiphytic foraminifera along high energy sandy shoreface settings could include long-term studies on sediment dynamics (e.g., tracking sediment transport in and around coastal structures, the extent of onshore-offshore sand movement, tracking the extent of the storm weather wave base over time, etc.). Understanding sediment dynamics is important for coast engineering projects (Leys and Mulligan, 2011). Fluorescent tracers are often used to assess onshoreoffshore sediment transport and sediment accumulation patterns around marinas; however, these methods only provide data spanning several months (Klein et al., 2007). Because the main source of P. calcariformata in high energy sandy shoreface settings is the submerged surface of harbour structures (anthropogenic hard grounds), these microfossils can provide long-term data on onshore-offshore transport trends, sediment accumulation patterns around the harbour itself, and on longshore transport patterns along the coast. This could enhance studies using fluorescent tracers as it provides more long-term information.
This study shows that anthropogenically altered coastlines, in particular hard coastal structures, leave a fingerprint on their environment not only through changed elemental composition but also biomarkers such as epiphytic foraminifera. These changes are present and recognizable in the ancient harbour context at Caesarea Maritima. There, an excavated trench area (W), two sediment cores (C1, C2), and a piece of harbour material (COF) were analyzed through elemental (μXRF, magnetic susceptibility) and/or foraminifera analyses. Heavy mineral proxies (Zr + Ti/Ca, Zr + Ti/Si, magnetic susceptibility) indicate that particulate matter offshore, originating as part of or due to the harbour structures have increased since the construction of the harbour ~2000 years ago. Benthic foraminifera assemblages A3, and A4 reflect the shallow and mid-depth (3–40 m) sandy to sandy silt substrates that characterized much of the nearshore Israeli coast prior to harbour construction. Post-construction assemblages (e.g., A1, A2) include increasing abundances of epiphytic species, especially P. calcariformata. This species was successfully used as a biostratigraphic indicator for the timing of harbour construction as it is present in significant abundances only after the harbour and city are established around 2000 years ago. Pararotalia calcariformata was recently erroneously assumed to be a recent invasive species, increasing in population along the Israeli coast following the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869. Results from this study suggest that this species is endemic to the Israeli coast, observed here in coastal sediments pre-dating the canal opening by thousands of years. The recent attention on this species as a marker of changing environments and climate, suggested due to its current proliferation along the coastline and heat tolerance, is not an error and is worthy of continued study. We add here, in agreement, that it is a harbinger of anthropogenic change and thrives on the increased coarsening and hardening of the coastline and shallow shelf, outcomes of post-Aswan Dam decreases in the delivery of fine sediments (Kalman et al., 2022), coastal armouring, and general development.
Modern observations have shown that harbors are especially vulnerable to the effects of tsunamis, both due to their position on the coastline and the tendency for tsunamigenic eddy production within enclosed harbor basins. Presumably, this was as much the case in the past as in the present. The Roman-era mega-harbor Caesarea Maritima, which is today submerged in some parts up to 5 m below sea level, is an ideal research site for understanding these impacts. Over the past three decades, archeologists, geologists and historians have searched for the cause of the rapid demise of this harbor, turning to explanations ranging from offshore faults, seismic disturbances, general failure and deterioration, to liquefaction and settling on unconsolidated sands. While tsunamis are recorded repeatedly in the Eastern Mediterranean historical record, it has only been in the past decade that physical evidence directly attributed to tsunamigenic sediments along the Israeli coastline near Caesarea has been documented. To date, deposits from at least three tsunami events that impacted the harbor have been identified in sediment cores, coastal exposures and archeological trenches, but no laterally continuous picture has been produced. In this study, using a dense offshore survey produced by a high-resolution subbottom profiler, shallowly buried sediment horizons offshore of Caesarea produce distinctive reflectors that correlate with the tsunamigenic stratigraphic sequence identified in cores and excavations. These surface structure maps allow for a laterally extensive reconstruction of these distinctive deposits. The results have led to the following conclusions and interpretations:
Coastal morphology, including adjacent landforms, artificial structures, and coastal-fringing natural features (i.e., extensive coral reefs, mangroves, e.g., Baird et al., 2005; Fernando et al., 2005; Kunkel et al., 2006; Giri et al., 2008) can all influence the impact of tsunami wave flow (Hon et al., 2007; Sugawara et al., 2012). As the inundating wave breaches the coastline, natural and man-made obstacles that obstruct or impede the wave’s force can lead to channeling and variable flow, both as the wave advances inland and retreats seawards. Such energy redistribution is also evident in affected rivers or artificial channels, in which tsunami flow will continue inland to distances far exceeding that of uninterrupted portions of the coastline (e.g., Crete 1956, Bruins et al., 2008; Okal et al., 2009; northern Japan 2011, Mori et al., 2011; Goto, 2011a; Chile 2010, Fritz et al., 2011). The tsunami return/outflow is even more influenced by the presence of structures, and therefore is typically characterized by channeling (Umitsu et al., 2007; Feldens et al., 2009), which can result in shore-perpendicular bathymetric and topographic features (Atwater et al., 2010). In Sumatra following the 2004 tsunami, evidence of such complex back-flow included filled channels, boulders moved into deeper water, movement of sand into previously silty areas, and man-made rubble immediately seaward of the shoreline (Feldens et al., 2009; Goto, 2011b). Similarly, in northern Japan following the Tohoku-Oki earthquake in 2011, canals and road features often corresponded with variations in tsunami inundation heights along the Sendai Plain.
When King Herod had the city of Caesarea built on the coastline of what is now Israel between 25 BCE and 9/10 BCE, he applied Roman city planning, organization and building techniques, including the costly installation of a state-of-the-art, artificial mega-harbor (Holum et al., 1988; Hohlfelder, 1988, 1996; Raban, 2009; Votruba, 2007; Raban, 2008; Fig. 1). The natural environment afforded little protection or anchorage, with the exception of periodic, remnant, exposed ridges of eolianite sandstone (locally referred to as ‘kurkar’) roughly paralleling the coastline immediately offshore. These bedrock structures are exposed and eroded lithified dunes 135,000–45,000 years old (Sivan and Porat, 2004). The harbor was constructed on portions of this bedrock and extended seaward onto unconsolidated Nile River–derived sands (Goldsmith and Golik, 1980; Neev et al., 1987; Stanley, 1989; Zviely et al., 2007), with the use of man-made foundations. Roman engineers succeeded in this task by building wooden frameworks (‘caissons’) on land, then towing them into position where they were submerged, filling them with hydraulic cement, and ultimately finishing them with above-water superstructures. Fields of large cobbles (less than 20 cm diameter) were emplaced beneath the caissons (Raban, 2008), presumably to give them added stability against erosion and undermining, suggesting that the engineers of the time were aware of the inherent risks for constructing directly on unconsolidated sandy sediments. These caissons were arranged in rows to produce the spinal walls of the harbor, completing the entire project in less than 15 years (Brandon, 1996). This efficient approach to harbor construction continues to be used today. For example, ‘Mulberry I’ and “Mulberry II”, created by the allies during WWII in preparation for the D-Day landings, were also artificial islands constructed in a similar manner for the purpose of providing supplies and reinforcements until an established harbor could be secured (Stanford, 1951; Ryan, 1959; Bettwy, 2015).
Generally speaking, the near offshore environment has not been heavily mined for tsunami evidence. While tsunami-related studies have increased exponentially in the past decade, there are far fewer studies that present shallow offshore finds. In their summary of the state of research in paleotsunami deposits Rhodes et al. (2006) asked, “Does a record of paleotsunamis exist in the near offshore stratigraphic record?”. By that time, Vandenbergh et al. (2003) had demonstrated the presence of shallow offshore deposits using both geophysical survey and coring in NW Java, Indonesia and Abrantes et al. (2005) described events correlatable to sediment core horizons in Lisbon, Portugal. Since then, a few studies of past and recent tsunami events and modeling have answered Rhodes' question in the affirmative as well. Some examples beyond the work in Caesarea (Reinhardt et al., 2006; Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009, Dey and Goodman 2010, Dey et al. 2014) include cores collected from Augusta Bay, Italy (de Martini et al., 2010; Smedile et al., 2012), offshore boulders mapped in western Banda Aceh, Indonesia (Paris et al., 2009), Weiss and Bahlburg's (2006) modeling predictions suggesting the presence of deposits in the shallow offshore. The near offshore environment is still more poorly understood relative to terrestrial coastal areas.
The interpretation of three sub-seafloor reflectors mapped offshore of Caesarea (Fig. 3) conclude with the presence of distinctive and unique coastal structural configurations at the time of past tsunami events. The mapping suggests regionally significant impedance contrasts, that were interpreted here as marking the last/uppermost expression of known tsunami deposits previously sampled, analyzed and interpreted on this margin (Fig. 4). In all cases, we assume, and this is supported by modern studies elsewhere (Paris et al., 2009), that immediately following any tsunami, complex processes of alteration and erosion occur, particularly in depths exposed to storm activity and other coastal processes (e.g., long shore transport). In this part of the Mediterranean, these tsunami deposits, or what part of them is preserved after exposure to later storm and long-shore transport effects, are buried under Nile River–derived sands. Therefore, we suspect that the reflector maps of the two subsurface reflectors (Fig. 6B, C) does not give a reading of what the sea bottom looked like immediately following the tsunami, but at the time of the tsunamite’s eventual burial, which could be a matter of decades or more. Therefore, the apparent drainage features we observe are probably only preserved remnants of tsunami backwash features which, at the time of their formation, would have been even more distinctive and pronounced, as is true in modern analogues (Bahlburg and Spiske, 2012; Feldens et al., 2009; Hori et al., 2007; Paris et al., 2009). Each event has a unique signature that relates to the state of the coastline and the structures present at that time.
The results of the high-resolution seismic survey of Caesarea support previous studies that have argued for the presence of laterally extensive tsunamigenic deposits in and around that ancient harbor complex. Santorini-age tsunami deposits are present, but not everywhere identifiable. The earlier interpretation that the ancient harbor of Caesarea was relatively intact at the time of the first historically documented tsunami that would have impacted it, ~1–2nd century, possibly 115 CE, is supported by the presence of pronounced (backwash) channels in association with the entrance to the ancient harbor. In contrast, the harbor's appearance was much degraded by the time of a known 8th century tsunami (749 CE), which is emphasized by the presence of a series of preserved remnant channels, testifying to multiple backwash paths. These preserved paleo-bathymetric features could be recognized at other archaeological sites and may provide a new preserved indicator for ancient tsunamis, further reinforcing the usefulness of the offshore record, particularly relative to the relatively quickly altered and erased terrestrial record (Szczuciński, 2011).
A sedimentary deposit on the continental shelf off Caesarea Maritima, Israel, is identified, dated, and attributed to tsunami waves produced during the Late Bronze Age (ca. 1630–1550 B.C.E.) eruption of Santorini, Greece. The sheet-like deposit was found as a layer as much as 40 cm thick in four cores collected from 10 to 20 m water depths. Particle-size distribution, planar bedding, shell taphocoenosis, dating (radiocarbon, optically stimulated luminescence, and pottery), and comparison of the horizon to more recent tsunamigenic layers distinguish it from normal storm and typical marine conditions across a wide (>1 km²) lateral area. The presence of this deposit is evidence that tsunami waves from the Santorini eruption radiated throughout the Eastern Mediterranean Sea, affecting the coastal people living there. Dates for the tsunami deposit bracket both the so-called “high” and “low” chronology for the Santorini eruption. In addition to resolving the question of the extent of tsunami impact from the Santorini eruption, the research presented also provides a new means of discovering, identifying, and studying continuous records of paleotsunami deposits in the upper shelf coastal environment. The latter is key to understanding past events, better interpreting sedimentological records, and creating stronger models for understanding tsunami propagation, coastal management, and hazard preparation worldwide.
The Plinian eruption of Santorini (Thera, ca. 1630–1550 B.C.E.; Friedrich et al., 2006; Manning et al., 2006), Greece, in the Late Bronze Age, at an estimated 7.1 on the Volcanic Explosivity Index (McCoy et al., 2000), was one of the largest eruptions in human antiquity (Friedrich et al., 2006; Manning et al., 2006; McCoy and Heiken, 2000; Sigurdsson et al., 2006). The extent to which the eruption precipitated tsunami waves has long been debated, as has the question of the range and magnitude attained by such waves (Yokoyama, 1978).
Four sediment cores were collected (Fig. DR1 in the GSA Data Repository1) and one area (area W) was re-excavated with dredges in the sandy upper shoreface (~15 to 20 m below msl) offshore of Caesarea (Fig. 1B), in order to
A minimum of one and a maximum of three tsunamigenic horizons were identified in each of the cores (Figs. 2 and 3; Figs. DR2–DR6). Event 1, ca. 1.5 ka ago, corresponds chronologically with a historically documented event of 551 C.E. (Amiran et al., 1994; Mart and Perecman, 1996; Salamon et al., 2007); it is well represented across all of the cores and trenches, and is also present in the findings of previous archaeological excavations (Raban, 2008; Reinhardt and Raban, 2008, 1999; Reinhardt et al., 2006, 1994, 1998), where this horizon was interpreted solely as isolated deposits of jettisoned archaeological materials, or a storm layer (Boyce et al., 2009; Reinhardt et al., 2006). The new results complement the previous interpretation that onloading and offl oading of goods occurred outside of the harbor (Boyce et al., 2009), particularly in the light of possible tsunami-related damage to the harbor. Tsunamite indicators of event 2, ca. 2 ka ago, which correspond with an historical event of 115 C.E. (Amiran et al., 1994; Kortekaas and Dawson, 2007; Mart and Perecman, 1996), are visible in all of the cores. Event 3, OSL and radiocarbon dated to 3630–3410 cal (calibrated) yr B.P., and thus to the period of the Santorini eruption, was identified in cores 1–4. The Santorini-age event differs from the more recent events in the amount of archaeologically related materials in the deposits (Fig. 3B). During events 1 and 2, Caesarea was already built, and therefore the horizon is rich with related anthropogenic debris from the well-populated port city, whereas no major city is known to have existed at that site during event 3 (Late Bronze Age). Therefore, many of the tsunamigenic indicators present during events 1 and 2 are irrelevant for event 3.
Tsunami horizons coincident with the Santorini eruption were identified from upper shelf submerged sediment cores in the Eastern Mediterranean offshore from Caesarea, Israel, based on the correlation of well-dated horizons with tsunamigenic indicators. The continental shelf contains a wealth of undisturbed deposits to better inform and complete the paleotsunami record worldwide, particularly for the many areas where shelf bathymetry similar to that of the Eastern Mediterranean exists. These findings constitute the most comprehensive evidence to date that the tsunami event precipitated by the eruption of Santorini reached the maximum extent of the Eastern Mediterranean.
Underwater geoarchaeological excavations on the shallow shelf (~10 m depth) at Caesarea, Israel, have documented a tsunami that struck and damaged the ancient harbor at Caesarea. Talmudic sources record a tsunami that struck on 13 December A.D. 115, impacting Caesarea and Yavne. The tsunami was probably triggered by an earthquake that destroyed Antioch, and was generated somewhere on the Cyprian Arc fault system. The tsunami deposit consisted of an ~0.5-m-thick bed of reverse-graded shells, coarse sand, pebbles, and pottery deposited over a large area outside of the harbor. The lower portion of the deposit was composed of angular shell fragments, and the upper portion of whole convex-up Glycymeris spp. shells. The sequence records tsunami downcutting (~1 m) into shelf sands, with the return flow sorting and depositing angular shell fragments followed by oriented whole shells. Radiocarbon dating of articulated Glycymeris shells, and optically stimulated luminescence (OSL) dates, constrain the age of the deposit to between the first century B.C. and the second century A.D., and point to the tsunami of A.D. 115 as the most likely candidate for the event, and the probable cause of the harbor destruction.
On 13 December A.D. 115, a tsunami struck the ancient port city of Caesarea (Israel) and was recorded in the Talmud (Shalem, 1956; Amiran et al., 1994). According to the description, the wave impacted the Levantine coast with effects recorded at Caesarea and Yavne (Fig. 1). The tsunami was likely caused by a powerful earthquake that destroyed the city of Antioch (Fig 1; Ambraseys and Jackson, 1998) and originated somewhere along the eastern Cyprean Arc (Ben-Avraham et al., 1995).
Clear evidence of a paleo-tsunami is most often detected where marine allochthonous sediments are found in an otherwise terrestrial freshwater or brackish system in coastal lakes, estuaries, lagoons, etc. (e.g., Goff et al., 2001; Dawson et al., 1990; Carey et al., 2001; Minoura and Nakaya, 1991; Atwater, 1992; van den Bergh et al., 2003). The occurrence and characteristics of tsunami deposits on the shallow shelf receive little attention, as it is often perceived that the deposits have low preservation potential or would be impossible to differentiate from tempestites produced by large-scale storms or other shelf erosional processes. However, recent outcrop studies have identified evidence for preservation of tsunamites in Cambrian and Holocene shelf sequences, showing that they can be preserved in shallow shelf environments. The interpretation of these examples is hampered, however, by the lack of recent sedimentary analogs for comparison (Pratt, 2002; Fujiwara et al., 2000).
We excavated trenches to depths of up to 2.2 m at several sites outside the harbor as part of an earlier study at Caesarea (Boyce et al., 2004). At three sites (W4, W6, and W7) the trenches revealed a sequence of shelf sands containing an upper horizon of Byzantine-era ship's ballast and pottery (0.5 m thick, Unit B) and an underlying distinctive shell layer at 1–1.5 m depth. The thickness of the shell horizon varied (0.2–1 m) but could be correlated across excavation areas as a continuous horizon. The shell deposits were predominantly Glycymeris (mostly violescens), which inhabits the infralittoral zone, typically below 18 m water depth (Barash and Danin, 1992). Two sediment samples from each shell subhorizon in Area W7 (~1000 cm³, 700–800 g) were sorted by shell content, and fractional weight abundance (%) was calculated for whole unrounded Glycymeris shells, angular Glycymeris fragments, rounded whole Glycymeris shells, and other shell fragments. The whole Glycymeris shells (unrounded) were further sorted into size fractions.
In a previous study (Reinhardt and Raban, 1999) we presented evidence indicating seismic damage in the first to second centuries A.D. that severely compromised the Caesarea harbor structure. We presented evidence that seismic activity was the cause of the destruction of the harbor; although, considering the new data, some of the evidence could equally be interpreted as a result of a tsunami.
Geoarchaeological analysis of ancient harbor deposits has answered questions regarding the timing and extent of the destruction of the harbor at Caesarea Maritima built by Herod the Great on Israel's Mediterranean coast. By using stratigraphic, micropaleontological (foraminifera), and geochemical (Sr isotopes) analyses of the ancient harbor deposits we can establish a late first to early second century A.D. date for the destruction of the harbor. This destruction occurred earlier, was more rapid and widespread than previously proposed, and was probably caused by seismic activity. The new excavations also indicate that during the fourth to early sixth centuries A.D., geomorphological processes and siltation within the inner harbor allowed this area to be used in a limited capacity as a harbor.
Two thousand years ago the ancient harbor at Caesarea Maritima, on the Mediterranean coast of Israel, was a key center for maritime shipping; it is now an important submerged archaeological site. In 21 B.C., King Herod the Great, ruler of Judea, built an all-weather harbor at Caesarea (Fig. 1): the harbor structure was a unique engineering feat for its time (Holum et al., 1988). The harbor breakwaters were built out from the coastline to the open sea, using a combination of hydraulic concrete and sandstone ashlars (Brandon, 1996; Fig. 1). The construction of the harbor breakwaters rapidly transformed the smooth Israeli coastline in the area from a high-energy littoral environment to a quiet-water lagoon. The harbor was completed in 10 B.C. and was described by Josephus Flavius (a Jewish historian) in A.D. 72-75 (Holum et al., 1988).
Previous excavations conducted in 1994, both on land and underwater in areas 19, 114, and TN1 within the inner harbor, were conducted in order to determine the evolution of the harbor (Reinhardt et al., 1998a; Yule and Barham, 1999; Raban, 1996; Raban et al., 1999b; Figs. 1 and 2). However, these three sections were stratigraphically incomplete because they were missing key deposits in their basal levels. We later found these deposits in six sections excavated in 1996-1997 (SW1, SW2, SW3, TN1b, TN1c, TN2).
From our data, four temporally constrained stratal units (loci Ll—L4) representing changing environmental conditions within the harbor were recognized and are described from oldest to youngest as follows.
The first to second century A.D. basal rubble unit (L4) was found on the carbonate cemented sandstone bedrock (locally known as kurkar) and was characteristic of a high-energy water deposit (Fig. 2). The rubble was framework supported with little surrounding matrix and composed mainly of cobble-sized material, which was well rounded, heavily encrusted (e.g., bryozoans, calcareous algae), and bored (Lithophaga lithophaga, Cliona) on its upper surface. The rubble had variable lithologies including basalts, gabbros, and dolomites, all of which are absent on the Israeli coastal plain and were likely transported to the site as ship ballast (probably from Cyprus). The surrounding matrix was composed of shell material (mainly Glycymeris insubricus), pebbles, and coarse sand. The pottery sherds found in this unit were well rounded, encrusted, and dated to the first to second century A.D. The date for this unit and its sedimentological characters clearly records the existence of high-energy conditions within the inner harbor about 100–200 yr after the harbor was built. This evidence of high-energy water conditions indicates that the outer harbor breakwaters must have been severely degraded by this time to allow waves to penetrate the inner confines of the harbor (Fig. 3, A and B).
The deposits of the second to fourth centuries A.D. (L3) are represented by a well-sorted sand unit indicating continued high-energy deposition within the harbor basin (Figs. 2 and 3B). Boulders found in the sands were heavily encrusted with Ostrea edulis, suggesting that the boulders were exposed for a significant period of time in a high-energy water regime. Subsidence and destruction of the outer harbor breakwaters would have allowed the incursion of sand and its accretion in the inner harbor. The fining-upward sequence in the sand unit indicates a gradual reduction in the water energy through to the fourth century A.D. This gradual reduction in water energy was probably due to the deposition of a sand bar across the intermediate portion of the breakwater, possibly associated with the deteriorated harbor structure (Figs. 2 and 3C). Our placement of the barrier in Figure 3C represents its furthest possible extent west, because only well-sorted sand and no mud unit was found in excavations in area Q (Fig. 1). In addition, no visible anthropogenic structure, such as a seawall, was found in this portion of the harbor. It is interesting that the sudden development of a highly restricted lagoonal environment represented by the overlying muds occurred suddenly because separate bivalves (Tellina planata) and their burrows were found intact and in situ in the upper portion of the sand unit (Fig. 2).
Organic-rich muds (L2) from the section record highly restricted conditions within the harbor during the fourth to early sixth centuries A.D. (Figs. 2 and 3C). The mud unit was found in all areas of the inner harbor and is dated from the third to early sixth century A.D. (Yule and Barham, 1999; Raban, 1996; Raban et al., 1999b). The mud units contained abundant shell, botanical (i.e., olive pits, date pits) and material cultural artifacts, and many wooden timbers, including some from ship hulls (14C dates from fourth to early sixth centuries A.D.). The foraminifera, molluscs, and Sr isotopes found within this unit are indicative of normal marine to brackish waters (Fig. 2; Reinhardt et al., 1998a, 1998b; Yule and Barham, 1999). Sr isotopes analyses from sections located in the eastern portion of the inner harbor (areas 19, 114, and TN1a) revealed that the muds were deposited in brackish-water conditions. These brackish waters were created by the large influx of ground water and to a lesser extent municipal waste waters into the inner harbor (Reinhardt et al., 1998a, 1998b; Yule and Barham, 1999). The more marine conditions found in the sections from SW, TN2, and TN1c represent a salinity gradient moving seaward from the inner harbor, or salinity stratification of the water column within the inner harbor. The kurkar bedrock in areas SW and TN2 is deeper at 4.6 m below sea level than the eastern sections of the inner harbor, and this area must have been affected by the intrusion of marine waters, probably through an opening in the lagoon. The restricted lagoon conditions would have created an ideal environment for harbor activity during the Byzantine period (fourth to sixth centuries A.D.) and a channel into the inner harbor at that time may have been dredged. The water depth in the lagoon was ~2–3 m and thus could have been used by smaller craft to offload goods from the larger ships in the outer harbor (Raban, 1996). This method of moving goods from ship to shore was the standard mode of offloading cargo after the third century A.D., because there were no large-scale harbors in operation in the Mediterranean after this period in antiquity (Blackman, 1982).
The final stratigraphic unit was composed of rubble, which represents several phases of harbor activity during the seventh to thirteenth centuries A.D. (L1; Figs. 2 and 3D). The rubble in the inner harbor was of highly mixed origins, a large proportion of building stone and marble columns, along with abundant intact pottery, glass, metal fragments, wood, and animal bone. Both pottery and rubble were variably encrusted and bored, and the rubble included variable amounts of matrix, indicating that the unit was deposited rapidly. From its composition we believe it was probably artificially dumped terrestrial material. The accumulation probably occurred during the seventh century; Muslim forces captured the city (A.D. 640) and deliberately filled the harbor to prevent seaborne invasions by the well-equipped Byzantine navy (Raban, 1996). Cultural material concentrated on top of the rubble and a seawall built on top of the rubble (Crusader wall and quay) indicate that some maritime activity continued within the inner harbor until its abandonment in A.D. 1265.
The harbor sediments provided the best source of information regarding the structural integrity of the harbor and the interactions between humans and the natural environment. This combined geological–archaeological study indicates that the early and widespread destruction of the harbor was at the end of the first century A.D., and a rejuvenation of maritime activity within the inner harbor occurred in the fourth to early sixth centuries A.D.
At the very deepest spot where the airlift penetrated, beneath huge stone blocks which teetered precariously above the divers' heads, was uncovered a large wooden beam. Beneath its protective cover the divers found the only whole amphora of our dig. This proved to be a second century Roman vessel. The fact that it was found under the tumbled beam and masonry would indicate that these things were catapulted into the sea at the same time. Since there is a strong earthquake recorded in the area of Caesarea in the year A.D. 130 [JW: this refers to the Eusebius Mystery Quake - could also be the Incense Road Quake], it may possibly be that the harbor installations of Herod were destroyed at that time.
3. This object may be an amulet, the winged figure representing Horus, the Egyptian sun god who wards off lurking evils. Cf. E.A.W. Budge, Amulets and Superstitions (London, 1930) 166. A close examination of the original piece, however, leads one to conclude that it is a baling seal.
Neither Reinhardt et. al. (2006) nor
Goodman-Tchernov et. al. (2009) nor
Goodman-Tchernov and Austin (2015)
saw evidence of a tsunami in near shore shelf deposits of Caesarea around 304 CE.
Salamon et. al. (2011)
noted that a tsunami was reported in a number of earlier earthquake catalogs (e.g. Shalem, 1956,
Ben-Menahem, 1991,
Amiran et al., 1994) which
several of the cataloguers (Shalem, 1956 and Amiran et al., 1994) viewed as doubtful - according to Salamon et al (2011). The alleged tsunami was likely generated from
Eusebius' report of the sea casting up the body of the martyrdom of Apphian at the gates of Caesarea at the same time as the
[Eusebius Martyr Quake] in Sidon.
Salamon et al (2011) noted that a seismic sea wave is not specifically mentioned in Eusebius' text and it is common along the eastern Mediterranean coast,
even in normal weather conditions, that the sea casts up dead bodies of drowned people at the shore.
Raphael and Bijovsky (2014) examined "a large hoard of 3,700 copper coins" found in the excavations of what may have been a synagogue. They describe the discovery of the coin hoard as follows:
In 1962, during the excavations at Caesarea, Avi-Yonah unearthed a large hoard containing 3,700 copper-alloy coins, in a building that he identified as a synagogue. The latest coins in the hoard date to 361 CE, suggesting that the synagogue was destroyed by the 363 CE earthquake.The coins were found in Stratum IV. The original excavator (Avi-Yonah) "gave no reason for the destruction of Stratum IV." In discussing evidence for seismic destruction in Caesarea, Raphael and Bijovsky (2014) provide the following:
... The finds from the excavation were only partially published. Much of the information, such as locus numbers, is not always clear and the exact location of the hoard is not marked on a plan or described by Avi-Yonah. Nevertheless, his written descriptions clearly state that the hoard was found in the building and the strata are fairly well defined. A photograph shows Avi-Yonah in the building during the excavation kneeling next to the in situ hoard (Fig. 1).
None of the excavations revealed large scale damage in Stratum IV: "there is no evidence of wholesale destruction across the site, especially since the wall lines are still mostly intact based upon photographic record. Yet not much remains of the structure either in stratum IV or stratum V" (Govaars et al. 2009:132). After the earthquake debris was cleared, the synagogue was rebuilt. Stones from the previous synagogue were reused for the building of the stratum V synagogue, but the hoard was not found until Avi-Yonah's excavations. Govaars wrote "the direct relationship of the coin hoard to a structure is uncertain and, therefore the coin evidence cannot be used to date the still unknown structure" (Govaars et al. 2009:42). This is a somewhat peculiar statement considering the coins were found in the synagogue and are on the whole well preserved, homogeneous and well dated. Avi-Yonah was convinced that the hoard was directly related to the Stratum IV building: "The fact that a hoard of 3,700 bronze coins was found in the ruins of the synagogue itself that were buried in 355/356 AD indicates that this synagogue was built in the end of the third or the early fourth century, and was destroyed in the mid fourth century AD" (Avi-Yonah 1964:26 n. 5).1,453 coins from the hoard of coins were identifiable by mints and dates. They ranged in age from 315 CE to the first quarter of the 5th century CE. 11 of these coins ranged in age from 364 - 421 CE and post dated 363 CE. The bulk of the hoard, however, were struck between 341 and 361 CE. The authors noted that 11 of the post 363 CE coins may have been intrusive. The authors opined that the many coins from Julian II shows that the coins could not have been concealed before 355 CE ruling out the Gallus Revolt (352 CE) as a cause for the loss of the hoard.
... Evidence at Caesarea
The subject of earthquakes and tsunamis has been partially reviewed by several archaeologists who directed or participated in the excavations at Caesarea. None of the monumental buildings across the site revealed earthquake damage that dates to the fourth century CE.
The report of remains from the excavations of the Promontory Palace at Caesarea, dated between the early fourth century and early sixth centuries, does not mention destruction levels (Levine and Netzer 1986:176-184). In other excavations, the Roman and Byzantine-period warehouses and granaries (horreum) gradually fell into ruin over a considerable period. Neither the main streets, pavements, sewage and water systems, the theater, amphitheater nor the stadiums of the Late Roman and Byzantine periods show signs of destruction that suggested earthquake damage (Humphrey 1974:32; Porath 1996:114-120; Porath 2003 and Porath [pers. comm.]).
If the town was partially damaged or destroyed in the 363 CE earthquake, as the Harvard Syriac letter [i.e. the letter attributed to Cyril] describes, then other than the large coin hoard, the earthquake left no clear, tangible evidence. The damage was cleared and buildings were repaired or rebuilt. Although none of the archaeological reports mentions earthquake damage, several reports clearly describe the abandonment and/or the rebuilding of public buildings in the second half of the fourth century CE. None of the authors provided a reason for their destruction or abandonment.
Tectonic evidence such as collapsed columns, thick piles of debris or warped walls are elusive throughout the fourth century architecture of Caesarea. Why is this typical earthquake damage missing? Are the written sources and the numismatic evidence sufficient proof of the 363 CE earthquake in Caesarea? It is important to note that among the various violent, politically motivated upheavals that took place in the second half of the fourth century, one of the main candidates explaining destruction at archaeological sites is the Gallus Revolt (352 CE). However, none of the sources that describe this revolt mention Caesarea Maritima (Geller-Nathanson 1986:34)
According to Raban et al. (1993 v. I:64), Vault 2 in Area CV collapsed
suddenly, crushing pottery vessels that had been resting on the floors. The destruction was dated to the mid-7th century CE, with
researchers attributing the collapse to seismic activity. This dating was based on ceramics and coins, the most recent of which
belonged to the reign of Heraclius [r. 610-641 CE].
Two possible earthquake events were suggested as causes: the
~634 CE Sword in the Sky Quake and the
659/660 CE Jordan Valley Quake(s). Raban et al. (1993 v. I:64)
reported that Vault 2 was a two-story structure that collapsed downward, with its arcade falling downward and westward.
Additionally, evidence suggested that the second-story floor had flipped over during the event.
From 1971 through its final field season in 1987, the Joint Expedition to Caesarea Maritima (JECM) concentrated much of its research effort on its Field C, a Roman and Byzantine-Period insula (city block) located south of the Crusader City and adjacent to the Mediterranean Sea. One area of intense study in this insula was its western extremity, where a series of storage vaults (horrea) were uncovered that in turn served as the substructure for a U-shaped public building above.29 Of these vaults, Vault 1 was the best preserved, and it was excavated during the 1973 and 1974 field seasons (Blakely 1987).
28. With some editing by K. Holum.
29. On these excavations in general see Bull et al. 1986: 31-38, and Bull et al. 1990: 7. A plan
of the U-shaped building has appeared in Spiro, 1992: 260, fig. 21.
30. As interpreted by Blakely and H. Katherine Sheeler.
Excavation in Area CV during 1992 should be viewed primarily as preparatory work. A limited amount of evidence relating to pre-Byzantine Caesarea was recovered. These remains should raise the expectation of significant finds (e.g., roads, shops, or a sea wall) between the vaults and the modern coast. The data recovered from Byzantine contexts, especially Late Byzantine, suggest that an arcade or row of store fronts was constructed along the western face of the vaults. If Walls 1045 and 10013 are indeed the same wall, then a large-scale planned construction of an arcade or store fronts in the mid-Byzantine period appears likely. These appear to have continued in existence until the collapse of this part of the site, probably in the mid-7th century. By the 7th century the CV/1 and 2 vault-front structure was a roofed two-story building with a tesselated floor on the second story. Collapse of this structure appears to have been sudden in the mid-7th century, possibly relating to one of two earthquakes, 633 or 659. A second unifying feature of the vault front area is a late 6th century drain pipe which appear to run almost the length of the block, from where JECM excavated it in the mid 1970s southward through Trench CV/10.
Just to the west of Trench CV/10, a geologic probe was excavated through the modern parking lot down to MSL. The trench was actually two intersecting 3 x 5 m. bulldozer cuts positioned at right angles. The goal in these probes was to establish the limits of stratified structural remains and to locate a Roman or Byzantine sea wall, if one was present.
Fig. 1
Fig. 1At Caesarea, the best evidence of destruction attributable to the 749 earthquake comes from Area TPS, on the S side of the Temple Platform, where a thick layer of debris marks the end of the Umayyad occupation of the Late Byzantine bath complex, which was subsequently mulled and built over in the later 8th century - see Raban and Yankelevitz (2008:81) and Arnon (2008:85). Another probable effect of the earthquake was the collapse of the octagonal church on the platform - see Holum et al (2008:30-31).
Fig. 1
Fig. 1lush terraced gardensirrigated by wells and cisterns ( Dey et al, 2014). Marine layers found on top of these gardens included Glycymeris, a non-edible deeper water bivalve. Atop the marine layer was, in some areas, a burial ground with a funerary inscription providing a terminus ante quem of 870 CE. A terminus post quem of c. 500 came from a
reflecting poolfronting the Temple platform and overlain by the marine layer. Dey et al (2014) suggest that the most likely explanation for the transformation from gardens to burial ground was an intervening episode of tsunamogenic destruction. They discussed the potential landward tsunamogenic deposit as follows:
The most substantial strata attributable to a marine inundation of mid-8th-c. date appeared in the SW sector, along the coastal strip south of the Crusader fortifications. Extensive tracts of these deposits between the temple platform and the theater, a shore-parallel distance of nearly 800 m, were uncovered (and removed, usually mechanically) in the 1970s and early 1980s under the auspices of the Joint Expedition (JECM). The bulk of the deposits lay in a shallow depression situated c.10 m above mean sea-level (MSL) and separated from the sea by a low ridge 15 m above MSL. From the landward side of the ridge, beginning c.50 m from the shore, these marine layers stretched inland as far as 300 m from the sea. 14 They comprised two distinct, superimposed sequences, each consisting of a thick, lower layer of densely-bedded (and in some cases imbricated) shells, rubble and sherds up to 1.5 m thick, topped by a dark, silty layer 20-40 cm thick. Datable materials in the second, upper sequence placed its formation around the 14th c. 15 In the lower sequence, dated by the excavators approximately to the 8th c. on the basis of finds, numerous disarticulated human remains turned up, as well as at least one complete skeleton in Area C, interbedded with the surrounding strata of shells and silt. 16 Like the rest of the materials, this corpse was probably deposited by a (cataclysmic) natural event. As D. Neev and K. Emery indicated in their report, there were no signs of a man-made grave, and the surrounding horizontal strata were uninterrupted above and below the skeleton; such 'culturally non-appropriate burials' are now recognized as a typical feature of tsunami deposits.17 The most likely scenario would have corpses deposited by the retreating waters of the tsunami and immediately covered with more detritus, keeping the articulated skeleton undisturbed by scavenging animals or human intervention.
Figure 1D
Figure 1E
Figure 3
Figure 8
Figure 3
Figure 2B
Figure 2C
Figure 5
Figure 8
Figure 1D
Figure 1E
Figure 3
Figure 8
Figure 3which was in use from the Herodian period to the Umayyad period. A storage structure (aka "the warehouse") was identified in the western part of the site which appears to have been constructed in Herodian times and remained in use, as it underwent changes, until the middle of the Umayyad period (~700 CE). After the Islamic conquest of Caesarea (640 CE),
rooms were partitioned, floors were raised, construction was added and some of the openings were sealed.Ceramics indicate that the site was abandoned at the end of the 7th century CE after which it suffered two major destruction events before re-occupation occurred in the mid 8th century CE in what was interpreted as Abbasid Strata V (the Abbasid Caliphate began ruling in 750 CE). During the renewed Abbasid occupation, destruction debris were preserved
as the builders preferred to level the area and build above the destruction layer(s).The destruction events within Stratum VI (Umayyad) appear to be an earthquake and a tsunami; both likely a result of the the Holy Desert Quake of the Sabbatical Year Quake sequence.
several ceilings collapsed inward, and there was evidence of a fire in the eastern warehouse.1 In the collapse in the corridor, the
original order of the courses of the wall or vault could be clearly identified (Fig. 8)adding confidence to a seismic interpretation. During the subsequent tsunami event,
a layer of sand and collapsed building stones had accumulated to a height of more than 2 m in Rooms 8–11 in the western warehouse and to a height of 1.5 m in Rooms 12–14 and the corridor of the eastern warehouse.Everhardt et. al. (2023) further examined the destruction deposits by taking cores and radiocarbon samples as well as examining burn evidence and a baulk inside the collapsed corridor.
from the top 3 cm of sediment in the Umayyad archaeological fill and one untreated sample of various organic material (~20 mg) from the top 5 cm of the same layer in core C1, as close as possible to the contact with the lower anomalous deposit, were collected for radiocarbon dating.Everhardt et. al. (2023:14-15) report that
radiocarbon dates of charcoal and organic material from the upper contact of the Umayyad archaeological deposit (Unit C) range from 605 to 779 CE2 which is in agreement with the phasing of Ad et al (2018) and compatible with destruction layers that were deposited in 749 CE.
| Unit | Alias | Description | Interpretation |
|---|---|---|---|
| A | ‘anomalous’ deposit | clean, loose quartz sand with no sedimentary structures or cultural artifacts. |
tsunami deposit |
| B | same sediment as Unit A but with additions of several marine-encrusted potsherds and reddened, partially heat-fused sand clusters. |
earthquake and fire debris mixed with a tsunami deposit | |
| C | 'Umayyad archaeological fill' | a dark gray/brown (10YR 6/2), organic-rich layer with many cultural artifacts, including potsherds, glass shards, shells, beach pebbles, charcoal, and bone fragments. |
Post abandonment deposition from the latter half of the Umayyad period - typical of an ancient garbage dump |
| D | compact earthen floor |
Umayyad or earlier floor |
reddened, partially heat-fused sand clusterswere
in agreement with the presence of reddened in-situ building blocks along the intact eastern wall of the room (and elsewhere along the walls)which indicated that a fire took place before the tsunami struck. They also noted an
abundance of charcoal found in the upper Umayyad archaeological fill.They viewed the presence of marine-encrusted potsherds as an indicator that
these inclusions were previously submerged in the marine system long enough for the encrustation to take place, suggesting that they were transported from the sea to land at the time of the eventwhich in turn could
indicate that the tsunami water and deposits extinguishedthe fire.
1 Everhardt et. al. (2023:5) reports that fire-reddened walls (see inset of Figure 2C) were found at
the same level as the destruction layer(s).
2 Everhardt et. al. (2023:14-15) described the radiocarbon samples as follows:
A single piece of charcoal from the surface of the Umayyad archaeological fill (Unit C) in core C1 has been radiocarbon dated with 95.4% probability to 649–687 cal CE (73.5%) or 743–773 cal CE (22.0%), consistent with the archaeological finds. A second radiocarbon age was measured on a mix of small organic materials from the same layer as the previous charcoal sample, with a result of 605–665 cal CE (95.4% probability).
Everhardt et. al. (2023), while citing
citing Holum et. al. (2008)
reported that isolated reports describe single-column-fall damage or other structural failures
in Caesarea due to the Holy Desert Quake of
the Sabbatical Year sequence.
Modern observations have shown that harbors are especially vulnerable to the effects of tsunamis, both due to their position on the coastline and the tendency for tsunamigenic eddy production within enclosed harbor basins. Presumably, this was as much the case in the past as in the present. The Roman-era mega-harbor Caesarea Maritima, which is today submerged in some parts up to 5 m below sea level, is an ideal research site for understanding these impacts. Over the past three decades, archeologists, geologists and historians have searched for the cause of the rapid demise of this harbor, turning to explanations ranging from offshore faults, seismic disturbances, general failure and deterioration, to liquefaction and settling on unconsolidated sands. While tsunamis are recorded repeatedly in the Eastern Mediterranean historical record, it has only been in the past decade that physical evidence directly attributed to tsunamigenic sediments along the Israeli coastline near Caesarea has been documented. To date, deposits from at least three tsunami events that impacted the harbor have been identified in sediment cores, coastal exposures and archeological trenches, but no laterally continuous picture has been produced. In this study, using a dense offshore survey produced by a high-resolution subbottom profiler, shallowly buried sediment horizons offshore of Caesarea produce distinctive reflectors that correlate with the tsunamigenic stratigraphic sequence identified in cores and excavations. These surface structure maps allow for a laterally extensive reconstruction of these distinctive deposits. The results have led to the following conclusions and interpretations:
Coastal morphology, including adjacent landforms, artificial structures, and coastal-fringing natural features (i.e., extensive coral reefs, mangroves, e.g., Baird et al., 2005; Fernando et al., 2005; Kunkel et al., 2006; Giri et al., 2008) can all influence the impact of tsunami wave flow (Hon et al., 2007; Sugawara et al., 2012). As the inundating wave breaches the coastline, natural and man-made obstacles that obstruct or impede the wave’s force can lead to channeling and variable flow, both as the wave advances inland and retreats seawards. Such energy redistribution is also evident in affected rivers or artificial channels, in which tsunami flow will continue inland to distances far exceeding that of uninterrupted portions of the coastline (e.g., Crete 1956, Bruins et al., 2008; Okal et al., 2009; northern Japan 2011, Mori et al., 2011; Goto, 2011a; Chile 2010, Fritz et al., 2011). The tsunami return/outflow is even more influenced by the presence of structures, and therefore is typically characterized by channeling (Umitsu et al., 2007; Feldens et al., 2009), which can result in shore-perpendicular bathymetric and topographic features (Atwater et al., 2010). In Sumatra following the 2004 tsunami, evidence of such complex back-flow included filled channels, boulders moved into deeper water, movement of sand into previously silty areas, and man-made rubble immediately seaward of the shoreline (Feldens et al., 2009; Goto, 2011b). Similarly, in northern Japan following the Tohoku-Oki earthquake in 2011, canals and road features often corresponded with variations in tsunami inundation heights along the Sendai Plain.
When King Herod had the city of Caesarea built on the coastline of what is now Israel between 25 BCE and 9/10 BCE, he applied Roman city planning, organization and building techniques, including the costly installation of a state-of-the-art, artificial mega-harbor (Holum et al., 1988; Hohlfelder, 1988, 1996; Raban, 2009; Votruba, 2007; Raban, 2008; Fig. 1). The natural environment afforded little protection or anchorage, with the exception of periodic, remnant, exposed ridges of eolianite sandstone (locally referred to as ‘kurkar’) roughly paralleling the coastline immediately offshore. These bedrock structures are exposed and eroded lithified dunes 135,000–45,000 years old (Sivan and Porat, 2004). The harbor was constructed on portions of this bedrock and extended seaward onto unconsolidated Nile River–derived sands (Goldsmith and Golik, 1980; Neev et al., 1987; Stanley, 1989; Zviely et al., 2007), with the use of man-made foundations. Roman engineers succeeded in this task by building wooden frameworks (‘caissons’) on land, then towing them into position where they were submerged, filling them with hydraulic cement, and ultimately finishing them with above-water superstructures. Fields of large cobbles (less than 20 cm diameter) were emplaced beneath the caissons (Raban, 2008), presumably to give them added stability against erosion and undermining, suggesting that the engineers of the time were aware of the inherent risks for constructing directly on unconsolidated sandy sediments. These caissons were arranged in rows to produce the spinal walls of the harbor, completing the entire project in less than 15 years (Brandon, 1996). This efficient approach to harbor construction continues to be used today. For example, ‘Mulberry I’ and “Mulberry II”, created by the allies during WWII in preparation for the D-Day landings, were also artificial islands constructed in a similar manner for the purpose of providing supplies and reinforcements until an established harbor could be secured (Stanford, 1951; Ryan, 1959; Bettwy, 2015).
Generally speaking, the near offshore environment has not been heavily mined for tsunami evidence. While tsunami-related studies have increased exponentially in the past decade, there are far fewer studies that present shallow offshore finds. In their summary of the state of research in paleotsunami deposits Rhodes et al. (2006) asked, “Does a record of paleotsunamis exist in the near offshore stratigraphic record?”. By that time, Vandenbergh et al. (2003) had demonstrated the presence of shallow offshore deposits using both geophysical survey and coring in NW Java, Indonesia and Abrantes et al. (2005) described events correlatable to sediment core horizons in Lisbon, Portugal. Since then, a few studies of past and recent tsunami events and modeling have answered Rhodes' question in the affirmative as well. Some examples beyond the work in Caesarea (Reinhardt et al., 2006; Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009, Dey and Goodman 2010, Dey et al. 2014) include cores collected from Augusta Bay, Italy (de Martini et al., 2010; Smedile et al., 2012), offshore boulders mapped in western Banda Aceh, Indonesia (Paris et al., 2009), Weiss and Bahlburg's (2006) modeling predictions suggesting the presence of deposits in the shallow offshore. The near offshore environment is still more poorly understood relative to terrestrial coastal areas.
The interpretation of three sub-seafloor reflectors mapped offshore of Caesarea (Fig. 3) conclude with the presence of distinctive and unique coastal structural configurations at the time of past tsunami events. The mapping suggests regionally significant impedance contrasts, that were interpreted here as marking the last/uppermost expression of known tsunami deposits previously sampled, analyzed and interpreted on this margin (Fig. 4). In all cases, we assume, and this is supported by modern studies elsewhere (Paris et al., 2009), that immediately following any tsunami, complex processes of alteration and erosion occur, particularly in depths exposed to storm activity and other coastal processes (e.g., long shore transport). In this part of the Mediterranean, these tsunami deposits, or what part of them is preserved after exposure to later storm and long-shore transport effects, are buried under Nile River–derived sands. Therefore, we suspect that the reflector maps of the two subsurface reflectors (Fig. 6B, C) does not give a reading of what the sea bottom looked like immediately following the tsunami, but at the time of the tsunamite’s eventual burial, which could be a matter of decades or more. Therefore, the apparent drainage features we observe are probably only preserved remnants of tsunami backwash features which, at the time of their formation, would have been even more distinctive and pronounced, as is true in modern analogues (Bahlburg and Spiske, 2012; Feldens et al., 2009; Hori et al., 2007; Paris et al., 2009). Each event has a unique signature that relates to the state of the coastline and the structures present at that time.
The results of the high-resolution seismic survey of Caesarea support previous studies that have argued for the presence of laterally extensive tsunamigenic deposits in and around that ancient harbor complex. Santorini-age tsunami deposits are present, but not everywhere identifiable. The earlier interpretation that the ancient harbor of Caesarea was relatively intact at the time of the first historically documented tsunami that would have impacted it, ~1–2nd century, possibly 115 CE, is supported by the presence of pronounced (backwash) channels in association with the entrance to the ancient harbor. In contrast, the harbor's appearance was much degraded by the time of a known 8th century tsunami (749 CE), which is emphasized by the presence of a series of preserved remnant channels, testifying to multiple backwash paths. These preserved paleo-bathymetric features could be recognized at other archaeological sites and may provide a new preserved indicator for ancient tsunamis, further reinforcing the usefulness of the offshore record, particularly relative to the relatively quickly altered and erased terrestrial record (Szczuciński, 2011).
A sedimentary deposit on the continental shelf off Caesarea Maritima, Israel, is identified, dated, and attributed to tsunami waves produced during the Late Bronze Age (ca. 1630–1550 B.C.E.) eruption of Santorini, Greece. The sheet-like deposit was found as a layer as much as 40 cm thick in four cores collected from 10 to 20 m water depths. Particle-size distribution, planar bedding, shell taphocoenosis, dating (radiocarbon, optically stimulated luminescence, and pottery), and comparison of the horizon to more recent tsunamigenic layers distinguish it from normal storm and typical marine conditions across a wide (>1 km²) lateral area. The presence of this deposit is evidence that tsunami waves from the Santorini eruption radiated throughout the Eastern Mediterranean Sea, affecting the coastal people living there. Dates for the tsunami deposit bracket both the so-called “high” and “low” chronology for the Santorini eruption. In addition to resolving the question of the extent of tsunami impact from the Santorini eruption, the research presented also provides a new means of discovering, identifying, and studying continuous records of paleotsunami deposits in the upper shelf coastal environment. The latter is key to understanding past events, better interpreting sedimentological records, and creating stronger models for understanding tsunami propagation, coastal management, and hazard preparation worldwide.
The Plinian eruption of Santorini (Thera, ca. 1630–1550 B.C.E.; Friedrich et al., 2006; Manning et al., 2006), Greece, in the Late Bronze Age, at an estimated 7.1 on the Volcanic Explosivity Index (McCoy et al., 2000), was one of the largest eruptions in human antiquity (Friedrich et al., 2006; Manning et al., 2006; McCoy and Heiken, 2000; Sigurdsson et al., 2006). The extent to which the eruption precipitated tsunami waves has long been debated, as has the question of the range and magnitude attained by such waves (Yokoyama, 1978).
Four sediment cores were collected (Fig. DR1 in the GSA Data Repository1) and one area (area W) was re-excavated with dredges in the sandy upper shoreface (~15 to 20 m below msl) offshore of Caesarea (Fig. 1B), in order to
A minimum of one and a maximum of three tsunamigenic horizons were identified in each of the cores (Figs. 2 and 3; Figs. DR2–DR6). Event 1, ca. 1.5 ka ago, corresponds chronologically with a historically documented event of 551 C.E. [JW: Later work suggested this deposit was from a mid-8th century CE tsunami and if 551 CE tsunamigenic deposits were present, they were reworked by the mid-8th century CE event] (Amiran et al., 1994; Mart and Perecman, 1996; Salamon et al., 2007); it is well represented across all of the cores and trenches, and is also present in the findings of previous archaeological excavations (Raban, 2008; Reinhardt and Raban, 2008, 1999; Reinhardt et al., 2006, 1994, 1998), where this horizon was interpreted solely as isolated deposits of jettisoned archaeological materials, or a storm layer (Boyce et al., 2009; Reinhardt et al., 2006). The new results complement the previous interpretation that onloading and offloading of goods occurred outside of the harbor (Boyce et al., 2009), particularly in the light of possible tsunami-related damage to the harbor. Tsunamite indicators of event 2, ca. 2 ka ago, which correspond with an historical event of 115 C.E. (Amiran et al., 1994; Kortekaas and Dawson, 2007; Mart and Perecman, 1996), are visible in all of the cores. Event 3, OSL and radiocarbon dated to 3630–3410 cal (calibrated) yr B.P., and thus to the period of the Santorini eruption, was identified in cores 1–4. The Santorini-age event differs from the more recent events in the amount of archaeologically related materials in the deposits (Fig. 3B). During events 1 and 2, Caesarea was already built, and therefore the horizon is rich with related anthropogenic debris from the well-populated port city, whereas no major city is known to have existed at that site during event 3 (Late Bronze Age). Therefore, many of the tsunamigenic indicators present during events 1 and 2 are irrelevant for event 3.
Tsunami horizons coincident with the Santorini eruption were identified from upper shelf submerged sediment cores in the Eastern Mediterranean offshore from Caesarea, Israel, based on the correlation of well-dated horizons with tsunamigenic indicators. The continental shelf contains a wealth of undisturbed deposits to better inform and complete the paleotsunami record worldwide, particularly for the many areas where shelf bathymetry similar to that of the Eastern Mediterranean exists. These findings constitute the most comprehensive evidence to date that the tsunami event precipitated by the eruption of Santorini reached the maximum extent of the Eastern Mediterranean.
| Effect | Location | Image(s) | Description |
|---|---|---|---|
|
Caesarea |
|
| Effect | Location | Image(s) | Description |
|---|---|---|---|
|
Caesarea |
|
| Effect | Location | Image(s) | Description |
|---|---|---|---|
|
Coastal Palestine |
|
| Effect | Location | Image(s) | Description |
|---|---|---|---|
| Liquefaction and Subsidence | outer harbor breakwater
Figure 4The Roman, Herodian harbor of Caesarea left panel—aerial photo right panel—artist reconstruction [43]
Galili et al (2021)
Fig. 1Caesarea harbor, overview (adapted from Boyce et al 2009) Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010)
Figure 1View of ancient harbor area showing rubble spill of ancient break-waters, probable configuration of Herod's harbor, fault lines extending through harbor, and excavation areas. JW: Area K is top left Reinhardt and Raban (1998) |
Figure 2Stratigraphic sections from excavation areas from intermediate and inner harbor (see Fig. 1 for locations). For biofacies characters and 87Sr/86Sr data, see Table 1. Stratigraphic, foraminiferal, and 87Sr/86Sr data from TN1a, I14, and I9 were reported by Reinhardt et al. (1998a), Yule and Barham (1999a, 1999b), and Raban et al. (1999b). 14C samples were measured at Weizmann Institute of Science, Israel (sample numbers RT2585, RT2631, and RT2650-RT2654) and calibrated to calendar ages using method of Stuiver and Reimer (1993). Reinhardt and Raban (1998)
Figure 3Figure 3. A–D: Possible harbor configurations through time based on stratigraphy from intermediate and inner harbor. C is also based upon earlier archaeological excavations from within inner harbor described by Raban (1996). Reinhardt and Raban (1998) |
Description
|
| Tsunami | Offshore Caesarea
Fig. 1Caesarea harbor, overview (adapted from Boyce et al 2009) Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010)
Fig. 3Location of sediment cores extracted in 2005 and 2007 Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010) |
Fig. 4Dip and strike CHIRP profiles (see Fig. 3), from which sample segments “a” and “b” have been enlarged for comparison with previously identified sediment core and underwater excavation stratigraphic compilations within the surveyed area (Reinhardt et al., 2006; Reinhardt and Raban, 2008; Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009). Three horizons, representing four tsunami events, are recognizable from the available core evidence within the surveyed area (for core locations, see Fig. 1C). Goodman-Tchernov and Austin (2015)
Fig. 4Summary of tsunamigenic characteristics identified in cores and excavations from the shore ('NS') and terrestrial area (`T') to greater depths JW: Later publications redated Byzantine 551 A.D. to 749 .A.D. with possible reworked 551 A.D. deposits. If Roman 115 A.D. deposit is tsunamogenic, it was more likely caused by the early 2nd century Incense Road Earthquake rather than the distant 115 A.D. Trajan Quake Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010) |
Description
|
| Tsunami | Harbor
Figure 4The Roman, Herodian harbor of Caesarea left panel—aerial photo right panel—artist reconstruction [43]
Galili et al (2021)
Fig. 1Caesarea harbor, overview (adapted from Boyce et al 2009) Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010)
Figure 1View of ancient harbor area showing rubble spill of ancient break-waters, probable configuration of Herod's harbor, fault lines extending through harbor, and excavation areas. JW: Area K is top left Reinhardt and Raban (1998) |
Figure 2Stratigraphic sections from excavation areas from intermediate and inner harbor (see Fig. 1 for locations). For biofacies characters and 87Sr/86Sr data, see Table 1. Stratigraphic, foraminiferal, and 87Sr/86Sr data from TN1a, I14, and I9 were reported by Reinhardt et al. (1998a), Yule and Barham (1999a, 1999b), and Raban et al. (1999b). 14C samples were measured at Weizmann Institute of Science, Israel (sample numbers RT2585, RT2631, and RT2650-RT2654) and calibrated to calendar ages using method of Stuiver and Reimer (1993). Reinhardt and Raban (1998)
Fig. 4Dip and strike CHIRP profiles (see Fig. 3), from which sample segments “a” and “b” have been enlarged for comparison with previously identified sediment core and underwater excavation stratigraphic compilations within the surveyed area (Reinhardt et al., 2006; Reinhardt and Raban, 2008; Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009). Three horizons, representing four tsunami events, are recognizable from the available core evidence within the surveyed area (for core locations, see Fig. 1C). Goodman-Tchernov and Austin (2015) |
Description
|
| Fallen port architecture | harbor
Figure 4The Roman, Herodian harbor of Caesarea left panel—aerial photo right panel—artist reconstruction [43]
Galili et al (2021)
Fig. 1Caesarea harbor, overview (adapted from Boyce et al 2009) Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010)
Figure 1View of ancient harbor area showing rubble spill of ancient break-waters, probable configuration of Herod's harbor, fault lines extending through harbor, and excavation areas. JW: Area K is top left Reinhardt and Raban (1998) |
Description
|
| Effect | Location | Image(s) | Description |
|---|---|---|---|
|
Synagogue in Field O |
|
|
| Effect | Location | Image(s) | Description |
|---|---|---|---|
|
Vault 2 in Area CV
Figure 130Area CV block plan William Isenberger drawing Raban et al. (1993 v. II)
Figure 129Area CV (foreground), looking east across JECM Field C. Vaults 1 and 2 lie beneath remains of U-shaped building and soil deposits in center. At upper left, JECM Areas C.7, C.8, and C.ll with exposed sub-flooring of U-shaped building. Foreground, CV/1 and CV/2 with pavement CV/1047. CV/10 lies to the right (south). Zaraza Friedman photo. Raban et al. (1993 v. II) |
Figure 133Area CV/2, structural collapse from Vault 2, looking west. Ceramics crushed by falling masonry (L2017) Lisa Helfert photo Raban et al. (1993 v. II)
Figure 132Area CV/1, south balk. Five phases are visible:
Lisa Helfert photo. Raban et al. (1993 v. II) |
|
| Effect | Location | Image(s) | Description | ||||||||||||||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Tsunami | Offshore Caesarea and Jisr al-Zikra
Fig. 1Topographic map of the study area, depicting the Crocodile River position, aqueducts, dams, and Carmel Ridge in central Israel (adapted from Reinhardt et al., 2003) Location map of sediment cores offshore Caesarea and Jisr al-Zarka: 1–3, 5, 6 (marked as black hexagons) and Area W underwater excavation (marked as a black square), isobaths are in meters. A surface sample from −50 m below sea level was also collected and is indicated by the * within the upper left inset. Tyuleneva et al (2017)
Fig. 3Location of sediment cores extracted in 2005 and 2007 Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010) |
Fig. 8Stratigraphic correlation of the core 6 offshore Jisr al-Zarka with representative core 2 (see Fig. 1) from Caesarea (adapted from Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009). Sea level data are according to Sivan et al. (2001, 2004). Tyuleneva et al (2017)
Fig. 4Dip and strike CHIRP profiles (see Fig. 3), from which sample segments “a” and “b” have been enlarged for comparison with previously identified sediment core and underwater excavation stratigraphic compilations within the surveyed area (Reinhardt et al., 2006; Reinhardt and Raban, 2008; Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009). Three horizons, representing four tsunami events, are recognizable from the available core evidence within the surveyed area (for core locations, see Fig. 1C). Goodman-Tchernov and Austin (2015)
Fig. 4Summary of tsunamigenic characteristics identified in cores and excavations from the shore ('NS') and terrestrial area (`T') to greater depths JW: Later publications redated Byzantine 551 A.D. to 749 .A.D. with possible reworked 551 A.D. deposits. If Roman 115 A.D. deposit is tsunamogenic, it was more likely caused by the early 2nd century Incense Road Earthquake rather than the distant 115 A.D. Trajan Quake Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010) |
Description
|
||||||||||||||||||||
| Tsunami | Harbor
Figure 4The Roman, Herodian harbor of Caesarea left panel—aerial photo right panel—artist reconstruction [43]
Galili et al (2021)
Fig. 1Caesarea harbor, overview (adapted from Boyce et al 2009) Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010)
Figure 1View of ancient harbor area showing rubble spill of ancient break-waters, probable configuration of Herod's harbor, fault lines extending through harbor, and excavation areas. JW: Area K is top left Reinhardt and Raban (1998) |
Figure 2Stratigraphic sections from excavation areas from intermediate and inner harbor (see Fig. 1 for locations). For biofacies characters and 87Sr/86Sr data, see Table 1. Stratigraphic, foraminiferal, and 87Sr/86Sr data from TN1a, I14, and I9 were reported by Reinhardt et al. (1998a), Yule and Barham (1999a, 1999b), and Raban et al. (1999b). 14C samples were measured at Weizmann Institute of Science, Israel (sample numbers RT2585, RT2631, and RT2650-RT2654) and calibrated to calendar ages using method of Stuiver and Reimer (1993). Reinhardt and Raban (1998)
Fig. 4Dip and strike CHIRP profiles (see Fig. 3), from which sample segments “a” and “b” have been enlarged for comparison with previously identified sediment core and underwater excavation stratigraphic compilations within the surveyed area (Reinhardt et al., 2006; Reinhardt and Raban, 2008; Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009). Three horizons, representing four tsunami events, are recognizable from the available core evidence within the surveyed area (for core locations, see Fig. 1C). Goodman-Tchernov and Austin (2015) |
Description
|
||||||||||||||||||||
| Collapsed Vault or Walls, Tsunami, and a Fire | Area LL
Figure 1DAerial view of the archaeological site and southern part of the Upper aqueduct, where reference samples were collected. All colored dots are linked to locations where samples were taken [as references for non tsunamogenic deposits]. Everhardt et. al. (2023)
Figure 1EAerial view of Area LL, bordering the northern side of the inner harbor basin.
Everhardt et. al. (2023)
Figure 3Plan Ad et al (2018) |
Fig. 8 (Ad)
Figure 8Wall Collapse looking west Ad et al (2018) Fig. 3
Figure 3Cores C1 and C2 (left) and Southern Baulk section (right) Everhardt et. al. (2023) Fig. 2B
Figure 2BAnomalous layer (the top of which touched the Abbasid floor above) Everhardt et. al. (2023) Fig. 2C
Figure 2CUmayyad archaeological fill directly underlying the anomalous deposit. Inset shows fire-burnt stones in the eastern wall of the corridor, at the same level as the top of the Umayyad archaeological fill. Everhardt et. al. (2023) Fig. 4
Core LL16 C1 results.
Everhardt et. al. (2023) Fig. 5
Figure 5'LL Southern Baulk’ Results.
Everhardt et. al. (2023) Fig. 8 (Everhardt)
Figure 8Tsunami corridor. Based on the damage to the southern and southwestern walls and orientation of the collapsed building stones, the dominant destruction came from the southern harbor facing side of the corridor. Everhardt et. al. (2023) |
Description
Site LL is located just north of Caesarea's inner harbour. Ad et al (2018) excavated
the site
reddened, partially heat-fused sand clusterswere in agreement with the presence of reddened in-situ building blocks along the intact eastern wall of the room (and elsewhere along the walls)which indicated that a fire took place before the tsunami struck. They also noted an abundance of charcoal found in the upper Umayyad archaeological fill.They viewed the presence of marine-encrusted potsherds as an indicator that these inclusions were previously submerged in the marine system long enough for the encrustation to take place, suggesting that they were transported from the sea to land at the time of the eventwhich in turn could indicate that the tsunami water and deposits extinguishedthe fire. Everhardt et. al. (2023) proposed that the lower southern baulk was also a tsunamogenic deposit related to 'anomalous" deposit Unit A in the cores. Beverly Goodman-Tchernov (personal communication, 2023) suggests that the earthquake did not leave a directional signature of damage and collapse largely because site LL experienced liquefaction during this earthquake but the impact of the tsunami did leave a directional signature as shown in Fig. 8 (Everhardt)
Footnotes
1 Everhardt et. al. (2023:5) reports that fire-reddened walls (see inset of Figure 2C) were found at
the same level as the destruction layer(s). A single piece of charcoal from the surface of the Umayyad archaeological fill (Unit C) in core C1 has been radiocarbon dated with 95.4% probability to 649–687 cal CE (73.5%) or 743–773 cal CE (22.0%), consistent with the archaeological finds. A second radiocarbon age was measured on a mix of small organic materials from the same layer as the previous charcoal sample, with a result of 605–665 cal CE (95.4% probability). |
||||||||||||||||||||
| Tsunami deposit ? | Terraced Gardens
Figure 6Aerial photo of the Caesarea coast
Table 1 [41,43] Galili et al (2021)
Fig. 1Late antique/early Islamic Caesarea, with principal sites and excavation areas mentioned in the text. Dey et al(2014) |
Fig. 14A deposit of broken pottery in the Roman circus (up to 3 m thick):
Galili et al (2021)
Sign from the park at Caesarea explaining the "Archaeological Deposit". Deposits are described as Late Roman and
Early Byzantine deposited in the 3rd and 4th centuries CE. Dating is presumed to be derived from pottery and stratigraphy.Click on Image to open a higher resolution and slightly magnifiable image in a new tab Photo by Jefferson Williams - 20 April 2023 |
Description
|
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| Collapse and debris | Area TPS, on the S side of the Temple Platform and the octagonal church on the platform
Figure 1Roman and Crusader Caesarea, map of the excavations and the current excavation (sourced from ESI 17:38).. JW: Excavations were in Areas D and E marked in red on the map Ad et al (2017)
Area TP: plan showing foundations of the octagonal church.Stern et. al. (2008) |
Description
|
Earthquake Archeological Effects (EAE)| Effect | Location | Image(s) | Description | Intensity |
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Caesarea |
|
|
Earthquake Archeological Effects (EAE)| Effect | Location | Image(s) | Description | Intensity |
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Caesarea |
|
|
Earthquake Archeological Effects (EAE)| Effect | Location | Image(s) | Description | Intensity |
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Coastal Palestine |
|
|
Earthquake Archeological Effects (EAE)| Effect | Location | Image(s) | Description | Intensity |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Liquefaction and Subsidence | outer harbor breakwater
Figure 4The Roman, Herodian harbor of Caesarea left panel—aerial photo right panel—artist reconstruction [43]
Galili et al (2021)
Fig. 1Caesarea harbor, overview (adapted from Boyce et al 2009) Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010)
Figure 1View of ancient harbor area showing rubble spill of ancient break-waters, probable configuration of Herod's harbor, fault lines extending through harbor, and excavation areas. JW: Area K is top left Reinhardt and Raban (1998) |
Figure 2Stratigraphic sections from excavation areas from intermediate and inner harbor (see Fig. 1 for locations). For biofacies characters and 87Sr/86Sr data, see Table 1. Stratigraphic, foraminiferal, and 87Sr/86Sr data from TN1a, I14, and I9 were reported by Reinhardt et al. (1998a), Yule and Barham (1999a, 1999b), and Raban et al. (1999b). 14C samples were measured at Weizmann Institute of Science, Israel (sample numbers RT2585, RT2631, and RT2650-RT2654) and calibrated to calendar ages using method of Stuiver and Reimer (1993). Reinhardt and Raban (1998)
Figure 3Figure 3. A–D: Possible harbor configurations through time based on stratigraphy from intermediate and inner harbor. C is also based upon earlier archaeological excavations from within inner harbor described by Raban (1996). Reinhardt and Raban (1998) |
Description
|
VI-VII+ |
| Tsunami | Offshore Caesarea
Fig. 1Caesarea harbor, overview (adapted from Boyce et al 2009) Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010)
Fig. 3Location of sediment cores extracted in 2005 and 2007 Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010) |
Fig. 4Dip and strike CHIRP profiles (see Fig. 3), from which sample segments “a” and “b” have been enlarged for comparison with previously identified sediment core and underwater excavation stratigraphic compilations within the surveyed area (Reinhardt et al., 2006; Reinhardt and Raban, 2008; Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009). Three horizons, representing four tsunami events, are recognizable from the available core evidence within the surveyed area (for core locations, see Fig. 1C). Goodman-Tchernov and Austin (2015)
Fig. 4Summary of tsunamigenic characteristics identified in cores and excavations from the shore ('NS') and terrestrial area (`T') to greater depths JW: Later publications redated Byzantine 551 A.D. to 749 .A.D. with possible reworked 551 A.D. deposits. If Roman 115 A.D. deposit is tsunamogenic, it was more likely caused by the early 2nd century Incense Road Earthquake rather than the distant 115 A.D. Trajan Quake Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010) |
Description
|
IX + |
| Tsunami | Harbor
Figure 4The Roman, Herodian harbor of Caesarea left panel—aerial photo right panel—artist reconstruction [43]
Galili et al (2021)
Fig. 1Caesarea harbor, overview (adapted from Boyce et al 2009) Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010)
Figure 1View of ancient harbor area showing rubble spill of ancient break-waters, probable configuration of Herod's harbor, fault lines extending through harbor, and excavation areas. JW: Area K is top left Reinhardt and Raban (1998) |
Figure 2Stratigraphic sections from excavation areas from intermediate and inner harbor (see Fig. 1 for locations). For biofacies characters and 87Sr/86Sr data, see Table 1. Stratigraphic, foraminiferal, and 87Sr/86Sr data from TN1a, I14, and I9 were reported by Reinhardt et al. (1998a), Yule and Barham (1999a, 1999b), and Raban et al. (1999b). 14C samples were measured at Weizmann Institute of Science, Israel (sample numbers RT2585, RT2631, and RT2650-RT2654) and calibrated to calendar ages using method of Stuiver and Reimer (1993). Reinhardt and Raban (1998)
Fig. 4Dip and strike CHIRP profiles (see Fig. 3), from which sample segments “a” and “b” have been enlarged for comparison with previously identified sediment core and underwater excavation stratigraphic compilations within the surveyed area (Reinhardt et al., 2006; Reinhardt and Raban, 2008; Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009). Three horizons, representing four tsunami events, are recognizable from the available core evidence within the surveyed area (for core locations, see Fig. 1C). Goodman-Tchernov and Austin (2015) |
Description
|
IX + |
| Fallen port architecture | harbor
Figure 4The Roman, Herodian harbor of Caesarea left panel—aerial photo right panel—artist reconstruction [43]
Galili et al (2021)
Fig. 1Caesarea harbor, overview (adapted from Boyce et al 2009) Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010)
Figure 1View of ancient harbor area showing rubble spill of ancient break-waters, probable configuration of Herod's harbor, fault lines extending through harbor, and excavation areas. JW: Area K is top left Reinhardt and Raban (1998) |
Description
|
VIII + |
Earthquake Archeological Effects (EAE)| Effect | Location | Image(s) | Description | Intensity |
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Synagogue in Field O |
|
|
|
Earthquake Archeological Effects (EAE)| Effect | Location | Image(s) | Description | Intensity |
|---|---|---|---|---|
|
Vault 2 in Area CV
Figure 130Area CV block plan William Isenberger drawing Raban et al. (1993 v. II)
Figure 129Area CV (foreground), looking east across JECM Field C. Vaults 1 and 2 lie beneath remains of U-shaped building and soil deposits in center. At upper left, JECM Areas C.7, C.8, and C.ll with exposed sub-flooring of U-shaped building. Foreground, CV/1 and CV/2 with pavement CV/1047. CV/10 lies to the right (south). Zaraza Friedman photo. Raban et al. (1993 v. II) |
Figure 133Area CV/2, structural collapse from Vault 2, looking west. Ceramics crushed by falling masonry (L2017) Lisa Helfert photo Raban et al. (1993 v. II)
Figure 132Area CV/1, south balk. Five phases are visible:
Lisa Helfert photo. Raban et al. (1993 v. II) |
|
|
Earthquake Archeological Effects (EAE)| Effect | Location | Image(s) | Description | Intensity | ||||||||||||||||||||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Tsunami | Offshore Caesarea and Jisr al-Zikra
Fig. 1Topographic map of the study area, depicting the Crocodile River position, aqueducts, dams, and Carmel Ridge in central Israel (adapted from Reinhardt et al., 2003) Location map of sediment cores offshore Caesarea and Jisr al-Zarka: 1–3, 5, 6 (marked as black hexagons) and Area W underwater excavation (marked as a black square), isobaths are in meters. A surface sample from −50 m below sea level was also collected and is indicated by the * within the upper left inset. Tyuleneva et al (2017)
Fig. 3Location of sediment cores extracted in 2005 and 2007 Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010) |
Fig. 8Stratigraphic correlation of the core 6 offshore Jisr al-Zarka with representative core 2 (see Fig. 1) from Caesarea (adapted from Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009). Sea level data are according to Sivan et al. (2001, 2004). Tyuleneva et al (2017)
Fig. 4Dip and strike CHIRP profiles (see Fig. 3), from which sample segments “a” and “b” have been enlarged for comparison with previously identified sediment core and underwater excavation stratigraphic compilations within the surveyed area (Reinhardt et al., 2006; Reinhardt and Raban, 2008; Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009). Three horizons, representing four tsunami events, are recognizable from the available core evidence within the surveyed area (for core locations, see Fig. 1C). Goodman-Tchernov and Austin (2015)
Fig. 4Summary of tsunamigenic characteristics identified in cores and excavations from the shore ('NS') and terrestrial area (`T') to greater depths JW: Later publications redated Byzantine 551 A.D. to 749 .A.D. with possible reworked 551 A.D. deposits. If Roman 115 A.D. deposit is tsunamogenic, it was more likely caused by the early 2nd century Incense Road Earthquake rather than the distant 115 A.D. Trajan Quake Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010) |
Description
|
IX + | ||||||||||||||||||||
| Tsunami | Harbor
Figure 4The Roman, Herodian harbor of Caesarea left panel—aerial photo right panel—artist reconstruction [43]
Galili et al (2021)
Fig. 1Caesarea harbor, overview (adapted from Boyce et al 2009) Dey and Goodman-Tchernov (2010)
Figure 1View of ancient harbor area showing rubble spill of ancient break-waters, probable configuration of Herod's harbor, fault lines extending through harbor, and excavation areas. JW: Area K is top left Reinhardt and Raban (1998) |
Figure 2Stratigraphic sections from excavation areas from intermediate and inner harbor (see Fig. 1 for locations). For biofacies characters and 87Sr/86Sr data, see Table 1. Stratigraphic, foraminiferal, and 87Sr/86Sr data from TN1a, I14, and I9 were reported by Reinhardt et al. (1998a), Yule and Barham (1999a, 1999b), and Raban et al. (1999b). 14C samples were measured at Weizmann Institute of Science, Israel (sample numbers RT2585, RT2631, and RT2650-RT2654) and calibrated to calendar ages using method of Stuiver and Reimer (1993). Reinhardt and Raban (1998)
Fig. 4Dip and strike CHIRP profiles (see Fig. 3), from which sample segments “a” and “b” have been enlarged for comparison with previously identified sediment core and underwater excavation stratigraphic compilations within the surveyed area (Reinhardt et al., 2006; Reinhardt and Raban, 2008; Goodman-Tchernov et al., 2009). Three horizons, representing four tsunami events, are recognizable from the available core evidence within the surveyed area (for core locations, see Fig. 1C). Goodman-Tchernov and Austin (2015) |
Description
|
IX + | ||||||||||||||||||||
| Collapsed Vault or Walls, Tsunami, and a Fire | Area LL
Figure 1DAerial view of the archaeological site and southern part of the Upper aqueduct, where reference samples were collected. All colored dots are linked to locations where samples were taken [as references for non tsunamogenic deposits]. Everhardt et. al. (2023)
Figure 1EAerial view of Area LL, bordering the northern side of the inner harbor basin.
Everhardt et. al. (2023)
Figure 3Plan Ad et al (2018) |
Fig. 8 (Ad)
Figure 8Wall Collapse looking west Ad et al (2018) Fig. 3
Figure 3Cores C1 and C2 (left) and Southern Baulk section (right) Everhardt et. al. (2023) Fig. 2B
Figure 2BAnomalous layer (the top of which touched the Abbasid floor above) Everhardt et. al. (2023) Fig. 2C
Figure 2CUmayyad archaeological fill directly underlying the anomalous deposit. Inset shows fire-burnt stones in the eastern wall of the corridor, at the same level as the top of the Umayyad archaeological fill. Everhardt et. al. (2023) Fig. 4
Core LL16 C1 results.
Everhardt et. al. (2023) Fig. 5
Figure 5'LL Southern Baulk’ Results.
Everhardt et. al. (2023) Fig. 8 (Everhardt)
Figure 8Tsunami corridor. Based on the damage to the southern and southwestern walls and orientation of the collapsed building stones, the dominant destruction came from the southern harbor facing side of the corridor. Everhardt et. al. (2023) |
Description
Site LL is located just north of Caesarea's inner harbour. Ad et al (2018) excavated
the site
reddened, partially heat-fused sand clusterswere in agreement with the presence of reddened in-situ building blocks along the intact eastern wall of the room (and elsewhere along the walls)which indicated that a fire took place before the tsunami struck. They also noted an abundance of charcoal found in the upper Umayyad archaeological fill.They viewed the presence of marine-encrusted potsherds as an indicator that these inclusions were previously submerged in the marine system long enough for the encrustation to take place, suggesting that they were transported from the sea to land at the time of the eventwhich in turn could indicate that the tsunami water and deposits extinguishedthe fire. Everhardt et. al. (2023) proposed that the lower southern baulk was also a tsunamogenic deposit related to 'anomalous" deposit Unit A in the cores. Beverly Goodman-Tchernov (personal communication, 2023) suggests that the earthquake did not leave a directional signature of damage and collapse largely because site LL experienced liquefaction during this earthquake but the impact of the tsunami did leave a directional signature as shown in Fig. 8 (Everhardt)
Footnotes
1 Everhardt et. al. (2023:5) reports that fire-reddened walls (see inset of Figure 2C) were found at
the same level as the destruction layer(s). A single piece of charcoal from the surface of the Umayyad archaeological fill (Unit C) in core C1 has been radiocarbon dated with 95.4% probability to 649–687 cal CE (73.5%) or 743–773 cal CE (22.0%), consistent with the archaeological finds. A second radiocarbon age was measured on a mix of small organic materials from the same layer as the previous charcoal sample, with a result of 605–665 cal CE (95.4% probability). |
VIII-IX + | ||||||||||||||||||||
| Tsunami deposit ? | Terraced Gardens
Figure 6Aerial photo of the Caesarea coast
Table 1 [41,43] Galili et al (2021)
Fig. 1Late antique/early Islamic Caesarea, with principal sites and excavation areas mentioned in the text. Dey et al(2014) |
Fig. 14A deposit of broken pottery in the Roman circus (up to 3 m thick):
Galili et al (2021)
Sign from the park at Caesarea explaining the "Archaeological Deposit". Deposits are described as Late Roman and
Early Byzantine deposited in the 3rd and 4th centuries CE. Dating is presumed to be derived from pottery and stratigraphy.Click on Image to open a higher resolution and slightly magnifiable image in a new tab Photo by Jefferson Williams - 20 April 2023 |
Description
|
IX + | ||||||||||||||||||||
| Collapse and debris | Area TPS, on the S side of the Temple Platform and the octagonal church on the platform
Figure 1Roman and Crusader Caesarea, map of the excavations and the current excavation (sourced from ESI 17:38).. JW: Excavations were in Areas D and E marked in red on the map Ad et al (2017)
Area TP: plan showing foundations of the octagonal church.Stern et. al. (2008) |
Description
|
VIII + |
Fig. 4.
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| Variable | Input | Units | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|
| Magnitude | |||
| km. | Distance to earthquake producing fault | ||
| Variable | Output - Site Effect not considered | Units | Notes |
| unitless | Local Intensity | ||
| unitless | Conversion from Intensity to PGA using Wald et al (1999) |
| Location | Approx. Distance to Caesarea (km.) |
|---|---|
| en Feshka (N end of Dead Sea) |
105 |
| al-Masraa, Jordan (S end of Dead Sea) |
136 |
| Safi, Jordan | 173 |
| Taybeh Trench | 235 |
| Qatar Trench | 290 |
| Variable | Input | Units | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|
| Magnitude | |||
| km. | Distance to earthquake producing fault | ||
| Variable | Output - Site Effect not considered | Units | Notes |
| unitless | Local Intensity | ||
| unitless | Conversion from Intensity to PGA using Wald et al (1999) |
| Location | Approx. Distance to Caesarea (km.) |
|---|---|
| al-Harif Aqueduct | 320 |
| Apamea | 350 |
| Antioch | 430 |
| Variable | Input | Units | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|
| Magnitude | |||
| km. | Distance to earthquake producing fault | ||
| Variable | Output - Site Effect not considered | Units | Notes |
| unitless | Local Intensity | ||
| unitless | Conversion from Intensity to PGA using Wald et al (1999) |
| Location | Approx. Distance to Caesarea (km.) |
|---|---|
| Tyre | 88 |
| Sidon | 123 |
| Beirut | 163 |
| Estimated Epicenter of Elias et al (2007) | 175 |
| Byblos | 192 |
| Variable | Input | Units | Notes |
|---|---|---|---|
| Magnitude | |||
| km. | Distance to earthquake producing fault | ||
| Variable | Output - Site Effect not considered | Units | Notes |
| unitless | Local Intensity | ||
| unitless | Conversion from Intensity to PGA using Wald et al (1999) |
| Location | Approx. Distance to Caesarea (km.) |
|---|---|
| Bet She'an | 56 |
| Tiberias | 68 |
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252 (1983), 61-68
id., RB 88 (1981), 582-583
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V. Sussman, 'Atiqot 14 (1980), 76-79
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id., Studia Pompeiana et Classica (W. F. Jashemski Fest.) 2, New Rochelle, N.Y. 1989, 87-104;
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R. L. Vann, City, Town
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H. K. Beebe, JNES
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A. Betz, Pro Arte Antiquo (H. Kenner Fest.), Vienna 1983, 33-36
C. M. Lehmann,
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id., Classical
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E. Trocme, MdB 27
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E. Will, Fondation Eugene Piot (Monuments et Memoires 65) (1983), 1-24
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R. Wenning,Boreas-Munstersche Beitriige zur Archiiologie9(1986), 113-129
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Y. Porathet al., ES/9
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Y. Porath (and S. Yankelevitz), ESI 9 (1989-1990), 130-131.
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R. J. Painter, Mithraism and the Religious Context at
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Y.
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M. A.
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Israel Nature and National Parks Protection Authority,
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R. Linn, Scientific Investigation of the Roman and Early Byzantine Wall Paintings of Caesarea, Israel (M.A. thesis), London 1996
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E. Black, Maritime
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A. Zemer, From the Treasures of Caesarea (National Maritime Museum Catalogue), Haifa
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Y. Turnheim & A. Ovadiah, Art in the Public and Private Spheres in Roman Caesarea Maritima: Temples,
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Y. D. Arnon, Alternation and Continuity in the Early Islamic Pottery Types from the 7th Century to the 12th Century ce: The
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E. Ayalon, The Assemblage of Bone and Ivory
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id., AJA
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R. Gersht, IEJ 41 (1991), 145–156
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id., ASOR Newsletter 46/3 (1996), 19
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R. L. Hohlfelder, ABD, 1, New York 1992, 798–
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id., Jahrbuch für Antike und Christentum Ergänzungsband 20 (1995),
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id., HUCMS News 23 (1996), 13–14
id., The Oxford Encyclopedia of Archaeology in the Near
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E. Krentz, JNES 51 (1992), 157–158, 220–221 (Reviews)
A. Mazar, ‘Atiqot 21 (1992),
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MdB 75 (1992), 29
M. Peleg & R. Reich, ‘Atiqot 21 (1992), 137–170
Y. Roman, Eretz Magazine
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Eveline J. Van der Steen, PEQ 124 (1992) 66 (Review)
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R. R. Stieglitz, ibid.,
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A. Van der Heyden, Ariel, Eng. Series 93 (1993), 15–28
T. Rajak, BAIAS 13 (1993–1994), 68–70
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F. L.
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id., LA 50 (2000), 363–382
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id., Proceedings of the 12th World Congress of
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M. K. Risser, AJA 98 (1994),
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S. Sachs & R. J. Bull,
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J. A. Blakely, ASOR
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C. Christian & B. Heese, ASOR Newsletter 45/2 (1995), 18
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A. L. Slayman, Archaeology 48/2 (1995), 16
D. Strong, HUCMS 22 (1995)
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E. Adams, Archaeology 49/1 (1996), 32
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F. E. Winter, Archaeology 49/6
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A. M. Berlin, BA 60 (1997), 2–51
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Figure 2
Figure 3
Figure 4
Figure 8
Figure 4
Figure 5
Figure 6
Fig. 14
Fig. 15
Fig. 14
Sign from the park at Caesarea explaining the "Archaeological Deposit". Deposits are described as Late Roman and
Early Byzantine deposited in the 3rd and 4th centuries CE. Dating is presumed to be derived from pottery and stratigraphy.
Fig. 2
Figure 4
Figure 5
Figure 6at least the Hellenistic Period.
| Item | Photos | Description |
|---|---|---|
| The quay of the Hellenistic northern harbor of Straton’s Tower | 6
Figure 6Aerial photo of the Caesarea coast
Table 1 [41,43] Galili et al (2021) 7
Figure 7
Galili et al (2021) |
The quay (Figures 6a and 7a), described by Raban (pp. 82–84, [48]) is built of headers. It is at an elevation that still enables functioning today, suggesting stable sea-level conditions since the 2nd century BCE. |
| Harbor wharves in the central basin | 4
Figure 4The Roman, Herodian harbor of Caesarea left panel—aerial photo right panel—artist reconstruction [43]
Galili et al (2021) 6
Figure 6Aerial photo of the Caesarea coast
Table 1 [41,43] Galili et al (2021) 7
Figure 7
Galili et al (2021) |
The wharves were built on the kurkar ridge and they retained their original level [41]: On the south-western side of this basin, a Roman quay was built of headers and it is presently at sea level (Figures 4(1) and 7b). Another quay was excavated by Raban on the northeastern side of this basin and was dated to the Herodian period (p. 86 and Figure 22, p. 115 and Figure 6, [48]) (Figures 4(2) and 7c). Both structures are currently at an elevation that enables functioning. |
| A surface built of large ashlars | 4
Figure 4The Roman, Herodian harbor of Caesarea left panel—aerial photo right panel—artist reconstruction [43]
Galili et al (2021) 7
Figure 7
Galili et al (2021) |
The surface was discovered in the western basin at more than 5 m depth (Figures 4(3) and 7d). This structure was interpreted as a submerged pavement, supposedly indicating that the west basin of the harbor underwent tectonic subsidence and could no longer function as a port (p. 96 and Figure 38a,b [48]; [56–59]). This surface, however, could have been originally built underwater (see below). |
| Rock-cut Roman-palace pool | 6
Figure 6Aerial photo of the Caesarea coast
Table 1 [41,43] Galili et al (2021) 8
Figure 8The rock-cut Roman pool in the reef palace, looking south (for location see Figure 6b). Galili et al (2021) |
The rectangular basin in the southern palace (socalled Cleopatra pool) (Figures 6b and 8) (pp. 217–228, [60]), was interpreted as a swimming pool. It was operated by sea-water and its elevation still enables functioning today. |
| Roman harbor installations in the eastern basin | 4
Figure 4The Roman, Herodian harbor of Caesarea left panel—aerial photo right panel—artist reconstruction [43]
Galili et al (2021) |
A Roman mooring stone and staircase leading to it were found on the eastern quay of the eastern basin (p. 208, [46]) (Figure 4). Their elevation enables functioning today |
| Byzantine sewer outlet in the northern anchorage | 6
Figure 6Aerial photo of the Caesarea coast
Table 1 [41,43] Galili et al (2021) 9
Figure 9Byzantine sewer outlet on the coast and partly submerged in the northern anchorage (marked with red arrows, for location see Figure 6c), and a beachrock ridge designating the location of the coastline before the construction of the harbor (marked with blue arrows, for location see Figure 6f), looking north. Galili et al (2021) |
The Byzantine sewer outlet has been ruined by the advancing sea (Figures 6c and 9). The ruins of this stone-built structure are now scattered along the sea bed to a distance of 35 m offshore. Originally, this indicates the location of the Byzantine coastline at the time that the sewer was still operating, some 1500 years ago. Its present location suggests that the coastline has shifted eastwards since the Byzantine period (p. 20, [41]) (Figures 6c and 9). |
| Water wells | A study of tens of water wells at Caesarea suggests that the sea level was constant in the last 2 ky, and that there were no tectonic changes in the region during that period [30,61]. |
|
| Stone-built pool near Kibbutz Sedot-Yam | 6
Figure 6Aerial photo of the Caesarea coast
Table 1 [41,43] Galili et al (2021) 10
Figure 10Stone-built pool near Kibbutz Sedot-Yam, looking north-west (for location see Figure 5d) [43] Galili et al (2021) |
The rectangular stone-built pool that can be filled with sea water by gravity is currently at present sea level (Figures 6d and 10). Given its building style and location (close to the southern Byzantine city wall), it can be dated to the Byzantine period. The structure could have served as a swimming pool. |
| Crusader mole in the northern part of the central basin | 5
Figure 5The Caesarea region
Table 1 [41,43] Galili et al (2021) 11
Figure 11. Crusader mole in the northern part of the central basin of the harbor:
Galili et al (2021) |
The Crusader mole was built of secondary-used pillars, which were placed on the flat, natural rock (probably abrasion platform). Its elevation enables functioning today (Figures 5d and 11). |
| Abrasion platforms | 6
Figure 6Aerial photo of the Caesarea coast
Table 1 [41,43] Galili et al (2021) |
North and south of the harbor, the coastal kurkar ridge was abraded by the sea and the abrasion platforms are at the same elevation as present sea levels (Figure 6e). The abrasion platforms and wave notches in Caesarea and along the entire Carmel coast suggest stable sea-level conditions over the last few thousand years, since sea levels reached their present elevation, ca. 4 ky ago [12,29]. |
| Oysters on the quay of the eastern basin of the Roman harbor | 4
Figure 4The Roman, Herodian harbor of Caesarea left panel—aerial photo right panel—artist reconstruction [43]
Galili et al (2021) |
The mollusks attached to the stones suggest that during the Roman Period, the water level in the eastern basin was similar to that of today (p. 208, [46]) (Figure 4(5)). |
| Beachrock north of the northern Crusader wall | 4
Figure 4The Roman, Herodian harbor of Caesarea left panel—aerial photo right panel—artist reconstruction [43]
Galili et al (2021) 12
Figure 12Beachrock north of the northern Crusader Wall:
Galili et al (2021) |
(Figures 4(6) and 12)—A 50 m long deposit of beach rock, with Roman marble chank traps in it, is attached to the kurkar rock at present day sea-level elevations, suggesting stable sea-level conditions over the last two thousand years. |
| Beach rock ridge in the northern anchorage (Figures 6f and 9) | 6
Figure 6Aerial photo of the Caesarea coast
Table 1 [41,43] Galili et al (2021) 9
Figure 9Byzantine sewer outlet on the coast and partly submerged in the northern anchorage (marked with red arrows, for location see Figure 6c), and a beachrock ridge designating the location of the coastline before the construction of the harbor (marked with blue arrows, for location see Figure 6f), looking north. Galili et al (2021) |
A massive strip of in-situ beach rock deposit, about 2.8 m-thick, is at 0.2–3.0 m below the present sea level. The deposit is located parallel to the coast, some 60 m west of the present shore and the remains of the aqueduct foundations (Figures 9 and 6f). This beachrock probably marks the location of the ancient coastline before the construction of the harbor and the aqueduct, and indicates that the shoreline has retreated horizontally some 60 m eastwards since the construction of the Roman aqueduct. This coastline shift must have occurred under stable sea-level conditions (p. 20, [41]). |
| References Cited by Galili et al (2021) |
References
[12] Galili, E.; Sharvit, J. Ancient Coastal Installations and the Tectonic Stability of the Israeli Coast in Historical Times. In Coastal
Tectonics; Stewart, I.S., Vita-Finzi, C., Eds.; Geological Society London, Special Publications: Oxford, UK, 1998; Volume 146,
pp. 147–163. |
| kmz | Description | Reference |
|---|---|---|
| Right Click to download | Master Caesarea kmz file | various |
| Right Click to download | Location of Stratton's Tower - kmz file | various |