Late last year, scientists in New Zealand announced that they had created the most thorough map of any continent on planet Earth. For decades, the geologists had dug up and analyzed countless rock samples in order to chart the continent's plateaus, volcanoes, valleys, mountain ridges, and even its submarine shelves—the boundaries where the landmass met the sea.
However, the massive mapping project had a major complication: 95 percent of the continent was underwater.
Zealandia—sometimes referred to as Earth's eighth continent—stretches almost two million square miles (about half the size of nearby Australia) beneath the South Pacific Ocean. The majority of the continent sank about 80 million years ago, when the supercontinent Gondwana broke apart, though pieces of it still peak out above the water, most notably the islands of New Caledonia and New Zealand.
While it's now the most well-charted, Zealandia is far from the only "lost continent" on Earth. That's because, despite what your third grade teacher taught you, what makes a continent a continent has less to do with its geography and more to do with its geology. Continental crust, whether it's above or below sea level, is thick and composed of rocks like granite, rhyolite, schist, and greywacke.
Through the use of advanced imaging software, seismographs, and good old-fashioned field work, scientists are discovering and describing other lost continents that—thanks to the tectonic powers that govern our planet—have also fallen off the map. |
Late last year, scientists in New Zealand announced that they had created the most thorough map of any continent on planet Earth. For decades, the geologists had dug up and analyzed countless rock samples in order to chart the continent's plateaus, volcanoes, valleys, mountain ridges, and even its submarine shelves—the boundaries where the landmass met the sea.
However, the massive mapping project had a major complication: 95 percent of the continent was underwater.
Zealandia—sometimes referred to as Earth's eighth continent—stretches almost two million square miles (about half the size of nearby Australia) beneath the South Pacific Ocean. The majority of the continent sank about 80 million years ago, when the supercontinent Gondwana broke apart, though pieces of it still peak out above the water, most notably the islands of New Caledonia and New Zealand.
While it's now the most well-charted, Zealandia is far from the only "lost continent" on Earth. That's because, despite what your third grade teacher taught you, what makes a continent a continent has less to do with its geography and more to do with its geology. Continental crust, whether it's above or below sea level, is thick and composed of rocks like granite, rhyolite, schist, and greywacke.
Through the use of advanced imaging software, seismographs, and good old-fashioned field work, scientists are discovering and describing other lost continents that—thanks to the tectonic powers that govern our planet—have also fallen off the map. |
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| Spoiler alert! The hair of the dog is not a great plan. | |
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| On a windy October day in 1963, 500 miles offshore from Boston, Lt. James H. Flatley III aimed his C-130 Hercules, America's massive cargo-carrying workhorse plane, toward the USS Forrestal, one of the Navy's largest aircraft carriers. The ship powered through choppy Atlantic seas that pitched its flight deck up and down by as much as 30 feet as Flatley descended toward his target.
Navy pilots like Flatley train relentlessly in order to land nimble jets on aircraft carriers. But the mighty Hercules boasted a wingspan of 132 feet, nearly four times wider than Flatley's usual fighter, the F-4N Phantom II. Aircraft built to land on carriers have reinforced airframes to withstand hard landings, along with a tail hook to grab arresting cables on the flight deck to bring them to a sudden, safe stop. But Flatley's lightly modified KC-130F—a Marine Corps refueling variant of the Hercules—had neither.
Using an old fighter-pilot trick known as the "chop," Flatley killed the engines a few feet off the deck, basically belly-flopping his plane onto the carrier. As he brought the 85,000-pound behemoth down, his wingtip missed the control tower by just 15 feet. Despite its incredible size, the C-130 came to a complete stop in just 267 feet, with plenty of the carrier's 1,000-plus-foot runway left. Flatley would take off and land his KC-130 aboard the Forrestal nearly two dozen times, demonstrating just how well the Hercules could handle extreme aviation conditions. To this day, Flatley, who retired as a rear admiral, remains the only person to land a C-130 on an aircraft carrier.
Those early tests proved that the plane's stout frame and ridiculously powerful propeller-driven engines made it suitable for tasks far more demanding than hauling cargo. The C-130 would serve as an airborne refueler, deliver special-operations troops to far-flung airstrips, and even circle over combat zones with a massive 105mm howitzer hanging out the side. |
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| Use our guide to plan your stargazing outings, and never miss a meteor shower or eclipse again. |
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| The X-37B and the "Divine Dragon" are diminutive spaceplanes locked in a diminutive space race. |
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| They're guaranteed to make your head spin. | |
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