Somewhere off the coast of Western Australia, in the middle of the night, when the ocean beneath you is almost three miles deep and full of things that have never seen light, a certain silence descends upon a research vessel. Standing on that deck, it’s difficult not to feel like an intruder. It’s as if you knocked on a door that wasn’t supposed to be opened. Apparently, that door leads to something remarkable.
The results of an expedition into the Cape Range and Cloates submarine canyons, which run north of Perth close to the Ningaloo coastline—a region of ocean most Australians are familiar with for its whale sharks and coral reefs, not for what’s lurking far, far below—were recently published by a team led by Curtin University. By all measures, it is challenging to fully comprehend what researchers discovered in those depths. Proof of the enormous squid. sharks that sleep better. It sounds like something from a fever dream—a faceless cusk eel. Additionally, there are an unspecified number of organisms that don’t exactly fit into any existing catalog. A total of 226 species were identified using DNA fragments that drifted undetectably through the water column rather than cameras or nets.
Environmental DNA, or eDNA, is a relatively new technique in deep-sea research, and seeing it used here is like seeing a change in the way science is actually conducted. The idea is almost unnervingly straightforward: biological material is continuously shed by all living things. waste, mucus, and skin cells. Genetic information is carried by that material, and that information persists. Without disturbing a single animal, researchers used the Schmidt Ocean Institute’s R/V Falkor to collect seawater samples from the surface down to a depth of 4,510 meters. They then compared the results with genetic databases to create a picture of life in those canyons. It turns out that hundreds of species’ biological fingerprints can be found in a single bottle of water.
It makes sense that the discovery of the enormous squid stopped many people in their tracks. The species in question, Architeuthis dux, can reach a height of ten to thirteen meters, weigh up to 275 kilograms, and have dinner plate-sized eyes. For decades, scientists have been searching for direct footage of living specimens. Giant squid have only been reported in Western Australian waters twice, and nothing has been confirmed in more than 25 years. Six distinct samples from both canyons contained eDNA traces. That reading is not an anomaly. There is a presence.

The creature—or creatures—may routinely travel through these canyons, attracted by prey or existing patterns that have not yet been mapped. It’s also possible that the canyons serve as something more akin to a highway for deep-sea megafauna, migration corridors that have been silently functioning for millennia while the surface world carried on with its daily activities completely unaware. The study’s lead author, Dr. Georgia Nester, was cautious not to exaggerate the squid tale, pointing out that while the enormous squid piques people’s interest, it is only one aspect of a much bigger discovery. It’s important to pay attention to that calm tone. The faceless cusk eel, the Cuvier’s beaked whale, and the Pygmy sperm whale are not insignificant species on that list.
When you read the research, you are struck by how obviously the data refutes the notion that deep ocean environments are similar or interchangeable. Geographically close to one another, the two canyons supported significantly different biological communities. Depth was important. Location was important. There are multiple ecosystems on the ocean floor. There are dozens of them, layered and divided by temperature bands, pressure gradients, and unmapped food webs. Conservation policy, which has traditionally tended toward broad-stroke protections rather than the kind of granular, ecosystem-specific management the data seems to suggest is necessary, is obviously affected by this complexity.
The idea that the deep ocean is the last truly uncharted territory on Earth and that the means to comprehend it have finally begun to catch up with the ambition is one that is gradually gaining traction among marine researchers. That includes eDNA. SuBastian, a remotely operated vehicle, also collected physical specimens during the expedition; these specimens are now permanently housed in the collection of the Western Australian Museum. Conventional taxonomy is still very important. However, the combination of genetic analysis and physical collection is yielding outcomes that neither strategy could achieve on its own. It seems like the start of something with that pairing.
The canyons are old formations in and of themselves. They were formed by geological forces unrelated to anything we have constructed, mapped, or named, and they predate modern human civilization by an impractical margin. Working at 4,500 meters is extremely costly and technically challenging, so it’s not entirely surprising that they haven’t been thoroughly studied until now. However, the question of how much and how long we’ve been missing remains silent and a little awkward.
