Deep in Turkey’s biggest body of water, Lake Van, a secret fortress lay dormant for thousands of years, discovered recently by a team of university archaeologists following local rumors of a submerged structure.

Headed by Tahsin Ceylan, a group from Van Yüzüncü Yil University discovered this Iron Age marvel spanning over a half-mile deep below the surface, with walls stretching up to 13 feet above the bed of the lake.

What remains is a mixture of fallen stone piles and persistent structural surfaces dating back around 3,000 years to a time when the lake’s surface would have been hundreds of feet lower.

Overtime, the lake levels rose and the regional kingdom that existed as far back as the eight century BCE was to presumed to have been based in this area, and possibly this building compound.

In the wake of this discovery, researchers aim to revisit the site and begin to dig below the subsurface sediment in order to learn more about the kingdom and see just how deep this mystery really goes.

70 nautical miles off the coast of Key West in Florida is a series of seven islands set among a graveyard of over 200 ships, crowned with a massive 19th century fortress that lay abandoned for nearly a century. The Dry Tortugas once hosted Spanish explorer Ponce de Leon and an influx of marauding pirates; today it’s a bird and wildlife sanctuary and a national park.

(top image via: nps.gov; above images via: ricsae 1, 2, 3)

In 1513, Ponce de Leon became the first European to discover the island, naming it ‘Tortugas’ for the many green, hawksbill, leatherback and loggerhead turtles he found there. He and many pirates after him relied on the turtles for meat and eggs. Between the 1600s and the 1800s, hundreds of ships wrecked on the surrounding reefs and shoals, and word ‘Dry’ was added to the islands’ name on maps to warn mariners of the lack of fresh water.

(images via: vladeb 1, 2, 3)

Construction began on the 45-foot-high, hexagonal Fort Jefferson on Garden Key in the late 1840s when U.S. Army strategists became concerned about the security of shipping lanes in the Gulf of Mexico, and it was still unfinished 30 years later. It was briefly used as a prison for Union deserters in the Civil War, but was besieged in later decades by yellow fever, hurricane damage and the fact that its cannons had become obsolete. It was permanently abandoned in 1907.

(images via: evragasa, bruce tuten 1 + 2)

Fort Jefferson and the rest of the 64,700-acre Dry Tortugas were officially established as a national park in 1992. Fort Jefferson remains the largest all-masonry fort in the United States. While restoration efforts have helped preserve it, the forces of nature and time continue to take their toll. The islands can be accessed by a three-hour boat ride from Key West, or a 45-minute plane ride.

At a depth of nearly 100 feet, what could possibly explain these radially-symmetrical patterns appearing on the ocean floor off the coast of Japan, like some kind of extra-terrestrial snow angel or uncannily-submersed sand castle?

One photographer and diver chose to find out the source of these six-foot-diameter wonders, and documented their submarine exploration as well as the surprise explanation they uncovered – not aliens, nor humans, but an artist native to this exotic habitat.

Yoji Ookata found a series of small male fish working tirelessly, day in and night out, to craft these mate-attracting marvels using a single fin.

At the center of their organic sand mandalas is the eventual hatching ground for the eggs of the species’ female, lured in by the bumps and grooves of the sculpture. In the end, these surprisingly-human fortifications help protect against jostling currents and potential predators.

This is a conceptual project with a breathtaking scope: to create a perimeter of citadels surrounding Japan, protecting the island nation above, on and below the ground.

Like turrets of an impossibly large fortress, the idea (perhaps unintentionally) borrows from a neighboring nation (the Great Wall of China) the notion that one can create a barrier spanning an entire empire. Were this constructed, this project by Victor Kopeikin and Pavlo Zabotin could certainly contest other Wonders of the World.

The idea is part of a larger reorganizational notion tackling all levels of infrastructure:  “Economic Zone: (a city in a modern context), infrastructure and government buildings will be left untouched – Residential functions will be taken outside the cities – Economic (“agrarian”) zone will be located between the two previous zones (orchards, gardens, greenhouses).” But it is also born out of a more immediate and pragmatic response to the recent tsunami that devastated the country: “[The] skyscrapers themselves are connected by a system of breakwaters and drainage channels, able to withstand waves up to 50 meters that prevent the destructive waves to reach the shoreline.”

Finally, they are also intended to be self-sufficient, using “the energy of the tides in the design of such facilities. The system of underwater routers situated along the perimeter of the building in-between breakwater corridors, where because of an artificially flow increases the velocity of the water masses. The building also has an autonomous supply of drinking water (boreholes) and the system of the ground floors with live fish tanks and warehouses storing food for the inhabitants of a skyscraper (a system of bunkers).”

When the Zombie Apocalypse finally arrives, the winding tower at Japan’s abandoned Shime coal mine is where you want to be. This stark, partially moss-covered concrete colossus has been abandoned for nearly a half century yet its moldering remains serve as a reminder of a harsh industrial past when coal fueled mighty engines of destruction.

Towering Infernal

(image via: Wikimedia)

The winding tower of the former Shime coal mine near the city of Fukuoka, Japan, is unusual even in a country chock full of abandonments. For starters, many of the country’s better known urban ruins date from a very recent time period when Japan’s government doled out dollops of cash to pretty much any man with a plan, hair-brained or not. The results included unpopular and unsuccessful theme parks like Gulliver’s Kingdom, situated in the shadow of Mount Fuji next to an unfortunately popular “suicide forest”.

(images via: Focuslight and Hibiki15)

The Shime coal mine tower, on the other hand, dates from the middle of World War II: it was built between 1941 and 1943 to help increase the yield of a coal mine established in 1889, and it’s really a wonder the Allies didn’t bomb it to smithereens. Operated by the Imperial Japanese Navy, the mine was rumored to have “employed” Allied POWs so perhaps its survival through VJ Day was just as well. Indeed, the tower and the mine below operated until 1964 when it was finally closed for good.

(images via: Yahoo! Japan Blog, Shinnoshuk and O-Project)

The 47.65 meter (156.3 ft) tall tower is of an odd design, having offices and control rooms located above the actual, long gone winding mechanism – huge reels of cable which raised loads of coal from the mine and lowered empty containers and workers back into the depths of the mine up to 430 meters (1,411 ft) below.

A Miner Distraction

(images via: Tomo-Maru, Abandoned Kansai and A Blog of Sean)

As mentioned, the winding tower is located in the town of Shime but “located” is perhaps too mild a term: it dominates the town the way Dracula’s castle dominated… whatever Transsylvanian town it happened to overlook.

(image via: Daredevil Blog Re:Build)

One wonders what the good people of Shime think about their town’s most outstanding attraction. It may be that they don’t give it a second thought; and indeed, recent publicity (an NHK TV special, for one) has likely attracted visitors to Shime who wouldn’t otherwise give the tiny burg a second glance.

(images via: RuinsRider, Hanano-Kaori and Pixiv)

Shime’s children, likewise, give the tower only passing notice – they’re too busy playing on the colorful swings, slides and monkey bars installed practically in the ominous tower’s shadow. Good to know someone’s finally thinking of the children!

(images via: Suidouya0113 and Focuslight)

The local and regional authorities are getting into the “spirit” as well. Though decrepit enough to warrant the erection of chain link fences to keep out the increasing number of overly curious tourists and urban explorers, the winding tower’s grounds have been spruced up and a lighting system installed to highlight the gloomy structure’s intriguing architecture after nightfall.

Thanks for Teh Meme-ories

(images via: Know Your Meme and Matome)

For decades the Shime winding tower quietly mouldered away in obscurity until suddenly – Teh Intarnets! It seems some imaginative wag with a liking for zombie flicks stumbled upon (possibly via StumbleUpon) an image of the tower, and immediately deduced it would make the Best. Anti-Zombie Fortress. EVAR.

(images via: RKTM’s Tumbler Blog and Know Your Meme)

And so it began: one thread at Reddit begat another, and yet another, and soon Photoshop contests ensued along with much hilarity. The Anti-Zombie Fortess Meme soon took on a life of its own, and it takes no braiiiins to figure the Shime winding tower is destined to be cast as a prime location for some upcoming zombie flick.

(image via: Matome)

You’ve got to hand it to the Netizens, some of their rad mods to the Shime winding tower are truly inspired works of geek art. The “Mobile Gundam Tower” variation is especially er, special, and necessary as well: when the bodies of incapacitated zombies pile up and begin to form an undead ramp, just grab your bootstraps for a walk-off WIN.

Coal Hard Reality

(images via: Abandoned Kansai, Minkara Carview, Tomoko Okada and Suidouya0113)

What does the future hold for the Shime coal mine’s winding tower? Its war-era reinforced concrete is deteriorating and Japan’s economy doesn’t lend itself to the overly generous lending of days past.

(images via: XX Toshio and JerseyCattle)

Perhaps preservation is in the cards, however. On December 8th, 2009, the Shime coal mine’s winding tower was designated as an “important cultural property” by the Japanese government, thus guaranteeing some degree of protection along with the aforementioned fence and lighting.

(images via: Pixelogue, Jetzoku and Ohike0725)

Japan has few large-scale architectural relics dating from the era of the Pacific War, and the Shime coal mine’s winding tower joins Gunkanjima (“Battleship Island”) as one of the few to have survived mainly intact… though it would make a much better anti-zombie fortress, by far.

(images via: Blue Raider Zone, Amazon.com and Smatsu)

Netizens’ efforts aside, the winding tower of the former Shime coal mine doesn’t really need any help to look spooky and forbidding, in this humble scribe’s opinion.

(image via: Haikyo Hunter)

Even on bright summer days bathed in warm sunshine, the overgrown structure appears to harbor an ancient malevolent presence that waits, patiently, for darkness (and perhaps, civilization) to fall. Hmm… apocalypse or not, maybe I’ll just take my chances with the zombies.