Salton Sea

The sea’s surface is like a mirror. It perfectly reflects the pale blue sky above, and contrasts sharply with the parched, sandy landscape that surrounds it. Here in the middle of one of the world’s most hostile desert environments, the sea seems like a mirage, and for all practical purposes should be. At 35 miles long and over 10 miles wide, it is California’s largest inland body of water. But all this water in the middle nowhere seems wholly unnatural.

Nearing the shore of the vast desert lake I drive along blanched and broken asphalt, passing by a few abandoned motor homes, their faded facades peppered with shotgun fire. Across the valley the Chocolate Mountains reflect off the water, and the whole scene shimmers in the morning heat, which has already soared above 90 degrees Fahrenheit. I park in front of a vacant motel with shattered windows, alongside a row of dead palm trees, their stumps dried-up and sad looking. I exit the car and the heat accosts me. A short walk takes me to the beach. The bone-white sand crunches strangely under my feet. As I approach the water the air thickens with a rancid, swampy stench. At the water’s edge, dried to petrifaction, lie thousands of dead fish, their mouths agape and cartoon-like. They line the shore like soap rings around some stagnant bathtub, stretching off as far as the eye can see.

The scene is a strange one, to say the least. It’s as though I am witness to a disaster of epic proportions, some form of ecological holocaust. But to know the history of this forgotten body of water is to ponder one of the most puzzling environmental paradoxes known to man. At the heart of the matter lies one of the most vicious and silent battles in the history of Western expansion, a battle driven by white man’s greed and a desire to conquer nature, a battle fought over the desert’s most precious resource: water.

This series of photographs represents the fruit from five separate trips to the Salton Sea. I have spent weeks camping along its edges and contemplating its problems and grim future, all the time in awe of its abundance of wildlife and lack of human presence. It is one place which better embodies the conflict of man and nature than any other in the world. It is a living example of all of the mistakes we have made while trying to manipulate this planet to meet our needs. The Sea’s surface is like a mirror, I often think to myself, and in it we see a grim reflection of ourselves.