In the historic Lebanese town of Byblos, Amelia Thomas meets world-famous palaeontologist Pierre Abi Saad
Early morning sunlight dapples the golden stones of the sleepy Lebanese seaside town of Byblos, where the ruins of once grand Roman and medieval buildings dip their weary toes in the blue waters of the Mediterranean.
Fishermen hoist up writhing nets in the picturesque, half-moon harbour; waiters at waterside restaurants sweep stone floors and arrange flapping tablecloths. Salesmen assemble their wares in the cobbled streets of the old souq, and the tiny, optimistic tourist office throws open its shutters for yet another quiet day.
The bloody conflicts that frequently rock the tiny, troubled nation seem a world away from this idyllic little workaday town. And as if to prove it, somewhere in a quiet backstreet, world-renowned palaeontologist Pierre Abi Saad is spending the morning in the company of some 100-million-year-old friends, who once inhabited the beleaguered land when it lay peacefully, deep beneath the Mediterranean.
Abi Saad’s tiny shop, ‘The Memory of Time,’ in this picturesque, but today largely untouristed, ancient port, boasts one of the world’s most impressive – and extensive – collections of marine fossils. And this morning Abi Saad is hard at work, patiently chipping away at a promising lump of limestone, armed with a hammer and chisel. He delicately aligns his chisel with a seam in the rock and taps. Shards of stone fly across the workshop. ‘You never know what you might find inside
one of these. Here.’ he gestures down to the small rock and taps again. Then, with one final wallop of the hammer, the rock splits open and the perfectly preserved, ancient contours of a tiny fish are revealed. ‘Just think,’ says Abi Saad, gazing down, ‘ours are probably the first eyes to set sight on this creature in millions of years.’
Abi Saad’s collection is certainly quite a catch. His are the only fish fossils ever retrieved in the Middle East and they attract buyers from across the globe. ‘Almost all natural history museums in the world – especially the important ones – have my fossils in their collections,’ he says, as he continues to work carefully on the piece of rock. Primitive eels, coelacanths – one of the oldest species of fish still in existence – octopi, rays, shrimps and the ancient ancestors of swordfish are all represented on his shelves. Around 80 per cent of his collection comprises creatures that are now extinct; of them, at least 800 species have yet to be thoroughly studied and identified. Most, as yet, have no scientific name. ‘Through these creatures,’ he gazes lovingly around at his anonymous, ancient fishy companions, ‘we can observe the evolution of life itself.’
Abi Saad’s profession, just like his collection, has its own history. Almost a century ago, when the French Mandate brought scores of European troops to Lebanon’s shores, Abi Saad’s grandfather, George, a native of nearby Ehmej, made a living escorting culturally interested soldiers on forays into Lebanon’s countryside. In winter they ventured to higher climes, to ski in the Mount Lebanon mountain range.
Until around 40 million years ago, this beautiful, snow-capped string of mountains was exclusively underwater territory. By chance, Abi Saad’s grandfather, while hauling their skis, spotted a fish fossil in a loose piece of rock. He swiftly sold it to one of the Frenchmen as a souvenir, and began digging, with basic tools, for more.
A generation later, the hobby had grown up. Abi Saad’s father, Michael, fascinated by his own father’s burgeoning collection, purchased the land from which the fossils were emerging, and inaugurated a scientific society for their excavation and study. In 1966, he set up shop in the little backstreet behind the Crusader citadel. It was not long before six-year-old Pierre, too, began spending long days digging high up in the arid mountains. Soon, from his grandfather’s chance finding, a palaeontological career was born.
It might seem strange, says Abi Saad, that so many fish fossils should be discovered in the mountains. ‘They’re not flying fish,’ he jokes. Instead, he explains, most are 100 million years old, seemingly having died a sudden and simultaneous death. This was probably caused by ‘waterbloom,’ a phenomenon sometimes following heavy rains, whereby plankton covers the surface of a body of water, releasing poisonous substances and depriving the creatures beneath of oxygen. In a kind of aquatic rendition of Pompeii, many thousands of fish then sank to a watery grave, and fast-working sediment deposits preserved them in pristine condition. Continental shifts many millennia later thrust Mount Lebanon up from beneath the waves, where the fossils lay undisturbed for millions of years.
Not, however, entirely. The fourth century AD Bishop of Palestine, Eusèbe de Césarée, saw fossils here, and believed them to be evidence of Noah’s great flood. Medieval sources suggest one of the mountainside’s fossils was presented to French King Louis IX (1214-1270) following the (disastrous) Seventh Crusade.
There are still plenty more to be had. A dig today, 800m above sea level, is a long, hot and dusty affair. Excavations take place largely during spring and autumn, before the searing Middle East summer temperatures or the winter snowfalls make days on the mountainside impossible. ‘The excavation,’ says Abi Saad, ‘is the best part. The part where you need to use your intuition. There’s no electronic detector for fossils, so you have to go fishing just like a fisherman. You know the terrain. You look for the signs. You have to read the stone; learn how to feel it.’
Abi Saad sometimes stays out on the mountainside for stints of 15 hours when in hot pursuit of a new specimen. ‘Time flies,’ he says, ‘when I’m out there alone.’ Frequently, though, he has got company on the slopes. Dedicated fossil-hunters from across the world journey to Byblos to accompany him on digs, and he welcomes the uninitiated, too. ‘It’s quite a thrill to find your own fossil for the first time,’ he says. ‘Some people find it addictive. They come back again and again.’
Some highlights of the haul include a 2m-long stingray, probably the biggest complete shark fossil in the world (coming in at around 3.7m) and a fossil of a fish with a smaller fish – apparently its last supper – complete in its stomach. There are jellyfish, starfish and crustaceans, fish seemingly caught in a smile, a frown or a grimace. Some appear to be dancing, others socialising in great, busy shoals. Every specimen tells its own fishy tale of the time, millions of years ago, when the earth was a calmer, more marine, place.
Only around five per cent of the Abi Saad collection currently graces the shelves of his showroom. His dream is to create a museum in Byblos for his findings – mostly now packed away in crates – when peace and tourism become a realistic prospect once more. For now, though, he awaits those intrepid travellers who brave government warnings and venture out to this friendly, intriguing land regardless. Until the visitors begin to reappear in earnest, Abi Saad contents himself with frequent trips into the mountains, searching for long-vanished traces of an ancient, mysterious sea. ‘It’s my hobby, it’s my passion, it’s my job,’ he smiles, as he drives his chisel into the lump of limestone. ‘And the best thing about this kind of fishing? The catch never gets away.’
WHERE TO STAY
Mir Amin Palace Hotel PO Box 016780
Beiteddine Shouf
Beirut
Tel: (+961) 5501 315
www.miraminpalace.com
Hotel Al Bustan
PO Box 113764
Riad El Solh
Beirut
Tel: (+961) 4972 980
www.albustanhotel.com
Comments are closed.