6 Jan 2018
This morning I submitted to the Geological Society of London a paper titled, “The Younger Dryas Extraterrestrial Impact and an Historic Error.” The paper is found, below.
In addition to submitting the paper through the journal’s web-based system, I also forwarded the paper to the two editors with whom I had a discussion about the Geological Society of London’s obligation to correct the historic error committed by its president, Adam Sedgwick, in 1831. You may recall that they refused to retract the error, despite its pervasiveness.
11 Jan 2018
Update: Andrew Carter, the journal’s chief editor, decided not to pursue the article not because of its content but because of its style. SMH.
It is important to note that Andrew’s decision does not reflect on the veracity of the paper, which is found below (modified slightly so that the figures appear to you in an appropriate place within the text, whereas in the submitted document the figures are included in separate files):
The Younger Dryas Extraterrestrial Impact and an Historic Error
Abstract: This paper identifies the Younger Dryas (YD) cosmic impact site, and it discusses associated ecosystem effects. The findings correct a fundamental and historic error in geology.
To identify the Younger-Dryas (YD) impact and associated effects we must understand comets, and so we turn to NASA’s Deep Impact mission that probed comet Tempel 1 to determine its nature and composition. According to Deep Impact’s principal investigator, Dr. Michael A’Hearn, comets are porous objects, mostly open space, “unbelievably fragile,” and “less strong than a snowbank” (Wilson 2005). Though the object that struck the earth was not a comet, those comets that we observe are but tiny fragments of the type of object that did. Small comets like Tempel 1 are asymmetric, jagged, and non-spherical, all of which imply fragmentation. In addition, Deep Impact found no discernible, solid central nucleus in Tempel 1 (A’Hearn et al. 2005); such a dense nucleus would create spherical symmetry due to omni-directional amalgamating gravitational accelerations.
Other pertinent information comes from recent papers concluding that a cosmic impact roughly 12,800 years before present not only caused the YD effects (Firestone et al. 2007, Kennett et al. 2015) but also formed an associated layer of nanodiamonds found across most of the planet (Kinzie et al. 2014). Interestingly, none of the paper identifies the impact, something that we accomplish immediately.
The YD impact site and analysis
The YD impact remnants are found in the Southern Ocean southeast of South Africa, north of Antarctica, and south of Madagascar; the sphere’s impact center is in the vicinity of 57°S, 53°E. Figure 1 shows three Google Earth views of the impact site from a common, fixed perspective roughly 7,000 km above sea level: the standard map image (top), a bathymetry overlay (middle), and a magnetic anomaly overlay (bottom, Korhonen et al. 2007). The mostly submerged remnant crater measures approximately 2,500 km in diameter, indicated by the superimposed line on Fig. 1 (top).
Figure 1. Identical Google Earth perspectives of the YD cosmic impact site include: (top) the standard view with a superimposed diameter measuring 2,500 km; (middle) a bathymetry map depicting raised regions of IO-borne deposits with a superimposed circle identifying nucleus remnants (RGB color scale corresponds with highest to lowest elevations, respectively); and (bottom) overlay of magnetic anomalies, from Korhonen et al. (2007), that were created by the impact and its deposited minerals (RGB scale corresponds with the most to least intense anomalies, respectively). Magnetic anomalies extend approximately 1,500 km to the northeast through the “crescent” gap.
Entry effects that broke off portions of the fragile impacting object (IO) account for the gap in the center of the crater’s crescent. Minerals introduced by the IO with positive magnetic susceptibility were projected nearly 1,500 km to the north and northeast through the crescent gap by impact velocities and associated forces (Fig. 1, bottom). What appear to be parallel central scrapes emanating from the impact center (Fig. 1, top and middle) are actually the sides of a trough measuring 1,000 km in length that was carved by the dense nucleus as it skidded to the northeast. This trough corresponds to a band of intense magnetic anomalies (red stripe on Fig. 1, bottom) created from materials worn from the nucleus during its immediate, post-impact transit. At the end of the trough are the IO’s nucleus materials (circled region on Fig. 1, middle) that served as the gravitational sink needed to attract and aggregate the outer ice and debris layers in the Oort Cloud where the IO is likely to have formed. Back-propagating this impact trough indicates the IO’s Earth-approach direction, which is shown as the white arrow on Figure 2. Raised regions interior to the crescent are deposit mounds (yellow, orange, and red regions on Fig. 1, middle), remnants from the melted mineral-ice complex that comprised the IO’s outer layer. These mounds also correspond to regions of intense magnetic anomalies (Fig. 1, bottom).
Figure 2. Back-propagating the impact trough’s parallel central scrapes reveals the IO’s pre-impact flight path, which is indicated by the white arrow.
As depicted on Figure 3, the IO had a dense, solid core that was surrounded by a fragile outer layer. Having formed in the Oort Cloud, this outer layer was consistent with known comet composition. As the IO formed, gravitational accelerations induced by the solid inner core were less than 1% of Earth’s accelerations. Aggregations forming the IO’s outer shell of water-ice and debris made it more massive than its core, yet accelerations induced by the entire object were on the order of 2% of Earth’s (see Appendix A for the acceleration derivations). These comparatively small accelerations account for the IO being loosely packed, porous, and fragile; its gravitational accelerations were too small to act as a compressing mechanism. This substantiates A’Hearn et al’s characterization of comets as less strong than a snowbank. Thus, IO fragility accounts for impact effects being less damaging than what otherwise might be expected from a similarly sized yet solid object.
Figure 3. The impacting object had a dense core surrounded by a layer composed of water ice, rocks, and minerals.
Impact craters found in North America (e.g. Carolina Bays) have been attributed to a presumed comet strike on an ice sheet somewhere in North America (Zamora 2017). But there are thousands of similar craters found along the north-south axis of South America, hundreds of which are shown on Figure 4 (a list of example craters from both North America and South America is found in Appendix B). The South American craters are more numerous and dense, and they cannot be accounted for by the phantom North American impact. Instead, the craters found in the Americas were created by IO fragments raining down along its broad, pre-impact Earth overflight path (Fig. 2).
Figure 4. Several hundred IO fragment-created craters of various sizes are shown on this map, centered at 51.33°S, 69.30°W. The long axes of the larger craters measure approximately one km whereas the smaller craters are one-tenth that size.
Despite its delicate outer layers, the IO, with its impact forces, nonetheless shifted local topography along the western edge of the crescent by up to 150 km; terrain elongations are evident in the Google Earth images of the impact crescent’s western extent, shown on Figure 5.
Figure 5. Impact forces displaced local topography in the western crescent region by approximately 150 km.
It is likely that the IO was displaced by a binary star system that passed through the Oort Cloud roughly 70,000 years before present (Mamajek et al. 2015), was captured by our sun’s gravitational field, and was then brought into Earth’s path. Upon impact, collisions and interactions between energetic IO-borne minerals and terrestrial materials created the YD nanodiamond layer, placing the impact approximately 13,000 years before present (Kinzie et al. 2014).
With a diameter of 2,500 km, the IO occupied a volume of 5.58*10^9 km^3. Given that it was composed as Tempel 1, that is, 75% open space, 2/3 of its mass pure water ice (A’Hearn et al. 2005; Kerr 2005; Sunshine et al. 2007), then 1/6 of the sphere’s volume would be ice. Accounting for the slight volumetric difference between ice and its melted form, then the IO’s equivalent water volume was 1.29*10^9 km^3. To approximate the equivalent depth of water delivered, this volume can be divided by the present oceans’ surface area (3.62*10^8 km^2). Thus, the IO delivered an average ocean water depth of 3.57 km (more than two miles). The newly introduced waters flooded the planet, and they did so from the former abyss upward; the floodwaters did not inundate presently exposed landscapes. The IO’s waters created a new Earth ecosystem era, the Post-Diluvian.
Figure 6. With more than 3 km of water graphically removed, a model of land and sea distributions in pre-flood Earth shows previously exposed but now-submerged landscapes (tan), presently exposed landscapes (beige), and former oceans and seas (blue).
Figure 6 is an ArcGIS-produced model of pre-flood Earth with an estimated average of 3 km less water coverage than the present sea level. The model shows that, before the flood, formerly exposed landscapes (tan and beige) were more abundant than those submerged (blue); vast seas and oceans existed before the flood, but they were disjointed. Presently exposed landscapes (beige) were more than 3 km above the former sea level. Continents existed in places now covered by conjoined oceans. The importance of this map to reforming anthropology cannot be overstated.
Geology’s historic error
Geology’s fundamental belief that there was never a worldwide flood finds its origin in the early decades of the nineteenth century when geologists in Europe debated whether the whole of the earth suffered a deluge. Geologists set about various parts of the continent and discovered that diluvial deposits belonged to multiple distinct events. Thus, at its essence, the argument against the worldwide flood went like this: because there was no common event in the diluvial records, then there could never have been a worldwide flood.
Several key figures influenced the debate, among them the Reverend Adam Sedgwick, Woodwardian Professor at Cambridge University, and for two years president of the Geological Society of London. In his farewell presidential address at the society’s 1831 annual meeting, Sedgwick recanted his belief in the single flood: “The vast masses of diluvial gravel … do not belong to one violent and transitory period. It was indeed a most unwarranted conclusion when we assumed the contemporaneity of all the superficial gravel on the earth. . . . Having been myself a believer [in a worldwide flood], and, to the best of my power, a propagator of what I now regard as a philosophic heresy, . . . I think it right . . . thus publicly to read my recantation.” (Sedgwick 1831)
In drawing their “no worldwide flood, ever” conclusion, Sedgwick and his contemporaries failed to consider that landscapes now submerged might once have been exposed. Nor were they able to look into the depths to discern their topography and morphology. These early geologists assumed that the present amount of water has been with the earth since its beginning, thereby precluding the possibility that now-submerged landscapes were at one time exposed but were later inundated as a result of some unknown event. The early geologists’ precise conclusion from the evidence should have been that a worldwide flood did not inundate presently exposed landscapes. That a worldwide flood did not submerge presently exposed landscapes is precise and correct, yet it is wholly different from geology’s tenet that there was never a worldwide flood. Unfortunately for science, the early geologists’ incorrect conclusion became an accepted, fundamental belief. Henceforth, it is annulled.
Monterey, California, Pre-impact
Prior to the impact, what is now coastal California would have been continuously inundated by rains induced by winds uplifted by the nearly vertical and formerly exposed continental margin. Eventually those rain waters would be energized by the more than 3 km fall down the shelf, and their scouring interactions would create Monterey Canyon, shown on Figure 7. Identical processes account for the many well-preserved river drainage systems found submerged throughout the planet.
Figure 7. This annotated map identifies geologic features off the coast of Monterey, California. The image depicts three subaerial intermittent streams (upper right), several now-submerged tributaries, an oxbow (or meander), a turbidity flow, and the confluence region of two tributaries wherein the tributaries’ beds briefly lose their definitions. The system’s apparent terminus in the lower left is approximately 250 km from where the Salinas River now enters the Pacific Ocean.
The combined Monterey Canyon and Big Sur drainages eventually flowed into a collection basin near the system’s terminus approximately 250 km southwest of what is now Moss Landing, California. After its fall down the shelf, and as it neared the abyssal plain, the Salinas River system carved a prominent meander that is 8 km in diameter and located approximately 80 km from the present shoreline.
The straight trail left by a massive landslide caused by the collapse of the oxbow’s southwestern wall is also evident. The collapse was caused by rising ocean waters impinging on the riverbank that had become weakened as the river swelled with rainfall resulting from the cosmic impact. We note that the turbidity flow fell straight down the gravitational gradient and that it did not attempt to organize itself into other pre-existing flows in the area; in addition, its remnants lack any semblance to the other submerged riverbeds in the region. Let us note that the region to the left side of Fig. 7 is in the abyssal plain where geologists’ presumed gravity currents could not exist due to the absence of sufficiently steep gradients.
The confluence region depicted on Fig. 7 appears ambiguous or smeared as a consequence of river-borne sediments being deposited into rising floodwaters much like the formation of river deltas. Other river-borne materials that were deposited into the rising ocean waters account for the region’s sediment-filled channels (Fildani and Normark 2004).
The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) has obtained core samples from this confluence region. NOAA reports that the primary composition of the cores’ materials is terrigenous sands, and the secondary composition is terrigenous gravel deposits (NOAA 2011); that is, sediments samples obtained from the confluence region located more than 80 km from shore and now in more than 3 km of water are derived from terrestrial environments, not marine environments. Indeed they were: the sediments were carried and deposited by the pre-impact subaerially flowing river, and they were deposited when its waters met the newly introduced, rising ocean level.
The more northern of the two tributaries indicated on the right side of Fig. 7 drained what is now the Big Sur region westward and then to the north of what is now a seamount. This river’s course through abyssal region is somewhat difficult for us to discern on the map because, like the confluence region, it is filled with sediments. Since this is a relatively flat region (there is a 120 m elevation drop over the 40 km from the shelf to the confluence), the riverbed is smeared or ambiguous on the map because, like the confluence, the abyssal plane through which it flowed became filled by river-borne sediments deposited into newly rising ocean waters.
Encircled on Figure 8 are two valleys south of Monterey that are approximately 4 km apart. The horizontal and vertical dimensions of the two valleys are nearly identical, which indicates that they experienced eons of identical pre-flood weathering. The western valley became submerged by the IO’s waters while the eastern valley remains subaerial.
Figure 8. Two valleys along the Big Sur coast of California are encircled. They have nearly identical horizontal and vertical dimensions.
Figure 9 is an annotated map of a portion of the Salinas Valley in Central California. It demonstrates not only the local ecosystem before the flood, but it also reveals environmental changes caused by the worldwide floodwaters. The flat region depicted in the central part on the map was a pre-flood lake bed, and the former water level can be discerned on each side of what is now the valley; the lake’s waters stopped erosive momentum from collected rain waters draining out of surrounding hillsides. This former lake region was more than 3 km above the former sea level, so it was uplifted winds that condensed to create persistent rains that rounded the hills and filled the lake, and the lake’s waters would eventually drain to the northwest and then down the shelf into Monterey Canyon. The arrow on Fig. 9 points to the only post-flood stream in the valley. It is an intermittent stream, carving its way westward toward the Salinas River as it drains the series of arroyos and hills to its east and northeast. It demonstrates what 13,000 years of Post-Diluvian erosion looks like near Monterey, California. The dry lake bed (that is now known as the Salinas Valley) is testament to the dramatic change in the local ecosystem brought by the flood waters.
Figure 9. The arrow points to the only intermittent stream that has carved into the Salinas Valley, California, from the surrounding hills and their drainage systems. The Salinas Valley was an upland lake prior to the introduction of the worldwide flood’s waters.
Figure 10 is a photograph of the Monterey Peninsula shoreline region. Rocks in the surf, those protruding from the beach, and those well above the beach (foreground) show identical erosion. Furthermore, the rock formations in the surf are jagged. These conditions would be impossible if, according to geology’s prevailing “no flood, ever” paradigm, the rocks in the ocean had been exposed to pounding surf for billions of years; they should appear rounded, or they should be eroded entirely. Note the gray color of the uppermost layer of topsoil on the right side of the image.
Figure 10. Jagged rocks in the surf, exposed on the beach, and above the beach along the Monterey, California, coastline show identical erosion.
Figure 11 captures a feature found on the California coastline. The photograph was taken during low tide. Its central feature is a small rock peninsula topped by less than a meter of gray soil that is protected on the surface by invasive ice plant. The peninsula’s isolation from nearby soils and its proximity to the ocean can be discerned on Fig. 12 where its location is slightly left of the red x mark (indicates the location from which the photo was taken). This tiny peninsula is very close to the ocean during low tide and nearly directly above it during high tide; it is only 4 or 5 meters above the high tide level. The topsoil layer could not have formed above the small peninsula if there were never a flood.
Figure 11. A small rock peninsula above a beach on the California coast near Monterey has a segment capped by a layer of topsoil (gray materials beneath non-indigenous ice plant) that has yet to be washed away like its neighboring sections.
The isolated topsoil layer is easily explained according to the correct perspective that there was a worldwide flood: the layer was contiguous with and exactly similar to all the other topsoil in the nearby region (noticeable on Fig. 10, just right of center), including those from lower-elevation rocks that are now submerged. The common soil layers formed over eons of varying weather, but especially from persistent rains that eroded the bedrock terrain features. The soil layer was mutually self-supporting until intrusion by floodwaters removed the layer from formations in or exposed to the water, thereby making adjacent and partially removed soil layers unstable. Unlike nearby features in and near the ocean waters, most of the tiny peninsula’s upper layer of soil has survived the nearly 13,000 years of post-flood ocean and environmental activity.
Figure 12. The small rock peninsula in Fig. 11 is found near Bird Rock along the coast near Monterey, California. It is situated to the left of the red x mark, from where the Figure 11 photograph was taken. To get an idea of the scale in this image, the distance from the “B” in Bird Rock to the red x mark is approximately 100 m.
The topsoil layer that once covered now-submerged landscapes in the local region has been removed by the ocean waters, exposing the jagged rocks beneath, and the soil remnants now form portions of the area’s ocean bed. Knowing that former soils have been mixed with other pre-flood soils to form littoral ocean sediments should help submarine geomorphologists to better analyze and understand the morphology of samples obtained from such regions.
Other Pre-impact Explanations
The flood displaced the atmosphere upward, meaning that the landscapes we presently occupy would have been exposed to significantly less pre-flood atmospheric pressure because they were more than 3 km above the former sea level. An estimate obtained from models of atmospheric pressure versus altitude indicates that air pressure 3.5 km above sea level is roughly 60% of standard atmospheric pressure; landscapes roughly 5 km above sea level would have slightly less than 50%. Interestingly, a recent publication analyzed gas bubbles obtained from basaltic lava flows in Australia that reportedly solidified several billion years before present at what its investigators take to be present sea level. Investigators concluded that atmospheric pressure was less than one half modern levels (Som et al. 2016).
Figure 13 presents a Google Earth map of the Beasley River region in Australia where the study’s researchers obtained their lava samples. Also shown is the bathymetry of a portion of the ocean to the west where the drainages in the former basin ended at a common terminal depth, in this case approximately 5.2 km below present sea level. Rather than forming at sea level, the lava instead formed more than 5 km above sea level where we expect the atmospheric pressure to be less than half of present. Thus, Earth’s atmosphere has been relatively constant over the course of time.
Figure 13. A Google Earth image shows the Beasley River region in northwest Australia. The terminal depth common to the region’s many drainages, now more than 5 km below present sea level, is discernible in the former basin offshore to the west (left of image center).
Another recent discovery, that of a massive subglacial trough 300 km long, up to 25 km across, deeper than the Grand Canyon, and more than 2 km below present sea level (Ross, 2013), is easily understood in the context of the worldwide flood. Glacial scouring 2 km beneath present sea level could never have occurred had the present amount of water always existed, as currently assumed. However, in the context of the worldwide flood, the glaciers formed in Antarctica flowed down into the former abyss and subaerially scoured the valley over the eons before the flood. They have since been covered and preserved by the flood waters.
Coupled with the vast new waters and ensuing changes to weather patterns, the IO induced irreversible ecosystem and climatic changes that geologists recognize as the YD event. In short, the worldwide flood and the YD event are synonymous.
Conclusions and Implications
A cosmic impact nearly 13,000 years before present introduced more than 3 km of water to the earth’s ocean basins and ecosystem. By causing the submersion of vast formerly exposed landscapes, by displacing the atmosphere, and by inducing the Younger Dryas ecosystem changes, the worldwide flood forever changed the planet. The impact ushered in a new geologic era, the Post-Diluvian.
Geology’s prevailing “no flood, ever” paradigm is the most profound error in the history of science. It rests on an indisputable error: by concluding that there was never a worldwide flood, early geologists precluded the possibility that submerged landscapes might at one time have been exposed and later flooded. They assumed that the present amount of water has always been with the planet, and in so doing they passed judgment on landscapes that they could not observe. As a consequence, an entire branch of science has been fundamentally wrong for nearly 200 years: geology wholly and completely misunderstands the morphology of both exposed and submerged landforms. Only by accident might submarine geomorphology have ever correctly analyzed sediments derived from oceans and seas that existed prior to the worldwide flood.
The observations afforded by Google Maps and Google Earth and the resulting paradigm shift are historically equivalent to Galileo’s use of the telescope that led to overturning a prevailing yet incorrect belief, geocentrism. Ultimately, every scientific discipline must accept and incorporate the correct paradigm: there was a worldwide flood.
There are consequences to cosmology and astronomy. The smaller, irregularly shaped comets we observe are but fragments of larger objects such as the IO. Short period comets are very likely to be IO fragments. Our understanding of the origin and evolution of the universe could be informed by the age and composition of minerals obtained from the IO’s core remnants, as well as from the deposit mounds and debris scattered to the north and northeast of the impact crescent.
Newton’s law of gravitation and his second law of motion allow us to determine IO-induced accelerations in the Oort Cloud. The acceleration of one object due to the mass of another is:
a = G * M/r^2
where: M is the mass of the attracting object, r is the distance to that object’s center, and G is the universal gravitational constant, G = 6.67*10^–11.
From this equation we can show that the acceleration of an object near the earth’s surface is roughly 9.8 m/s^2 (first set of calculations, below). From there we can compute the acceleration at the surface of a 50 km sphere composed of a very dense material. Then we add a porous ice-debris outer layer like that of the IO and calculate the acceleration at its outer surface.
Acceleration at Earth’s surface:
Radius: 6,380,000 meters
Volume: 1.0878E+21 meter^3
Density: 5497.31393 kg/meter^3
Mass: 5.98E+24 kg
Acceleration at surface: 9.799088059 m/sec^2 = G*mass/radius^2
Acceleration at the IO’s core surface:
Radius: 50,000 meters
Volume: 5.23599E+14 meter^3
Density: 5497.31393 kg/meter^3
Mass: 2.87839E+18 kg
Acceleration at IO core surface: 0.076795361 m/sec^2 = G*mass/radius^2
Acceleration at the IO’s outer surface:
Radius: 1,250,000 meters
Volume: 5.23599E+14 meter^3
mass, 1km^3 water: 1E+12 kg
H20 mass, outer layer: 1.28779E+21 kg
mineral mass, outer layer: 5497.31393 kg
a_combined mass core+shell: 0.198841398 m/sec^2 = G*[(H20+mineral mass, outer layer) + core mass]/outerradius^2
IO’s acceleration, expressed as a fraction of Earth’s acceleration:
a_core/a_earthsurface = 0.007836991 = 0.70%
a_(combined mass core + shell)/a_earthsurface = 0.020291827 = 2%
Listed on Table 1, below, are latitude-longitude coordinates for some IO-created impact craters along its approach path. The list is not intended to be exhaustive; rather, it is meant to illustrate the multitude of craters created by IO ejecta. The term “eye” refers to the suggested altitude from which to investigate each crater. The “Comments” describe locations and/or features.
Impact Coordinates Eye Comments
40.6341N 98.0162W 7,800 ft Nebraska; might be difficult to discern among crop circles
40.4670N 98.0381W 17,000 ft Nebraska
39.1658N 75.8462W 3,500 ft Maryland
34.8719N 79.0371W 46,600 ft South Carolina, swarm of elliptical craters
34.8370N 79.1854W 20.3 mi South Carolina, elliptical craters
32.8604N 82.0342W 12.5 mi Georgia
33.4013N 104.0641W 40,600 ft New Mexico
34.6756N 103.9874W 37,500 ft New Mexico, swarm
34.8448N 104.1021W 45,000 ft New Mexico, swarm
32.2140N 102.4217W 30,600 ft Texas, swarm with one crater in someone’s backyard
32.5304N 100.6679W 17.5 mi Texas
26.3530N 97.7112W 28,300 ft Mexico
25.7206N 97.3893W 23.7 mi Mexico
20.3999N 87.4530W 37,800 ft Mexico; impact string visible at large view scale, running SW-NE
20.0234N 87.5228W 40 mi Mexico, swarm of large impact craters; some carved shoreline
19.1279N 87.8039W 16 mi Mexico, swarm
18.3340N 88.2799W 13 mi Mexico
14.4011N 83.3440W 13,000 ft Mexico
6.1710S 80.7380W 28,500 ft Peru; equatorial latitude impact crater
10.5931S 76.3234W 28.0 mi Peru; impacts in mountainous region
22.8193S 66.8091W 47,000 ft Argentina; swarm
34.8117S 61.6309W 20 mi Argentina
35.0281S 62.4160W 31,000 ft Argentina
35.8648S 62.3402W 32,000 ft Argentina; impact swarm
37.6990S 61.0177W 18 mi Argentina; swarm
41.2603S 68.0857W 13.5 mi Argentina; check out the drainage runoff patterns from ice melt
41.3549S 67.7267W 16 mi Argentina; swarm
45.1512S 70.6540W 24 mi Argentina; small swarm, some drainages observable
50.5908S 70.3878W 37 mi Argentina; large swarm
51.5756S 70.0404W 30 mi Argentina; large swarm
51.9179S 70.0099W 30 mi Argentina (barely); large swarm
51.7803S 59.1534W 28,000 ft Falkland Islands
53.6401S 68.2996W 40 mi Argentina; swarm of large craters