JOURNEY TO ATLANTIS: The Seafaring Story of SeaWorld’s Would-Be Wonder and Waterlogged Adventure Ride

Risen Ruins

Your first sight of Journey to Atlantis is the kind of experience that may temporarily take your breath away. The truth is, Atlantis is exactly as designers intended: beautiful The towering, palatial temple is gorgeous, with sandstone turrets and aqueducts, oxidized copper domes, teal tiled roofs, and jagged oceanic rocks bursting from within. The building’s bridges and arches are covered in frescoes, murals, and hieroglyphics that betray some distant relationship with Greece’s Knossos temple.

Water-carved geology and sandbars with palms jut from the crystal clear waters before the temple, where a distant, hazy mist hovers as if from recent geothermal activity. A Greek fishing village set precariously along the water’s edge will serve as the queue. But weaving through these gleaming white villas based on the Greek isle of Thera, the dripping temple set among bubbling, gushing, trembling waters is a sight… This is a structure that tells a story.

Now the ride itself merely needs to do the same…

A news van parked outside the village seems to indicate that we’ve walked into a live news story, and indeed, throughout the queue we see reports of the city’s unexpected emergence from the depths as scientists, historians, and locals are at a loss. One person who seems acutely aware of what’s going on is a local fisherman named Stavros. The old man has a simple word of advice: “Keep out.” Something decidedly sinister lurks within the ancient city, and we’d best stay far away.

But where’s the fun in that? As our walk through the Greek fishing village leads closer and closer to the leaking city, our departure point comes into view: an old fish market where boats await our arrival… Our tour of Atlantis begins in those rickety old Greek fishing boats seating eight, side-by-side in four rows. At once, the boat drifts from the dock of Thanos and enters into the village’s streets at night…

The sunken story

Here’s what’s supposed to happen: As candles flicker in distant villas, a shutter opens revealing Stavros holding a golden seahorse, about two feet tall. “Wait!” he cries, “Hermes must guide you! Go, Hermes… show them the way!” The metallic seahorse brays, and then erupts into golden sparks. A branch of ivy overhead then comes to life as the golden sparks race up from the window and twinkle off overhead, leading us into the darkness.

Now, narratively, this is pretty neat, isn’t it? Stavros – knowing it’s too late for us to turn back – equips us with a guide. Hermes is goodness and innocence personified (perhaps it’s truly Hermes, the Greek god of travelers lending his spirit!) and he’ll follow us throughout the lost city, perpetually one step ahead as he fights off the threats within. Hermes will appear via 24,000 fiber optic lights throughout the ride, incarnating in his seahorse form only when we need him most…

Plot-wise? Great! The problem is, since the ride’s opening two decades ago, this very simple set-up with three very simple effects has never worked right. You may pull up to the scene to see Stavros’ window already open, watch his projection fade away, then see him fade back into the window with the seahorse in hand; Hermes’ lights may race overhead before Stavros’ window even opens; the door may not open at all. Watch as many videos as you like and re-ride over and over and over and you’ll likely never see the door-screen-fiber optics combo work correctly despite how simple the synchronization seems. And apparently, no one at SeaWorld cared enough to recalibrate and reprogram the seemingly-simple setup.

In any case, the boat advances out of the city, following the overhead sparks into… a black tunnel with fiber-optic stars. Alright, so it’s a little disjointed… A cavernous opening into the risen city or a grotto of waterfalls and geothermal vents might serve as a better segue, but it’s no matter…

Except that, beyond this tunnel of “stars,” the boat drifts into… the deep ocean. It’s a cartoonish coral reef lit entirely in glowing blacklight that doesn’t do much to make you feel as if you’re in the sea. Neither do the static, glowing sharks and fish scattered throughout the scene… As a matter of fact, the scene looks strikingly familiar for anyone who’s visited a “glow-in-the-dark” putt-putt golf course at their local mall. Nevermind that, spatially, it doesn’t make much sense that we’ve ended up underwater (on a river?) without going down. To be fair, this isn’t Disney, so such inconsistencies can be forgiven.

And anyway, up ahead appears one of the noted special effects SeaWorld has advertised. Beyond a wall of kelp and coral, a granite statue of a mermaid glows. Then, in a unique effect, an ethereal mermaid seems to rise from the statue itself, floating on a curtain of water as if the mermaid’s spirit was released from within the statue. (The effect actually works off of the simple principles that power the Haunted Mansion’s ballroom, though here the reflection is on a pane of running water.)

“Welcome, friends!” The mermaid chirps. “Do not be afraid… Come closer.” Before you can, Hermes zooms past overhead, reminding us to follow.

Here’s our next piece of understated story… The terror that lurks within the city is this unassuming siren, Allura. While sirens of legend delighted in seeing sailors crash among the rocks, Allura’s goal is simpler: to trap us in the depths of Atlantis forever.

As the boat sails on through the glowing blacklight reef, her disembodied voice continues, “All of this, I give to you… The magic of Atlantis!” On a distant, underwater hillside, the city of Atlantis – recreated in miniature – glows in a vibrant undulating gold. (Nevermind that this would-be Atlantis doesn’t look at all like the building we saw outside, or that it doesn’t quite compute how we can be looking at this mismatched city if we know we’re inside of it.)

The City’s Depths and Heights

With the miniature city of Atlantis still looming, we can look into the next scene: an city street inside Atlantis. Of course, it’s a ghost town. Right on the city’s edge overlooking the waterway is a pleasant stone statue of a woman pouring a vase of water into the canal. As the boat approaches, the face of the statue comes alive via projection… It’s Allura, laughing sweetly. But as we draw nearer and nearer, the laughter deepens and distorts as her face turns to liquid, melting down the statue and into the water.

Passing through the center of the city, fountains gurgle and jump, with laminar streams of glass-like water leaping over the boat (just like the gardens outside of Epcot’s esteemed Lost Legend: Journey into Imagination). Hermes arrives, peeking out of a central fountain with an umbrella in-fin. Theatrical lights activate, pointing at spots within the city where special effects must’ve been… but not anymore.

Directly ahead, one of the city’s fountains has a glass-like sheet of water falling beautifully from a stone basin. Behind the curtain of water, a projection of Allura’s face appears again. She’s saying something, but who knows what. This scene ostenisbly has audio, but it only works for a few weeks after the annual refurbishment. Your chances are much higher that you won’t hear a peep from the siren. Really, the scene doesn’t need it since Allura’s eyes begin to glow green and snake-like tendrils sprout from her head. We get the point: she’s the villain.

Hermes races past overhead, incarnating in his seahorse form behind a Grecian pillar, whimpering as he sees Allura’s nearly got us… He zooms ahead and races around the corner, as we follow beneath.

The dark lift hill leading to the temple’s heights appears, but Allura’s glowing green eyes above signal that bad news is ahead. As lightning flashes, we see her distorted, true form with gnarled fingers, fangs, and snake-like hair. The giant torso is static, but rolls toward us a foot or so as lightning flashes, not unlike the final appearance of the Carnotaur on Disney’s own Countdown to Extinction down the street.

But we pass beneath Allura unharmed and begin the ascent into the sunken city’s heights, her green eyes peering down on us… This is it… That great, watery plummet we saw outside lies dead ahead… Higher and higher the boat climbs, her glowing eyes growing closer and closer…

Then, two doors swing wide, blinding us with the Floridian sunlight. Surely we’re about to fall!

But no… We find ourselves instead lofted high up on the temple, the boat gliding along an elevated passage beneath sandstone arches. We’re concealed from onlookers behind the building’s walls, engaging with a second lift hill drawing us even higher into the city’s lofts. Certainly one of the strangest things out here is that the easily identifiable score from Beetlejuice is playing on the temple’s exterior… an odd choice given how synonymous it is with the film and how instantly recognizable it is. But the other strange thing is what’s not here. Water.

The boat is gliding through dry channels… The first hint at what this ride has in store.

At the top of the hill, the boat rounds the corner and enters into the height of the temple’s tower. A bronze chandelier flashes and seems to fall toward us. But your attention is likely drawn elsewhere: to the 60-foot dive ahead! The boat leans over the drop as Allura giggles darkly. The boat re-engages with a waterfall just in time to convince onlookers that the boat is truly a boat and not… something else, splashing headlong into the crystal clear bay below.

And while onlookers and first timers might think that epic splashdown is the ride’s conclusion, don’t be fooled… Journey to Atlantis has a twist ending in store… and this is where things get interesting…

The Twist

After our tidal splashdown in the lagoon around Atlantis, onlookers may be convinced that they’ve just seen the ride’s end… And while many flume rides would now head on to their gentle final turns drifting back to the station, Atlantis has a trick up its sleeve. The boat runs out its course and turns…

It crests a mini-lift and sails down a drop of no more than five feet, digging its nose into the water and producing the most dramatic splash in the ride’s arsenal. As it does, a tense musical note kicks in as Allura’s voice surrounds the boat. “Leaving so soon? I think not!” Her distorted laughter chills as the boat orients itself back toward Atlantis.

The boat engages with another lift, drawing it up into the side of the temple beneath sputtering ancient emblems. Drawn into the city yet again, we find ourselves in a claustrophobic, dark chamber of rust, decaying frescos, and tattered sails. This, it would seem, is an altar. The narrow passage is lined with flickering candles that do little to fight the darkness.

But a most unsettling feeling comes across you when you realize… you’re not in the water. You’re not even in a trough. You’re floating in the darkness…. atop a roller coaster track.

Here’s the ride’s true grand finale. With the tense strings of a descending score and a shrill scream from Allura (made, reportedly, by mixing a lion’s roar, a rattlesnake’s rattle, and a bear’s growl), the boat tips and slides down. The boat has engaged with the twisting, turning descent of a roller coaster, racing toward distant sunlight before hopping over an airtime hill and splashing down in a hidden grotto behind the ride.

This twist ending is perhaps the ride’s greatest strength… an enviable surprise that catches riders off-guard and leaves them chattering. The forested lagoon narrows as the boat slows, sailing to the right and re-entering the station.

As always, the experience isn’t complete with a point-of-view ride-through video that’ll give you all the visual evidence you need of this unusual would-be headliner. Sail through Atlantis here:

If you’re left feeling that Journey to Atlantis squandered a lot of potential, you’re not alone. After two decades of declining effects, SeaWorld finally decided to “fix” the problem of Journey to Atlantis… but trust us – things are about to get really, really weird. Read on…