For over 1,600 years, it stood tall against storms, waves, and time itself. Then, in a series of violent earthquakes, it fell. The Lighthouse of Alexandria—the gleaming wonder of the ancient world—was lost to the sea, its stones scattered across the harbor floor. Today, centuries later, a team of divers, engineers, and archaeologists is lifting those stones back into the light.

At the edge of the Mediterranean, off the coast of modern-day Alexandria, an international team has recovered 22 immense stone blocks from the seafloor. Some weigh as much as 80 tons. These ruins once formed the base, doorway, and ceremonial gateway of the legendary Lighthouse of Alexandria, one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World.

A Tower That Shaped the World

The lighthouse, known as the Pharos after the small island where it was built, rose under the reign of Ptolemy II Philadelphus around 280 B.C. It was literally a pharaonic project; a monument to ambition as much as utility. Its job was to guide ships safely into Alexandria’s bustling port, warning sailors away from Egypt’s flat, treacherous coast. But it did more than light the way. It immediately became a symbol of the city’s power and prestige.

Rising more than 100 meters, the tower was one of the tallest structures in the ancient world. Its design was layered: a square base, an octagonal center, and a cylindrical lantern at the top. A fire—likely fueled by wood or oil—created a light that could reportedly be seen from 50 kilometers away. Ancient accounts suggest large, polished metal mirrors, perhaps made of bronze, concentrated the beam across the sea.

The lighthouse stood as a marvel of Hellenistic engineering for over a millennium. Pliny the Elder described it as “highly celebrated.” But by the 14th century, a series of earthquakes shook its foundation. In 1303 and again in 1323, massive tremors reduced it to rubble. Stone by stone, it disappeared beneath the waves. Later, many of its remnants were recycled to build the nearby Qaitbay Fort, which still stands on the lighthouse’s original site.

A Digital Twin Rises

Underwater archaeologists first discovered remnants of the lighthouse in 1994. Since then, they’ve been mapping, photographing, and digitally scanning fragments where they lay on the seafloor. The latest recovery, the most ambitious yet, is part of the ongoing “PHAROS” project, a joint initiative of France’s National Center for Scientific Research (CNRS), the Egyptian Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities, and the Dassault Systèmes Foundation.

The newly recovered blocks include the massive lintels and uprights of the lighthouse’s main doorway and the foundation stones of the tower itself. Divers also brought up elements of an unexpected structure: a pylon, or monumental gateway, built in Egyptian style but with Greek techniques. Its origin and purpose remain a mystery.

Each stone is now undergoing high-precision 3D scanning. Engineers from Dassault Systèmes are creating a virtual reconstruction—or “digital twin”—of the lighthouse. The finished model will allow researchers to test competing theories about how the lighthouse was built, how it functioned, and why it ultimately fell.

Ancient texts, coins, and engravings are also being examined. A team of historians and numismatists is comparing these records to the fragments recovered from the seabed. The timeline they’re building stretches from the lighthouse’s construction in the 3rd century B.C. to its collapse in the 1300s, and finally to its dismantling during the Mamluk era when its stones were hauled off for reuse.

Why It Matters Now

Despite its fame, no other ancient lighthouse survives in any significant form. Alexandria’s was one-of-a-kind—a prototype that inspired all that followed. Yet its full design has remained elusive. There are no blueprints, and almost nothing is left written by those who built it. Until now, reconstructions have relied on artistic interpretations.

The PHAROS project hopes to change that. By creating a scientifically grounded virtual reconstruction, researchers can finally test long-standing assumptions. Was the fire reflected using mirrors or magnifying lenses? Did the design change over time? And how exactly did the tower collapse?

For Alexandria, the project is also a reclamation of identity. The city once rivaled Rome and Athens as a cultural capital. Its lighthouse—standing watch over scholars at the Great Library and ships arriving from every corner of the known world—was its crown jewel.