There’s a sort of intellectual cowardice that poses as “skepticism.”
Rather than engaging directly—asking questions, presenting evidence, or, which is often ignored, actually answering the phone—they resort to posting negative comments and let public opinion do the heavy lifting.
Jones suggested the anomaly might indicate a “ship passage.”
Currently, a prime target for this negativity is someone like Andrew Jones. His supposed crime? A daring claim proposes that a ship-like formation in eastern Türkiye’s mountains could be the remnants of Noah’s Ark.
Jones, who I recently talked to through video chat, is upfront about not being an archaeologist.
However, he is leading one of the most thorough surveys of potential archaeological sites in recent years, conducted by a team of experienced geologists, geophysicists, soil scientists, and archaeologists.
Since moving to Turkey in 2020, he has been forming partnerships with Turkish universities, navigating the often tedious government permitting, and gathering a competent team for this project.
In spite of all this, he faces ridicule online.
Criticism of Wyatt
Many critics seem to believe that the study of Noah’s Ark revolves around a single individual: Ron Wyatt.
Wyatt, once a nurse anesthetist from Tennessee, turned amateur Biblical archaeologist, has become a go-to figure for those looking to dismiss legitimate, peer-reviewed research on Noah’s Ark.
They forget that Wyatt has also claimed to find the Ten Commandments and the Ark of the Covenant. To critics, he serves as an easy scapegoat—just mention his name, roll your eyes, and the discussion ends there.
One oddity about this criticism is the assumption that Wyatt somehow originated the Durpinar narrative.
In reality, the site’s connection to Noah’s Ark was established long before Wyatt gained recognition.
The site was first identified in 1959 by Turkish Army Captain Ilhan Durpinar during a NATO aerial mapping assignment. A subsequent ground expedition in 1960 received extensive coverage in Life magazine. This was publicized and seen as a serious topic for investigation even before Wyatt came along.
Evidence Uncovered
The site in question is a boat-shaped formation located about 29 miles south of Mount Ararat. It certainly catches the eye. But beyond appearances, it resides in a valley rich with historical artefacts from Armenia and Urartu, including abandoned churches and ancient graves.
Jones mentioned that Turkish archaeologists recently uncovered pottery shards near the site.
“Probably about 50 feet from the scene, they found pottery scattered on the ground due to local farming,” he remembers.
One archaeologist dated a fragment to the early Bronze Age, which aligns with the timeframe one would associate with Noah’s Ark. “If one were to construct a Biblical chronology, this period would definitely feature,” Jones stated.
He’s careful, though, not to overemphasize these finds, merely noting they reflect a human presence during the era associated with Noah’s Ark.
These aren’t trivial details—they’re pivotal to the flood narrative. The Bible mentions Noah’s landing occurring in a region where, if the Ark settled in Ararat, the valley floor beneath Durpinar could logically house the earliest signs of post-flood civilization.
Now that the site’s location is established, it becomes a primary target for criticism.
Mount Ararat Debate
Wes Huff, a Christian apologist with a significant online presence, recently shared a lengthy critique of the Durpinar project.
He contends, “The site known as Mount Ararat has been named so since the 13th century,” and he argues that “the broader issue is that the precise location of Mount Ararat remains uncertain.”
This argument sounds logical, perhaps, to those unfamiliar with the subject’s complexities.
When the Bible refers to Noah’s Ark landing on “Mount Ararat,” it means something akin to the region of the Armenian Highlands. The Durpinar site sits squarely within the highlands. This isn’t a fringe interpretation; it’s rooted in historical geography.
The term “Ararat” in the scripture doesn’t denote just one specific peak but is a translation of Urartu, an antique kingdom that encompassed modern eastern Türkiye, Armenia, and portions of northern Iran.
“When I examined it, I discerned: the Bible interprets Urartu as Ararat,” Jones explains.
The Urartians are the ancestors of the Armenians. Their capital was situated in Van, by Lake Van, which is within today’s eastern Türkiye. The ruins are ubiquitous in that area, extending down to the valley beneath the Durpinar ruins.
The risk in suggesting that Ararat is fundamentally unknown lies in potentially dismissing promising sites before genuine investigation takes place.
Methodology Questions
Huff also challenges the methodology employed, particularly regarding ground-penetrating radar. His claim is that “GPR alone will not reveal what you are seeking.”
This statement has some technical validity, and no one on Jones’ team would argue otherwise.
That said, Jones contests the often-held belief that GPR is mainly used to bolster “sensational claims.”
According to Jones: “Many scientists, archaeologists, and geologists employ GPR… it doesn’t serve as the concluding evidence; rather, it aids us in understanding what lies beneath the surface.”
GPR shouldn’t be viewed as definitive proof; instead, it provides essential insights. It’s a standard, non-invasive method utilized by archaeologists in Europe and the Middle East before beginning any dig. Criticizing it for being non-conclusive feels somewhat like reprimanding a doctor for ordering a scan prior to surgery. It’s about due diligence.
Findings Reminder
Interestingly, critics rarely discuss what the GPR scans actually revealed. Currently, maintaining a stance of ignorance about the findings is a challenge.
In the 2019-2020 GPR survey, they didn’t merely perceive a ship outline beneath the surface; they mapped angular, right-angled structures that may suggest chambers extending along the formation’s length.
This investigation used cutting-edge digital tools to create three-dimensional models and share raw data with independent reviewers. Jones noted that outside geophysicists analyzed the scans and found several intriguing features.
Among them was a linear anomaly traversing the formation’s center.
Jones highlights the difference between mere observation and interpretation: “There’s a straight line,” he mentions. “Right now, I’m interpreting it as a potential Noah’s Ark passage.”
This anomaly probably signifies man-made work, given that natural geological formations don’t generate right angles. Rocks don’t randomly arrange in linear patterns underground. Such a finding would generally incite significant professional interest rather than mockery on a podcast.
Substrate Examination
Furthermore, data from 2014 using electrical resistivity tomography collected by independent researchers in New Zealand showed three distinct horizontal layers beneath the formation. The Genesis narrative describes Noah’s Ark as having three decks. While the members of Jones’ team aren’t vocal about this connection, the evidence itself is compelling.
In 2025, new analyses of the GPR data uncovered what appeared to be a central passage or tunnel within the structure, accompanied by side passages tracing its inner perimeter, and a significant cavity extending at least 13 meters down.
Additionally, Jones’ team partnered with Australian soil expert William Crabtree and Turkish geologist Dr. Mehmet Salih Bayraktutan in 2024 to conduct a formal examination. They collected 88 samples from 22 sites around and within the formation. These samples were analyzed at Ataturk University.
The testing revealed organic material within the formation, with potassium levels significantly higher—three times that of the surrounding soil—which is consistent with decomposed biological substances (notably wood) rather than mere inorganic rock and soil found in natural sites.
Yet, critics often trivialize years of detailed work by multiple experts, relegating it to simply, “It’s just GPR.”
Claims of Amateurism
On the other hand, Dr. Jeremiah Johnston’s recent appearance on the Michael Knowles podcast didn’t stop at questioning methodology; he suggested that for $500,000, they could conduct a more “proper” excavation, implying that Jones and his team merely seek attention.
It’s worth considering the assertion that the current efforts at Durpinar serve primarily as advertising.
Jones has devoted years to building a working rapport with the Turkish government, overcoming the bureaucratic hurdles necessary for every step in this investigation, securing official partnerships with universities, and involving archaeologists with over two decades of experience—experts who have made discoveries covered by the American media.
He’s brought together geologists, geophysicists, soil specialists, and archaeologists across various nations. He’s filed proposals with governmental agencies and awaits their response. He’s engaged in the painstaking, often mundane groundwork that serious scientific inquiry requires.
In contrast, Johnston was on the show to talk about how he would spend $500,000.
Geological Focus
Huff’s claims about the absence of archaeologists in the team are misleading as well.
The work completed thus far (GPR, soil analysis, geophysical surveys) falls under geological rather than archaeological classification. You don’t typically call upon archaeologists for magnetometer work; that’s the realm of geophysicists.
Archaeology is necessary when it comes to excavations, and this project isn’t at that stage yet. Archaeologists serve as consultants, prepping and reviewing. In fact, Turkish university archaeologists engaged in formal exploration recovered the pottery fragments from the valley floor as part of a standardized pedestrian survey, a typical starting point for any archaeological dig.
Critics want to hold Jones to archaeological standards while he’s conducting geological inquiries. Perhaps once he begins excavation, they’ll demand geological standards from him.
A Call for Thoroughness
Personally, I identify as Armenian. Growing up, I often heard the tale of Noah’s Ark resting on Ararat. Until recently, Mount Ararat was even mentioned on Armenian passports. This mountain is a significant symbol for Armenians, representing the birthplace of civilization post-flood.
I’m not asking anyone to accept this claim on faith—certainly not Andrew Jones. What he requests is simple: Let’s complete the investigation.
Sonic core drilling, which would ultimately yield intact subsurface samples, is pending approval from Turkish authorities and could commence this fall. The excavation will either confirm Jones’ beliefs or refute them. The AMT study will either show that the rock is in the wrong position regarding the natural formation theory, or it won’t. Geophysical data will either hold up or it won’t.
What critics propose is not anti-investigation; they haven’t presented any alternative data, offered competing studies, or engaged with findings regarding soil samples, GPR profiles, or pottery remnants. They haven’t even approached Jones directly for data.
Even if Durpinar is merely a geological anomaly, the evidence will reveal that, and Jones acknowledges as much. He follows where the data leads.
Perhaps the more significant question is: Why are so many vocal critics so intent on ensuring this data is neither fully collected nor taken seriously?
