Select a mare to explore its geology, composition, and mission history — or click directly on the map.
The Science of
Lunar Maria
Commonly mistaken for seas by early astronomers, the lunar maria are vast, solidified pools of ancient basaltic lava. These dark plains dominate the Moon’s near side and preserve a forensic record of a world that was once violently alive.
How the Maria Formed
Between 4.5 and 3.8 billion years ago, impactors ranging from tens to hundreds of kilometres across struck the young Moon at velocities exceeding 10 km/s. These were multi-ring basins, excavating hundreds of kilometres of lunar crust and creating depressions up to 1,200 km across. The Imbrium basin impactor alone is estimated at ~250 km in diameter. Each strike fractured the crust to its roots, opening pathways that magma would use for billions of years to come.
Fractures created by each impact allowed enormous volumes of mantle-derived basalt to migrate upward. This was flood volcanism on a planetary scale — low-viscosity, iron-rich lava poured across basin floors in successive sheets, each flow perhaps tens of metres thick. The process continued for hundreds of millions of years, with the youngest lavas in Oceanus Procellarum dating to just 1.2 billion years ago.
The dark colour of the maria is a chemical signature. Lunar basalt is rich in ilmenite (FeTiO₃), an iron-titanium oxide that absorbs light far more efficiently than the calcium-rich anorthosite of the highlands. Mare Tranquillitatis contains the highest titanium concentrations on the near side — giving it a subtle blue tint in true-colour images — while Oceanus Procellarum lavas are comparatively low in titanium.
As lava lakes cooled, the surface hardened first while molten rock drained beneath, causing the crust to buckle into wrinkle ridges — sinuous, low-relief rises that scar the mare surfaces. Contraction also created tension fractures called rilles: linear or sinuous valleys extending hundreds of kilometres, sometimes preserving the channels of ancient collapsed lava tubes frozen in stone for 3 billion years.
A One-Sided World
The Lunar Crustal Paradox
The dark maria cover 31% of the lunar near side but less than 2% of the far side — one of the most dramatic asymmetries in the solar system.
The far-side crust reaches up to 80 km thick — nearly twice the near-side average. Even the most energetic far-side impacts could not punch through to the underlying magma. On the near side, a thinner crust combined with elevated KREEP elements (potassium, rare-earth elements, phosphorus) kept the interior hotter for longer, allowing repeated volcanic flooding.
The origin of the crustal asymmetry itself remains an open question. Leading hypotheses include a second, smaller Moon merging with the far side early in lunar history, or differential solidification of a global magma ocean.
Reading the Chemistry
The composition of maria basalts is a library of information about the Moon’s interior. Three mineral families dominate the story.
The primary source of the maria’s dark colour. An iron-titanium oxide that absorbs visible light efficiently. High concentrations in Mare Tranquillitatis create a measurable blue shift detectable from Earth. The ratio of ilmenite to other minerals tells geologists the temperature and depth at which the lava originated — hotter, deeper melts tend to be richer in titanium.
The radioactive fingerprint of the Procellarum KREEP Terrane — a vast region of the near side enriched in heat-producing elements. KREEP-rich basalts are found predominantly in Oceanus Procellarum and Mare Imbrium. The excess radiogenic heat this region generated is the primary reason volcanism persisted here for over 3 billion years.
The ratio of magnesium to iron in olivine and pyroxene is a direct proxy for how primitive or evolved a lava is. Primitive, high-Mg# magmas rose quickly from the mantle. Apollo samples show a systematic decrease in Mg# over time — a direct record of the Moon’s gradual interior cooling written in stone.
Mascons: Hidden Mass
Many of the circular maria conceal one of the Moon’s most remarkable geophysical features: mass concentrations, or mascons. These are regions where the gravitational pull is measurably stronger than the surrounding terrain — strong enough to noticeably alter the orbits of spacecraft.
A mascon forms when a large impact excavates deep into the mantle, and the subsequent lava infill deposits a thick lens of dense basalt (density ~3,400 kg/m³) directly over a region of uplifted, even denser mantle rock. The result is a gravitational bull’s-eye detectable from orbit as a local increase in gravitational acceleration.
“The spacecraft experiences an unexpected acceleration as it passes over Serenitatis — the mascon is pulling it down.”
— NASA Lunar Orbiter Mission Notes, 1968The practical consequences are significant: spacecraft in low lunar orbit require periodic corrections as mascons perturb their trajectories. The GRAIL mission (2012) produced the most precise lunar gravity map in history, revealing mascon structure in extraordinary detail — including smaller, previously unknown concentrations beneath thin mare deposits.
Why Missions Target the Maria
The maria have dominated the mission target list for six decades. Their flat, ancient surfaces minimise terrain hazards, while their scientific value — a complete record of the Moon’s volcanic era — is unmatched.
Frequently Asked Questions
What are lunar maria?▾
How were the lunar maria formed?▾
Why are the maria mostly on the near side of the Moon?▾
Are lunar maria made of water?▾
What are wrinkle ridges and rilles?▾
What is a mascon and why does it matter?▾
Is volcanic activity on the Moon truly extinct?▾
Geologically Dead.
Scientifically Alive.
The volcanic era of the Moon ended over a billion years ago. Its internal engine has cooled. No new lava will ever flood its ancient basins.
Yet the maria remain the most scientifically productive terrain on any world beyond Earth. Every sample returned from their surfaces has rewritten our understanding of planetary formation, the age of the solar system, and the history of catastrophic impact events that shaped every rocky world — including our own.
The silence of the modern Moon
is the loudest record we have.

The Full Catalogue
of Lunar Maria
Beyond the five maria covered in the interactive map, the Moon’s near side hosts a further eleven named seas. Each preserves a distinct chapter of the volcanic record — different ages, compositions, basin geometries, and mission histories.
Mare Nubium occupies a broad, irregularly shaped depression in the southern near side, filling the ancient Nubium basin — one of the oldest confirmed impact structures on the Moon, predating even the Nectarian period. Unlike the more geometrically pristine circular maria to the north, Nubium’s basin was so thoroughly overprinted by subsequent impacts that its original ring structure is almost entirely obliterated. What remains is a wide, gently undulating plain of solidified basalt roughly 254,000 km² in extent.
Nubium’s lavas are among the lowest in titanium content of any near-side mare, indicating their source melt originated at comparatively shallow mantle depths where ilmenite is less abundant. This makes them compositionally distinct from the high-Ti flows of Tranquillitatis just to the northeast.
The mare’s southern boundary blurs into the heavily cratered southern highlands without a sharp transition — a consequence of the basin’s antiquity and the sheer density of later impact gardening across that latitude. The prominent crater Bullialdus, sitting near the mare’s centre, is a striking exception: a well-preserved Nectarian-age complex crater whose crisp terraced walls and central peaks stand in sharp relief against the dark basalt floor.
In 1964, Ranger 7 became the first American spacecraft to successfully image the Moon at close range, impacting in the northwestern part of Mare Nubium — a region subsequently named Mare Cognitum (“Sea That Has Become Known”) in its honour. It returned over 4,000 photographs in the final minutes of its descent and transformed understanding of lunar surface texture. The images revealed a surface far more heavily cratered at small scales than most scientists had predicted.
Mare Humorum is one of the more geometrically complete circular mare basins on the near side — a roughly 424 km diameter disc of dark basalt that preserves its basin rim more clearly than the sprawling, overprinted Nubium to the northeast. The Humorum basin formed during the Nectarian period, approximately 3.9 billion years ago, and was subsequently flooded with basaltic lavas over a timespan stretching to at least 3.3 Ga.
One of Humorum’s most visually striking features is the system of arcuate rilles — concentric fractures that curve around the basin interior parallel to its rim. These formed as the dense basalt infill subsided under its own weight, stretching the surrounding crust into a series of graben. The rilles are visible in even modest amateur telescopes and serve as a textbook example of mare tectonics driven by volcanic loading.
Humorum hosts a well-defined positive gravity anomaly confirmed by the Clementine mission in 1994 and mapped in high resolution by GRAIL in 2012. The mascon indicates that the dense basalt infill, combined with uplifted mantle material beneath, creates a gravitational bull’s-eye measurable from orbit.
In June 1966, Surveyor 1 landed in the mare and became the first American spacecraft to achieve a soft landing on the Moon. It returned over 11,000 photographs and demonstrated that the lunar surface could support the weight of a crewed lander — an essential data point ahead of Apollo. The bearing strength measurements Surveyor 1 made here directly informed the design of the Apollo landing gear.
Mare Nectaris holds an outsized place in lunar chronology. The Nectaris basin is so ancient — and its formation so clearly recorded in the surrounding highland stratigraphy — that geologists use it to define an entire period of lunar history: the Nectarian (~3.92–3.85 Ga). Any crater or surface that postdates Nectaris but predates Imbrium is classified as Nectarian in age. In this sense, Nectaris is not merely a sea — it is a timestamp embedded in the Moon’s geological timescale.
The Nectaris basin gives its name to the Nectarian Period of lunar geological time. Its ejecta blanket, the Janssen Formation, can be traced across hundreds of kilometres of the southern near side and is used as a stratigraphic marker to date overlying and underlying units across the globe.
The basin’s three-ring structure is partially preserved and visible from Earth: the outermost ring is expressed as the Altai Scarp (Rupes Altai), a magnificent curved escarpment that rises up to 3 km above the surrounding terrain and arcs for over 500 km. From a telescope, Rupes Altai is one of the most visually arresting features on the near side, particularly when lit at a low angle near the terminator. Nectaris itself is a relatively small, compact sea — roughly 350 km across — and is noticeably lighter in colour than Tranquillitatis or Serenitatis, reflecting its lower titanium content.
The mare was a candidate target for the Apollo programme’s later missions. Its proximity to a diverse array of highland terrains — offering access to both ancient crustal material and younger mare basalts within a short traverse distance — made it scientifically attractive. It remains under active consideration for future sample-return planning.
Mare Fecunditatis is one of the larger mare basins on the near side, covering 326,000 km², yet it receives comparatively little scientific attention relative to its extent. Its basin is ancient — Pre-Nectarian — and like Nubium, has been so heavily overprinted that only fragments of the original ring structure survive. The mare’s irregular, elongated shape reflects the overlap of multiple ancient basins that have been collectively flooded by younger lavas.
The basalt flows within Fecunditatis span an unusually wide age range — from roughly 3.6 to 3.1 billion years ago — indicating that volcanic activity here was episodic and prolonged. Remote sensing data show compositionally distinct patches of lava across the mare floor, some richer in titanium and some markedly poorer, suggesting eruptions from different mantle source regions at different times.
On 24 September 1970, Luna 16 became the first spacecraft in history to perform an automated sample return from another world — landing, drilling 35 cm into the Fecunditatis regolith, collecting 101 grams of basaltic material, and returning it to Earth without a human crew. It proved the concept of robotic sample return that missions like Chang’e 5 and Hayabusa-2 would later perfect.
The twin craters Messier and Messier A, sitting in the western reaches of Fecunditatis, are among the most studied impact features on the Moon. They formed when an impactor struck at an extremely oblique angle, producing a pair of overlapping craters and two parallel rays that extend westward across the mare for over 100 km with no corresponding rays to the east — a geometric signature unique among all lunar craters and a valuable natural experiment in low-angle impact mechanics.
Mare Marginis sits at the very eastern edge of the Moon’s near side, so close to the limb that it is only visible from Earth under favourable libration conditions — the gentle monthly wobble in the Moon’s apparent orientation that allows observers to peek around the edges. For most of history it was essentially unstudied, glimpsed only in foreshortened views that revealed little of its true character.
Spacecraft imagery transformed understanding of Marginis. It is a relatively small, irregular mare without a clear single-basin origin — more a patchwork of lava infill in ancient lowlands than a single coherent flood. The basalt here is moderately dark and compositionally distinct from the high-Ti flows of Tranquillitatis to its south, suggesting lava from different mantle source depths reached this peripheral region during the Moon’s mid-Imbrian volcanic peak.
Mare Marginis lies within the broader eastern limb zone that includes Mare Smythii and Mare Spumans — a chain of small volcanic plains that collectively mark the outermost reach of near-side volcanism. The region also hosts localised magnetic anomalies detected from orbit, the origins of which remain poorly understood and are a target of ongoing remote-sensing investigation.
Their limb positions make these seas challenging targets for surface missions but geologically valuable ones, positioned near the boundary between near and far side crustal structure. Any future mission here would be traversing terrain where the thin near-side crust transitions to the thicker far-side crust — a boundary that may be recorded in the composition and thickness of the lavas themselves.
Mare Smythii straddles the lunar equator at the very edge of the near side, centred almost precisely on the 90°E meridian — the boundary between near and far hemisphere. This limb position means it is perpetually foreshortened from Earth and was essentially unmappable before the space age. Its name honours the nineteenth-century English astronomer William Henry Smyth, one of the most diligent visual observers of the pre-photographic era.
The Smythii basin is one of the oldest confirmed impact structures on the Moon, formed in the Pre-Nectarian period over four billion years ago. Despite its antiquity, the basin is reasonably well-preserved in circular outline — approximately 840 km across — and was subsequently flooded with basaltic lavas that are moderately enriched in titanium compared to the older, low-Ti lavas of Nubium and Humorum.
Because Smythii’s centre sits directly on the 90°E meridian, a surface mission here would be simultaneously on the near side and within radio line-of-sight of Earth for part of operations — while traverses eastward would cross onto the far side. This makes it a strategically important location for any future near-far-side bridgehead infrastructure, potentially supporting relay communications and geological sampling across the boundary.
Like Marginis and Spumans to its north, Smythii represents the eastern frontier of near-side volcanism — lavas that reached this far east were at the outermost extent of the mantle upwelling system that fed the great western seas. The composition gradient visible in remote sensing data, with titanium content rising toward the eastern limb, may reflect the changing depth and temperature of mantle source regions across that hemisphere.
Named after Alexander von Humboldt, the Prussian polymath and pioneering naturalist, Mare Humboldtianum occupies a foreshortened position near the northeastern limb that kept it out of reach of systematic study until orbital missions could photograph it from overhead. Even then, its limb position meant it received a fraction of the analytical attention lavished on more centrally placed maria.
The Humboldtianum basin is a multi-ring impact structure approximately 600 km across at its inner ring, with evidence of an outer ring extending to roughly 650 km. The mare basalt occupies only the innermost depression — a comparatively small dark patch relative to the total basin extent — surrounded by a broad annular zone of highland material that constitutes the basin’s ejecta-modified terrain. This geometry, in which the mare fill covers only the central basin floor while the ring structures remain exposed as highland ridges, is characteristic of basins where lava supply was limited.
Humboldtianum is one of several lunar features named after Alexander von Humboldt, reflecting the enormous esteem in which 19th-century astronomers held him. His 1845–1862 work Kosmos attempted a unified scientific description of the physical world — a tradition the planetary science community has continued in the century and a half since his death.
Like Smythii and Marginis, Humboldtianum represents the outer boundary of near-side volcanic activity. Its small mare fill suggests the magma supply that reached this latitude was already depleted relative to the great western basins. Nonetheless, its well-preserved multi-ring structure makes it one of the better natural laboratories for studying the relationship between basin geometry and subsequent lava flooding — questions that inform our understanding of similar structures on Mars, Mercury, and the large icy moons.
Mare Frigoris is an anomaly among the lunar maria — not a circular basin-fill but an elongated, irregular band of dark basalt stretching approximately 1,600 km from west to east across the northern near side, at latitudes around 56°N. No single large impact basin underlies it. Instead, Frigoris appears to have formed by lava flooding a series of connected lowlands associated with the peripheral structures of the adjacent Imbrium and Serenitatis basins, exploiting the pre-existing topography rather than occupying a single impact scar.
Unlike every other major near-side mare, Frigoris has no corresponding circular basin beneath it. It is the only large mare whose origin is fundamentally non-impact — a product of lava spilling into inter-basin lowlands. This makes it a unique natural experiment in volcanic infill behaviour unconstrained by basin geometry.
The basalt of Frigoris is notably low in titanium — among the lowest of any near-side mare — suggesting relatively shallow mantle source depths. Its lavas are also younger than many southern maria, ranging from roughly 3.5 to 3.2 billion years ago, which aligns with the prolonged volcanic activity of the KREEP-enriched Imbrium region to its south. In effect, Frigoris may represent the final northward expression of the same volcanic system that fed Mare Imbrium, with lava flows spilling over the Imbrium basin rim into the lower terrain beyond.
The mare’s high northern latitude places it within reach of the permanently shadowed polar regions that may harbour water ice — making the Frigoris region an area of growing interest for future resource prospecting, as any mission to a northern polar ice deposit would traverse or pass near this sea.
Mare Vaporum occupies the central near side between the great basins of Imbrium and Serenitatis to the north and Tranquillitatis to the southeast. It lacks the confident circular geometry of a classic basin-fill mare — its underlying impact structure, if any, is deeply buried and ambiguous in the geological record. What is visible is a broad plain of moderately dark basalt that merges to the south with Sinus Medii (the Bay of the Centre) — the small, near-perfectly centred dark patch that sits almost exactly at the geometric centre of the lunar near side.
Sinus Medii’s central location made it the default choice for early landing site surveys. In November 1967, Surveyor 6 landed here and performed a feat no spacecraft had attempted before: after completing its initial science objectives, it briefly fired its vernier engines and hopped 2.5 metres to a new position, allowing stereoscopic photography of its own landing footpads — demonstrating the plume effects of a rocket engine firing on the lunar surface and providing crucial data for designing the Apollo descent engine firing procedures.
Surveyor 6 performed the first powered relocation of any spacecraft on another world, lifting off and landing 2.5 metres away under its own rocket power. The images of the vacated landing site showed the disturbance caused by the engine plume — critical data for engineers designing Apollo’s powered descent procedures to avoid blinding the crew with debris during touchdown.
Vaporum’s central position also made it a zero-point reference for early lunar coordinate systems. The Mösting A crater, a small, fresh impact crater in the region, served as the primary geodetic reference point for the Moon’s coordinate system from the 18th century until modern laser-ranging and spacecraft imagery established a more precise framework. In a literal sense, Mare Vaporum was once the place from which all lunar positions were measured.
The IAU nomenclature for lunar dark plains distinguishes between maria (seas), lacus (lakes), sinus (bays), and palus (marshes) — a purely size-based distinction applied by early astronomers that has no geological significance but persists in modern cartography. Lacus Mortis (Lake of Death) and Lacus Somniorum (Lake of Dreams) are the most prominent lacus on the near side, sitting northeast of Mare Serenitatis in the same highland-mare transition zone that also hosts the Apollo 17 landing area at Taurus-Littrow.
Lacus Somniorum is the larger of the two — a gently irregular dark patch roughly 384 km in its longest dimension, filling a cluster of coalesced ancient craters and low-lying terrain adjacent to Serenitatis’s northeastern rim. Its basalts are among the better studied in the region due to proximity to the Apollo 17 landing site, and orbital geochemical data suggest a composition intermediate between the low-Ti lavas of Imbrium and the higher-Ti flows of Serenitatis proper.
The poetic names of the lunar lacus — Lake of Death, Lake of Dreams, Lake of Perseverance, Lake of Hatred — were assigned by 17th and 18th century astronomers who saw the dark patches as small inland seas and named them according to the moods and metaphysical states they supposedly evoked when observed telescopically. The naming convention has no scientific basis but reflects the rich humanistic tradition that preceded modern planetary geology.
Lacus Mortis, smaller and more distinctly bounded, sits in a roughly circular depression approximately 157 km across that may represent the floor of an old, flooded impact crater. It is notable for the prominent rille system that bisects it — Rima Burg, a 130 km linear fracture that cuts cleanly across the dark floor, evidence of extensional tectonics following the lava infill. This geometry — a clearly bounded crater-lake bisected by a post-volcanic rille — makes Mortis one of the cleaner natural experiments in mare-basin tectonics on the near side.
The eastern limb of the Moon hosts a chain of small, isolated dark patches that together constitute the outermost fringe of near-side volcanism. Mare Spumans (Sea of Foam) and Mare Undarum (Sea of Waves) lie close together near 5°N on the eastern limb, while Mare Anguis (Sea of the Serpent) sits further north around 22°N — a trio of modest lava plains that, from Earth, are visible only as thin dark slivers near the limb even under the best libration conditions.
All three are small — Spumans at roughly 28,900 km², Undarum at about 19,600 km², and Anguis at approximately 12,600 km² — and occupy ancient impact basins or interconnected lowlands that collected the last dregs of volcanic activity as the Moon’s eastern magma supply waned. Their basalt compositions, mapped by orbital spectrometers aboard Japan’s Kaguya spacecraft in 2008–2009, show moderate titanium content that places them in a transitional range between the low-Ti western lavas and the high-Ti flows of Tranquillitatis.
These three small seas mark the eastern limit of coherent near-side volcanism. Further east, the geology transitions sharply to the ancient, unvolcanised far-side highlands. That the magma system reached this far is itself significant — it speaks to the enormous lateral extent of the KREEP-driven thermal anomaly that sustained near-side volcanism for over two billion years.
Their scientific value lies partly in what they are not: they have received no dedicated robotic missions, no sample returns, no surface photographs. Everything known about their composition and age comes from orbital remote sensing. As future missions — particularly from China’s Chang’e programme and commercial landers — seek to diversify their landing sites beyond the heavily studied central near side, these eastern limb seas represent genuinely unexplored terrain with compositional properties distinct from any previously sampled location.
