On the night of March 8, 2014, Malaysia Airlines Flight MH370—a Boeing 777 carrying 239 people—took off from Kuala Lumpur en route to Beijing. Less than 40 minutes into the flight, its transponder signal went dark.

Military radar showed the aircraft had veered sharply off course, turned back across Malaysia, and headed out over the Indian Ocean. During the last few hours of its flight, the plane sent regular signaling “handshake” messages to communications satellites, as all modern airliners do. Recordings of the signals later provided investigators with indirect location constraints, but not a precise GPS-style position.

Then MH370 vanished entirely and was never seen again.

A dozen years have passed, and the greatest modern mystery in aviation remains frustratingly unsolved. For a while, though, one of the most promising recent clues in the disappearance of MH370 was an unusual one—not a sonar image or new piece of wreckage, but a cluster of barnacles.

In July 2015, MH370’s right flaperon washed ashore on Réunion Island, a French territory in the Indian Ocean. Researchers found that barnacles had attached themselves to the debris and built shells that preserved chemical traces of the water they had passed through, leaving something of a living record of their journey. To scientists, that meant a possible new way to track down where MH370 entered the ocean.

In a 2023 paper in AGU Advances, researchers led by Nasser Al-Qattan and Gregory Herbert showed that barnacle shells can act as chemical records of the water they grow in. As each shell layer forms, its chemistry changes depending on the temperature from the surrounding ocean. In the Indian Ocean, sea-surface temperatures fluctuate across latitude and season.

By reading those layers and comparing them with ocean-drift models, the scientists said they might be able to reconstruct some of the MH370 debris’ drift history across the Indian Ocean.

The catch? The barnacles the scientists studied were relatively small, so they only produced a partial reconstruction of the drift path. But if scientists could analyze larger, older barnacles from MH370 debris, Herbert said they might be able to look even farther back in time into the drift record—potentially toward where MH370 entered the ocean.

Meanwhile, the search effort moved back to the sea.

In March 2025, Malaysia signed a “no find, no fee” agreement—if you don’t locate the wreckage, you don’t get paid—with the U.S.- and U.K.-based marine robotics company Ocean Infinity, approving a renewed seabed search in a new, 15,000-square-kilometer area of the southern Indian Ocean. They picked the area with the “highest probability” of finding the aircraft based on the latest expert analysis.

The search ran in two phases—March 25–28, 2025, and December 31, 2025-January 23, 2026—and surveyed about 7,571 square kilometers of seabed.

On March 8, 2026, however, Malaysia’s Air Accident Investigation Bureau told the families of MH370 passengers that the search “had not yielded any findings that confirm the location of the aircraft wreckage.”

Malaysia hasn’t tied the 2025–2026 search to barnacle evidence alone. Government officials said it accepted Ocean Infinity’s proposal because of a duty to “pursue every credible lead” in locating MH370. The U.S. National Transportation Safety Board and Australia’s Australian Transport Safety Bureau also appointed accredited representatives to provide technical assistance.

Ocean Infinity said it left the new search area on January 23, 2026, after spending a cumulative total of 151 days at sea during its MH370 efforts since 2018 and mapping more than 140,000 square kilometers of seafloor. The company also said the end of this phase did not end its commitment to finding the aircraft.

While the most recent search may have come up empty, the science behind MH370 hasn’t stalled out.

In May 2024, a study in Scientific Reports examined whether aircraft crashes at sea can produce hydroacoustic signals that are detectable from thousands of kilometers away. Scientists looked at underwater acoustic data from hydrophone stations near the time experts think MH370 ended its flight. Only one potentially relevant signal showed up at one of the two stations considered.

The scientists behind the study didn’t claim they found MH370’s crash site, but rather, suggested running controlled experiments—like explosions along the “seventh arc,” which is the vast curve in the Indian Ocean that marks MH370’s last connection with an Inmarsat satellite—to test whether the signals could actually be linked to aircraft impact. Searchers have spent years trying to determine where along the arc the MH370 may have entered the water.

Then, in a December 2024 paper in The Journal of Navigation, retired University of Tasmania scientist Vincent Lyne argued MH370’s final two satellite signals are more consistent with a controlled, eastward descent rather than the long-standing interpretation that the aircraft ran out of fuel and entered a rapid, uncontrolled dive into the southern Indian Ocean. In the paper, Lyne called the commonly held theory “fundamentally flawed”.

The families of MH370 passengers and Voice370 have continued to push for more searches, because there may not be one miraculous clue that finally solves the mystery of what happened to MH370. Instead, the strongest evidence could come piece by piece: a barnacle shell here, a sound wave there, and a new stretch of seafloor that can finally be crossed off.

Investigators still believe the wreckage most likely lies somewhere in the southern Indian Ocean. For now, MH370 remains missing after 12 years, despite new search efforts and scientific studies—but each additional data point may bring us one step closer to the answer.