Mystical, mysterious, nature's marvel? Truth behind Gujarat’s so-called disappearing temple

I was a little surprised to read a story in Business Today, a publication that should have nothing to do with religion or spirituality, let alone superstition. Carried as one of the choices by Google News, whose algorithm decides which stories to feature, the story attempts to describe a natural phenomenon using terms such as "mysterious," "mystical," "marvel of nature," and "intriguing."
The story is presented through a pictorial representation in 10 slides with related "explanations." The title on the first slide reads: "Visible only for 6 hours: The mysterious temple in Gujarat no one can reach twice daily." However, the story fails to provide any scientific explanation for why tourists and pilgrims consider the temple a "unique and mystical destination."
I have visited the Stambeshwar Mahadev temple three or four times. Each time, we had to reach the temple before half of it became submerged in the seawater of the Bay of Khambhat. As the water began to enter the temple and submerge the Lord Shiva shrine, visitors would chant slogans of "Har Har Mahadev."
If you wanted to visit the temple again after the submersion, you would have to wait for around six hours for the seawater to recede. Once the waters began receding and the temple became visible again, the chants of "Har Har Mahadev" would resume. The Business Today story states that the temple's appearance and disappearance symbolize "the cycle of life and death, a key concept in Hindu philosophy, making the temple a site of spiritual introspection."
While the story acknowledges that the temple's twice-daily submersion is caused by natural tidal movements, with only its spire visible during high tide, it insists that this phenomenon is "a testament to nature's fascinating interplay with spirituality," attracting "visitors worldwide... offering a unique and mystical destination for pilgrims and tourists alike."
Visitors worldwide? During my visits to the temple—mostly with family members—I did not see any international tourists. Perhaps the story includes NRI Gujaratis in its definition of "tourists worldwide."

The story describes the temple as an "architectural rarity," stating, "Though simple in design, the temple's location and interaction with tidal forces transform it into a marvel of natural and architectural coexistence." It also claims, "The current structure is 150 years old, but the Shiv Ling it houses is believed to be thousands of years old, lending the site a deep historical and spiritual resonance."

Located in Kavi Kamboi village, the temple, the story states, stands "just meters from the shore yet surrounded by endless waters." It concludes by claiming that "the temple mysteriously submerges and reappears daily, intriguing devotees and travelers alike" and that this "unique" feature has earned it the moniker Gayab Mandir or "disappearing temple."

Nowhere does the story attempt to provide a straightforward scientific explanation for why it is called a "disappearing temple," despite the well-documented fact that the Khambhat coast experiences some of the highest tides in the world due to its unique funnel-shaped geography and strong monsoonal influence.
Across the Gulf of Khambhat, the maximum tidal range at different spots varies between 8.96 meters and 13.33 meters, with an average of 10.7 meters. Globally, the Bay of Fundy, Canada, holds the record for the highest tides in the world, reaching up to 16 meters, followed by the Severn Estuary, UK (15 meters). Other notable high-tide locations include Ungava Bay, Canada (9–12 meters), Cook Inlet, Alaska (9–12 meters), and Rio Gallegos, Argentina (12 meters).
During my visits to the so-called disappearing temple, I always wondered: Why do even educated people get so awestruck by what is actually a natural phenomenon caused by the geographical location of the Gulf of Khambhat?

Postscript: Is the claim that the Shiv Ling is thousands of years old fake? I don't know. But this is what Jugal Patel, commenting on link of this blog I shared on Facebook (I am offering translation from Gujarati), says: 

"Twenty-seven years ago, I had gone to a village near Kavi, and from there, I visited this seashore. At that time, there were no permanent structures here, only a small hut. When I asked an elderly person from the village, he said that neither he nor his ancestors had ever seen such a Shiv Ling here. But then, a sage arrived, the promotion began, and the lines started forming..."