Hawaii : Land of Lava

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LE Newsletter - February 11, 2010

Hawaii : Land of Lava

Source: www.thestar.com - Claudia Capos

(December 07, 2009) VOLCANO, Hawaii–Daylight fades as we descend into the abyss of Kilauea Iki

crater. The rugged trail zigzags through dense Hawaiian jungle of snaking vines and unfurling palm fronds. It is cloyingly humid. Our eyes and lungs burn from the sulfur dioxide and other volcanic gases, or "vog," that envelope most of Hawaii Volcanoes National Park.

After 40 minutes of hiking, we reach the crater floor, and the jungle parts to reveal a landscape right out of Star Wars.

The hardened lava floor is jet black and broken into massive shards. Our feet crunch and slide on lava gravel as we leap from one perch to another. Smoke and steam rise eerily from crevices, much like incense burning on unseen altars to appease the fiery volcano goddess Pele.

Here and there, green sprouts of grass and delicate flowering bushes lend floral accents to the desolate landscape.

A half century ago, Kilauea Iki exploded and left behind the 120-metre-deep lava lake. The collapsed crater is adjacent to the massive kilometre-wide Kilauea caldera, one of two active volcanoes on the Big Island.

Today, it's among the dramatic natural features that draw thousands of visitors to this captivating land of lava each year.

Lava seems to be ubiquitous on the island and comes as a surprise to first-time visitors who expect to see mostly palm trees. The ancient Hawaiians used the hardened rock to build temples honouring the gods. Their contemporaries have turned the black lava flats along Queen Ka'ahumanu Highway on the Kona coast into a vast canvas for writing their names and posting personal greetings in white rocks.

Hawaii Volcanoes National Park, established in 1916, is the best place on the Big Island to get close to the lava. About 50 kilometres southwest of Hilo, the 135,000-hectare wilderness area is also home to native plants and wildlife found nowhere else on Earth.

"One of my favourite parts was going down through the forest," says Charity Dennington of Little Rock, Ark., who made the trek into Kilauae Iki with her husband, Gary Schroeder.

"We saw an `io,' which is an endangered Hawaiian hawk, while we were descending from the upper part of the crater," Schroeder adds. "It swooped right down on us."

At the Kilauea Visitors Center, park rangers provide eruption updates and safety information. A 20-minute video film and detailed exhibits tell the story of Hawaii's volcanic origins and its lava-land terrain.

Geologists theorize that the Hawaiian Islands were formed one by one as plumes of magma (molten lava) rose from a hot spot deep within the Earth.

Over time, each successive volcanic eruption formed an island that was slowly carried away from the hot spot by the Pacific plate, which acted like a conveyor belt. Today, Kilauea and Mauna Loa continue the island-building process on the Big Island, the "youngest" in the Hawaiian island chain.

But they are not the last. To the southeast, Lo'ihi seamount, an active submarine volcano, is rising from the ocean floor, just off the coast of Hilo. In time, it too may become another Hawaiian island.

During our week-long stay on the Big Island, we spend two days exploring the park and experiencing its lava legacy. Our quest takes us to the Thurston lava tube, an enormous, nearly circular conduit created long ago by a raging underground river of molten lava.

We descend on concrete steps into the dark, dank passageway, which measures roughly four metres high by five metres wide.

Small, dim lanterns light the way beneath wispy roots dangling from the ceiling. Dripping water spatters our heads and creates shallow puddles beneath our feet. Around us, black lava walls glisten with moisture and echo with shouts of passing children.

To witness the devastating natural power of lava, we leave Crater Rim Drive and head down Chain of Craters Rd. The narrow roadway provides glimpses of past lava flows and defunct craters as it twists and turns on its 1,100-metre descent to the Pacific coast.

The road dead-ends at a lava flow, just past the Holei sea arch. Along the way, we come to appreciate the distinctive characteristics of the island's two different types of lava. "Pahoehoe" lava appears smooth and ropelike, while "a'a" lava looks chunky and more like large, jagged boulders. The Kealakomo overlook, midway to the coast, offers a great view for a picnic lunch.

To see lava flowing in real time, however, we leave Hawaii Volcanoes National Park several hours before sunset and retrace our steps along Highway 11 to the town of Kea'au.

From there, we take Highway 130 south toward Kalapana, or what's left of it. The historic seaside town was destroyed after being buried under molten lava in 1990. From a distance, we spot huge plumes of steam rising high above the tree line.

When the highway ends, we continue driving along a bumpy blacktop road posted with signs warning of dangerous fumes and admonishing visitors to travel at their own risk.

Around us, a thick black carpet of lava blankets the ground in all directions. The only indications of life are a few rough-hewn houses and trailers that have been erected on the devastated area.

After reaching a makeshift parking area, we make our way on foot along a roughly demarcated path over the uneven lava flat to a roped-in viewing area.

A quarter mile away, steam bellows up as lava escaping from a vent on Kilauea streams down into the sea. Visitors are no longer allowed to walk directly on the hot lava rock. One park ranger told us that the soles of people's athletic shoes often melted and had to be scraped off the rock using pancake turners.

The lava sound and light show doesn't shift into high gear until the evening sky darkens into nightfall. Only then is the red-hot molten lava visible as it explodes inside the steam clouds and bursts out into the rushing waves.

The crowd of lava-gazers erupts in "oohs" and "aahs" with each exhalation of this fire-breathing dragon.

At the end of the viewing period, we join the procession that files unsteadily out of the lava field, their bobbing flashlights resembling a sort of nighttime vigil.

The spell is broken momentarily at the parking area where local artisans and vendors have erected stands selling "Go with the Flow" T-shirts, colour photos of spectacular lava bursts and lava-tube marbles – fitting mementos of the evening's remarkable adventure.