Oceania: Day 5: 7-7-94: Hawaii: A Hot Time In Hilo (Kilauea Volcano Adventure)

The 7th? What the Hell did I do on the 7th?! (Unfortunately, it is now the 9th, and I've fallen a tad behind in my journal writing) Oh yeah. Now I remember. I got up bright and early (surprise, surprise), packed everything up and met Nicole at the front desk, where we turned in our keys. The airport shuttle came right on time, and Nicole and I said "aloha" to Waikiki (and the ubiquitous ABC stores -- a 7-11 type chain of establishments that we had often frequented). We arrived at the airport without any fanfare, and Nicole and I said our final farewells. There was a brief moment of excitement when the back door of the van jammed (a bag fell onto the lock), trapping our luggage between the door and the mesh grating bolted to the rear seat, but we eventually got it open.

Entering the airport, I headed over to the Hawaiian Air counter, where I purchased a 5-day Inter-Island Airpass. Before I knew it, I was on a small plane traveling to Hilo, Hawaii ("The Big Island").

Upon my arrival in Hilo, I looked in my handy-dandy Lonely Planet guidebook for a relatively cheap place to stay. The first place mentioned in the book was Arnott's Lodge, so I gave it a shot. I called up the lodge and the manager told me there was indeed "room at the inn." Moreover, he made my day when he informed that there was no curfew, the cost was only $15 a night, the lodge provided free transportation to and from the airport and they sponsored different adventurous trips each day -- including today's planned journey to Kilauea, the only actively erupting volcano in all of Hawaii. Awesome! (Editor's Note: I later came to see what a truly golden find Arnott's Lodge was -- in fact, the facilities would prove to be so affordably comfortable and the expeditions so cool that my intended one-day stay turned into three.)

The van soon came to pick me up at the airport. I met one of the assistant managers (Alex), who was driving. He told me that Mr. Arnott was a millionaire from Australia (owner of Arnott's Biscuits) who set up the lodge to assist backpackers.

When I got to Arnott's, I met two other assistant managers (Cary and Tony). They helped me sign up for the trip to the Kilauea Volcano and introduced me to my fellow travelers: the group included Mr. and Mrs. Shaw (a couple of teachers [he from Britain, she from France] who met in England, fell in love and moved to Hong Kong); the Shaw's two children (Tom [16] and Emily [12]); and Marcus (a 19-year-old backpacker from Austria, who was planning to work in the states for a year). Tony informed us that he would be our tour guide.

We hopped in the van and sped off. . .

The day was simply incredible!

As soon as we arrived at the outskirts of the eruption perimeter, patches of igneous rock began cropping up amidst the grass and tropical plants passing by my window. Within minutes, the entire surrounding area morphed into a solid sheet of hardened lava -- a black desert: it was lifeless, barren and still (save for some scattered spouts of steam that were escaping the bowels of the Earth through surface cracks). As I stepped out of the vehicle and walked across the moon-like caldera, I felt as Neil Armstrong must have, exploring the lunar landscape for the first time. I collected some geological samples and took a fair number of photos (I think I got a really nice shot of a rainbow rising over the caldera).

---------------------------------Caldera Photo Op-----------------------------

Next, it was off to the Thurston Lava Tube. A lava tube is formed when molten magma bores a tunnel up through the Earth and then drains away. The first part of the lava tube was illuminated so that tourists could explore the opening. We walked together as a group for 150 meters or so, until it became pitch black. At this point, Marcus and I (who had flashlights) asked Tony if we could explore a little deeper whilst he and the Shaw family returned to the entrance. He agreed, so we flicked on the flashlights and continued traveling until we hit a dead end, roughly 350 meters further down. (On the walk back, Marcus and I agreed the "extended tour" had been worth it -- with no one else around, surrounded by darkness and a palpable sense of danger [we noticed several piles of rubble from various cave-ins], we had felt like daring spelunkers discovering a new cavern.

We hopped back in the van and went to the small volcano museum, which sits above the Halemaumau Crater (which is actually a crater within a crater). We proceeded to drive down near Halemaumau, where we had a chance to hike to the rim and peer down its awesome depths.

------------------------------Halemaumau Crater------------------------------

Soon, we were off again. This time we ventured to an overlook, where I saw a "natural bridge" carved out of the mountainside (over the centuries, the merciless pounding of the South Pacific surf had eroded a path right through the rock).

-------------------------------The "Natural Bridge"----------------------------

I also got my first glimpse of one of Hawaii's famed black-sand beaches -- the contrast of the alabaster ocean foam crawling up the ebony seashore was visually arresting.

----------------------------------Black Sand Beach-----------------------------

By this time, it was getting dark, and we were rapidly approaching the moment I had been lusting after (indeed, the only reason I came to Hilo in the first place) -- seeing live volcanic activity in the form of the Kilauea lava flow, a flow which started ten years ago and could end at any time (though hopefully, not tonight!).

As we made our way down to the flow, Tony taught us a little about Hawaii's volcanoes. He said that all of the Hawaiian Islands are products of volcanoes, and Kilauea & Mauna Loa, historically two of the world's most active volcanoes, are still adding land to Hawaii.

It took us about a half hour to reach the lava flow site, and by the time we got there, I was chomping at the bit. Ropes, pylons and posted warning signs held back onlookers about a quarter mile from the action. This wasn't close enough for me. I told Marcus that I was going to try to get as close to the lava flow as I could, and he was eager to join me. From our position behind the ropes, I could see an orange glow spewing out billows of steam -- it seemed more like a combination of a bonfire and a geyser than a volcano. Every so often, the lava would shoot up, and then you would know what you were truly dealing with. I was informed that the clouds of hot steam were caused by the lava flowing directly into the ocean. Whatever the reason behind their progeniture, might I say they gave off quite an offensive sulfuric stench (Tony told us the steam was actually a mixture of several poisonous gases [lovely]). It was impressive to watch this act of creation from afar, but I still wanted more.

Marcus and I slipped past the crowd and started our volcanic adventure. At first, it was easy going, and I laughed at the craven fools who hid behind the ropes. But the landscape gradually changed, becoming increasingly hazardous (and wondrous) with each step. The hard, stable, aged lava rock gave way to more recent formations which were amazing to behold -- knotted, ophidian rivers, tall hills and deep valleys -- but relatively fragile and unpredictable (the analogy which came to mind was "thin ice"). Several times, without warning, the brittle lava rock crunched and broke away below my feet, causing my heart to skip a beat and my mind to seriously consider turning back, as all of the few other rope-ducking tourists had already done. (In truth, the danger was immense [hence the rope and warning signs]: if I happened to step on a patch of rock just a little more unstable than the rest, I could fall right through and get trapped in a deep crevice [or worse yet, a seething cauldron of molten lava] -- why, just a year ago, an unfortunate tourist had been killed when the entire beach front, newly formed by the lava, simply collapsed!) But then I'd look at the natural wonder coming closer into view, realize anew how this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and continue on, despite my misgivings.

Slowly, but surely, Marcus and I made our way closer to the mouth of the lava flow. We now faced a final decision: should we throw any remaining caution to the wind and climb down onto the black sand beach directly in the path of the molten stream, or should we head back, considering ourselves "close enough"? Need I say which we chose?!

As soon as we set foot on the beach, the first thing we noticed (not surprisingly) was how hot it was -- the air and sand conducted much of the estimated 1500-degree heat emanating from the lava. It was also rather difficult (not to mention, unpleasant) to breathe. But I soon forgot my discomfort as I stared at the lava flow, now only 20 feet away -- it was nothing short of awe-inspiring! I snapped a few photos and suggested that we go even closer. Marcus took a picture of me, and I of him, only 6 feet from the lava.




----------------------------Marcus At The Lava Flow-------------------------

And I ventured as close as 3 feet for a close up shot (my hands started burning as I bent down and leaned in to take the picture).


-------------------------------------Hot Stuff!--------------------------------------

The sand at this proximity was scorching hot, and I was worried that the rubber on the soles of my hiking boots might actually begin to melt. Moreover, the surf was coming in farther and stronger with each progressive wave, and there was a danger that the same process that created the black sand beach (the molten lava literally explodes into millions of tiny pieces when the water strikes it) could really ruin our day. So Marcus and I finally decided to head back, but not without taking a few longing glances over our baked shoulders.

Safely back behind the ropes, Marcus and I had an hour to converse and get to know each other better. His English was borderline and my Austrian non-existent, so it took a good deal of effort and time to communicate. But it was well worth it. We laughed and exchanged stories and tidbits well into the night, as the volcanic pyre glowed ahead of us, off in the distance.