A day on the Volcano

Sunday August 12, 2007, 0600 hours, Kiluea Military Camp, Hawaii.

I am sitting on the covered porch of our cabin at Kiluea military camp (KMC). It is six am in the morning and the sun has just risen. To my left is the gentle slope of the volcano rising to over fourteen thousand feet. Behind me, about the distance of a football field, is the caldera around which the volcano national park was built – a several hundred foot deep crater with steaming vents on the floor – last erupted in the 1800s. It’s cool and crisp with a breeze. It’s probably around 50 degrees plus or minus but the breeze is making it seem cooler.

My fellow campers, Lucy, Rita, Justin, Alexi, Leonard, Brandi and Lenny are all still asleep and missing the best part of the day. Later the clouds will roll in and it will once again be difficult to see the heights of the slope or clearly in any direction.

I followed our GPS to the site and found that all of the old entrances had been blocked off and that you now must enter through the National Park entrance, necessitating a $10 entrance fee.

KMC is four thousand feet in elevation and you can feel the difference in your physical abilities by simply walking. The thin oxygen at this level will have you winded while doing only moderate exercise. In addition (while this may seem like a worthless fact), the effect of one ounce of alcohol doubles with each two thousand feet of altitude – SO – if you have a “mixed beverage” you will feel it much more quickly and with more potency than you would at sea level.

Yesterday, our day of arrival, we drove to KMC, checked into our respective cabins (the new Marino’s have a one bedroom by themselves and we have a three bedroom), then upon Rita’s suggestion, we decided to take a look at the “black sand beach”, Punalu’u state park. It was a forty-minute drive down the mountain to the coast line. Justin and I played with the GPS on the way down – the device has an altitude readout, which gives you your exact altitude through triangulation with satellites. When we passed signs on the way down, we compared what the GPS read and the altitude on the sign. In most instances it was within a hundred feet of agreeing, however, as we approached sea level the variance began to increase.




The beach itself was unusual. There was a lagoon directly behind it with lily pads and flowers forming from a stream that comes down from the mountain side. A small stand was set up at the back of the beach dedicated to educating the tourists about the sea Turtles, which are abundant, and held as sacred by the Hawaiians (they call them Honu – it just occurred to me that Honolulu sounds much like Honu – wonder if there is any connection to turtles).
As we walked around on the black sand and took photos, a couple of these large turtles, floating within ten or twenty feet of the shore began poking their heads up and looking around. We all had a good time except Alexi. She is so cute that everyone wants her in their photos and she is starting to rebel. Whenever we take a family photo shoot, Rita has to promise her a bribe like M&Ms or she refuses to cooperate. She’ll cover her face with her hands or turn around and face the other direction. There is a real dynamic going on here that approaches the celebrity / paparazzi relationship.

This is a very isolated spot up here on the volcano. The KMC is located about half a mile down the national park road that circles the main crater of the volcano (inactive for many years). There are two restaurants, one on the military camp (buffet style with mostly low brow food for soldiers) and the Volcano House, which is a hotel / restaurant perched on the edge of the volcanic crater, with great views from the hotel rooms and the restaurant. Volcano house restaurant was a bit pricier, but worth the view and ambiance. We had dinner there.
Everyone ordered dramatic drinks like the Volcano flaming something or other (Rita), so by the time we completed those drinks everyone was feeling just fine.

Everyone enjoyed their food (could have been the cocktails).

Rita got up early with me our first morning while everyone else was still sleeping. We decided to take a quick photo journey to the crater rim and snap some shots. It was cold and breezy but the steam vents were dramatic.

Rita was dressed in Shorts a light shirt and flip flops. She clipped her hair up in a giant clip and away we went. I was concerned that she’d be too cold. She told me that she was impervious to cold ever since we lived in Chicago. She says she used to wait for the bus in subzero weather. She remembes the feeling of pinpricks on her face during the blowing wind. I can vouch for that. I’ve been in many a very cold situation and that feeling of needles comes when your skin is effected by blowing frigid air. She says she is now immune to cold – and she must be to have blasted out here and not felt it. So while everyone slept, she and I went to the edge of the volcano.

The wind was blowing briskly and the vents were steaming. It was beautiful with the sunlight at a low angle and dew still on all of the plants.
Whenever I see steaming fissures around the volcano I think about some of the science programs I’ve seen. They talk about how many times hydrochloric acid forms from these vents and at times poisonous gases have killed people unknowingly. I wonder how they decided that THIS volcano was so safe.

The next day while visiting the observatory, I walked up to the seismograph they had on display. As there have been several earthquakes and a major change in direction of lava flow since father's day, the volcano is currently very active. I watched the seismograph machine begin logging a big reaction on it's paper graph. I thought, oh no, here comes an earthquake. Turns out the seismograph was only logging the floor in front of it and anyone passing by. Rita and Lucy decided to create a 9.5on the richter scale in this photo.

During our first drive through of the park, while looking for the actual entrance to KMC, we made a wrong turn and ended up in a residential area. As we were driving we were listening to the AM radio broadcast of the park service about special notices within the park. As we were driving back to the main road to get back on track, we had to slow to allow a walking bird with her brood to cross in front of us. We had just been listening to a caution on the radio to look out for the Hawaiian endangered species - the NeNe (pronounced Nay Nay). They gave a running count - "there have been 7 NeNe killed thus far this year by motorists".
I personally think that the NeNe is like the Snipe. When I was a kid and had just joined the boyscouts, a rite of passage within the boyscouts was the "snipe hunt". You would be put out in the woods with a burlap bag and were to hold the bag open near the ground while making strange hooting noises to attract the snipe. when the snipe ran into the bag you were to close it and return to camp. After spending the night in the dark woods, you were told there is no such thing as a snipe. MANY a boyscout went through the ritual. My personal belief is that there is NO SUCH THING as a NENE. It was invented by the park service to get drivers to drive slowly while watching for them. HOWEVER, Lenny was actually able to reproduce verbally the "call of the NeNe" that he said he'd heard on the discovery channel. Of course that was after we all had coctails that evening. In his defense, Lenny didn't drink at all. so I leave it up to you as to whether there actually is such a thing as the NeNe.