On the Big Island, the secret life of lava
Kilauea — the most continuously active volcano in the world — is erupting, and its fumes can be harmful.
Less than a mile away, though, along the park’s Sulfur Vents trail, a colorful poster offers a different view: “Breathe the Breath of Pele.”
While volcanologists set up scientific instruments to study seismic activity and lava chemistry, indigenous Hawaiians see the volcanoes, dry lava flows and glowing rivers of fire as spiritual aspects of Pele, the hot-blooded goddess who permeates this land.
My trip was inspired by an urgent need to escape postelection angst and lose myself in a world where larger — much larger — forces are at play.
[...] nothing provides a sense of perspective like watching our planet evolve, a process that humans either watch in wonder or flee in terror.
“Pele, and volcanoes, possess a dual nature,” says Warren Costa of Native Guide Hawaii, leading me along the edge of Kilauea’s wide caldera.
At its center, an inner crater — Halemaumau, Pele’s home — emits a roiling plume, generated by the lava lake within.
Legends say that Pele searched the entire chain of Hawaiian islands, looking for a place to call home.
[...] the island of Hawaii issues directly from a “hot spot,” glowing below the ocean floor.
Warren Costa’s arms and legs are etched with bold black tattoos, inspired by the Polynesian heritage shared by native Hawaiians.
At one point he stops, bends down and picks up a gossamer thread of golden glass: “Pele’s hair,” formed when ejected globs of lava pull apart.
Some years ago a prominent local elder was told to evacuate, as her house was in the path of an oncoming lava flow (sometimes lava moves very slowly, only a few inches an hour).
The Hawaiian islands are being created as the Pacific tectonic plate moves over a deep “hot spot,” where magma rises through the Earth’s crust and builds one island after another.
The island of Hawaii is still active, and its mega-volcano, Mauna Loa, is the most massive mountain (measured from the sea floor) on Earth.
Ohia lehua, for example (a member of the myrtle family), is one of the “pioneer plants” whose tiny seeds sprout in the forbidding black lava beds.
When the two are separated,” my guide warned, “there will be tears — so don’t pick the Lehua off the Ohia unless you are trying to bring the rain.
With her glossy black hair and wide-rimmed sunglasses, Stephany might have been the fashion editor of a Hawaiian magazine.
[...] she is a kumu hula alii kahuna nui: a high priestess of hula kahiko, Hawaii’s indigenous dance, song and ritual.
Stephany opens her straw satchel and pulls out four sacred ti leaves and several baggies of colorful powder.
Wearing a leafy headdress, a shell necklace and a flowing robe, she is every inch the priestess.
The Friends of Hawaii Volcanoes National Park connected us through their guide service, and I am excited to visit the lava flow with a real live volcanologist.
From there we continue to Kalapana, where a 4-mile path bulldozed through a previous lava flow will take us to the ocean vents: the ever-changing openings where lava from Puu Oo — a cone of Kilauea — is flowing into the sea.
“I know there are two kinds of lava,” I say, surveying the wrinkled waves of dried magma.
The rough, sharp-as-glass lava is called aa — easy to remember, ’cause that’s what you yell when you try to walk on it.
[...] there is Pele, right below us: a neon red waterfall, cascading into the sea.
Glowing globs explode upward like sparks from Thor’s hammer, surrounded by clouds of incandescent steam.
After dark, over mahi mahi at a popular Pahoa restaurant, I ask Gansecki to tell me one surprising thing she’s learned about lava.
The radiant heat can be so intense that even when you’re collecting a tiny sample you have to shield your face.
Park rangers had just chased away some visitors who had ducked under the guard rope for a closer look.
During my visit, the lava fountains within the Halemaumau crater abruptly rose, while Puu Oo continued to pump lava into the sea.
[...] with its tireless “hot spot” still seething, and the Pacific Plate still in motion, volcanologists predict the birth of a ninth Hawaiian island, Loihi, within 100,000 years.
Jeff Greenwald is an Oakland freelance writer and author of travel books including “Shopping for Buddhas” and “Snake Lake.”
Built as a YMCA camp in 1938 and still offers community ambience and a great restaurant.
Extraordinary retreat center, not far from the ocean lava vents, offers yoga, hot tubs and guest speakers.
The ocean vents can be accessed by hiking (two hours each way) from the National Park, or by hiking or biking (rentals are plentiful) from Kalapana.
Book a guide through the Friends of Hawaii Volcanoes National Park (www.fhvnp.org), or join Lava Ocean Tours (www.lavaocean.com) for an up-close look.