Up here, a few miles from Halemaʻumaʻu, we wondered, prayed, but ultimately resigned ourselves: No one could know or predict what the future would hold. Would the lūʻōniu, those collapse events, continue? When would the ōlaʻi, the earthquakes, tens felt daily...when would they stop? When would life be "normal"?
At 1155am on August 2, 2018, we experienced what in retrospect would be the last lūʻōniu. That oddly sinuous and unsettling wobbling, reminiscent of an ʻami ʻōniu in hula, when ones hips rotate in a figure-eight. The "lū" refers to the physical shaking, as well as the scattering of ash through the air during the event. Weʻd had 62 of them, and for me, each, when they eventually happened, was greeted with a sigh of relief: OK...for a few (or several) hours we could relax, perhaps sleep, or whatever...
In retrospect... Shoulda, woulda, coulda... But when one is in the throes, or pretending to be blase or calm, we canʻt know. My reaction now, is that any ōlaʻi, no matter the size, causes the heart to race. Jaw clenched, breath inhaled, whistling through teeth, wondering...again??? Really???
And of course life goes on. We figure out how to deal with it.
Fortuitously, the HVO webcam image below was captured during the last lūʻōniu, on August 2, 2018. Rocks tumbled down fault scarps, just weeks old and unstable. Ash and pulverized rockclouds rose and were wafted by tradewinds.
Too, they have information related to the water lake first observed on the floor of Halemaʻumaʻu about a year ago:
Said lake continues to deepen by about 2.5 feet per week, as the local groundwater table slowly seeks equilibrium with the recently deepened Halemaʻumaʻu. You know when you go beach? And youʻre sitting on wet sand barely above the wash of the waves, and you start digging with your hand(s), either idly or with intent...and the lua (pit) you create slowly starts filling with water? Like that. But except on a much grander (and hotter) scale.
lava or water
Pele or Hiʻiaka
itʻs all family
Canʻt resist a haiku... I posted before how, in a version of the tale of Hiʻiakaikapoliopele, a younger sister of Pelehonuamea, Hiʻiaka sought revenge after Pele killed Lohiauipo, Hiʻiakaʻs lover. Pele caused him to be buried by her pele (lava), and Hiʻiaka began to dig through various strata, seeking water to extinguish the fires of Pele.
And then...
Fortunately, Hiʻiaka was not able to dig deep enough to completely and catastrophically extinguish pele, and only time will tell whether or not their battle will resume.
In the meantime, Pelehonuamea continues her work out of sight, but not out of mind. Yesterday:
Out on the Southwest Rift Zone of Kīlauea, close to the town of Pāhala, there have been deep rumblings for many months now. Mostly, those ōlaʻi are too small to feel, but there are fairly regular PTSD-inducing 4.0+ temblors, felt as light shaking up here. Apparently this all has to do with deep magma transport... 20 miles or so down. Not entirely reassuring, but what you going do???
This morning, skies are partly cloudy and clear of ash, breezes light...
Iʻm grateful for the still-functioning webcams in the tower at the now-abandoned HVO...and too, grateful that Iʻm still able to share with you folks. Be well, be vigilant, wear your mask, and be kind.
As always, with aloha,
BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com
