Dispatches from Volcano: Kīlauea Update, Monday, June 25, 2018, of Rainbows and Rockfalls

Itʻs a misty rainy morning here, the dripping falling waters recharging our aquifers and topping off my pahu wai (water tank), even as the ground and my hale trembles... weʻll get to that shortly.

At Keahialaka, unabated is the tireless work of Pelehonuamea. Māwae ʻEwalu, kahawai pele (lava river), ocean entry, plumes of noe uahi...all are active...

And again we acknowledge the peoples whose lives have been turned upside down by the varied and sundry works of Pele. We do the best we can to cope, handle, and live, and importantly, kōkua how and when we can. No act of kindness and compassion is too small. They all matter.

Ahhhh...Deeep breath...exhale slooowly...

kaluapele

convulsing shakes collapsing

lua hou forming

Weʻve read books and articles, seen pictures, and thought we empathized with those of the past who experienced what weʻre experiencing now. Of course there are degrees and interpretations of how "bad" situations are, and yes, theyʻre all dependent on our outlook and perceptions. Some panic, wail, and tear their hair, others take it in stride, and most, Iʻd wager, are in between. I vacillate, but try really really hard to be calm and optimistic. I can hear friends: Bobby? Calm??? Harumph! But these days, gotta try even harder to remain calm, lest we lose it completely. Like I nearly did the first Saturday in May when we had 18 felt ʻōlaʻi in the 4 hours between 4p and 8p. They were really shallow, very brief, but instantly violent, loud, and terrifying. Not so much the first few, but as they went on and on and on, more and more scared I got. Made a call to someone who knows about these things, and they explained what was going on.

All those ʻōlaʻi surrounding "Volcano" above on May 5, were the result of mostly-buried caldera-bounding faults adjusting to the subsidence of the summit region as magma withdrew from under Halemaʻumaʻu. Once I understood and was reassured, I coped a bit better. Jaw still clenched, heart rate accelerated, but it became a little more bearable.

And. Now. Subsidence, sinking, collapse of the floor of Kaluapele continues. Constantly, incrementally. Summit tilt on the Deformation chart on the HVO page looks like the slope of hōlua, the DOWN hill sledding course. Unnerving. But its constant slope is reassuring too. As long as the slide is steady, at least in my mind, I feel OK. Sink here, sink there, a little bit at a time, new kaulu (ledges) there and here, all part of Her process. I can handle. For now.

Yesterday afternoon, at 408p, literally, as I was typing a note to a friend, had a biggish ʻōlaʻi. Turned out to be a M3.9. Noisy shaky back and forth. Heart rate up there. I thought (silly me) that that was the ʻōlaʻi ʻōniu (exploquake) for the day. Those happen when gas pressure builds in Her throat because of a rubble plug. Eventually Pele clears her conduit in a paroxysm of vibration and release of gas and rock dust. Those are the M5.3 or so "Explosions" "No tsunami generated" things. I wanted, really really wanted it to be the ʻōlaʻi ʻōniu, but like the not-whole-pig in the imu, I kinda ignored the lack of ʻōniu amidst the racket.

Above, note that quakes seem to be centered on the north and east sides of Kaluapele.

Then at 412p, came the ʻōlaʻi ʻōniu, the "different" as if youʻre on a boat, almost levitating, figure-eighting of the hips motion. Double the excitement, arriving as it did four minutes after the 3.9. Try an ʻōniu: stand straight, good posture, finger tips on shoulders, knees bent, then move your hips, as best you can, in a figure eight. Shoulders and upper body should remain still (fingers on shoulders help achieve that), whilst hips rotate. Thatʻs kinda what an ʻōlaʻi ʻōniu feels like. At least to those of us fortunate enough to feel them. And yes, "fortunate" IS the correct word. Whatever we can feel and see of the phemomena of Pele helps us understand her work. Subtleties matter. Texture, sound, color, aroma, feel...all of it matters. Just gotta pay attention.

Like to the texture and color of the floor of Kaluapele. This, from the KEcam. Look closely in the middle. See that "small" broken dark area to the right of the arcs of steam? Look to the right (ignore the reflection). See that Big Sag? Iʻll hazard a guess, partially based on the pattern of earthquakes shown above. If tilt continues to decline, if subsidence and accompanying ʻōlaʻi will continue, maybe the rim of Halemaʻumaʻu will reach that dark pali iki (small pali). Itʻs a guess. Not a prediction. And of course, We Shall See. Who woulda thought?