Kaluapele

On the Island of Hawaiʻi, Kaluapele (the pit of pele or Pele) crowns the summit region of the volcano Kīlauea.

28 August 2018

Kīlauea Update, Tuesday, August 28, 2018, Number One Hundred...

Sunʻs out!  I wonder if I might stop holding my breath.  More rains?  Will Pele continue to rest?  What to do?  The sensible, prudent thing, I suppose, is to live life to the fullest, as best we can.  And so I shall.

One Hundred.  A hundred blogs...how did that happen?  One settles into a groove, a pattern, and just keeps going...like the Energizer Bunny...apropos for a Rabbit Year guy.

One thing I havenʻt been doing is responding to Comments posted.  I forget to look, I forget to reply, life gets in the way sometimes...But Billy Richards posted a Comment yesterday on the Sunday, August 26th post.  His comment is regarding ʻAilāʻau and "Old Lava"...

Iʻve talked about ʻAilāʻau and about old lava...and yes, there are those thinking that the elemental force driving pele in Keahialaka is the old guard...ʻAilāʻau, who inhabited Kīlauea Iki until he fled when Pele and her family arrived.  This wouldʻve been several hundred years ago.

The "old lava" erupted at the beginning of this eruption refers to magma that had been emplaced in dikes in the East Rift Zone in...1924,1955, 1960???  and was pushed out in front of the lava that erupted during the beginning of this eruption.  The stored magmas "evolved".  They changed chemistry as mineral crystals grew and settled in the dike, as gases escaped, and as the magma in the dike cooled ever-so-slightly.  That evolved magma, when erupted, simply looked different than fresh, hot lava.  The evolved "older" lava is pasty, black, and roughly-textured.  Fresh, hot, lava that has not spent a lot of time hanging out in the rift, erupts at hotter temperatures, is often pāhoehoe, and when it cools, has a silvery sheen, as weʻve seen for many years ma kai of Puʻuʻōʻō.

So "old", of course, is relative....And the Presentation suggested in Billyʻs comment would indeed very likely include lively discussion.  Iʻd enjoy listening and watching...

I donʻt know if these brief comments have added anything of substance for people to think about, but itʻs all a process...

And now, taking advantage of the generosity and hard work of folks at the United States Geological Surveyʻs Hawaiian Volcano Observatory, we are able to share the following video.  Itʻs posted on their website.  An excellent summary for #100.  Definitely worth replaying again and again.  Whatʻs missing, of course, are the sounds of rocks cracking, tumbling, and falling, the smells, the sensations of dozens of lūʻōniu and thousands of ʻōlaʻi, the feel of winds and rains; all of it stupefying.

The Before/After photos:



And the Video:

Kaluapele, April 14, 2018 to August 20, 2018

wow...We have watched and participated in history being made.  Decades from now, others will likely also say "wow"...

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com

26 August 2018

Kīlauea Update, Sunday, August 26, 2018. Remarkable times...

Remarkable..."worthy of attention"...and something to remark or comment about...

And we shake our collective heads, perhaps wondering "What next?".  During the past 4 months (May to August), not necessarily in order:  ʻōlaʻi:  small, medium, large, extra large 2.8, 3.5, 4.6, 5.0, 5.4, 5.6, 6.9...tens of thousands of all sizes; Pelehonuamea and her pele working in Keahialaka, Halekamahina, Kapoho, Pūʻālaʻa, Malama, Waiwelawela, Pohoiki..., adding 875 acres to the shore of Hawaiʻi nei, inundating 13.7 square miles and 700+ houses with fresh ʻaʻā and pāhoehoe; newly sculpted puʻu, māwae, kīpuka, lae and kūʻono, 62 lūʻōniu and their attendant M5.3 equivalent energy-no-tsunami-generated shakings; Halemaʻumaʻu, then 280 feet deep, now ~1,500 feet deep; a new pali on the floor of Kaluapele with a face 400 feet tall; and at its base a new kaulu (ledge) many, many acres in size, falling off into the abyss of Halemaʻumaʻu; walls of the caldera decorated with evidence of numerous hāneʻe (rock falls or landslides) and with colorful new faces; and in recent days, rains and floods and bombastic torrents and more hāneʻe in Hilo Palikū, One, and Hanakahi; Hāmākua, and Puna, and more...and more and more...itʻs dizzying...

At Kawaiʻapapane, my place here at Keaʻau ma uka, I measured 26 inches of rain in the 66 hours from noon Wednesday to 6a Saturday.  More or less.  Good thing we can handle...

And a phrase that comes to mind, recorded by Mary Kawena Pukui, is


He aliʻi ka ʻāina, he kauā ke kanaka

The land is the chief, man is its servant

We are here at the pleasure of the elementals: pele, winds, rains, earth shakings, tsunami...and are subject to their whim.  We must


be outside...pay attention       noho i waho...a maliu

Observe and learn if we are to make any sense at all of all this.  We must.  If we continue to build where we shouldnʻt, where the elementals, if we pay attention, tell us Beware! then the consequences are on us.  

And yes, I suppose I keep repeating these things, and sometimes shout, but some people...hard head...  Theyʻre either stubborn, or they donʻt pay attention, and some seem incapable of accepting that they screwed up.  And that The Government should pay to make things right.  Please note, dear readers, that The Government, as stated previously, is Us...

Please think, mull, muse, consider...  And another little thing:  It seems that these days, in many minds, there is an expectation of Safety.  We want to be Safe.  The Government must keep us Safe.  We put up with a lot so we can be Safe.  Rules, laws, ordinances, codes, policies, statutes...of course some, and perhaps many of them are well-intentioned, and I am certainly not advocating anarchy or "AINOKEA: I do what I like"...no...

But when is enough enough?  Airport Security Screenings, Building Codes, Food Safety Codes, when are they enough?  This is when I long for the olden days, when life was, in my estimation, simpler.  Got banged up while backpacking or hiking?  Either dig into the first aid kit and improvise, or someone had to hike out for help.  Cars had no seatbelts, people (including me) smoked in planes, sunscreen wasnʻt invented, had glass and metal, but hardly any plastic, of course no computers, cell phones or social media.  OK OK OK...maybe too much coffee...  You get the point.  Maybe.  I know of many single-wall houses, post-and-pier, with the post on a river rock.  Many decades old.  They survived all sorts of nature-challenges.  They still stand.  No building "codes" back then, just Common Sense.  Common sense...what a seemingly uncommon concept these days!!!

And it might be common sense to think that after the stupefying volcanic events of May-August, that itʻll take time for things to settle.  To reach whatever states are natural.  The malolo, recess, still holds.  I believe that weʻre still in that place of what we know, was, as we anticipate our uncertain and unknown future.  Weʻll always be in that state of uncertainty, but it shouldnʻt cause us to be paralyzed.  Remember, study, learn lessons, proceed.



A wonderland of steams...yes, subsurface heat remains.  And Iʻve noted a newish webcam in the tower at HVO.  Itʻs a thermal one.  The scale is relatively low, but allows us to discern the warmer places.  30dC (white) is 86dF, while 20dC (purple) = 68dF.  Kinda PeterMax-y:


And note again, there is relatively a tiny amount of SO2, sulphur dioxide, being emitted.  In the range of a few hundred tons a day, rather than the several thousands of tons a day when the lava lake on the floor of Halemaʻumaʻu was active.  Time to store all those SO2 monitors?  Really good Volcano Watch summary, this week from HVO gas geochemists:

Volcano Watch 082318

And Iʻm thinking, hoping, etc., that the rains of Lane, combined with much-decreased fumings may result in cleanly washed airs and a return to that beloved visual, compliments of R. Alex Anderson in "Haole Hula":  

"The lovely blue of sky and the sapphire of ocean..."

Haole Hula lyrics

We are ever-optimistic...

And there will be more to read...maybe on Tuesday...

Till then, as always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com

24 August 2018

Kīlauea Update, Friday, August 24, 2018. BigRain LokuLane

Thereʻs always something...but this seems to be an especially active season.  Especially active.  And we manage, enjoy, cope, are grateful, and wonder at the wonder of it all.

loku
nvi. Downpour of rain; blowing of wind; to pour, of rain; to blow, as a gale; torrential. Fig., to feel deep emotion, pain, sorrow; to weep profusely; intense. Also noku. Ka ua loku, the pouring rain. Ke aloha loku i ka puʻuwai, love surging in the heart. Ke loku nei ka makani, the wind is blowing in a gale. hoʻo.loku To pour, as rain; to disturb; agitated.

The famed place, Hanalei, on Kauaʻi, and its "Ka Ua Loku Kaulana aʻo Hanalei"...a fun bouncy mele...The famous drenching rain of Hanalei.  And of course in Hilo we have Ka Ua Kanilehua: 

Kani-lehua
n. Name of a mistlike rain famous at Hilo. Lit., [rain that] lehua flowers drink. [An alternate interpretation is “rain that makes lehua flowers rustle.”] See ex., pāwehi. Hilo Hanakahi, i ka ua Kani-lehua (song), Hilo, [land of] chief Hanakahi and of the rain that gives drink to lehua flowers.

Hmmm...maybe the "mist" is that which rises up out of thundering waterfalls.  Nooo, Bob...that "mist" is a Pua ʻohu...


pua
2. vi. To issue, appear, come forth, emerge, said especially of smoke, wind, speech, and colors, hence to smoke, blow, speak, shine. Cf. pua ahi, pua ehu, pua ʻehu, pua ʻena, pua hina, puana, puka. Pua ka uahi, the smoke rises. E pua ana ka makani, the wind rises.

ʻohu
nvs. Mist, fog, vapor, light cloud on a mountain; adorned as with leis.

And itʻs also the name of the home of a beloved niece, nephew, and their daughter, because at times like this, in drenching rains, we see the mists rise there in the uplands.

And then, of course, there is my favorite, the paka ua.  Growing up in Honokaʻa:  metal roof, big fat raindrops, spaced far apart, going paka, paka, paka as they hit.  Then after, when skies cleared, weʻd enjoy the sight of The Mountain blanketed with snow.  We called paka ua "snow rain".  "Ua" of course is "rain".

Noodling around with the Hawaiian Dictionary.  Always something interesting to muse about.

Up here at the ma uka-most reaches of Keaʻau, weʻve had 12+ inches of rain the last 36 hours.  Not bad.  And itʻs been interesting because the rains come in waves or bands...torrential for several minutes or more, then they rest and all is quiet, then more drenching downpours.  And the winds, thankfully, have been calm.  And the lights havenʻt gone out.  And as is our practice, we have plenty to eat.

The lua pele is enshrouded.  And Iʻm thinking that with all this rain, mayhaps the ground will be washed clean of the whitish lehu that fell during emissions accompanying the lūʻōniu, the "exploquakes".  Or the ash may be cemented by the rain, or... We shall of course see...

On Tuesday the 21st, a crew from the Hawaiian Volcano Observatory (HVO) walked around Kaluapele, looking for Benchmarks, those metal discs used in surveying, so the caldera can be resurveyed, documenting changes.


A Benchmark is shown above; that disc at the lower left.  Those familiar with Crater Rim Drive might recognize that this place on the floor is after you leave the Halemaʻumaʻu Parking lot, driving clockwise to Jaggar and HVO, this is just before the right-hand curve (see the yellow sign?) and then the hill up and out, then past the SW Rift Zone pullout.  
And the blue wedge of Maunaloa at upper right, with a small cloud of ash and rock dust blowing on the trades.

As NAP told me,

damn...the change is overwhelmingly real...not incredible!
ahhh...life...and what we "think" it is...
has mostly nothing to do 
with reality

And I think he said that because "Incredible" means "impossible to believe".  And as the photo above, and the many many others weʻve seen show us, the changes are indeed real.
Hoʻopūʻiwa, but real...

And of course Puna ma kai is drenched in rains too.  The photo below, from a helicopter of the lua at Fissure 8, is from Tuesday too.  The many shades of red in the walls...


As far as I know, we are still in malolo, a pause.  If youʻve wondered about the Tilt instruments on the deformation page, or the graphs themselves, it appears that the UWD Tilt machine at the summit may have died during our thunderstorm at noonish last Saturday.  And the graph of the ERZ Tilt may show the influence of our rains.  Stay tuned for more info.

The Updates from HVO reassure us that the ground is stable.

OK?

Now for some weekend browsing and reading.  In January 2013, Jim Kauahikaua at HVO and Pualani Kanahele of the Edith Kanakaʻole Foundation convened a two day meeting in Hawaiʻi Volcanoes National Park to talk about Pelehonuamea.  Here is a link to the resulting report.  Perhaps youʻll find something of interest in its pages.


Stay tuned for more, sooner rather than later.

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com

22 August 2018

Kīlauea Update, Wednesday, August 22, 2018, meet Hiʻiakalūʻōniu

Yup.  Late.  The best laid plans, etc.  Then life, other commitments, etc., sometimes get in the way.  Itʻs been another EARLY morning.  Woke at 250 or so.  Mind a-whirr.  And it didnʻt want to be stilled.   Darkness.  Still.  Quiet.  Except for that coqui in the distance.  

Before we get to the headline, here is something to consider, again...those words:  Pause, lull, rest, and...pau.  You pau?  Wen you goinʻ be pau? Almosʻ pau?  Pay aʻready?  Ha come not pau yet?  A very useful word, "pau"...

Pau = finished, ended, through, terminated....Thereʻs a place in or near the Basque Pyrenees named Pau.  I like go...  Yes, and yet another tangent.

So if we understand the definitions of "pau", the work of Pelehonuamea will likely never be pau.  A better word might be hoʻomalolo...to rest, pause, to cease work for a time.  Not to be confused with mālolo, those delightful flying fish.  Supposed to be very tasty.  We saw them...dredging up memories...maybe when we sailed from Hāna to Kahului on that sunnyWindy day, flying along on the canoe.  Thatʻll work.

"Hoʻo" is a prefix that activates the following verb.  Hoʻomalolo.  Good word, and apropos, because, (in unison, please...) We Donʻt Know whatʻs to come.

Down at Keahialaka, F8 sputters and fumes.  A little bit.  Sometimes.  And Mr Durginʻs cam intrigues...Faint orange glow on left, pixillated dawn at right.  I think...532 this morning.  We have to wait for Updates.


Spatter from jetting gases on Monday, August 20, the floor of F8.  The pale grey is fresh spatter.



Then an HVO drone video on Friday, August 17, spectacular view into the crater of F8:

081718, Drone Video into F8

The hues of red are caused by tephra (cinder, spatter, reticulite, etc.) oxidizing ("rusting") because of heat and gases.  Very artful.

Hoʻomalolo.

And now, for the headlines:

Superintendent Cindy Orlando has stated that the the Park may "re-open" on Saturday, September 22.  That "reopening" will be extremely limited, and is, of course dependent on Pele being oia mau nō:  As she is now.  Itʻll be a long, careful, deliberate process.  Stay tuned.

Now.  Now we get to meet the newest elemental in our pantheon.  Recall that during those 62 Magnitude-5.3-Equivalent-Energy-Released-No-Tsunami-Generated shakes, we went through a number of names, descriptive mostly, in an effort to make sense of what was happening.  "Ōlaʻi.  ʻŌlaʻi ʻami (hema or ʻakau), ʻŌlaʻi ʻōniu, ʻŌlaʻi ʻōniu pele, etc etc etc.  Remember all that?  Then I said Stop.  Forget it.  I take back the Oop.  

And weʻve been thinking and talking.  With the esteemed and beloved Pua Kanakaʻole Kanahele.  She is one of my kumu, and a friend of 40+ years.  She knows things.  And based on what she and I each know, we collaborated.  We believe that if a culture is to live and thrive, learning, thinking, and learning must continue and evolve.  Always.  And new ideas must be based on foundations previously built.  I am not an expert on much of anything.  I depend on good thinking, provocative conversation, and maybe too many questions so ideas can be developed.  And yes, I talked with other good observers up here, and we all agreed, Yes...these are different.  Really different.  "These" being our 62 "exploquakes".  And if you werenʻt up here, you wouldnʻt have felt them.  Just us...

An "elemental" is what some, or many, used to call a god or goddess.  The Hawaiian ones.  Or deity.  Or...Madame???

Lū means, among other things, "to scatter, throw, as ashes"..."to shake", and lots of other things.  GoLook.

ʻŌniu, as weʻve hopefully learned by now, is short for ʻamiʻōniu "the figure-eight hula step; the revolving hips (ʻami) form an eight, with weight shifting..."

And A CAVEAT:  As thinking and understandings advance, this document shall be edited and updated.  And itʻs brief, because I wanted it to fit on one page.  Comments and questions are, as always, welcome.  And I may not have the answers, because I only know lillabit.

Please meet, and think about, Hiʻiakalūʻōniu:



As always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com

19 August 2018

Kīlauea Update, Sunday, August 19, 2018. Ua noho au a kupa i kou alo...

The air is still and a bit humid.  Cardinals and doves call, and I wonder where the ʻapapane are.  Maybe they went up the mountain seeking coolness or are flitting about elsewhere lehua-seeking.

You know how sometimes youʻre mostly minding your own business and something random (or not) pops into your head?  Earlier I was poking around online, reading news snippets, and watching parts of news videos [those by Big Island Video News are especially apropos] about our current events.  Media are being toured around the Park so they can see and report on the changes wrought by Pelehonuamea.  It appears that from the ground, the scale and scope of Her remodeling is difficult to comprehend.  Especially...especially if one is new to the scene.  If one lacks context or history, how is change assessed or ascertained?  

So there I was, washing the morning dishes, and out of nowhere, there was "Ua noho au a kupa i kou alo, a kamaʻāina i kou leo..."  A song.  In the incomparable voice of Robert Cazimero.  Just like that.  "I have stayed and become accustomed to your face, and familiar with your voice".  Easy to find versions on youtube.  This one, by Kealii Reichel is particularly lovely...

Reichel: Ua noho au a kupa

The timeless poetry was written, some say, by Edward Nainoa in the 1890ʻs.  Others suggest it was written by Emma Bush.

Yup.  Bob tends toward the sentimental...Sigh...

When we meet someone, or a place, for the first time, thatʻs our baseline.  The beginning.  Time passes, and if weʻre lucky, familiarity grows and appreciation deepens.  At some point we may pause and look back, and think or say:  My!  Things have changed!  And we either get with the program, acknowledge change, and continue to appreciate, or, if too much the change, some get grumpy and say Nevermind!

It happened to me with Maniniʻōwali.  First encounter in 1972 with Tōb.  I was smitten.  And returned and returned and returned, countless times.  And then they bulldozed in a road.  And then they built houses ma uka.  And then they opened a park.  And over time, infatuation changed.  Though Maniniʻōwali and Kua Bay are among my ʻāina aloha, and I met and made cherished lifelong kuʻuhoa there, I rarely rarely visit these days.  Back then I was often the only one on the beach or in the Maniniʻōwaliblue waters.  The only one, or one of few.  Now...Now get 150 cars, 300 people on the sands or in the water, bodies from almost point to point, the sand is dirty...but the people meeting Maniniʻōwali these days for the first time, I believe, are delighted, and yes, maybe as delighted as I was 36 years ago.

And so it is here at Kīlauea.

We became accustomed to the face of Kaluapele, after decades of visits, explorations, wanderings.  We knew her many moods; the mists, rains, rainbows, clouds; innumerable colors, shades of light, textures; plants and birds and bugs; sounds, and scents.  We knew them well.  And now, though her face has changed, and will take a little getting used to, the essentials remain.  If anything, the incomprehensible events of the past few months remind us that the basics still surround us.  Wind and rain, pele, the sun and moon; all abide.



Even if, as above, the view to the south-ish from near Uēkāhuna looks muddied and nearly monochromatic, we at least understand why.  Well...maybe not so much "Why" as "How"...

And here are things to contrast.  Festive, colorful, and maybe even something to Print and Frame!  Our ʻōlaʻi, in colors!  These are for the past year.  


And note, below, our exploquakes - those big orangyred dots on the right side of the top row - the shallowest...
Amazing.

Gotta run.  Be back Tuesday.

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com  (now you know why...)

18 August 2018

Kīlauea Update, Saturday, 081818. Weʻre All Learning (mahalo to gh and to Joni Mitchell)...

Indeed, indeed...if we pay attention, there is always more to learn.  A critical piece of learning is reviewing histories, then adjusting and adapting to new circumstance.

I was heartened to read in the paper that the Superintendent of Hawaiʻi Volcanoes National Park, Cindy Orlando, is contemplating a "Reset" of management policies, to in part, alleviate congestion in the Park.  I wrote her saying that I believe that the focus of Interpretation, explaining Park resources to visitors must be Reset too, placing Native Hawaiian culture at the forefront.  

Pelehonuamea has entirely remodeled Kaluapele (the caldera) in stupefying ways.  It stands on a pedestal all its own, and is not at all comparable to any other place on earth.  We must celebrate the uniqueness of what for many is our ʻāina aloha.  Perhaps, at last, all can begin to appreciate the wonders of this place from the perspectives of those whose families have dwelt here for centuries.


Too, Iʻm contemplating a Reset of my own.  Not too much of one, though.  No panic...

This blog thing began because of my frustrations with media coverage at the beginning of The Recent Events.  MC and CM provided the kickstart, and to them Iʻm eternally grateful.  Poor, inaccurate, sensationalistic, sometimes false information, presented by those clueless about this place, inspired me to get off my ʻōkole (or more properly, ʻēlemu) and do something rather than just namunamu (to grumble or to complain).  And itʻs gone on and on and on...This is #95.  Who woulda thought???  

These were started mostly in pre-dawn darkness, because Iʻm a morning person, and more simply because webcams, especially the now-dead PGcam, allowed us to see what Pele was up to at Puna ma kai.  And the summit cams provided sunrise and other views of places otherwise inaccessible.  And with all the ʻōlaʻi, real and anticipated, I was often awake at 330a.  The average blog takes maybe three hours to assemble.  I think the longest took six hours.  No real outline, just a few notes or phrases, then I root around in computer files and the www for additional inspirations.  A gigantic MAHALO to the folks at the United States Geological Surveyʻs Hawaiian Volcano Observatory (USGS HVO) for their photos, graphs, and other images.  All I did was curate and present them in ways that made sense to me, hoping that theyʻd make sense to you too.

Is there a point, Robert?

Yes.  Though I am well aware of the fact that Pele may, at any time, redirect her energies, while we wonder, I donʻt see the need to write daily and compulsively.  There are other projects requiring my energies.  So Iʻll post, likely several times a week; however many times Iʻm inspired to do so.  And there will likely be Topics (thanks lr).  Topics related to things other than those volcanic.  Plants, place names, pet peeves, those you suggest, what-la, and those quotidian observations I enjoy so much.  [An author, pen-named Trevanian, wrote a number of novels, including favorites "Shibumi" and "Summer of Katya".  He always found a way to use "quotidian" in them].

Moving along...

Yesterday, brilliant blue sky and crisp white clouds...just a tiny bit of exhalation...This from near Volcano House, by HVO staff...



And the Tilt...here at the Summit,

 and there at the Middle East Rift Zone.  Both trending downward.  Portending????
While at the shore, pele is still oozing.  Right now up here, the air reeks of what I think might be hydrogen sulfide.  REALLY rotten eggs.  Itʻs raining, and winds are slack or from the east a bit.  Water + Sulphur = Hauna!!! and a headache.


Remember that the kahawai pele is 8 miles long.  Rock is a really good insulator, so though the surface of the flows are crusted and appear cool, the tens of feet of pele below the surface is still very hot, and obviously molten in places, at least as of yesterday.

At Pohoiki, also yesterday,


I wonder...how much of that bay will be black sand beach?  And for how long?  Looking vaguely Kaimū-ish with all those kumu niu (coconut trees).  Sure hope they arenʻt dead.  So very many kumu niu from Puna ma kai were dug up and trucked to resorts to beautify and tropicalize the lavalands on the west side...and of course now the trees there are all nutless to avoid lawsuits from Death and/or Injury By Falling Coconut.  Auē!

And this rain, harder now, is an excellent, excellent thing, helping to finally extinguish the 3,739 acres burned during the Keauhou Fire.


Why not end today with a few haiku from the morning walk at the Golf Course?

heady scented airs
eastside fullblooming gingers
memories recalled

doves wings driving winds
feast on lawn interrupted
surprising the breeze

swelling of slope clear
distinctly outlined features
now as it was then

OK?  Till next time, as always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com

16 August 2018

Kīlauea Update, Thursday, August 16, 2018, Oia mau nō...for now...

Ahhhh...The cool drippy heights of Keaʻau ma uka.  One day hot, next day not.  The unsettledness applies to the weathers too.  But...good the rain.  Keeps our tanks topped off, and replenishes those drawn down by summer visitors.  Remember, please, that all of Volcano relies on water catchment for...water.  Everyone has a tank of some sort in their yard:  redwood tanks, doughboy pools, corrugated metal tanks, old 55 gallon drums, big plastic tanks, and those made of ferrocement.  Those like the Park, needing bigger storage, use reservoirs.  And I was thinking about this because yesterday my pump broke.  Good thing mh, an excellent plumber friend, had a spare at his house.  Replaced the old one in two shakes.  BIG BIG mahalo!

"Oia mau nō" is a phrase used sometimes to answer Pehea ʻoe?  How are you?.  Oia mau nō translates to something like "still the same"...and of course requires some context.  We certainly arenʻt the same as we were in April.  Or May, June, or July.  But for the last 11 days or so, as far as pele goes, weʻre still the same up here.  Quiet.  Though still a bit tense, because we donʻt know...

ʻŌlaʻi certainly have diminished.  As stupefying as they were for months, equally stupefying is their near absence now.  FOUR in the last day.


Ten thousand plus in the last month.  Of course not all those were felt, but those of us up here, depending on exact location, substrate, type of construction of house, we felt many.
Hundreds during the month.  Yes.  Hundreds.  You shoulda been here.  Especially for the 60+ exploquakes.


Those exploquakes (my term) are illustrated below as the big jagged UPdowns.  Those Magnitude 5.3-no-tsunami-generated ones.  Pretty much daily.


They were caused by, or were the cause of, the incremental collapse of Halemaʻumaʻu and the floor of Kaluapele as Pele withdrew her magma.

And, lava is being withdrawn too, from Fissure 8.  Yesterday, only a tiny pond was visible.


And we have evolving shorelines at the coast.  A beautiful protected kūpuna and keiki pond, only requiring installation of a handicapped railing to ease entry down the boat ramp.


A note of caution, though.  Iʻd guess that much of the sand is brand new.  As such, itʻs shiny and black, and...quite sharp.  Not the best to walk on barefoot right away.  Rough edges need abrading; tumbling in surf to smooth them out. 


Looks like good surf!  And this angle shows two other pools.  Maybe weʻll have more Waiwelawela, warm pools, to laze in.  Iʻll guess that the longshore currents will continue to re-sculpt the shoreline, perhaps even filling in the bay to the left.
On the horizon, looking east-ish, L to R:  Halekamahina, Waiapele (Kapoho Crater), Kūkiʻi.

OK then...On with the day.

Be alert, and donʻt get too comfortable or complacent!

be outside...pay attention       noho i waho...a maliu

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC

15 August 2018

Kīlauea Update, Wednesday, August 15, 2018. Required Reading from USGS HVO

Time just zips right along.  Summer.  Hot days, and, up here, cool nights.  And itʻs been dry.  Not too helpful if one is trying to mop-up a fire.  The Keauhou Fire, last I heard, had burned 3,700+ acres, and was nearly 90% contained, thanks to hard-working fire crews.  We applaud their efforts!

According to my method of counting, weʻre 11 days into a Pause of the Works of Pele.  Not long at all, considering the life and landscape altering events of the last three and a half (3.5) months.  Iʻm hoping that this doesnʻt turn into a "How quickly we forget" scenario, wherein we think we can kinda all go back to life as it was.  Of course we canʻt, but the feeling seems to be that we want to and should, perhaps.  Go back to Normal.  Regulars.

Please read, carefully and thoughtfully, what our friends at USGS HVO assembled for us:

HVO Status Update, August 14, 2018, 931a

At the Update page, you may have to scroll down to get to this particular one.  The information and cautions posted are completely relevant and timely. Please pay close attention to what our friends are telling us.

As I said yesterday, given the catastrophic changes weʻve witnessed in three and a half months, we need to take a break when we can, and think about and assess our collective priorities.  Weʻve been in the midst of, in ʻōlelo Hawaiʻi, a hulihia, a period when things and life are "overturned; a complete change, overthrow; turned upside down."

Hulihia are neither good or bad, they just are...The key is how we react to them.  We can either pick up where we left off and proceed with life as "normal"... or... See if there are lessons to be learned from our experiences.  I certainly hope the latter happens.  I hope.

Hawaiʻi Volcanoes National Park will be holding Talk Story sessions, tomorrow and Friday, then again next week.  The Schedule:

Talk Story: Hawaiʻi Volcanoes

I firmly believe that now is the time to think outside of The Box.  To envision how we can all allow the Park, Puna ma kai, and our world, to become better places.  To imagine how to honor, respect, and best treat our resources, rather than exploit them.  To finally place Place at the top of the list.  To recognize that as much as we like to think that we are, We Are Not In Charge.

Whoever or Whatever you believe in, now is the time to be Thought Full.  Full of Thought.  Itʻs not about us.  Itʻs about our ʻāinaalohaʻāina.  ʻĀina = land or earth; that which feeds us.  Aloha = Aloha, affection, etc etc etc...  

ʻĀinaalohaʻāina:  The lands that we hold dear and the affection that we have for those lands.

Below, the Flow Map from HVO.  Itʻll be the last for the time being.  Pele is likely still oozing in places.

 And the tilting continues, both up and down.  These graphs help with the visualization of internal processes and outcomes.

At Puna ma kai:

And here at the summit:

What it all means, again, remains to be seen.

A topic to mull, consider, and wonder about...  There will likely be many of those in coming days and months...

I read in the paper, the Hawaiʻi Tribune-Herald, that the County is considering Keonepoko as a place of resettlement, housing, farming, etc., spending $30 million dollars for infrastructure there. 

$680 Million Recovery "Plan"

Question:  Why?

Are our memories so short that some have forgotten the Event of 2014, when pele reached the immediate vicinity of Pāhoa?  Bad enough when a Shopping Center was approved shortly after that.  Why?


The ahupuaʻa of Keonepoko is located between the subdivisions of Hawaiian Paradise Park and Hawaiian Beaches.  Vacant land, apparently.


If we look closely at the Flow Map above, we might learn that pele in 2014 might have followed a "Path of Steepest Descent" to Keonepoko. 

Also, Keonepoko seems to be in Lava Hazard Zone 2.  

I am left to wonder, Why?  Why there?  Are we not able to learn from past mistakes?  $30 million and more dollars?  Money, no matter which government it comes from, Federal, State, or County, is OUR money.  Taxpayer money.  Itʻs not free, it doesnʻt grow on trees or fall from the sky.  WE pay.  Cʻmon people, THINK!!!

We could all use some time to think and to plan.  With input from a variety of individuals who possess different knowledge sets, government employees or not, together we can be smart and learn and imagine The Future together.

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com

14 August 2018

Kīlauea Update, Tuesday, August 14, 2018, Pau? Maybe, maybe not...

Where to begin???

Letʻs start with definitions of "pau" in the Pukui & Elbert Hawaiian Dictionary:

pau:  Finished, ended, through, terminated, completed, over, all done; final, finishing; entirely, completely, very much; after; all, to have all; to be completely possessed, consumed, destroyed.

Then, we read things.  In the paper.  In the Hawaiʻi Tribune-Herald, by John Burnett.  Yesterday:

"Thereʻs some new cracks probably opened during the Aug. 9 south flank quake," Snyder said.  "But the highest temperatures they measured over the weekend in these cracks are, like 300 (degrees) Fahrenheit.  Most of them are 150 Fahrenheit or lower, just plain cold."

Snyder said there is no subsidence of the crater floor at Halemaʻumaʻu, at Kīlaueaʻs summit and "virtually no quakes, only mild steaming," over the weekend.

"The seismicityʻs down to three small quakes, really small.  The maximum was at (magnitude) 2.1, and youʻre not going to feel that unless youʻre right on top of it," she said.  

I see.  Some new cracks...just plain cold.  No subsidence, only mild steaming. Three small, really small quakes.  I see.  Itʻs all good.  Letʻs ask The State for...hmmm...hows about maybe just $670,000,000 to fix everything [Kevin Dayton in todayʻs Star Advertiser].  Can?

NO.  No can!

First, please...please, I implore you, please...Go Read Reports of past eruptions.  Google them.  Learn about and understand the History of where we are, where we live, of Pelehonuamea and her pele, and about eruptions.  Please.  

We cannot know that an eruption is pau until after, sometimes long after, the fact.  Months after, sometimes.  Months.  Go.  Read.  We have just witnessed The Most Remarkable Volcanic Events to have taken place in our lifetimes.  The inundation of places beloved and cherished, a stupefying alteration of Kaluapele, the summit caldera of Kīlauea.  These are not little minor manini things we simply put a little bandaid on, kiss, and move on from.  The entirety of the internal workings of Kīlauea has been altered.  And we donʻt know or understand why or how, much less what consequences these events will have on the future.  We. Do. Not. Know.

We know that eruptions pause, rest, take a break, have a lull, go on a respite, diminish, evolve, move location, reactivate, renew vigor, cycle through phases, gush, seep, fountain high, bubble low, spread, confine, stream, collapse, subside, refill, expand, speed up, slow down, etc etc etc.  

We do not know when an eruption will end, or how it will end.  So.  Please.  Take a deep, relaxing breath, and exhale slowly.  Gather your wits about you, and think.  Review.  Remember.  Pele created Hawaiʻi nei.  Sheʻll be here long after weʻre gone.  The current activities started on April 30, 2018.  Not even 4 months ago.  Why be in a hurry to resume life as it was?  For one thing, cannot.  Cannot.  We have ALL been altered by our experiences of the last several months.  Certainly some more than others.  Our ʻāina aloha has been utterly transformed.  And to varying degrees we have too.  No rush.  Recovery or readjustment always takes longer than anticipated.  Always.  

Sooooo....

Itʻs true that ʻōlaʻi are MUCH fewer in number.  Pictures seem to work better than words...


For the last WEEK:


And the last day up here:


Again, a reminder, that healing takes awhile.  And we donʻt really know whatʻs happening inside.  Smart, diligent scientists are hard at work trying to figure it out and understand processes.  But especially at Kaluapele, where we havenʻt seen such mindboggling changes, much less studied them with modern instruments, thereʻs a lot to be learned.

Above are tilt graphs for the last week.  UWD (the blue line) is at the summit, and POC, the thin green line, is on the Middle East Rift Zone.  Both trend downward, indicating, at best, that magma supply is still low.  At the moment.  I think.

Yesterday, a classic of Volcano summer, it was clear and HOT.  View below from the tower at HVO.


And from the same camera (note the same tree) on August 23, 2016, two years ago:


These little photos do absolutely no justice to the actual scenes.  Iʻm hoping for a fresh drone video soon...

And down at Puna ma kai, Fissure 8 continues to fume gently.


And we get to watch a new black sand beach being born, courtesy of longshore drift.

The graphic below, from Wikipedia:


Wind blows, pushing waves onto shore at an angle.  Sand washes back to ocean perpendicular to shore, and is carried by the longshore current.


Sands come to rest in sheltered, favorable locations.  Oh the irony.  Pohoiki remains so far safe, but the boat ramp now provides access to lovely swimming area.  Those who have been here awhile may remember the astonishingly big black sand beach at Kamoamoa that accumulated almost overnight, decades ago.  Photo below from

Beaches: Indiana University


Change.  The only constant.

It remains to be seen how thisʻll all be resolved...

More tomorrow...

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC
maniniowali@gmail.com