Friday, August 2, 2019. Imagine the Unimaginable

In the mode of

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

or perhaps in this instance, fly outside, pay attention.  Before last summer, who wouldʻve couldʻve imagined what happened?  Collapsing, erupting, lūʻōniu-ing, shaking seeming endlessly.  We knew and understood a bit of what had happened through centuries; various violently explosive eruptions tossing rocks and ashy bits hither and yon, blanketing landscapes, including the site of my home here at Keaʻau ma uka.  

lithic tephra strewn

at her whim unexpected

ma uka to ma kai

Lithic = rock, tephra = volcanic products falling from the sky...bigger and more than we witnessed and experienced during The Three Months.

And today is the Piha Makahiki (One Year) since our last lūʻōniu, rockfalls fortuitously captured on an HVO webcam at 11:55am on August 2, 2018:

USGS HVO

Down at Kapoho, in that cone we now know as Waiapele, was cradled a lake known by some as Green Lake.  Traditionally, according to an old map, both the cone and lake were Waiapele.

First, as pele was flowing into Waiapele, 

then, after the filling, both photos by friend Andrew Richard Hara:

And then that old map, Registered Map 366 from the State Survey Office at the Department of Accounting and General Services:

And a screenshot of part of the legend above.  The map was drawn by FS Lyman, after his survey in February 1880.  The Lyman family has had charge of land at Kapoho for generations.

And now, the Unimaginable part...or mayhaps not so much Unimaginable as Unexpected...

As if to compensate for the loss of Waiapele at Kapoho, there has been recently observed a waiapele held in the bosom of Kaluapele, at the very bottom of Halemaʻumaʻu.  May wonders never cease.

We have a tendency, especially in these times of expected hyper-quick response times via social media and email, not to pay too much attention.  We must move on to the next new thing, before we even become accustomed to this new thing.  Observations over centuries, decades even, canʻt possibly account for all eventualities and possibilities.  Imagine...

This new wai is likely a waiwelawela, heated by elemental subterranean fires, its color from various minerals and chemical reactions...

HVO Volcano Watch, August 2, 2019

This, from HVOʻs above noted Volcano Watch column, taken on August 1, 2019:

Look really good at the very bottom, that sort of jade-colored dot.  Thatʻs it.  A friend suggested that it might be meteoric water.  Wait...lest we start rumors of a meteor or asteroid having caused the formation of Halemaʻmaʻu, "meteoric" in this usage is Definition #2, as below:

me·te·or·ic

Learn to pronounce

adjective

1. 1.

   
   

   relating to meteors or meteorites.

   "meteoric iron"

   • 
     

     
     
2. 2.

   GEOLOGY

   relating to or denoting water derived from the atmosphere by precipitation or condensation.

And we recall this, posted on Big Island Video News on June 7, 2019, and the paragraph following, posted here previously.  The dark streak appears to originate at the opening of a lava tube exposed just below the caldera floor, view is toward the south:

According to USGS Research Geologist Don Swanson, “What I have dubbed a “black streak” on the caldera wall is flowing water. The water comes from a shallow perched aquifer impounded by dikes in the southwest rift zone. Water flows southward along and in the sand flat below Crater Rim Drive but is stopped by the dikes, which form a dam. For one of several reasons (increasing water pressure, failure of wet sand, small rock fall), water breaks out of the aquifer and pours into the caldera. This phenomenon was first noted on July 4, 2018, and has been observed repeatedly since then. There are at least two different sites for such water flow, both just north of the southwest rift zone. The flowing water has eroded ravines or gullies that resemble cracks. Water flow generally lasts several hours and then stops as water in the aquifer is depleted. But, days to weeks later, water reappears.”

Might these two phenomena be related?  Maybe itʻs that the greenish water in Halemaʻumaʻu trickled down though that smoothish slope of fine talus after exiting a lava tube buried in the wall.  The wai may be "wai hī"...

wai hī

n. Water oozing as from a precipice or trickling down. Lit., purging water.

Maybe lehu (ash) and fine rock dust have accumulated at the bottom of the lua forming a more or less impenetrable layer, maybe, maybe, maybe...

Tools available today (helicopters, drones, webcams, telescopes, and whatla) allow us to peer where we couldnʻt in past eras.  Who knows if waters were held in Kaluapele before?  We know stories of Kawaiakapāoʻo in or near Kaluapele, in which a legendary goby fish was said to dwell.  We hear of waterfowl having sported in ponds at Kūkamāhuākea, the broad area where steams rise along Crater Rim Drive (known today as Steaming Flat), and there are likely other stories of waters in the summit region of Kīlauea.  

And of course today, we enjoy the waters of Erick as they fall, knowing that rains cause life here in the rain forest, and we are thankful that they are unaccompanied by strong winds.

Raindrops trickle down the glass of the tower at HVO, perhaps eventually wending their way to, and enlarging the pool in Halemaʻumaʻu.   

Iʻve been hither and yon too these past weeks, and Iʻll leave you today with this:

A lei kokio, flowers gathered from a cultivated tree at the home of friends on Maui.  The pua, in my perhaps not-so-humble opinion, are the most spectacular of any of our kamaʻāina species.

With that, prayers for safety and warmth for those at Puʻuhuluhulu...

As always, with aloha,

BobbyC

maniniowali@gmail.com