Not a bad night's sleep. I had my suspicions about the mosquitoes and creaking stairs but they weren't that bad. Breakfast was a bit like Waimea, the stuff was laid out and we were left to it. We were told, though, by the proprietress woman busying herself around that there were organic breads this side and (naughty) brightly coloured flavoured breads the other. I guess they were bad for you because they contained a lot of sugar, they certainly didn't taste of anything in particular. Helen darinly tried the somethingorother fruit supposed to be a bit like custard. Which it was. We lounged around for a bit, amused by the cat who, looking decidely bored and having carefully ignored us and not so carefully obstacles along the handrail along the lanai (Hawaiian for verandah) decided to approach us only to stop and take a slurp from the vase.
We trundled down to the airport where our flight was confirmed and we milled about, me trying to use up the last five minutes of my current tape. We were given a rapid fire safety briefing -- I must just note that of all peoples in the world we've spoken to, American's have the most difficulty understanding us -- before walking the two minutes to the edge of the airfield. We noted the premium [helicopter] company had a bus to take its passengers the 300 yards or so. I almost used up my film on some spectacularly uninteresting film of the helicopters sat on the ground. [I must have given the impression of being a really interesting person...]
Then a few minutes later we were off. It's another fantastically clear day, so clear the Pu'u O'o vent is clearly visible 21 miles away. That doesn't sound much but considering we cross about four climate zones to get there, you get the picture. The ride is surprisingly good in our little bubble helicopter. The other companies sleek A-stars look better but you get the same scene out of the window and, apparently, ours are the only ones to let you talk back to the pilot. If you could get a word in, as right from the start there's a constant flow of information about all and sundry regarding the volcano, Hawaii, land prices, hiking...
We get a great view of everything but there's a side effect to the fine weather. It's so sunny that we can't see the glow of the lava! That sounds a bit extreme, especially as most of the lava flows underground through the lava tubes (losing only 5F of its starting 2200F or so on its way from the vent to the ocean -- insulating manufacturers take note) but on a worse day we might see more of a glow from the tubes as you see at night. The [volcano] system is broadly quiet at the moment so there are no surface flows to speak of.
We pass over a small red outpouring before charging down the hill to capture the view from above what we've been climbing over to date. It looks pretty bleak and the scale is bizarre. I wondered why someone was on Chain of Craters Road on a bike, but it was a car. We're higher up than I thought. The ocean is a brilliant cobalt[?] blue a short way offshore (I decline, now, to give a scale), in the gap between the deep sea and the jet black beach/shore is a sky blue stretch of sea. I always thought it was a light sandy bottom that created this effect. Obviously not. There was a small gloop of lava pouring out of a hole in the shore wall into the sea. I have no idea of the scale.
The pilot (I think his name was Brick(!)) said that the geologists have little idea of the path of the lava tubes -- that the edge of a forest appears to be smouldering is [on the] news today and broadly the sort of indication they have -- which might well explain why we walked over one the other night. We get to see a skylight, where the roof of a `live' tube has collapsed. Looks small, though. Brick seems to be doing a spot of surveying so we get an extra ten minutes around the volcano. At least we assume so, the volcano is a 10 minute flight away so given it's supposed to be a 30 minute ride I hate to think how quickly you'd whizz over the area on a standard flight.
I turned the camera on at take off and so there's 40 minutes of flight on tape #21 -- reviewing it later, it appears I didn't shove it quite far enough out of the window and the wide angle lens means that half the frame is of the inside of the helicopter. Hmm, David Lean wouldn't be proud. Sadly no opportunity to view the Great Crack -- an enormous split in the earth along the southwest rift of Moana Loa [Kilauea, methinks!] The woman at the desk of Tropical Helicopters hadn't heard of it!
After, we head into Hilo for some lunch at the Canoe Cafe which runs a canoeing theme, oddly, and has filled the tiny shop with canoeing artefacts and memoribilia to the detriment of tables, customers, staff... We checked in at the Dolphin Bay Hotel where they had a photo of a man standing above a 12x8 foot hole over lava. That looks a bit like our skylight... The proposed room wasn't cleaned yet so we got a huge condo style room (double plus two singles) kitchenette big bathroom outside seating etc. instead. We lounged around watching the helicopter video (very noisy) before readying ourselves for tonight's stargazing.
On the way we stopped at a couple of waterfalls just outside Hilo. The first was heavily touristed, the second and more attractive if less spectacular, virtually deserted even though it was only a couple of km up the road. The Hilo end of Saddle Road begins unannounced (or we missed the sign) and is a great road. It's not flat and it's not straight, maybe it's a test track. The car does seem to be struggling, mind so I guess we're going uphill a lot. The wriggles peter out just as Summit Road appears round a corner. Summit Road seems steeper than last time or maybe it's because I'm driving rather than using the cruise control `beyond the envelope.'
At the visitor's centre there's about 40 people though there are several 4x4 tour buses so these must be summit visitors. We're directed to a nearby hill for the sunset and trek up another few hundred feet above the centre. We're here about an hour before sunset and relax in the tremendous calm of the place. There's no wind and we're above the clouds. Both Moana's Loa and Kea reveal themselves in all their glory leaving a blanket of cloud in the valley below. That valley, apparently, is yet another climate zone this time very similar to Afganistani desert. That must explain the presence of the Army base. Moana Loa, Brick said, is due to erupt in the next couple of years. Its crater inflated by an inch last year. If it goes, so does most of the Big Island...
The only interruptions to the tranquility are the screams of car engines scaling the summit cinder track above us, a remarkably busy road. Sunset was a bit of a let down as the sun hid behind a hill before the horizon. Back at the centre the summit tours have left but the car park's full of stargazers. About 30, probably, which is a surprise. They have two large telescopes (11 and 16 inch) and a 4 inch telescope (all donated or bought from donations) and numerous staff to guide people to the stars in a free program every night.
There was a video which we missed then a guide to the stars on view (I think I can recognise a couple more constellations) before they start pointing at some interesting things. Thay start with Jupiter and Saturn. You could see the cloud belts on the former and the latter looked like a cartoon drawing from Flash Gordon. They then looked at some nebulae and some galaxies. The galaxies were a bit blurry (I guess there's a limit) but the nebulae were black and white versions of the pictures you see on the TV. Great.
In an attempt to explain to Helen what she was looking at (it is a step to look at a star with the naked eye then look through a telescope at a smudgy picture with stars in it and be told the whole view is just that star) I dug out the binoculars from the car and was quite amazed to discover that you can see the Orion nebula quite easily and even later on I could just make out Jupiter's moons. I guess there's an advantage to being 9000ft up in some of the cleanest atmosphere in the world. I don't suppose things are that good in, say, Birmingham.
All good things must come to an end especially as it was quite cold and I don't think the chilli shrimp on last night's pizza is being digested in good order. Saddle Road back to Hilo was better as the cats eyes would come and go over the ripples and you hardly needed to press the accelerator. Downhill all the way.
Dolphin Bay Hotel, Hilo, Big Island N19.72915 W155.09035 Elev. 54m
Copyright 2003 Ian Fitchet. All rights reserved.