Guide Blogs

Thirteen hours, State Forest Permits, National Wildlife Refuge Permits, and keys to private property all add up to an epic day of island adventuring.  The pre-dawn to dusk day came about from a client request for a full day of private birding.  He wanted to see as many of the native birds as possible and only had one day.  A few minutes into the trip a Barn Owl flew across the road in front of us--a good birding omen. The sun was just beginning to lighten up the Hāmākua sky and we already had a bird on our day list. 

 

Our first stop was at 7400’ elevation on Mauna Kea.  A beautiful hoar frost squeaked  underfoot as we searched for Palila and the Mauna Kea race of ‘Elepaio.  My guest was amazed to be freezing and walking through frost in Hawai‘i. I bent down to rub some in my hands, a rare frosty treat.  The birds didn’t disappoint, we found both birds quickly along with dozens of mewing ‘Amakihi.  After a quick bit of breakfast, we travelled back down to the Saddle Road and made our way to Hakalau NWR.

 

When I left HFT headquarters a little before five a.m. that morning, I wasn’t sure about the weather.  There was a chance strong trades would bring mauka showers.  But, what greeted at us Keanakolu Road was one of the most brilliantly clear days I can ever remember on the windward side.  The air had a clarity and crispness to it that made it seem possible to view individual homes in Hilo twenty miles below.  Most spectacular though, was the scene across Mauna Loa’s east rift towards Kīlauea.  From right to left, rising into a completely cloudless horizon where three great plumes of fume.  At the far right was the great mass of gas emitting from the vent in Halema‘uma‘u, the middle plume rose as magma continues to degas from Pu‘u Ō‘ō crater on its way down rift, and finally, the large laze cloud climbed from the ocean as lava explosively collided with the sea.  Pele’s impressive display stretched over a dozen miles across Kīlauea’s flank.  Watching all three columns of volcanic gas rising up and carried away by the trade winds made it very, very obvious why we’ve had such voggy days in Kona over the last few months. 

 

Seduced only for a few minutes by Pele’s sulfuric show, we quickly pressed on to the wet Koa/Ohia forest of Hakalau.  Greeting us at the barn parking area was a lone Nēnē who was soon joined by five others who circled us twice before settling into the kikuyu grass. And before we had loaded our packs with lunch and water, a dark phase ‘I‘o glided through the eucalypts.  We slowly made our way down Pua Akala meadow ticking off birds and enjoying the perfect weather and spellbinding forest of Hakalau.  I‘iwi, ‘Apapane, ‘Ākepa, Hawai‘i Creeper, ‘Amakihi, ‘Elepaio and ‘Ōma‘o all paid us very kind visits with great viewing.  It was just a little after 11 a.m. when a male ‘Ākiapōlā‘au sang.  Soon we were watching a pair of Aki’s up close, completing our task at Hakalau.  Figuring we could eat lunch on the road, we hiked back uphill to the truck and our next destination.  I locked the gate on our way out at noon exactly, the earliest departure I’ve ever made out of the refuge.  Next stop, Pu’u ‘Anahulu home to the Big Island Country Club.

 

The water features at the Big Island Country Club are always a productive birding stop.  Five minutes out of the truck and we’d picked up ten new species including the native Hawaiian Coot who was paddling around the dreaded 17^th island green.  From there we travelled makai to Kīholo Bay hoping to find that the Bristle-thighed Curlews had returned for the season from the arctic.  We didn’t see any curlews but the walk was redeemed by the gorgeous setting and no less than 25 Green Sea Turtles along the beach.

 

We finished our day in North Kohala.  First at the staggering viewpoint known as Moku Lani Kila where commanding views from Pololū to Waipi‘o are had by those with keys to the private lands.  And finally, with the last light of day, at Keokea Beach park we were treated to dozens of Black Noddys skimming the water on their way home for the night, and far out at sea the unmistakable flight patterns of Hawaiian Petrel and Wedge-tailed Shearwaters.

 

It was a great day of sightseeing, birdwatching, conversation, and walking.  My guest was very excited and appreciative about his list for the day.  A satisfied customer always makes me feel great, but the long day finally hit me once alone.  As I headed back into Kona and saw the great gauze of vog enveloping the coast, I remembered that tremendous sight of Pele’s exhortations from earlier in the day.  I think it’s the only time the sight of vog has brought a great smile to my face.

 

Tired yet content,

 

Rob

There’s nothing I like more than being in the field with an expert.  So the day I recently spent with Don Swanson on Kīlauea was very enjoyable.  I was part of a small group of local residents who signed up for a seminar sponsored by the Friends of Hawai‘i Volcanoes National Park (www.fhvnp.org).  Don, a volcanologist and former Scientist-in-Charge of Hawai‘i Volcano Observatory, has had an impressive career studying volcanoes.  His first stint at HVO found him on the Southwest Rift Zone in 1969 when a fissure opened up literally underfoot to herald the beginning of the Mauna Ulu eruption which lasted until 1975.  Later, he left Hawai’i and went to the Cascades and helped start the Cascades Volcano Observatory.  He was there when Mt. Saint Helens explosively erupted and lost colleagues and friends in the eruption.  He probably would have been killed himself if he didn’t have to return a friend to the airport on the day of the eruption.  Returning to HVO, he led the agency for nearly eight years and now continues his research there studying explosive eruptions.

 

Most of us don’t think of Kīlauea as an explosive volcano, but Don wants to change that perception.  Kīlauea has had roughly the same rate of explosive eruptions as Mt. Saint Helens and more people have been killed by Kīlauea explosions than any other volcano in North America according to his research.  The current eruption at Halema‘uma‘u is an explosive eruption.  It’s not nearly as violent as others, but is still producing ash, vitric, and lithic material called tephra.  The Aril 9^th explosion was powerful enough to destroy the wooden fence at the overlook and scatter debris across the caldera floor. 

 

The most famous explosive eruption of Kīlauea was the 1924 eruption.  This phreatic, or steam eruption, lasted two and a half weeks and killed one person. It sent material tens of thousands of feet into the air and deposited an eight ton rock a half mile from the crater. The greatest episode of explosions that Don revealed to us were the eruptions that occurred shortly after the formation of the present day caldera around 1400 b.p.  Probably, sometime at or near the end of the ‘Ailaau eruption (the same eruption that formed Thurston Lava Tube and lasted about 60 years) large areas of the summit collapsed forming the pit crater at Thurston, Kīlauea Iki and the caldera.  From roughly 1460 to 1790 the mountain had over ten different explosive eruptions. At a small dig near the observatory headquarters, Don let us explore the different layers representing this time frame.  The famous 1790 eruption that killed a third of Keōua’s army was actually the last eruption from this long explosive era.  These eruptions deposited 35 feet of tephra around the caldera and nearly two feet at Volcano Village.  That ash is now the substrate that allows such good agricultural production in the volcano area.

 

I once wrote that Kīlauea is a volcano with aloha.  And while most of her eruptions are lava flows that often make themselves readily available for close-up viewing, it’s best to remember that explosive eruptions are a significant part of her history.  One day in the future, we may witness an explosive event that dramatically changes the landscape of Kīlauea and brings Don Swanson’s unique perspective into the mainstream.

With Aloha,

Rob

I spent the weekend hosting Matthew Miller, Features Editor for Islands Magazine (www.islands.com/). Saturday we spent the day with two birdwatching guests at Hakalau National Wildlife Refuge and were treated to glorious weather and cooperative birds. I found my first mixed-species feeding flock of the season allowing great views of Akepa, Hawaii Creeper, and a female Akiapolaau.  Sunday found me meeting Matthew at the crack of dawn at the Puu Huluhulu parking area—we planned to hike the summit of Mauna Loa via the Mauna Loa Observatory access Summit Trail.  After a quick bit of breakfast we drove up to the 11,300’ elevation, geared up and took off on the 12 mile, 4,000’ elevation gain/loss roundtrip.

 Hiking the summit of Mauna Loa takes it out of you in two ways.  First, six miles over rough, sharp, crack-ridden, uneven, bare lava is a perfect recipe for blisters, turned ankles, trips, and falls.  You basically need to watch every step you  make along the way.  And the miles seem much longer on the lava.  Secondly, doing a day hike up from 11,000 to 13,677 feet, after you’ve driven up from sea level, guarantees that the altitude will get you.  Headache, light-headedness, dizziness, muscle fatigue, and shortness of breath were our companions for much of the hike.  Plus, around 12,000 feet the wind shifted and brought a visible haze of vog to the summit.  Not only were we breathing about 40% less oxygen, what little air we were getting was laced with sulphur-dioxide!  Both of us were hurting pretty good by 12,500 feet. Me especially.

 We finally made the summit just at our absolute turn around time.  We averaged one mile an hour to the top—not a record pace.  As I approached the summit ahu, I thought, “This is the last time I’m doing this.”  I think I’ve said the same thing the last few times I’ve been to the summit.  Our hike down was easier but pretty tough.  Rubbery legs, a giant big-toe blister, and headache made for a brainless robotic descent.

 Despite the arduousness of the hike, it’s a trek that’s well worth it.  The challenging conditions combined with the beauty of the lava formations,  the absolute silence, and the magnificent view of Mokuaweoweo caldera make it a world-class walk.  At the summit upon first viewing the caldera Matthew declared, “You know what, I think it’s more impressive than the Grand Canyon.”  Maybe he felt that way because of the tough going getting there or the hypoxic condition of a brain at nearly 14,000 feet.  But no matter what you compare it to, standing on top of the world’s largest volcano is definitely an awe inspiring experience. Despite my summit vow, I imagine if someone asks in the future and I’ve got the time (and my big-toe blister has healed), I’ll find myself hypoxic at the edge of Mokuaweoweo atop Mauna Loa.

 If you’re interested in learning more about Mauna Loa visit this site: http://hvo.wr.usgs.gov/maunaloa/ or check out my essay on Mauna Loa here: http://www.hawaii-forest.com/natural-history/essays/1998-11.asp

 

With Aloha,

 Rob Pacheco

Aloha,

Was a beautiful evening on Mauna Kea last night. Weather at the summit was relatively warm and winds were light. With a nice clear sky we were able to see Venus, Saturn & Mars just after sunset.

At the VIS we one of those "in-your-face" kinda skies. The Milky Way was magnificent and you couldn't ask for more stars. In the telescope we saw Saturn, Mars, Venus, Jupiter, Alberio, and Whirlpool Galaxy.

Thank you Merritt for a great night and to all our guests who came along.

A hui hou

Weather at the summit was cold with some wind. We had high cirrus which gave us some wicked colors at sunset, but did a good job blocking Saturn and Venus.

At the VIS we had mostly clear skies with clouds in the Southern sky and again winds from the NE.

However, we saw Alberio, Jupiter, Lagoon Nebula, Ring Nebula, 2 meteors and lots of other twinkling lights.

Until next time.....