Geotripper: The Hawai'i that was

Showing posts with label The Hawai'i that was. Show all posts

Thursday, January 25, 2018

A Look Back at Ten Years of Geotripping: The Hawai'i That Was

This is one of my favorite bits of writing from Geotripper. I didn't actually write it until 2016-17, but I actually sketched it out way back in 2009 while sitting in a Mexican Restaurant in Bakersfield on a 112 degree day. On that day we were in no hurry to leave, so I was reading about the presence of the Gardner Pinnacles, a seven acre island that is the oldest bit of exposed volcanic rock in the Hawaiian Island chain. As I worked my way through a delicious three-entrée plate of tacos and enchiladas, I was imagining how many species of animals and plants might have existed there, including many that would have disappeared along with most of the island itself. My musings ended up as several handwritten pages of text that would eventually become the first post of the series. I lost the pages somewhere within a few days, but I never forgot the desire to write a series of posts on this incredible place. An extended visit and field class in the summer of 2016 finally gave me the inspiration to get the whole project off the ground. Instead of describing the beaches and tourist hotels, I was seeking to understand the ancient Hawai'i, the one that existed before European contact, and the one that existed before Polynesian contact.

This has been a continuing series of my personal celebration of ten years of blogging. The compilation below appeared on May 5, 2017.

Since last summer I've been working on a blog series based on the geology, natural history, and anthropology of the Hawaiian Islands, loosely based on our field studies class last summer. There are a lot of stories told by these isolated islands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I finally reached the (possible) end of the series yesterday, and so today I'm putting together a compilation of the posts (click on the titles to get to each blog).

The Hawai'i That Was: A New Blog Series
This was the opening post that described what I hoped to do with the series. It included a picture of the Gardiner Pinnacles, the last bit of volcanic rock in the Hawaiian chain of islands. This bit of rock is the final remnant of an island that may have rivaled Kaua'i or Maui in size.

The Hawai'i That Was: To know what was we need to know Hawai'i today
I remember that the location and relative size of the islands meant little to me until I actually visited. In this post I laid out the geography of the main islands of the chain.

The Hawai'i That Was: Why Should We Care?
We are often far too ignorant of our dependence on the land and resources, and forget that they can be abused and wasted. All human societies alter the landscapes that they occupy to increase their chances for survival, and some are more successful than others. Hawai'i is a microcosm of the human experience on Earth.

The Hawai'i That Was: The Beginning of All Things, (Ba)salt of the Earth
Hawai'i begins and ends with basalt, the product of the partial melting in the mantle of the Earth. Basalt is the foundation on which the entire story of Hawai'i is written.

The Hawai'i That Was: The Abode of the Gods and Creation at Kilauea
Kilauea is the site of Hawaii's ongoing eruptive active, 33 years and counting. We saw some spectacular spattering when we visited at night. The video is in this post.

The lava lake in Kilauea Iki in 1959. We walked across it last summer

The Hawai'i That Was: Walking a Lake of Fire in "the Little Source of Great Spewing"
In 1959, a huge eruption produced gigantic columns of spewing lava and filled a depression creating a lake of fire. It's still hot today nearly 60 years later. We walked across the abyss.

The Hawai'i That Was: Pu'u O'o, the Volcano We Couldn't See
The present day lava flows at Kilauea originate at a vent called Pu'u O'o a few miles east of the summit. We didn't get to see it on this trip, but I flew right over it in 2009. Here are the pictures!

The Hawai'i That Was: Living on Uncertain Ground - The First Human Wave Arrives
Hawai'i was one of the last uninhabited places on planet Earth. We get a first look at what life was like for the earliest colonizers, and begin to understand how they changed the islands.

The Hawai'i That Was: How Can the Biggest Mountain in the World Stay So Hidden?
It was a bit strange that we were on Mauna Loa, the world's biggest mountain, and barely ever saw it. The weather on the Big Island can be fickle! No worries though, I found a lot of images in the archives.

The Hawai'i That Was: Mauna O Wakea, the Opening to the Heavens, and the Realm of Ice
There is a second gigantic volcano on the Big Island that is taller than Mauna Loa, but of somewhat less bulk. Mauna Kea is considered the realm of the gods, and in a sense modern technology reflects this as some of the world's most powerful observatories on the summit search the Universe for understanding.

The Hawai'i That Was: A Tale of Two Kipukas, and Thoughts on the Rarest Plants in the World
Ever wondered about the world's rarest plant? How about one that existed as a single specimen? That died? Someone preserved just a few seeds, so it may come back (there are about 200 planted in the kipuka today). The role of kipukas in preserving the Hawai'i that was is described in this post.

The Hawai'i That Had Never Been: A Mountain That is Younger Than Me, Mauna Ulu
An exploration of a mountain that didn't exist when I was in grade school, along with another of Hawai'i's fascinating kipukas. Mauna Ulu is a fascinating place to explore.

The Hawai'i That Was: There was a Monster in the Water at Laupahoehoe
The tragedy of the 1946 tsunami at Laupahoehoe, and how it saved hundreds of thousands in the Pacific Ocean later on, but didn't in the Indian Ocean in 2004.

The Hawai'i That Was: Where are the Rivers? Waterfalls on the Big Island
Many parts of the Big Island have no rivers despite near constant rainfall. In other places, there are some really nice waterfalls! We explore some of them in this post.

The Hawai'i That Was: A Veritable Rainbow of Sand (and cute gratuitous sea turtles)
Did you know that there are beaches in Hawai'i that are made of gemstones? Or that beaches range in color from black to white with a whole rainbow in-between? Lets explore a few.

The Hawai'i That Was: Look at the Cute Squirrel! (NOT a squirrel)
You will no doubt see a squirrel-like creature on some the Hawaiian Islands. It's not, it's a mongoose, which is an important control on pests in other lands. In Hawai'i it IS the pest. It's had a devastating affect on the native birds of the islands.

The Hawai'i That Was: Exploring Pololu Valley on an Unstable "Dead" Volcano
The Big Island is not noted for having huge coastal cliffs, but there are some nice ones on the northeast coastline. The origin of the cliff is a notable story as well, that of a gigantic prehistoric landslide.

The Hawai'i That Was: What Happened to the Stones of Pololu? A Look at Pu'ukohala Heiau
This is the story of the Pu'ukohala Heiau, one of the most intriguing archaeological sites in the Hawaiian Islands. It was built by King Kamehameha I prior to his uniting of the islands under single rule. The stones they used to build it came from the other side of the island.

The Hawai'i That Was: Lapakahi, the Kind of Place Where the Rest of Them Lived
History seems to always be about the kings and presidents. We usually hear little about what life was like for the "commoners". Lapakahi is an archaeological site that protects a commoner's village on the northeast coast of the Big Island.

The Hawai'i That Was: Have We Got Some Real Estate for You! Exploring Kaloko-Honokohau National Historical Park
Hawai'i has a number of national parks, and one of them seems a strange choice, backed up against a Costo store near Kona. It's a barren lava flow, but treasures are hidden within its boundaries.

The Hawai'i That Was: Pu'uhonua o Honaunau, the Place of Sanctuary That Might Not Be So Safe (Geologically)
Can you ever feel safe? There are different kinds of 'safe' in Hawai'i. A few hundred years ago, small infractions could get you killed, but you could find safety and forgiveness if you could make it to a place like Pu'uhonua o Honaunau. Geologically though? Maybe not so much.

The Hawai'i That Was: Watching the Destruction of the Islands in Real Time
Flying from the Big Island to Kaua'i is like riding a time machine both backwards and forwards. We see the progression of the erosion and subsidence of the islands over the last 5 million years, but we are also seeing the future of the Big Island, five million years into the future.

The Hawai'i That Was: We Arrive on Kaua'i and Find the Beauty of Age
The Big Island and Kaua'i are separated by only a few hundred miles, but they might as well be worlds apart. They are different from each other in many ways. We begin an exploration of the oldest of the main Hawaiian Islands.

The Hawai'i That Was: History and Beauty at Ke'e Beach and the Na Pali Coast.
On the north side of Hawai'i is a spectacular coast of some of the highest beach cliffs in the world, and the remains of a hula school that operated for perhaps 800 years. Not many universities in the world can make such a claim.

The Hawai'i That Was: An Idyllic Paradise on the North Shore of Kaua'i. Sort of.
Hanalei Bay is one of the most beautiful places on planet Earth. But even paradise can be a place of danger. Why are all the houses built on stilts?

The Hawai'i That Was: Hanalei, Where the Waterfalls Seem to Stream From the Clouds
The north side of Kaua'i captures the warm moist tropical trade winds, and collects prodigious amounts of rainfall. The mountains here are the wettest places on Earth, with one spot that gets nearly 500 inches of rain per year.

The Hawai'i That Was: Rising Out of Depression on Kaua'i, and Sleeping Giants
Have you ever wondered where that unique mountain in the opening of "Raiders of the Lost Ark" was located? Actually dozens of movies have been filmed on Kaua'i somewhere. We also climb the Sleeping Giant, a slumbering hero of the native Hawaiians.

The Hawai'i That Was: Into the Last Stand of Wilderness in Kaua'i, the Alaka'i Swamp
We take a hike into the last refuge of many of the native species of the Hawaiian Islands, a high-altitude "swamp" on the Alaka'i Plateau. It is an absolutely unique environment, unlike any on Earth.

The Hawai'i That Was: What the Worst Disaster You Can Think of? The Terror of Na Pali...
The cliffs of the Na Pali is one of the most incredible shorelines in the world, and are stunningly beautiful. On the other hand, they are evidence of one of the most violent of disasters, one that was so intense that it sent waves crashing against the other islands more than a thousand feet high.

The Hawai'i That Was: The Lost Wetlands of the Mana Plain on Kaua'i
A portion of the west coast of Kaua'i exemplifies the conflict between the modern world and the natural environment that existed before. Volunteers are attempting to rebuild some of the wetlands that once existed on the Mana Plain.

The Hawai'i That Was: Waimea Canyon, the View You "Have" to Earn...
Our trip was near an end, and we took one last hike, one that end at the brink of a place so spectacular that it's been called the "Grand Canyon of the Pacific". We learned about the need to "earn" a view.

The Hawai'i That Was: The Final Refuge
For the our final blog in the series (for now at least), we have a look at Waimea Canyon, a deep gorge produced when half the island threatened to collapse and sink into the sea. We end with the realization that the natural environment that once existed in Hawai'i still survives in isolated corners here and there. These are the last refuge for many species, and many of us.

Friday, May 5, 2017

The Hawai'i That Was: A Geological and Anthropological Exploration of the Islands

The lava lake in Kilauea Iki in 1959. We walked across it last summer

Monday, May 1, 2017

The Hawai'i That Was: The Final Refuge

Kaua'i broke, if not in half, then certainly something close to it. The entire summit of the Kaua'i volcano slipped downward along a fault four million years ago, causing streams to change their direction and causing the erosion of the spectacular gorge of Waimea Canyon. In places it is 3,000 feet deep, enough that it has been christened the "Grand Canyon of the Pacific". In our last post, we "earned" our first look at the canyon from the end of the hike at Cliff Trail Lookout.

Having read that post (okay, go back and read it!), you too have "earned" your right to enjoy the superlative views from several pull-outs from the highway leading to Koke'e Park. The class had ended and most of the students headed home, so Mrs. Geotripper and I stole away for one last visit to the canyon and the high-altitude rainforest above. It was late in the afternoon, and the sun's shadows were lengthening, bring the canyon into sharp relief. There's a story here, both in the geology, and in life. This place is a refuge.

This entire series has been an exploration of the "Hawai'i That Was", the geology, natural history, and human history of these beautiful islands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Over and over, we've seen examples of vast changes that have taken place in the natural landscape of the islands.

When Tahitians arrived on the islands many centuries ago, they quite probably were not the first humans. Legends have persisted of a race of magical "little" people called the Menehune. There is speculation that these people had arrived from the Marquesas Islands some time before the Tahitians, and they were driven into the hills and forests under the relentless advance of the colonizers. They eventually disappeared into dim legend. Their diminutive stature may have been a case of victors making the history by belittling the conquered.

Waimea Canyon is the setting for a more modern invasion and retreat. The arrival of first the Tahitians and then the Europeans set the stage for a devastating blow to the native flora and fauna of the islands. The colonizers brought invasive plants, rats, and disease-carrying mosquitos. They brought goats and pigs. The coastal zones were the most affected, as that is where the humans mostly settled. The birds bore the brunt of the attack. Bird malaria wiped out nearly all the native birds along the coast to the extent that settlers bemoaned the lack of bird songs. They brought birds from elsewhere for a variety of reasons, but they inevitably drove out any remaining native birds. Most visitors never see one.

The natives hang on in the highest reaches of Waimia Canyon and in the Alaka'i Plateau in the highlands above. It's too cold for the mosquitos, so malaria has not yet arrived. They've established a final refuge in the high forests like the Menehune before them. I look at the 800-foot-high Waipo'o Falls and can't help but think of the adventure stories like Lost World and King Kong.

Some of the native birds are on the verge extinction like the dozens of species already lost, but others have stable populations, at least for the time being. They face new threats, not the least of which is global warming. The new leaders inhabiting our federal government may deny it, but warming is continuing and the islands are changing. There will no doubt be changes in the frequency and intensity of storms (one rare typhoon, Iniki in 1992, actually caused the extinction of one or two species of bird). The greatest threat may be the expansion of the mosquitos into the high country refuge. There may be nothing that can be done to save the last of the natives, and they will, like the Menehune, disappear into legend.

I hope it doesn't happen. I'm driven to write on nature and environment by the hope, however tenuous, that my words and the words of many others like me, the teachers, the professors, and the researchers will break through to those who hold the power and influence. That can only really happen if the people in our society take action, much like the March for Science, and the March for Climate. A difference is being made. I've seen some isolated examples of politicians changing their critical votes because of public pressure. I hope it can continue.

In the meantime, our story has come full circle. We arrived on an island known for palm trees and coral sand beaches and Hula dances, and hopefully discovered a rich and varied ecosystem influenced by powerful geologic forces. We explored the youngest part of the islands, the newest lands, and made our way onto the oldest and most eroded island. And so we wrap it up. Look for a post very soon that will link to all of the stories in this series.

There may be an addendum before long, however. The Cordilleran Section of the Geological Society of America is meeting in Honolulu in a few weeks, and I'll be there. I'll be exploring a bit of Oahu, as well as some new sites on the Big Island. I may have some more material to add before long!

We reached the coastal plain in a brief rainstorm and were treated to a final rainbow. We headed back to the hotel and packed. We had a plane to catch in the morning.

The Hawai'i That Was: Waimea Canyon, the View You "Have" to Earn...

You may be utterly surprised by this, but I was kind of a strange kid. I loved the outdoors of course, and was absolutely fascinated by geography, and when I learned about topographic maps in the scouts, I had found my calling. I liked seeing the big picture and climbed every mountain I could get to through my teen years, always looking for the better view. And I developed kind of an odd ethos...I figured the quality of the view was directly in proportion to the effort required to achieve it.

Take for example the classic scene from the classic cinema experience that is "National Lampoon's Vacation". Clark Griswold appears to have not appreciated the incredible scene before him at the Grand Canyon. Now it's true that he technically just robbed the hotel and he's a wanted man, but still one feels that maybe his life would have been enriched if he had taken a few moments to explore the rim, take a trail down a little ways, maybe purchase a book that explained something of the geology (with the cash that he stole). Well, maybe that's not the best example...

Let's try this example instead. When I was a teen in the scouts, we did a backpacking trip to Santa Anita Canyon, and after we established our camp at Spruce Grove I and a few buddies started the long climb to the summit of Mt. Wilson, one of the significant peaks in the San Gabriel Mountains. We struggled up the mountain for hours, carefully making our way around snowbanks and trudging up switchbacks. We made it to the summit and the view was breathtaking. It was a rare smogless day and the entirety of the Los Angeles Basin lay at our feet. We could even see Catalina Island out on the horizon. We were enthralled, despite being teenaged boys (parents weren't there so we didn't have to act up). It was about then that we noticed that we were in a parking lot and we were surrounded by bored-looking people. They had driven up the Angeles Crest Highway and were visiting the observatory and the small theme park that used to be up there. Hardly anyone seemed to be taking in the view.

What does that have to do with Hawai'i, you ask? As some of you may recall, I spent a fair part of the summer and fall working on a series about the Hawai'i That Was. It was an exploration of the geology and anthropology of the Big Island and Kaua'i, and it was going just fine until I got distracted the 2017 Deluge that engulfed California, as well as our journey to Death Valley. I wasn't that far from finishing the main part of the series, but it has been several months since I posted anything. So we come to today's post.

We had been talking about the oldest of the main islands of Hawai'i, Kaua'i. We had explored the shoreline roads and the hike to the Alaka'i Swamp, but I was saving the best part for last. When one runs through the stereotypes of Hawai'i, there are the beaches, the palms, the volcanoes and all that stuff, but one doesn't normally think of incredible deep and rugged canyons. But that's what is present on the relatively small island of Kaua'i: a canyon so scenic and deep that it has been called the Grand Canyon of the Pacific. Geologically, it shouldn't be there.

What's that all about? All of the islands grew as large basaltic shield volcanoes, and as they moved off the hot spots the islands subsided and underwent severe erosion. Sometimes large landslides erased large portions of the islands, and started a sequence of erosion that produced rugged canyons, but there is nowhere in the islands that is anything like Waimea Canyon. In places it is 3,000 feet deep, almost 60% of the depth of the "real" Grand Canyon in Arizona. On such a small island it can't be very long, only ten miles or so, but the exposures are spectacular. But it tells a strange story.

The original volcano grew to an elevation of perhaps 8,000 feet, and would have been a relatively circular edifice. It emerged from the waves about 5 million years ago, but about 4 million years ago the volcano destabilized and much of the summit, perhaps two-thirds of the entire volcano slipped, but did not collapse into the sea. It simply shifted a few thousand feet and stopped. Water courses that used to flow west towards the ocean were shifted to the south instead, along the fault. The canyon grew despite the growth of another shield, and eventually Waimea Canyon emerged as one of the deepest island canyons in the world.

There is a paved highway that leads to several spectacular overlooks, but there was a stubborn part in my psyche that insisted that I had to earn a view of the incredible gorge. I missed doing the hike on a previous trip because one of my students broke a finger and needed to be transported to a medical facility. This trip, it was finally going to happen, but I had strained a ligament or tendon in my foot, and I was, much to my chagrin limping badly. I actually had a cane, but it wasn't going to stop me. I was going to hike to the Waimea Canyon Overlook. I started hiking with Rebecca and Thomas (most of the other students opted to go shopping or snorkeling one of the coral reefs). It was a fascinating journey through the high altitude rainforest. We saw some of the native birds and vegetation, aa well as some non-native invaders, the goats (I'm just glad it wasn't one of the wild boars). The goats and boars have done immeasurable damage to the forest and their control is a continuing problem.

I stumbled into a clearing and had a view down the canyon where we could see the basaltic lava flows (originally black but weathered red and brown because of the high iron content. In places we could see the vertical dikes of basalt that once fed eruptions at the surface.

Little vegetation covered the slopes, as they were so steep that soil couldn't form quickly enough to support plants before being eroded down the canyon.

The forest ended abruptly, and the world fell away before us. I briefly forgot my aching foot to take in the incredible sight. True to my teenage ethos, I had (painfully) earned this view! Now maybe you can't get to islands, or maybe a disability might prevent you from doing a hike like this, but one can earn a view in a different way: education. Learning the reason for the landscape provides a richness to the experience of seeing it. It's not just colors that lie before you. It's a long history of one eruption after another, followed by earthquakes, faulting, landsliding, weathering and erosion. Research into the native legends provides a human perspective to this natural wonder.

And that means that you, dear reader, have earned the view at last (this is because you still happen to be reading)! This is Waimea Canyon on Kaua'i, the so-called "Grand Canyon of the Pacific", one of the most stunning places on planet Earth (as far as I am concerned). We first see the view towards the horizon to the south in the lower reaches of the canyon.

Then we see the dark gorge that lies at our feet.

Now, it's true that our panorama is limited somewhat because I wasn't able to go any farther because of the foot pain. Another half mile would have put us at the top of a stunning waterfall, but that will be something to look forward to next time.

Mrs. Geotripper and I made one more trip to Waimea Canyon before we ended our journey to the islands, and we saw awesomeness. Those pictures will be the subject of the next post

Blooks, Boogers and Bleries

Here are some of the series I've produced for the Geotripper Blog:

The Other California: what to see when you've seen all the really famous places in the Golden State (in progress).

Into the Great Unknown: A rafting journey down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. The most incredible adventure of my life (so far)!

The Hawai'i That Was: An exploration of the geology, natural history, and anthropology of the most isolated lands on the planet. It's a lot more than beaches, shopping, and palm trees!

Vagabonding on Dangerous Ground: An exploration of the Cascadia Subduction Zone from Northern California to British Columbia

Where the Sierra Nevada Rises from the Sea: A journey through the Salinian Block, the displaced Sierran rocks between Big Sur and Point Reyes on the California Coast

Driving Across the Most Dangerous Plate Boundary in the World: A journey across the former subduction zone that formed much of Central California, including the Coast Ranges, the Great Valley, and the Sierra Nevada.

Vagabonding Across the 39th Parallel: A journey through the geological wonderland in central Nevada, Utah and Colorado.

A Convergence of Wonders, a compilation of posts on our journey through the Pacific Northwest and Northern Rocky Mountains in 2011.

The Abandoned Lands, a compilation of posts on our journey around the margins of the Colorado Plateau in 2012.

Out of nowhere, a strange political issue: California's state rock is serpentine, and there is a effort to remove it. Learn why we shouldn't in this series of posts on a beautiful rock.

Time Beyond Imagining: A "Brief" History of the Colorado Plateau - this was an extended exploration of the geology of one of the great geological showplaces on planet Earth

Under the Volcano and Into the Abyss: Yosemite National Park - Exploring a few of the lesser known corners of Yosemite Valley, from below and from above

The Airliner Chronicles: My First Blog Series - Seeing geology from the perspective of seven miles above.

See Of Vooks and Blooks (and the comments) for an explanation of the title!