I hiked up to the weather observatory on Mauna Loa and shot the cairn
of lava rocks early in the morning as the coastal clouds obscured the sky
for everybody else.
To cut to the chase...
Photographed from Mauna Loa Volcano, Hawaii
(Konica Autoreflex TC with 1500 mm lens, f8, 1/125, Ektachrome 200)
If you notice, the hot pink features are solar prominences that are shooting out thousands of miles from the sun's surface. These are objects that are about 93 million miles away!
Total Solar Eclipse July 11, 1991 copyright (c) Bob Gross
Despite how simple this looks...
I had to lug a 67 pound backpack up to the 12,000 foot level of the volcano, crossing miles of exposed lava fields. Not fun. I slept in volcanic lava tubes overnight twice. Great shelters. Ten pounds of cameras, super lens, tripod, film, backup camera, etc. Sort of a once in a lifetime experience.
Then hike back down to the sea to watch Kilauea spilling its yellow
lava into the sea.
After the eclipse, I came down to the laid-back civilization of Volcano Village. After a hot shower and a good meal, I was ready for another adventure day. With virtually nothing with me, I walked up to the national park entrance and walked over to the Volcano House Hotel. There I purchased some items in the gift shop: one small bottle of water, one small box of macadamia nut cookies, and those were in a flimsy plastic shopping bag. I had my camera on my belt and my hat on my head. I hitchhiked out on the Chain of Craters Road to an intermediate trailhead and started walking. Well, it was already cloudy and foggy and cool, and I had nothing more than a thin long sleeve shirt on my back. I hiked out the trail toward the new volcanic vent. If I had all day and good weather, then I could have gotten close enough to see the eruption. But it was a bad day. After I had hiked through the rough lava trail for miles, it was misting on me, but I kept going. Finally, in the late afternoon, I had to make a decision. I huddled into the protection of the only grove of trees on that trail. I drank my water and ate my cookies as I contemplated my fate. The rain was blowing, but I had no rain jacket, so I ripped the flimsy plastic sack so that it would cover 80% of my back. I turned around on the trail and headed back to the road, clutching the plastic over one shoulder and then the other. Fueled on cookies and water, I could just barely keep myself warm. At each old volcanic crater that I passed, I would linger around for a minute, looking for minute whisps of warm volcanic steam. Then I would hurry on my way. I made it back near the road before sundown. There was an older couple hiking along the trail, so I struck up a conversation with them. Of course, they had a car and they offered me a ride back to the visitor center. I walked back to my bed & breakfast lodging a few miles from there.
After that, I carry my rain jacket just about everywhere.
See you for the next big eclipse over Cleveland in a few years.
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In 1991, I found out about the upcoming Total Solar Eclipse that was going to happen in early July, and it was going to be visible along an arc from Hawaii, across Baja California, and then down into South America. Of course, the width of the band of totality tends to be measured in tens of miles, and the period of totality tends to be single-digit minutes. Since I had been working out of an office in San Jose and commuting to Honolulu once per month on a project, I knew the Hawaiian Islands somewhat, and the Big Island was of tremendous interest to me. With about 4 months to prepare, I made my own commitment to photograph the eclipse from the Big Island. At 3 months in advance, I cashed in some of my American frequent flyer miles for a ticket to Honolulu. I figured that I would get to Hilo somehow when the time came. The best that I could do was a Honolulu ticket that got me there about 36 hours in advance of the 7:30 AM eclipse. Then I found out that the Honolulu to Hilo tickets were sold out. I got wait-listed on three Aloha Air flights until one worked out. That was going to get me to Hilo approximately 24 hours prior to the eclipse.
I checked into hotel and car rentals, and I found out that everything had been booked up by speculators who expected to resell reservations later and triple their investments. So, basically, there was no lodging or car. I did some reading of three different books about eclipses, and I found out some of the tricks. First of all, I probably did not want to be down around the coastline of the island anyway (where the hotels are). I studied the weather and found that the chance of clouds at 7:30 AM is bad. But if you go up to 6000 feet or higher, then the chances reduce. The higher you go, the less the chance of clouds. So I resolved that I would go up high on one of the two major volcanoes for the experience. I had previously hiked up and down Mauna Kea, so I decided that would be my first choice. However, I figured that I might have to spend some time up high on the volcano, and I figured that I might have to spend four days, worst case, depending on how it happened. During that four days, I might be above 13,000 feet with no support. Further, on volcanoes like that, there is no running water. Due to the volcanic soil, the water never runs off. It just soaks in. That meant that I would have to carry all the water that I needed for four days. Due to the cold of the mountaintop and the heat of the lava fields, I figured that I could get by on one gallon of water per day. But that meant that I would have to carry four gallons of water, and at eight pounds per gallon, that meant that I would carry 32 pounds worth of water along with all of the other stuff.
At about 3 months, I had the air figured out, and I had the water figured out. I tried to apply for a wilderness permit into Mauna Loa, and that would be my backup plan in case Mauna Kea would not work out. The National Park Service there is biased against mainlanders and biased for the local people. So my permit request was denied and they told me that the quota was taken up when it was not. Therefore, I would head to Mauna Kea first and then Mauna Loa if I could find the way to make it legal. You really do not want to be caught camping illegally inside a national park.
By about 2 months in advance, I had my camera equipment set. I was going to take my standard 35mm SLR camera, and I had outfitted it with a 500mm long telephoto lens. Then a 3x teleconverter. That made it effectively a 1500mm lens, which is about what I needed to get the sun's image big on the film. However, with camera, big tripod, big lens, solar filter, etc. the total camera package came up to weigh ten pounds. So now water and camera came up to 42 pounds. That is already a decent backpack load. Then I had to have sleeping bag and shelter, food, cook gear, clothing, etc. When all was packed, it would weigh 67 pounds, and the only way that I did it was from experience with ultralightweight backpacking in previous years. Well, for a guy my size, 67 pounds might as well be a ton.
So I got ready. On the appointed date, I flew out to Honolulu and milled around the airport overnight, since the Honolulu-Hilo flight was at 5:45 AM. I could not take any chance of getting bumped due to my lateness. I was flying with my pack stuffed and wrapped in plastic. I flew with the big water jugs empty of water. Then around 7 AM when I arrived in Hilo, I took the empty jugs into the restroom and filled them to the brim with tap water. Emerging from the airport with a 67-pound pack, I must have been a sight to behold.
I went to the taxi stand and grabbed a driver. I asked "How much to go up the Saddle Road to the saddle?" The driver scratched his chin and told me that it would be about fifty bucks. I told him "You're on. Let's go."
We drove up the terrible excuse for a road that they called the Saddle Road. Then when we were 3/4 of the way up, the taxi's transmission burned up. Maybe that was a message. That car was done, so I got out to walk. I think I gave the driver forty bucks since he had not gotten me all the way. I walked up the road a way, and a passing driver stopped and picked me up. At the top, at the saddle, I got out and thanked him. I turned north toward Mauna Kea and started walking up the access road until I was stopped by a Hawaii Civil Defense roadblock. The expensive astronomers on top of Mauna Kea could not tolerate having too much gravel road dust in the sky, and they could not tolerate tourists having car accidents on the winding mountain road, so they just blocked everybody. I tried to talk my way past the Civil Defense guards. I told them that I was going up the mountain, and that they could clear me with Ernie Shima back in Honolulu. Ernie was my customer for the project at the State of Hawaii government, and I just happened to know that he was head of the Civil Defense. The guards took my ID and actually called to Honolulu to reach Ernie, but they could not reach him, so that didn't work. I reluctantly turned around and walked south, back to the Saddle Road, then I continued south toward Mauna Loa. Mind you, I am carrying a pack of around 67 pounds! Not fun.
As I started walking south on the access road to Mauna Loa, I found an unattended roadblock, so I simply walked past it and continued. I had gone about 4 miles over the lava field road (very hot) until an illegal vehicle stopped for me and gave me a ride. They had decided to ignore the roadblock sign also. So I jumped in the back of that pickup truck and the two guys drove me up to the weather station at the 11,000 foot level. That was the end of the road. They had saved me maybe 13 miles of walking with about 5000 feet of elevation gain. I thanked them a lot. These two guys intended to hike up Mauna Loa that day and bag the summit, then return that day and drive back to their home. The amazing thing was that they did not have one ounce of water. Here I had my precious water that I had been carrying around, and they had saved me a day or more of travel, so I gave them two liters of water for their hike. That was the last that I saw of them.
I slowly walked up the trail from 11,000 feet to 12,000 feet. I had a good topo map and it showed me that I was just barely outside of the park boundary, so the park service had no jurisdiction over me and I could camp where I wanted to. Right there at 12,000 feet, I found a collapsed lava tube that formed a cave. A perfect shelter! This cave was about the size of a small pickup truck. So I camped there in the afternoon, and this was the day before the eclipse the next morning. Perfect. I got all of my camera gear set up by nightfall. I found some charcoal briquets in the cave (from a previous visitor), so I had some water boiled for instant soup and tea.
The next morning, I was up by 5 AM. Around 6 AM, the dawn began, so the sun slowly crawled up from the horizon. Before 7 AM, the moon was visible, and the sun was bright, and they collided in the sky. Before 7:30, totality began. I just happened to look west at the Pacific, and I saw this immense shadow sweeping across the ocean. That was the shadow of the moon. The eclipse! With the solar filter on my camera, I shot away. I went through at least one roll of film before and during, then changed and shot part of a second roll. When the eclipse was total, I removed the solar filter and shot without it. By 7:45, it was mostly all over, so I packed up my cameras and things and took a deep breath. Mission Complete. I was pretty sure that I got the shot, and there were no clouds or other problems. I could look down low toward the ocean and see lots of clouds about 6000 to 10,000 feet below me.
I packed my pack again, and it was still probably 60 pounds. I hiked up into the park and set my pack down around 13,000 feet near the main volcano crater, which is huge. Then without pack, I hustled up to the true summit around 13,700 feet. I shot another photo and then hustled back down through the colorful lava to my pack since it was raining and windy. Now I had to get myself out to safety. I could have gone back down the way that I had come up, but with no vehicle ride, that lava field road was going to be ugly. Instead, I went down the regular trail that almost everybody uses for hiking up and down: The Long Trail. By late in the afternoon, I had been walking in the rain for too long, and I was starting to feel cold, so I needed shelter. Since my first experience with the lava tube had been positive, I searched for another one on this trail where I was. The map showed me that I was now barely outside the park boundary again, and I took notice of that fact to find a camp. Sure enough, I found a tube within 25 feet of the trail. This one was low, maybe only three feet high, but that would work for me. Using military solid fuel tablets for boiling one cup of water at a time, I was able to get more instant soup and cocoa inside me, so I was a happy camper again. I had the tiniest flashlight for light, so I really could not use it much during the night. In the morning, I crawled out of my lava cave and found the terrain to be covered in frost. Geez, there I was at around 12,000 feet, and there is nothing but brown lava and white frost to be seen. Quite a sight. Not a soul around.
So again I packed up and headed down the long trail, toward Hawaii Volcanoes Park Headquarters at Kilauea (where I had been once before). At around 10,000 feet, I passed the old cabin where some people had stayed overnight. I continued stumbling down the lava trail and made it to the trailhead around 7500 feet by noon or so. There was one angry park ranger. She asked to see my permit, and I explained to her that I had been camped out, but I had been outside the park boundary, so she couldn't do anything to me.
I stood there in the trailhead parking lot, and I needed to get a lift down toward the park headquarters and civilization. I had been out in lava tubes for two nights, and I looked a mess. Some locals were there in a pickup truck, and they gave me a ride down the road. The way they were drinking beer and driving around corners, I was scared to death. When we got down near the park entrance, they asked me where I wanted to go. I told them to just let me out anywhere there by the highway entrance where it was convenient. Instead, they drove me on into the park entrance gate. When the park ranger asked for the vehicle entrance fee, $5 bucks or something, the beery driver simply said "We're just driving him in" as he motioned toward me in the back. They let me out by the visitor center, and then they wheeled around and tore back out past the ranger toward the highway. I went to the visitor center men's room to clean up. I had one clean Aloha shirt sealed in a plastic bag, so I washed up the minimum and continued my walk.
Since I knew that all of the normal lodging on the island was booked up, I expected not to find lodging. But I did have a list of the Bed&Breakfast spots. I started calling to those closest to me, and I came up empty until I got almost to the bottom of the list. One voice said "Where are you?" and I told him that I was about two miles away from his spot. He asked "How many of you are in the party?" and I told him it was just me. He asked "How long will it take you to drive here?" and I told him that I was on foot, but it would be 30-60 minutes. He told me to come on down. So I walked two more miles with about fifty pounds in my pack. I got to the Bed&Breakfast and the owner told me that the normal per person rate was $30, but if I wanted the sofa, I could do that for only $20. That was fine. I threw off my pack, took a hot shower (well needed), and then I needed a meal. I asked the owner, and he directed me to a restaurant up the road. They were completely booked up for their normal dinner seating, but if I could get there early, then they would feed me. Fine. I walked that mile and had a most fantastic meal. Or maybe it was that I was hungry! I think I had a couple of glasses of wine. Excellent.
After staying the night at the Bed&Breakfast, I feasted on a big Hawaii-style breakfast in the morning. Other tourists were there. I caught a ride back up to the park headquarters that morning. Then I caught another ride out the Chain of Craters Road about half-way. I had virtually nothing along with me. I was wearing shorts and a short sleeve shirt, no rain jacket, a camera, a baseball cap, light boots, and a plastic shopping bag containing one small box of Macadamia nut cookies and one pint bottle of water. I hiked eastward toward the Puu Oo volcanic vent. That was the fairly new eruption area, and it was out on a rough trail maybe at the eight mile point. I figured that I might get close enough to shoot a photo. Well, it was foggy and cool, and I wandered out along the rough lava trail. I stopped at some of the warm fume vents for a minute, then continued. By mid-day, the light mist was making me cold again. So I stopped in a bunch of trees called a kipuka. This is where the lava had flowed around the bunch and left the trees standing. There I rapidly munched down the cookies and drank the water. Then I tore up the plastic bag and stretched it across my shoulders to make a rain cape. Not much, but barely adequate. I could not shoot any photos because of the fog and mist. I turned around and headed back to the road. I kept stopping at each warm fume vent again. Ohia berries were growing on tiny bushes. I knew these to be edible, and something like a gooseberry. Slightly tart. So I ate some of the berries that I found and continued the march out. As I neared the road, there was an older couple hiking. I knew that they would have a car at the trailhead, and I was right, so they gave me a lift back to the park headquarters and I got back to the Bed&Breakfast for the second night.
There was a group of photographer tourists there. They were from Boston, and they had joined in on a photo tour specifically for the eclipse. The guide was the editor of some photo magazine, and these people had paid big bucks for this eclipse photo shoot. But he had them booked into a resort hotel down by the coastline, and they had almost solid clouds. They did not get the shot! They were pissed that the weather had closed over and the expensive trip was mostly a dud. I quietly listened to all of this, then I announced that I had been sitting up at 12,000 feet with clear skies, and that I was positive that I got the shot. I had exposed film that was unprocessed. Then they were doubly pissed, since I was not paying for any expensive guide or hotels or anything. The photo editor kind of disappeared then.
Anyway, the next day I hitched another ride back out to the Hilo Airport. I got bumped off one or two flights and then got on the third one back to Honolulu. Once back at the Honolulu Airport, I stashed my backpack in a locker and rode the bus to downtown and to Waikiki. I was pretty familiar with that area due to my project work with the state, so I spent an evening hanging out and enjoying the tropical breeze. Then I got back out to the airport and caught a red-eye flight back to San Jose, getting in around dawn one day. That was quite a whirlwind trip.