Time For Action

I don't really have time to be writing right now, but I hear there's not much in the mainland news about the lava flow heading to Pahoa, and us... It's huge! It's the real deal.
And we are in the path.

Mike took this where our road meets the highway, about 4 miles from home. The lava steam and smoke created the big cloud in the center, more smoke rising in the foreground beneath it.

The anxiety is overwhelming at times. This long drawn-out drama, while affording everyone time to get things done and arranged and moved, is also very taxing on everyone's nerves. They (officials, not just gossip) say Pahoa town is likely to disappear the way Kalapana did, and Kapoho before it. If not in the next couple weeks, then months... or agonizing years (like Kalapana).

Thank goodness there is work happening now, full speed ahead, opening up the old Railroad right of way and Beach Road. Huge trucks, graders, and enormous Cats roar by at all hours... and that's okay. These roads will be the lifeline to Hilo and all that implies.

Several of our friends who also live in this neighborhood in the direct path of the flow are moving their furnishings and stuff into storage; then it’s wait and see if we have to leave our homes. Others are leaving the area, or even the islands, entirely. Our ohana is breaking apart. Those who are staying in Puna District now talk in terms of "which side will you be on", meaning the division that the lava flow will make once it cuts off the highway... then Railroad... then Beach Road, between 'our side' and the Hilo side. (The l-o-n-g way 'round through Chain of Craters and into the back side of Volcanoes National Park will only be opened up after Beach Rd is over-run.)

(click to enlarge photo)

I hate that Lori and I will be on opposite sides of this instead of only 17 minutes away from each other. I cannot quite believe that we are likely going to lose our home, our piggery barn, and our farm. We've already canceled reservations for our vacation rental and issued refunds to incoming guests. We've already stopped selling animal feeds because we will be unable to get more before the predicted highway overrun time frame. We are down to one pig now and deciding about the laying flock. Less to move, more time for us to be doing what needs to be done right now.

We are counting ourselves fairly lucky in that we do have somewhere to go if it comes to it. Our new land has an old building on it that used to be a banana packing shed. I admit it won't be quite so bad once the place is gutted, deep-cleaned, painted, and fixed up for living in and storage of our furnishings, etc. Two rooms for us, two for storage, and a feed room of sorts with a washer. These preparations are in full swing. Soon we can start moving stuff, lighten our last-minute load here. It would have been high adventure at 20-something--and it was, doing stuff like this!--but at 50-something, not so much.

Yesterday, we finally got a chance to get to Hilo for supplies. It's another world, a more 'normal' world. Took a while to adjust. Best find of the day: empty boxes at Home Depot. They were stocking shelves and I was helping them clear the aisles.

I was a bit disappointed that we didn't see any glow from the lava as we drove home. I mean, if it's going to put us in such danger, we should at least get to see the beauty of it, too, right?

Lava Heading Our Way!

I fully intended to give a more detailed account of our experience with Hurricane Iselle, downgraded to Tropical Storm status as she moved ashore and wreaked her havoc on our part of the island...

BUT our focus has shifted from that now faraway storm to another natural disaster happening in our Puna district of Hawaii Island (aka the Big Island) - LAVA!

Sure, lava flows almost continuously somewhere on the island, but it's not everyday you get lava aiming right for your town, let alone your home. This is what's happening now. It's flowing just above Pahoa, and if it continues on its current path, will likely flow right close by to our house. Yikes!

This one is called the June 27th Flow because that's when it started. It's been making its way downhill ever since. Folks closer to the flow front are moving themselves and their livestock before the official evacuation order goes out. That's a good idea as it's been quite voggy and smoky as sulphur dioxide is emitted and trees burn up in the flow. The smoke plume is just above Pahoa, lurking there and looking ominous.

If the lava hits the highway--and it will if it keeps flowing--this end of lower Puna will be completely cut off from the rest of the island. There is only one road in or out from here, and no port, only one measly little boat ramp at Pohoiki. Needless to say, this is a BIG DEAL!

There is talk of opening some of the older roads that have been allowed to fall into disrepair - something that should have been done ages ago. Another option is reopening Chain of Craters Road that once connected Hawaii Volcanoes National Park and the little town of Kalapana... before lava overtook the entire area and buried that town 20 feet deep. That was back in 1986-1990, not so long ago. It would sure be a long drive to Hilo that way, but better than nothing.

Maps are being issued every few days and I bet the USGS status update site has never gotten so many hits. There are community Civil Defense meetings held in Pahoa two or three times a week, with larger and larger crowds attending to find out just what is going on and what, if anything, we can do about it. Be prepared comes to mind. Plan for the big What If.

Earth crack at Volcanoes Nat Park.

Fortunately, lava moves fairly slowly on this side of the island due to terrain and topography. It's a long gentle slope to the sea, chopped up with giant earth cracks and jumbled with hard lava from previous flows. Pu'u O'o, the source of all this lava, tends to ooze rather than explode all at once like Mount St Helens did. This gives us plenty of time to see exactly where Madame Pele will wander this time and just who she'll choose to visit. This is her island after all.

It's all part of living on the side of a volcano, and after all, it's how these Hawaii Islands were formed. We knew that coming in... in theory. Now for the real life application, the hands-on experience. Maybe... or maybe not. We're in wait and see mode.

We're Okay

The sky at first light, post-hurricane.

I'll do a 'real' hurricane post eventually, but for now I just want to get the word out that we all survived Iselle.

I thought we would lose the screenhouse for sure. Not quite.

We made it through Tropical Storm Iselle, thank goodness, with minimal damage, none to the house, barn, coops, us, or our animals. Our kids, Lori & Dave are fine, too, their home undamaged, though there are many, many more trees down at their place. They brought their freezer goods to put into one of ours for a while since we had a generator.

Mike and I walked up and down our street at first light the morning after to make sure our neighbors were all okay. And so far, no one has been reported as badly hurt. All our friends are okay and their homes undamaged. It's a miracle!

Everyone's been sharing whatever tidbits of news any of us may have gleaned one way or another, and those who can share drinking water, a hot shower, cell phone charging, ice. Donations are starting to come in by the truckload and are being distributed throughout Puna, the district that received the most damage from Iselle. The old stables/Community Center in our neighborhood has become one of the main distribution hubs for ice, water, non-perishable foods, etc, and power for cell phone charging. National Guard trucks rumble by, helicopters circle overhead--all to assess the damage, I guess, though the governor and other officials have been out sight-seeing, too.

Fleets of electric company trucks have been a welcome sight as they work their way through the tangle of downed wires and trees to restore power street by street. Most of the area does not yet have power restored. We are so lucky to live on the same street as our community water system so we got power WAY ahead of most folks. 8000 people are still without electricity and likely will be for quite some time. And we were never without water. Our cable just came back a few minutes ago, so we have internet again, the phone is working, and I suppose the telly works again too, for what that's worth.

It was so weird being so completely out of the loop. Think about it: without power and with all communications down, we had no way of knowing anything we didn't see with our own eyes, or hear with our own ears, or what someone told us face to face. I'm grateful to be able to check emails and get news again. And very thankful for and humbled by all the loving thoughts and prayers from far away.

Our "protein field" looking a bit battered, but it will come back.

Land-warming Party

Last weekend we hosted a big shindig on our new land, inviting good friends and our new neighbors to help us celebrate. My photos didn't turn out all that well, probably because I was having so much fun that I forgot to take pics until it was almost dusk! Fortunately, a couple others shared their photos and allowed me to use them here.

We spent most of the week ahead of time, doing massive party prep. Mike had just finished drilling and pounding the last of the perimeter fence posts in place so our full attention was turned to party preparations. The circle drive was mowed with the tractor, and all the smaller side roads, too, the better for hiking and exploring. More mowing to open up space for the pop-ups, tables, and chairs... and for parking... and the campfire...

Since there are no amenities on the land as yet, he built an outhouse, and then had to clear a path to access the rustic, but very appreciated, facilities. I left a marking pen inside and our guests had fun creating messages and graffiti. Acacia especially enjoyed having the freedom to draw on the walls. Fun for the child in all of us!

The day finally arrived. I tied surveyor's tape streamers to the front gate to help set the mood and guide folks in. The top end of the center field was party central. We set up horseshoe pits and a campfire circle in the house site clearing across the drive.

Of course, there was a plentiful potluck. Everyone brought something delicious to the table.

Both Spirit Horse, and Blackie-kitty made appearances. Blackie joined a few of us on a long hike, and afterwards she made herself right at home under the potluck table where she was fed bits of hotdog and cheesecake until she literally couldn't eat another bite. She was still right there the next morning when we went back up to gather up stray items! Spirit, on the other hand, is very shy, but he let himself be seen and accepted a few carrots offered at full arm's length.

(photo courtesy of Robin Bush)

Late in the afternoon, an almost vertical stretch of rainbow appeared, reaching up from a gap in the trees where the deep blue ocean can be seen in the distance. At the same time, an unexpected flock of pure white cattle egrets swooped and soared over the far end of the cleared land while King Kamehameha butterflies flitted about in the foreground. I'd say both our land and the gathering were blessed right then, if they weren't already.

(Photo courtesy of Robin Bush)

As dusk approached, people began to migrate toward the campfire.

It is such a calming and primal feeling, gazing into the flames as the dark draws in around us. Voices murmur, laughter bursts forth, faces glow. There were s'mores and stories and eventually the stars came out until the sky was dazzling despite the lack of moon. This was the first time Mike and I had been up on our land this late in the day - and it was deeply satisfying. So quiet, so dark and starry. It felt like being home again. Mike and I have spent the vast majority of our lives in the boonies, so it was indeed comforting to feel this once again.

 

(Acacia's first s'mores - photo courtesy of Lori Meeker)

(photo courtesy of Robin Bush)

I'm not likely to ever forget such a perfect evening spent with good friends on the special piece of the island that will become our new farm. 

Aloha Kerry - a hui hou!

Two years ago, our youngest came to live with us for a while. Two weeks ago, she left for the mainland and the next venture in her life.

I'm glad Kerry got to do some of her favorite things before she left, like getting all dolled up for parties...

... spending time with her sister...

... exploring the volcano, inside and out...

 ... and soaking in the atmosphere of the new land in Kaimu, one of her very favorite spots on the island. (Mine, too!)

She will be missed, but she was ready to move on. All fledglings need to fly some time and the time had come for her to spread her wings again.

So, for a change of pace and to fulfill a lifelong dream, she has headed off to work on a ranch in Colorado. From there, it's likely she'll do the seasonal circuit of ranches and resorts around the country. What a great way to see different regions of the US! And then... why, the whole world awaits!

We were lucky to be able to have her here for a while. And for us, it's Empty Nest - Part Two, much easier than the first round, for sure. For one thing, we're not all alone on this rock in the middle of the ocean. Now we have good friends and even family close by. What a huge difference that makes!

A hui hou, Kerry! And happy trails!