Craig Ellenwood Art Collections

Royal Gardens

I heard about a man named Jack Thompson who lived in an abandoned subdivision on the side of Kilauea volcano on the Big Island. I did some research and got his phone number, called him, and asked him if I could come stay with him for three nights and take some photos. He said sure, come on out and as timing had it, Madame Pele was currently pumping tons of lava down the mountainside just 400 yards from his house, the closest it's been for over 12 years. I spent a week looking at USGS photos, maps, videos and made my reservations to fly in by helicopter arriving on August 5th, full moon. All the roads and most of the lots in the subdivision have been covered with lava, so the only way in and out is helicopter, or a steep three mile hike over hellish hot uneven lava. I took a cooler full of meat, a 25 lb bag of rice, and a large box of powdered milk as Jack requested. He used to ride his motorcycle over the lava to Hilo for supplies, but the recent flow has made that impossible. The end of his street runs straight into a 20 foot high wall of lava, still smoking and hot. Royal Gardens July 31 2009 (HVO photo) August 8 2009 (HVO photo) The helicopter made a precision landing on a thin but well maintained strip of road in front of a beautiful cedar house with large lanai overlooking the lava field and ocean where the lava tube finally ends in a dramatic plume of steam. I got out of the helicopter, the other passengers were tourists taking a 30 minute flight around the volcano, then back to the safety of their hotel rooms in Hilo or Kona. They looked me with a combination of jealosy and fear. A look that begs to be asked, "Are you nuts?" The pilot wished me good luck and shook my hand. As the helicopter lifted off I thought was here for 4 days and 3 nights, there will be no turning back now. craig photo craig photo Jack's house Jack Thompson I looked off the lanai I noticed a lot of smoke coming from about 200 yards in front of the house. Jack didn't seem worried and explained that the lava had cut a path through the jungle and was burning some vegetation downhill. Jack has lived there since the early 80's and as soon as he put the last window in, the lava started coming down the hill covering everything in it's path. Miles of it in every direction, all the way down to the ocean but somehow sparing his house and a pocket of land surrounding it. Jack has nurtured his land. He grows 7 kinds of mangos, 2 kinds of avocados, coconuts, and many vegetables. It is a lush landscape, and I can only imagine what it must have looked like 30 years ago with jungle all the way to the beach, now a black and steamy landscape that has been reclaimed. I asked Jack what made him decide to move to Royal Gardens. He said that as a child he saw a photo of Black Sand Beach at Kalapana and "knew with a burning passion that was where he was going to live". I noted his choice of words and the irony of his situation. Jack is a man who has no need for neighbors, the government or the comforts most of us take for granted. He is a man, who like the small bit of jungle called a "kipuka" he lives on, is cut off from civilization with the exception of a satellite phone that he uses to give weather reports on to the helicopter companies. Jack is a man living on an island, within an island. After a brief tour of his property I asked Jack what was safe to walk on and what wasn't out near on the lava flow. He simply said your feet will tell you where you can't go. With that being the sole nugget and reference for what I was about to do, I strapped on my camera bag, put my hiking boots on and ventured out onto the lava. The only way I can describe walking on top of lava that had been molten magma only hours earlier is like walking on styrofoam sheets. It makes a loud crunch and the top layer sometimes breaks, but you don't fall through into the molten stuff underneath you or at least that's the goal. You can certainly see it though the cracks, it glows a bright orange. When my shoes began to smoke I knew I was directly on top of the lava tube and over the tip of some hardened lava I saw a fresh breakout of lava. I set my camera up and took a few shots. Trees were falling down on either side of me, the lava chopping them down as efficiently as a chainsaw. As lava covers green wood and leaves, methane accumulates and occasionally explodes, sending fireballs 30 feet into the air. Lava when it's close and on the move makes a crunchy noise like breaking glass. It's 2000 degrees! craig photo As I walked back across the lava the first night I noticed my soles flapping, the glue holding them on had completely melted away. Luckily Jack had ShoeGoo on hand and by morning they were ready for more abuse. I was caught in passing showers in the day and night time, providing me with unbelievably bright rainbows, and lots of rising steam. Probably the most tense moments were Friday night for an hour of complete darkness except for the glow of the lava all around me. The moon rises later each evening and it was 8pm, no sign of the moon. The ground under me was making noises, cooling from the heat of the day. Settling..and making me very unsettled. The wind blew through cracks in the lava sounding like an eerie whistle, at times harmonic. I closed my eyes and imagined that Pele was singing a song. It was very unearthly, yet came from the earth. More methane explosions occasionally lit up the darkened night like a bright strobe. I didn't dare take a step even with a flashlight. The surfaces were so uneven that a fall would have been disastrous. I stood on a cold patch of lava, leaning on my tripod and gradually I saw the eastern sky lighten, the moon was rising! I took advantage of the beautiful moonlight to take a few more photos, then headed back to Jack's drank a couple cold beers and watched the fireworks and steam plume at the ocean entry from the relative safety of his porch swing. I'll be going back to shoot more photos and video with the hopes of making a short documentary film.