Happy New Year 2023!

In a piece of good news for the final hours of 2022, I discovered an early Christmas gift in that the two papers from my PhD, the completion of which has eaten up so much of my free time this year, were officially published in the Monthly Notices of the Royal Astronomical Society on Christmas Eve. It's been a multi-year journey writing these papers (I think I started back in 2019 or possibly even late 2018), and I originally submitted them to MNRAS at the beginning of April so it's been almost 8 months getting them published as well. (Much longer than the average, according to my advisors.) These papers have been hanging over my head for most of the year and taken a lot of my outside-of-work hours to bring to completion, so I am extraordinarily relieved to see them finally published; I am, in a sense, finally “done” with my PhD. And now that I am, and have more energy and free time to do so, I hope to have a post (or perhaps a short series) out sometime next month actually explaining what my thesis is about. Tangentially, even counting this post, this year will mark the lowest number of posts-per-year for this blog, and it's hard to escape the conclusion that a large part of that was me not being able to summon the motivation to write more when I was already spending so much of my evenings and weekends finishing up papers/responding to referee reports/checking proofs for errors that inexplicably appear in the process of typesetting. With that out of the way, I hope to have a bit more time for doing interesting things, which will hopefully translate into more posts sharing said interesting things.

My life hasn't been completely devoid of interest this year, of course; getting a drone has been and continues to be a source of excitement and fresh perspectives on things, even if my dreams of up-close lava examination were dashed by no-fly zones during Mauna Loa's streak-breaking eruption. That aside, there are still plenty of awesome landscapes to explore on this island, and I expect to continue to do so next year.

And it's also true that some things in life are better when they're not exciting, like one's employment status and having a steady place to live. Thankfully both of those have been staidly boring this year, just the way I like it. That's not to say that my job is boring; while it might not be exciting, it remains consistently interesting, for which I am grateful. I've learned a lot about how DRAGONS works over the past year and have been able to make some significant contributions of my own (along with a lot of small improvements in between larger projects). Ultimately 2023 looks to be largely more of the same, and I am very much ready for it.

With that, as the firecrackers continue to thunder intermittently in the distance and 2022 draws to a close, I look forward to another hopefully “unexciting” year to come. (Though there may be some things of interest on the horizon to share.) A hui hou!

A Christmas volcano visit for 2022

Merry Christmas everyone! I finally got around to editing together a video from drone footage I got back on November 29 when I went up to see Mauna Loa's eruption on its second full day. I flew from Puʻu Huluhulu out towards where the lava was flowing, but it was still so far away at that point that even at the limit of my signal range it didn't look all that impressive on my controller screen. Which is a shame, because it meant I didn't bother taking that much video at the closest point, whereas it actually looks fairly neat when blown up to a larger size; a good lesson to learn for the future, I suppose.

One other very cool event occurred along the way, however, which I really wanted to include in a video and is a good part of why I eventually made this one. I left the camera recording while flying out toward the lava flow, and perhaps halfway there a flock of birds appeared out of nowhere, flying and diving around and in front of my drone. I almost had a heart attack as my first thought was that they they might attack the drone, but they simply flew along with it for around half a minute before diving out of sight. I'm not sure why they decided to fly along, as I was deliberately flying nearly at my height ceiling to avoid disturbing any wildlife that might be on the ground; maybe they were just passing by and decided to follow along for fun? You can watch the video and judge for yourself:

Just to be clear, while a no-fly zone was put in place over the eruption area the next day, to the best of my knowledge this was still an acceptable flight when I did it. It's a bit disappointing to me that there wasn't any flying allowed for the rest of the eruption, but I guess the lesson to be learned is to jump on the next one quickly. Anyway, that's my Christmas present to all of you this year. I may have some more mauna*-related drone photos/videos in the not-too-distant future, but we'll see how things play out. Mele Kalikimaka, a hui hou!

*Loa and kea.

Latest eruption wrapping up, it looks like

Well, it was fun while it lasted: over the past few days the indications are that Mauna Loa's latest eruption is coming to an end. It's always possible it could restart, of course, but observations of past eruptions suggest that's pretty unlikely. Interestingly, Kīlauea's latest eruption (which started the day I returned to Hilo last year, September 29th) also seems to have stopped, with the lava lake in its caldera abruptly cooling and solidifying. It's an open question how much influence the two volcanoes have on each other – for instance, historically Mauna Loa has often been active while Kīlauea was quiet, and vice versa, but that's certainly not always true. They're definitely two separate volcanoes with separate magma reservoirs, and go off independently, but their general proximity makes it seem likely that there could be some degree of influence between them. It's possible that magma erupting from Mauna Loa in this eruption relieved pressure on Kīlauea's magma chamber and in some part caused its eruption to end, for instance. But it remains an area of active research for now.

On the mundane side of things, this means Saddle Road is no longer in danger of being overflowed, which, depending on where it happened, could've been very bad news for the observatories on Maunakea (not to mention a very large number of other people who rely on Saddle Road to get across the island). The observatories on Mauna Loa remain cut off, as the flow crossed the Mauna Loa access road very early on in the eruption. It was definitely strange to see photos of it, considering how familiar I am with that road. Assuming that the eruption has indeed stopped at this point, I'm curious to see how long it'll take for the road to be reopened (or rebuilt?) and when I can get up to its end again. Once that happens and the volcano is deemed safe and the summit trails reopened I definitely would like to tackle hiking Mauna Loa's summit again, to see where the fresh lava coated the caldera's floor.

And that brings up the really interesting question: when will the next eruption happen? The thirty-eight year period between the previous eruption and this one was the longest in recorded history for Mauna Loa. Prior to this, it erupted fairly frequently; I've seen five and nine years for its average eruption frequency, so it might depend on how you count, but the point is that it happened pretty often. Of course, there was significant variability among historical eruptions, with multiple eruptions sometime occurring in a single year and a recent twenty-five year quiet period from 1950 to 1975. So who knows? We might be back to seeing eruptions every few years, or it might be decades again before the next one. We'll just have to wait and see! As I've said at least once before on this blog, life's never dull when you live on an active volcano in the middle of the ocean. A hui hou!

Lava viewing on Mauna Loa

It's been an exciting week as Mauna Loa continues to erupt here on Hawaiʻi island for the first time in 38 years. On Monday night last week (the first full day of the eruption) it was clear enough that from Hilo we could see a red glow in the sky off to the west. It wasn't the easiest to capture on camera, but here's a passable photo of it:

Glow of lava off to the west, as seen from Hilo.

My family left for home the next morning, and since I had the rest of the day off I took the opportunity to head up Saddle Road to see if I could see the lava. To make a long story short, the answer was yes, after an hour waiting around for clouds to lift. Which they did, thankfully, a little before sunset, allowing a good view of the rivers of molten rock coursing down Mauna Loa's sides from Puʻu Huluhulu.

Lava seen through trees on Puʻu Huluhulu (and clouds).

Here you can see a lava fountain in silhouette high up on the rift zone and the lava as it snaked its way down the volcano. This is as good a time as any to mention that I got a new phone last month, the Pixel 7 Pro, and I'm finding myself rather impressed with its camera. While its maximum 30× zoom isn't anything I'd want to share, I find it can still get good results like this into the teens× zoom range, and certainly much better than my previous (almost 5-year-old) phone (which got pretty bad beyond maybe ~2–3×). Anyway, here's one last wide photo to get a better sense of the scale:

View south from Puʻu Huluhulu toward lava coming down Mauna Loa.

The lava was still pretty far away at that point (I think about 18 km), so even though I tried sending my drone out towards it I couldn't get close enough for the view to appreciably change. The news since then has been all about how the front of the flow is approaching Saddle Road, though it's been getting slower over time as the lava reaches flatter areas, and even if it continues at it's current pace unabated (which is unlikely) it'll be over a week before it reaches the road. It'd be pretty major if it did, as Saddle Road is the shortest route between the east and west sides of the island and thus a major thoroughfare, and no matter which side of the Maunakea access road it hypothetically covers it'd create a major headache for some of the observatories up there. It's currently coming pretty much straight down the line dividing east from west, so at some point it'll have to split to one side or the other, and then we'll probably have a better idea of where (and if) it'll cross the road. (If it heads west, the road rises higher on Maunakea's slopes and will probably be fine; east is a bit more iffy, considering the road currently sits on lava flows from mid-last-century.)

I haven't been up since Tuesday since the weather has, unfortunately, been rather poor, often with thick clouds over the Saddle region meaning I wouldn't see much of anything even if I did go up. (It got lost among all the volcano coverage, but we actually got snow on Maunakea's summit the same night the eruption started.) I'm definitely keeping an eye on things, though, and if the weather clears up enough to make viewing reasonable I'll probably be heading up the mountain again, camera(s?) in tow. Anyway, to summarize, no one's in danger at this point (historical evidence suggests that the eruption will remain confined to the northeast rift zone and not threaten people on the west and south), and any potential danger to infrastructure is also likely not imminent (and even then, it's ultimately just a road, rather than a residential neighborhood or something). It has been (and will continue to be) very interesting to watch this develop, though! A hui hou!