Travels with Dan

Helicopters over Hawaii

One of the few things that Glen said he really wanted to do on this trip was to see flowing lava. When the volcano erupted on Big Hawaii over a month ago, we thought we’d not get the chance to see it due to closed airports or roads or what have you. But we booked a helicopter ride anyway, the tour company saying they were still going ahead.

We left Honolulu at 9:30am on Tuesday morning, after spending the night in the city. We’d travelled all day to get from Toronto to San Francisco to Honolulu, getting a lie-flat seat for the five-hour flight from San Fran to Honolulu and getting a bit of shut eye. We caught a taxi from the airport to the hotel, went down the road for dinner and then went to bed around 10pm, struggling with the five-hour time difference between Hawaii and Toronto.

The flight from Honolulu to Hilo on Big Hawaii took about an hour. (And it’s Hilo as in Lilo, not Hilo as in Milo—or the milk.) We landed into a humid tropical island, everything green and just on the right side of muggy. We picked up the hire car and drove the 10 minutes from the airport to our hotel, passing a drive-through restaurant that had a sign that said, ‘If no can, no can. If can, Verna’s.’ What on earth does that mean?!

We checked into Hilo Hawaiian Hotel much earlier than expected. I’d thought we’d be able to dump our luggage and then check-in after our helicopter ride but the woman behind the counter said she had a room on the top floor with a king bed that was ready now if we wanted that. Yes, we wanted that. She then joked that it would cost $100 for an early check-in but I didn’t quite get the joke so she had to quickly say she wasn’t serious. We were just glad to check-in early.

After a quick lunch in the hotel cafe, we drove back to the airport for our 12:30pm check-in for our helicopter ride. There was about an hour of pre-flight stuff to go through, getting weighed, going through the safety briefing and being assigned our helicopter and seat. We’d booked an hour-long volcano and waterfalls ride in a helicopter with no doors. This meant there were only four passengers plus the pilot. Glen and I had seats 3 and 4 respectively, giving us window-views (the only person who wasn’t by a window was the girl in seat 1 who sat between her dad and the pilot. She would have been much less buffeted by the wind than us.

We were taken out to the tarmac, given our life vests and headsets, then walked out to our helicopter. Our pilot’s name was Matt. The helicopter blades were 10 feet off the ground so we didn’t have to worry about getting our heads chopped off (unless we jumped when we climbed in). We were strapped into our seats, our headsets connected to the PA system, and soon the helicopter was smoothly launching into the air.

This was our first time in a helicopter and I was mildly fearful of the situation, imagining all sorts of crash scenarios with hideous outcomes. But those fears quickly faded away as we ascended into the air and set off up the coast to the most recent volcanic activity.

We were advised to wear long pants and a jacket because, with no doors, it was cold and windy inside the helicopter. I could have done with wearing a thicker set of pants. My face, especially my ears, was constantly batted by the wind, which also made it harder to keep a camera steady, but at least there was no window in the way. (Once or twice I did wonder about the strength and sturdiness of my seatbelt.)

The pilot flew us towards where the lava flow has met the sea, but before that we were flying over areas of land where the lava had already been. It took me a while to realise what I was looking at which was cooled lava turned to black stone, some of it now covering the road where it had passed. Some of the vegetation remained green and lush, while a large amount was now yellow having died from the noxious fumes. It was a strange thing to witness.

Plumes of sulphurous smoke billowed into the sky where the lava met the sea, which had also turned turquoise. Along the coast we could also see small sections of red glowing lava that hadn’t yet cooled. While these areas in themselves were impressive, they were nothing compared to what came next.

The pilot flew the helicopter up to the source of all this trouble, Fissure 8. Due to the fact that it’s still spewing lava and gas, regulations mean we couldn’t go fewer than 3000 ft above the fissure. This, however, didn’t matter. We still got an excellent view of this molten lava pumping out an endless supply of lava. It was incredible. Occasional fountains burst up into the air, but otherwise it just kept going. The lava then cooled into a grey river that was hurtling down towards the ocean. It. Was. Amazing. And best of all, Glen couldn’t keep the smile from his face.

We didn’t have a lot of time left after this but the pilot took us over the highway were successive fissures had cracked the highway but so far hadn’t released any lava (though the authorities are still cautious). If they do go, it’s going to make things even more difficult for getting around the south of the island. Volcano National Park is still mostly closed, and as a result of the eruption, 600 homes have been lost. The clean up from this is going to be epic.

From the highway we went towards the rainforest, flew over some beautiful waterfalls, and then returned to the landing pad, giddy with excitement from what we’d seen. We got out of the helicopter, nevertheless a little worried about the blades chopping our heads off, and then collected our stuff and returned to the hotel.

We absolutely loved it and are so glad to have done it. We were extremely fortunate that this natural disaster meant unprecedented viewing opportunities. For your reference, the company we went with was Paradise Helicopters and they did an excellent job.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the hotel room, almost sleeping because it was late in Toronto and we’d also been awake since 5am Honolulu time. In the evening we went for Chinese at a suburban restaurant down the road, which was much better than expected. And then we were back at the hotel and ready for sleep by 8pm. Oh, how much stamina we have! The birdsong at dusk has given way to a million frogs singing, so I’m hoping I can get to sleep otherwise I’ll be cracking out the earplugs.

And for those of you who grow fiddle-leaf figs at home, you ain’t got nothing on the monsters that grow here. There are some beside our hotel which are at least seven storeys high.