Eyjafjallajökull volcano in photos

Eyjafjallajökull eruption, Iceland

A photographic essay.

[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXUytoaA-r8]

Ravaged Places

Photographed by Brenda l. McCartney

I remembered the first time I visited Montserrat after the volcanic crisis; a friend took me to visit the danger zone. Plymouth (the capital) was uninhabitable and totally abandoned, boxes of shoes lay in shoe stores, curtains blew from opened windows, and the town was so empty that you could hear an echoing sound from the wind in every direction. I did not cry and my friend asked if I was that cold. In hindsight, I realized there are certain losses that are deeper than tears. I carried the loss within me then and still now; for me it was a mixture of emotions.

In my later teens and into my early adulthood I enjoyed my island as everyone should. For example there were many Fridays I packed my clothes into a nap sack and did not return to my home until Mondays as I traversed every mountain trail, drank from many ghauts and rivers and rested under many trees that provided shade from South to North of Montserrat. I did not have a sleeping bag or tent but sheets and slept in the open under the sky. The spirituality of every track, soil, bank, hill, mountain and river that once thrust inside me had once again bonded me to those moments as I gazed at my ravaged town.  I am thankful that I experienced those sacred places and they took me in before they were filled with debris or were obliterated.

Another of my memories was going with my mother to her work place which stood on St. Georges Hill. That location provided one of the most picturesque views of Plymouth and surrounding villages. Later, I visited the location during another visit where the impact from the pyroclastic flow blew out the inside of the building and banked the cliff the building stood on just seconds short totally obliterating the entire place.

One of the most amazing things is that while I am writing this post, is that I did not verbalize what I am writing but my daughter just stood beside me saying that she was painting a volcano. That is the power of connection. So even though she is a descendant who has not traversed the ghauts, mountains, hills and gullies of Montserrat there is soulful connection. Isn’t life a mystery?

As the news media is bombarded with various natural disasters Iceland, Haiti, India, China, Montserrat and so many others, I empathize with the losses but there is one thing we all have that can never be taken from us. That is our memories; the stories, the experiences and the collective understanding as these calamities are all unique as they have affected what we call home.

Dome Blast

photographed by Susan MacLeod Edgecombe

What an afternoon! Today, Thursday, February 11, at about 1 pm, I heard people outside the office shouting and screaming and pointing up, I grabbed my camera, keys  and cell phone and rushed out the door towards my home on Bishop’s View. Two of my dogs would not come out of the bedroom, but my dog Freddie, brave little 14 year old fellow – lay at my feet as I watched and listened to the event (and it was LOUD!). Freddie followed me around the pool deck as I tried to get the perfect photos. A police officer a few doors away in the evacuated area saw me on the deck and started shouting at me to leave. I yelled back that I was not evacuated, so he jumped in his police car and whizzed around the rest of old town, siren wining! Wow! The noise and ash plumes and pyroclastic flows were as amazing as I have ever seen it before; it went on for almost an hour. The Montserrat Volcano Observatory Director didn’t come on radio for 40 minutes; the alarms started going off about 10 minutes into the eruption.  Watching the eruption, I was hoping it kept to the east and north!  I was told later that Pyroclastic Flows went 7 km to sea at the Bramble airport area. Some Pyroclastic Flow activity went down to Cork Hill, lots and lots down Farrell’s plain, some descended upon Gages. It was truly a heart pounding event; I am not sure what was louder, my heart or the booming of the volcano! As usual, many people rushed north after the alarms announced “Evacuate” (even in Woodlands). Oslyn in the Tradewinds office got busy on phone calling all and sundry to relax and just stay inside until it was all over. The rest of us – brave or crazy souls – rush towards good viewing points in Old Towne! It’s sort of like a hurricane party! Lots of cameras and chat – by the way, we are all scientists! We diagnose and critique the various angles and directions as if we all had post graduate degrees in volcanology!

The information released later on radio Montserrat (ZJB) stated that it was thought to be a partial dome collapse, with ash to 50,000 feet, perhaps as much as 50 million cubic meters of dome blasted off, that is only 20% of the dome as it was. Later, it appeared there was a big “bite” out of the top of the dome but hard to get photographs because of the steaming and venting. We have to count our blessings, we could have gotten several feet of ash if winds had been as yesterday and before when we have been getting ash like clockwork 3 times per day; if this was a large enough dome collapse, perhaps the worst is over for the time being, maybe we will get a long respite from activity, maybe – this is it and she will take a long nap. Who knows, just like the scientists – we don’t have a clue! To their credit, they did close Zone B Wed because of elevated activity. They can sometimes see changes in activity on the monitoring systems, but can’t interpret. That is the problem with volcanology, it is not predictable.

Written by Susan Edgecombe

Edited by Brenda L. McCartney

Another Euruption

Photographed by MVO

Today at ten minutes to three, there was a volcanic explosion and subsequent pyroclastic flows down all the sides of volcano. I rushed from the office to my home which is at the exclusion gate on Bishop’s View Road (not the other way like most other motorists I passed). The emergency response sirens and speakers went off, but unfortunately even in Woodlands the digital voice said evacuate meaning (but not specifying) only Zone B daytime entry people. Frightened people from all over jumped in the cars and followed the evacuation prompt and went north. Hopefully this glitch in the system will be rectified.

The weekly Montserrat Volcano Observatory report that had just been released yesterday (before this event) had spoken to the distinct decrease in volcanic activity over the previous week, and the hope that the 60 day cycle of activity may be ending. We had been ash free for 3 days, it was the first time in ages my pool was blue and decks and patios fairly ash-free. We were very lucky with this eruption that most ash went elsewhere “ we had some, but in fact not nearly as much as previous ash in the past weeks. In Old Towne and Olveston we had complete grey-outs, the ash was fairly light. We had light ash that would not require a shovel! Hose & broom again!

Still hoping for rain and hear we may get some relief on Monday! It is strangely dry for this time of year, and what a time for us all to be without regular showers. The lawns are mostly gray; plants are suffering with ash and no precipitation. But the main thing is, of course, our smoking friend “ or rather fiend “ in the distance. I  hope yesterday’s events put her back in some sort of repose for at least a while!

Written by  Susan MacLeod Edgecombe

edited by Brenda L. McCartney.

The Solace of Dawn

Flamboyant Tree

Waking up in the morning just before the sun comes up is so peaceful that it has a magnetic effect on me and one can only stop and be thankful. Behind my home is lush greenery secluded by thick mature trees; sprawling Poinciana (flamboyant trees), fan palm fronds with towering almond and coconut trees. They usually beckon me to sit for awhile. This setting always draws me back to my childhood days at Olveston House in Montserrat before the Volcano a place that the Beatles, Elton John, George Michael, Black Sabbath, Erica Clapton, George Michael and many others resided as they recorded certain albums.

Today, in my backyard I stop to notice a Poinciana (flamboyant) tree with its yellow orange streaked with red leaves kissing the garbage bin. For me it is a piece of art that expresses and captures a part of my soul. I was intrigued about the beauty of nature. I hope today something captures your attention and whispers something so fundamentally beautiful.

A Displaced People

18 July 1995 – Chances Peak volcano erupts for the first time in 350 years. Thousands were forced to evacuate. Many took temporary residence in “safe areas” in the north; others flee to neighboring Caribbean islands, USA and Britain.

Today many Montserratians recall this day with precision when change came to Montserrat.  As we reflect on that day let us remember how far we have come and the place that has shaped us. As the slogan says still home still nice it is etched in our hearts forever.

Free Bread … No Money Down

Photographed by Rosamund Cabey

As the volcano has taken our physical homes  the images beckon.

Yesterday I was looking at some pictures and came across this image. It is an area in what we call the danger zone called Cork Hill on the Western side of the island. The volcano erupted very close to this area, so close in fact that they would feel the heat of it if it were still inhabited. Everyone has been relocated to the direct North now. When I saw the image it seemed as if for a minute that time had stood still. It felt as if no lapse of time had intervened between when this area was inhabited and when the photograph had been taken. Looking at all what has happened in Montserrat I can say that in the face of adversity this oven still stands proudly on someone’s property, displaying pieces of the past.

The picture of the rock oven brings to mind memories of the past. Every Friday my grandmother would bake bread. Back in the day, I would make a pilgrimage to the side of the house to collect some wood. My Uncles brought the wood in bundles throughout the week. My grandmother would put it in the rock oven so that it could be heated. We also picked balsam in the pastures that lay below out house. We tied the balsam to a long stick which was used as a broom to sweep the coals. The coals were formed as a result of the burnt wood. After the oven was swept, it was left for awhile to reduce the heat. Then about one hundred to two hundred loaves of cylindrical dough were placed on banana leaves and placed in the oven to bake for approximately one hour. I did not like the chores because my free spirit wanted to be down by the river below the house to catch crayfish or watching the water flow down the river banks.

When the bread was taken out the aroma of the bread seemed so rich and powerful. It seems as if no other smell can compare to nor would any smell overcome it. All I wanted to do was to add some salt butter (a little red butter) and get a cup of lemonade we call swank. The bread that we toiled so hard for was given away easily to any stranger that would grace my grandmother presence; they were the first recipients of our hard labour. I can now say (since University/Business School) that these pieces of bread were loss leaders and were used to cultivate powerful relationships. Ninety percent of the time a total stranger would always mange to show up Fridays when the bread was ready.

As I grow older I realize that the root and foundation of my grandmother’s life was relationships. Her relationships had struggles, crooked parts and bends that stretched a mile but at the core the bonds that she formed were deep and strong. Like the bread she baked to feed the community, the relationships also nourished the inner self; which gave vitality and vibrancy to my life and to those whom she encountered.

The wealth of our lives is measured by the relationships we foster. For me bread typifies the community spirit because of its sustenance it provides a living, nurture, food, fulfillment and life.

Home is Where the heart is …

Montserrat is the only capital in the world that actually does not exist (anymore). A city with a story that began in July 1995 when series of massive eruptions of nearby Soufrire Hills volcano endangered most of the southern half of the island with pyroclastic flows and ashes, including Plymouth. Although people were only evacuated in December of that same year and sent back to Plymouth a few months later, the end of Plymouth really began on the 25th of June 1997 when a huge eruption produced pyroclastic flows that killed 19 people. People were evacuated again and another series of eruptions destroyed approximately 80% of the city at the beginning of August that same year. Plymouth was buried under almost 1,5 meters of ash. Since then, the town has been abandoned as living here is virtually impossible and together with much of the island it was claimed a exclusion zone. Up until now, people still are not allowed to go here, except a small peace between the safe and the exclusion zone, where people are allowed only during the day. Since then, many people have been living elsewhere on the island, but even more are living outside Montserrat. Although the government of Plymouth was relocated to Brades in the north, Plymouth still is the de jure capital because even over 10 years after the disaster, no new capital has been formally created or named.

From Travellers Point