Descent intoThrihnukagigur Volcano

There are regular tours and vacations for regular people, and they are very.. um... nice.  They really are.  In fact we're taking a cruise in December.  They're easy, and safe and can be very entertaining, not to mention relaxing.  "Ahhh, I think I'll read on the beach or maybe take a nap."  

The descent into Thrihnukagigur isn't one of them.  

I guess Winnie and I aren't what you might call full-time "regular", because... Oh, heck, I don't know...  We just tend to gravitate toward trips that are a bit more  intrepid, exotic and unusual. Beautiful scenery and great fellow adventurer/travelers are real plusses, too.

The descent into Thrihnukagigur definitely IS one of these "irregular" adventures. The query "Are you going into the volcano?" is burning up travel agent land lines as we speak.  When told of our plans, our friends here in America generally responded with the question "Are you both *#%*ing crazy?" 

This professionally produced trailer provides a good introduction to this new trip:

https://www.youtube.com/embed/l55CuqTBJVY?autoplay=1&hd=1&KeepThis=true&TB_iframe=true&height=370&width=640?autoplay=1&hd=1

Images from our stroll

I was a little concerned about whether my beat-up health profile was "up to" the trek.  I'm somewhat older, and definitely high-mileage.  What few brochures we could find clearly stated that "Those who opt to take the tour need to be 'relatively fit', as it involves a three kilometer fast-paced trek across a ragged lava field trail to the Base Camp at lip of the crater (and a return hike on re-emergence from the chamber)". 

The trail to Thrihnukagigur

Iceland’s propensity for sudden explosions and subterranean earthquake swarms can be explained by its position on the planet. Although the country appears to be an island, it is actually the highest point of the Mid-Atlantic Ridge, a long chain of underwater mountains.

Iceland also sits at a point where the North American and Eurasian continental plates meet. The two plates are slowly drifting apart, leading to tearing in the Earth’s crust.  This 'cracking' leads to the expulsion of magma and other ejecta through our little blue planet's crust. 

Also, the locals say that the island usually has a major eruption about once every three years.  It had been four years since the Eyjafjallajokull volcano erupted with great force in March 2010, spewing out a vast cloud of ash and other ejecta that caused huge problems for the airline industry across Northern Europe.  Iceland was a year overdue.  Was this an opportune time to be going down into an "extinct" 4000 year old volcano?  Well, the travel folks assured us that this expedition was absolutely safe.  Would they fib to us?  Nyahh... We're IN!   Let's go!

I was by FAR the most... um... 'senior' person on the trek. 

The official Silverback on the trek

The good news:  What I lack in health, I make up for in stubborn. Also, there were several stops along the way (pant, pant, huff, puff) for some great mine-lectures on volcanic geology (our guide made it fun and interesting at the same time).  

Oh... And elves.  Yes, elves.  Icelanders believe in Elves.  We learned what they might look like, where they live, and the proper courtesy to extend to strangers you meet who might, in fact, really be an elf!
Nota bene:  I am now a believer.  Be nice to everyone.  You never know if that person you met might really be a elf!

What an elf might look like 

The eruption that formed Thrihnukagigur 4000 years ago was unique in that the magma didn't solidify at the surface sealing the hole forever.  It only gelled on the walls of the throat.  In this case, Haraldur Sigurdsson, a local volcanologist, stated that ‘It is like somebody came and pulled the plug, and all the magma ran down out of it.’  

Can you imagine rock so hot that it's liquified, under intense pressure, and oozing through kilometer after kilometer of holes, cracks and fissures, and tunnels?

"Geared-up" and ready for the descent!

We have finally arrived at the pinnacle of the cinder cone that we'll be exploring.  Our guide is explaining the harnessing procedure for our descent.  After harnessing up, we'll walk out to the end of this "bridge to nowhere" to catch our ride on the window washing platform that National Geographic commissioned the Germans to build/install a few years ago.

And if Germans built it... I'll ride on it!

We're going down there? 

Yes.  Waaay past where the cables go out of sight.  I'm pondering the fact that there have been more humans in space than have ever been to the bottom of this pit into Hades.  Uber cool!  See the rollers on the side of our German window-washer platform?  They're there to help squeeze our little platform through a rather tight bottleneck many meters from the surface.  I would NOT want to get stuck on this "elevator" dangling a couple hundred feet above the boulders strewn about the floor somewhere below us!

Images from our descent

Starting down.  We're excited!

About half-way down and descending, I leaned out sideways over the end of our window-washing platform... First part of the clip is looking back up (again, sideways, remember?)...

thence panning downward toward our goal.  

Water continually seeps from tiny cracks in the rock.  The deeper into the abyss we glided, the larger the drops of water got.  For some reason, it struck our whole group (five of us) as funny.  It's hilarious to see a giant drop of water smack down dead center on the top of someone's helmet.  What a fun group of folks.

One last peek over the edge of the platform before it's time to tuck in and squeeze through the narrows.  Adding to our excitement and anticipation, we're beginning to be able to see through the water droplets all the way down to some of the larger boulders strewn about the floor.

And...

we're starting to see some colour burned into the cinder-black lava rock!  Yes, I remember now, someone mentioned colours or something like that.  See it?  There's some purple and magenta burned into the rock.

Almost there..

Another descent successfully completed, after climbing off the landing platform, shooters prep their cameras for Subterranean Shooting.  With growing anxiety and tension, I fumble with my Canon... looking on it's top... sides... front... Sh*t!  The 'PRNDL' has M, Av, Tv, P... but no damned "S" for subterranean."  Alas, woe is me.  I'd never SS'd before!  So now you know.  These images are all experimental.  My very first lesson in underground shooting.  Ha!  I LAUGH in the face of Inexperience!  Undaunted, I press ahead...

Here, we catch our breath as our guide explains how the extreme temperatures and pressures of the ejected magma coloured different materials (types of rock and soil) differently.  Copper (Cu) burns green, etc.  Geeze this guy was not only quite knowledgeable, but it occurred to me that he seemed genuinely nice on the inside, too.  Okay ladies, he's smart, good looking, and works hard.  Maybe ya oughta consider an Icelandic journey in your future plans.  Just saying...  

But enough of that, let's go look for some of those "alleged colours" they were talking about topside.  

Winnie and Jon try to mentally and photographically capture the colours and dimension of this chamber.  Tough... 

I advance to their previous position, look up, and discover the slash of colour that they were looking at, moments before...

In this image, I shoot the wall from where they were standing in the previous pic.  I'm still (to this day) trying to get my head around 'the intensity of the pastels'.  I know, I know, "intense" and "pastels" should never be used in the same sentence.  I guess you had to be there...

The "blaze" up the side of the wall

 This pic reminds me of a thermogram that might measure the intensity of the heat's effect on the stone..  this streak could have been caused by a difference in heat...or a difference in the make-up of the rock.  I'm betting on "Heat".  Just a hunch...  Your thoughts?

Winnie on the trail

            ...and in other news:  There       ARE.    NO.    TRAILS.         

One may either politely stand on the landing/take-off platform until the next departure, or step down the (witness: the grand opening of) two wooden steps off the platform.  Construction of which was courtesy of previous traveler's (last year) lucre.  After that, folks, you are             

                                                            ON.     YOUR.     OWN.      

There are no trails.  You will be climbing across boulders the size of limos (and larger), or that damned aggravating scree dislodged from previous earthquakes.    

Tim blazes a "trail".  If you can climb over it, then by popular definition... "it's a trail". 

Centerfold:  Geologist's Monthly magazine
and if that's not absolutely true, it Should be.
(but I love the colours)

And finally, yours truly next to the "drop zone" shooting into the blackness, looking for our ride back to the top.


It was with a deep sense of awe at how tiny and fragile we are that we began our ascent to daylight.  But there was more to see on the way up...

The brief clip, taken during our ascent to the surface above, exhibits one last bit of evidence of the unimaginably intense heat during the eruption.  Can you imagine solid rock being so hot that it oozes and drips down the sides of the chute right after the plug was pulled downstream, emptying it?

Back topside, cheers for a wonderful, successful adventure in Iceland!  Yay! 

And someone, whom shall remain un-named, left his mark on this magnificent, beautiful island.

Adieu, Iceland.  Until we meet again.

Shooting the Bird(s) and Fresh Seafood, Iceland Style!

Today, we're gonna get rowdy and SHOOT THE BIRDS.  A lot of birds.  Then for a nice on-board fresh seafood buffet like you've never been to before.   Did I say "fresh"?  Oh, baby!

Our ride for the day:

The Saerun - Das Boot

I was so busy exploring and shooting some pics that I didn't even notice the plywood covering one of the windows!  And now that I look a bit closer, she's got a few minor dents in her hull, too.  Had I noticed this before cast-off, I might have had a few second thoughts.  Nyahh.  They've probably got some life jackets.  I hope.

Bird hunting along the rocky cliffs...

This cliff face was just full of nesting shags.

As long as I was in Iceland, I wanted to shoot some birds.  The pic above is what all those folks with camera-phones and inexpensive point-n-shoots will probably get to look at upon their return home.  Interesting?  Yep.  Pretty?  Yep, again.  But I wanted to be able to see them a bit more up close and personal.  So...

...I packed my camera gear and lugged it most of the way across the world.  I was really glad that I made the effort, because I got to see those beautiful avians mostly "up close and personal"...  Hope you enjoy these bird shots as much as I do.

First, the Shags:

The European shag, or common shag (Phalacrocorax aristotelis) is a species of cormorant.  It is distinguished from the great cormorant by its smaller size, lighter build, thinner yellowish bill, and in breeding adults by the crest and metallic blue and green-tinged sheen on the feathers.

The European shag is one of the deepest divers among the cormorant family.  Shags have been shown to dive to around 45 meters (148 ft).  When they dive, they jump out of the water first to give extra oomph to the dive.  European shags are preponderantly benthic feeders**, i.e. they find their prey on the sea bottom. They will eat a wide range of fish but their commonest prey is the sand eel.

** Like politicians.

The Good News - It breeds on coasts, nesting on rocky ledges or in crevices or small caves. 

The Bad News - Their nests are terrible looking (and smelling) heaps of rotting seaweed or twigs cemented together by the bird's own guano.  

This next bird has guano (aka: poop, birdshit, etc) all over it's back from those damned upstairs neighbors who just don't seem to care.    

Attention paparazzi aboard the Saerun:  No pics of my chick please, I'm trying to get it down for a nap!  

This chick was born naked.  No feathers, no down, nada.  It's taken (probably) about two or three months for it to get this fuzzy and fluffy, and is almost ready for fledging.

Next, The Kittiwakes:

Black Legged Kittiwake

This is a pretty little bird although, like the shags, it's not overly mindful about sanitation around the house... And like the shags, these birds build their nests on rocky cliffs over the water out of... yep.  S.O.S.  Seaweed, twigs and grass, and... bird cr@p.  Same Old Shit, Different Bird.

Time for a Kittiwake Siesta 
Well, of course it Could be the odor...

Apartment living, Icelandic Kittiwake Style

Everyone wants to take a little afternoon nap... but there's always one old bird from the top floor that wants to gossip.  I wonder... what did those birds use to paint the arrow pointing out the loudmouth?  My guess:  home-made "building mortar "?

Third, the fulmar:

 Northern fulmar (Fulmarus glacialis)

Although the fulmar reminds me of a gull with granny glasses, it's really more like the petrels we watched in Antarctica.  And to a certain extent... to the salt-water iguanas we got to see in the Galapagos Islands on another adventure.   These birds spend a substantial amount of time at sea slurping up plankton, tiny crustaceans, and tiny fish near the surface.  One can imagine the volume of salt water that they ingest!  They retain much of the H2O systemically, and use their "de-salinization" glands in their beaks to spit the concentrated salt (and some water) out these tubes on top of their beaks.

I believe that these birds generally mate for life.  And since the perfectly shat-upon cliff dwelling is so hard to find and get fixed-up just right, many times a pair will split up... one stays home and guards that perfect "Home-Crappy-Home", while the other goes out to sea for a grocery trip.  Then they switch roles.  Cool, huh?  I should look this stuff up, though.  Next time.  For sure.

Fourth, The Puffins:

And now to "shoot" some of those cute little Puffins (with my Canon, of course).  I love these cute little birds.  With that highly specialized and colourful beak, they're sometimes called Sea Parrots.

55 mph, flat-out, just above the surface in 'ground effect'.

The range of the Puffin includes the whole North Atlantic, including Iceland which has one of the world's largest colonies.  They lead a  rather solitary life during the fall and all winter, living alone on the surface of the North Atlantic just bobbing around, swimming, feasting, and sleeping.  They're excellent swimmers, and use their stubby little wings (a "compromise sized wing" for swimming or flying) to dive down up to 60 meters in search of herring or sand eels (Mmmm sand eels, their fave).  Once airbourne, if flying, the little speedsters are fast, 55mph, but not terribly maneuverable.  While at sea, they usually "land" by crashing head-long into a wave crest.  While on land, they usually attempt a belly flop, but end up... well, End-Over-End.

Thinking back, if I'd had to crash land somewhere after Every take-off... I probably wouldn't have become a pilot.

Little is known about their habits while wintering at sea.  I mean, how would you even FIND one of their tiny black backs on that huge expanse of deep, dark ocean to study it?

Puffins land on North Atlantic seacoasts and islands to form breeding colonies each spring and summer, where they live in burrows.  Suites, actually.  Many have two chambers, one for pooping, and another lined with grass and feathers for nesting and breeding, incubating their single egg, and hopefully, raising their single chick.

Both parents take turns incubating it. When a chick hatches, its parents take turns feeding it by carrying small fish (and Sand eels - Yum!) back to the nest in their relatively spacious bills.  Once they capture a small herring or eel, they hold it against their upper beak with their tongue, thus freeing the lower hinged part of the beak to go right ahead collecting further foodstuffs for their little "puffling".  No, really.  That's what the chicks are called.  Pufflings.

Puffin couples often reunite at the same burrow site each year. It is unclear how these birds navigate back to their home grounds. They may use visual reference points, smells, sounds, the Earth's magnetic fields—or perhaps even the stars.

http://video.nationalgeographic.com/video/puffin_atlantic_iceland

Bath time!

Ahh, I always feel so much better after a cold bath!

And now, for something to eat:

After an exhausting day of bird shooting, Icelandic Style, it's time to re-stoke the fires behind my belt buckle.  I'm Hungry for some fresh seafood!

Oh, look.  The waiter has just placed our order.

A brief wait while our order was "processed", and voilà...
Dinner's almost ready!

Dump it onto the table boys and girls, the "crew" is becoming restless...

Bounty de la Mer

Who wants to be first?

Surely that cute little 16 y/o girl isn't gonna gut this thing!  Eeewww! 

Then one-half of a second and two flicks of a sharp blade, and

This is the result.  Fresh.  Seafood.  With a teeny bit of sal from la Mer....

I'm just reaching for it... reach..

Who owns that red glove!?

Winnie ! ! !  

Okay, just for that... I'm going to "arrange" to have you lowered down the throat of a volcano!  This time, Indiana Jones won't be there to stop me!   Bwaahahahahaha!

No shit, folks.  Tomorrow, we're going down into an (I hope) extinct volcano.

Stay tuned...

and good night for now.

http://video.nationalgeographic.com/video/puffin_atlantic_iceland

Would you like some ice with that? A visit to Skaftafellsjökull Glacier

Iceland really does have an ice cap atop the island.  It's called Vatnajokull.  The average thickness of the ice is 400 m (1,300 ft), with a maximum thickness of 1,000 m (3,300 ft). Beneath this huge ice field is a whole array of volcanos and fissures, many of which are still quite active.  This ice field is surrounded by glaciers that have been oozing downhill, as it were, for hundreds of years now.  They are mostly receding now, due to the effects of climate change, and have left many kilometers of gravel and rock behind in its path to the sea.

Skaftafellsjökull glacier

One of the "easiest" ones to visit is Skaftafellsjökull glacier, "just steps away" from the parking lot... I hasten to add that Miami is also "just steps away" from Seattle, too... in reality though, the glacier is only about a thirty minute fast"stroll" through low scrubby terrain.  Less than two miles.

After five minutes, it doesn't seem to be getting any closer.

After ten minutes, we left George and Pat behind.

After fifteen minutes, the trail changed from flat gravel to a rockier path.  It was at this point where some skinny little 98+ year old Asian lady charged up the trail towards me like I was standing still. Damn her, nobody likes a showoff! As you can surely imagine, especially with my being young, masculine, and virile like Rambo (and totally exhausted from previous hikes on previous days... and they were uphill, into the wind, both ways!*), I might have allegedly been a little embarrassed that she was overtaking me so rapidly.  So... I did the only reasonable thing:  I shaded my eyes from the sun and scanned back toward the parking lot... pretending to be looking and waiting for someone... all the while trying not to breath too heavily!

After twenty minutes of huffing, puffing, and trekking, I discovered a really nice, brand-new, baby carriage abandoned along the path, all alone next to the rocks, it's little wheels looking pitifully inadequate for the task at hand.. (Do they make motorized ATV prams with tundra tyres?)

After about twenty-five minutes I was beginning to wonder what the... then there it was.  Cool, frosty, huge, dirty, sooty, treacherous, were the words that came to mind.  I love glaciers.

Although it's a little difficult, if you squint (a lot) and peer along the base of the glacier, you can see two people walking along the face... no, no, not those, the Other two!  I think I can see the tumultuous tourist crowds of... um... four adult people down there.  I didn't see any toddlers, though.

The case of the abandoned rubber-bumpered baby buggy, and where the toddler might have toddled off to... remains "open".

Okay, okay, If you don't want to squint, let me zoom in with the ol' Z-Key...  See 'em now?  Is there a kid with them???

I wonder... did they see the sign that suggested it was probably not a good idea to climb across the glacier?  Why, you ask?  Glaciers have crevasses, or cracks in the ice, that may only go down ten meters or so, or forty meters, or...

Oh.  And they have moulins, too.  Moulins are the holes or wells that drain meltwater from the top of the glacier to the base gravel.  I think that one should always avoid stepping into these, at least during the early part of your day, in order to continue enjoying your afternoon.  And your life.  If the fall doesn't do you immediately lethal harm, you should be probably be aware that your badly broken body will more that likely be laying in water that's 2 degrees Celsius.  The good news!?  Your consciousness and your pain's not going to last very long.

Oh, did I mention quicksand?  No, really.  Quicksand forms when large blocks of ice break away from the glacier and melt on mud or sand.  It is not always visible, so the caution remains:  always walk on coarser gravel.  Sounded legit to me, so I stayed on the ruff stuff.

Looks like what they call "bergy bits" off the Antarctic coast.  Might not sink your boat, but it'd be sure to rattle your teeth.

The clear blue ice is eons old, pure, except for a few germs that may have survived a few thousand years, and very, very cold.  I purloined (yes, blatantly stole) some this out of a bay in Antarctica a couple of years ago.  Loaded it into the floor of the zodiac and hauled it back to the ship to share with everyone, and that ice lasted for hours laying in a big sink.  That stuff's so COLD... "How cold is it?"  ...it's SO COLD that a chunk will still be in your glass on your third scotch.  Maybe even more.
Your mileage may vary.

You know, I think that it's almost time for me to check my own mileage.  I believe I'll head back to the hotel to get a double scotch, get naked, get horizontal, and get some shut-eye.  In that precise order.

We got ice for our drinks today, but tomorrow, we're gonna get rowdy and SHOOT THE BIRDS.  A lot of birds.  Then for a nice on-board fresh seafood buffet like you've never been to before.   Did I say "fresh"?  Oh, baby!

Until then...


*  (...and the patch with the bull in it)