Stars Aplenty

 

Moon over Mauna Loa

I picked up my friend at 5:15 and we headed back up on the Saddle Road through the rain and clouds to the Mauna Kea Astronomical Observatories. The telescopes are operated by 12 separate nonprofits from all over the world working in concert with each other – at least until recently.

Courtesy of Mauna Kea Observatory

 Plans to build a huge 30-Meter Telescope (TMT - so glad it wasn't a 30 INCH telescope) have met with opposition from Native Hawaiians and other groups, causing a scramble on both sides of the fence. Possibilities could include decommissioning older telescopes, efforts to restore the natural landscape and reducing the level of activity on the summit. Mauna Kea is the world’s premier site for astronomical observation due to its high altitude, calm air, excellent visibility and dark skies.

Courtesy of Mauna Kea Observatory

If you have four-wheel drive, you’re allowed to drive almost to the summit where the observatories are, more than 13,000 feet. Lesser folks (the rangers wouldn’t take my word that a Chevy Spark actually WAS a 4-wheel drive) can park near the Visitor Information Station at over 9,000 feet. Yes, you definitely feel it, trudging up to the only thing open, the gift shop, next to the restrooms. There are plans to create more of a learning environment in the future, and to bring back the casual astronomers and their telescopes, something I remember from the past. The entire facility was shut down until July 2021 due to Covid.

It was windy and cold; though we were hoping to catch sunset there, we were surrounded by clouds. It appeared to be clearing, and I suggested hiking to the top of a nearby cinder cone. We weren’t sure we could make it, given the low level of oxygen, but my friend started up, and I tried to take the car up a nearby (very rutted) dirt road. We managed to lose each other – one was up while the other one was down. I walked to the top of the hill (over 10,000 feet at that point, from sea level a few hours before) until I began to see the nerves pulsing in my eyes about 20 feet from the top. Maybe stopping would be a good idea. The clouds were streaming by, coloring the world and path darker shades of gray. I made it down (the last person on the trail), and found my friend warming her backside against the car hood, both of us relieved we had found each other. She brought a picnic lunch with hot tea (yes!), which we devoured in the car. Then we turned out the car lights and went outside. This was the reason I was here, even though I missed my sunset.

There were galaxies spinning, the milky way smeared across the constellations that had never seemed so close, so bright. The sky canopy had completely cleared into a background of inky velvet. 

Courtesy Sam Kolder

You couldn’t help but keep turning to appreciate yet another vista of sparkling light surrounding the steady beam of Jupiter and Venus. In the dictionary, under “Awe”, Mauna Kea at night should be added. My friend remarked that this place is packed for the meteor showers, and it’s no wonder – or rather a wonder a minute. She saw two while we were standing there. Finally, the cold got to us, and we drove back to quiet, humid Hilo through the light rain.

When I dropped her off, the coquis were in full chorus. These little frogs sound exactly like birds, with a call like “bob white”, the second note bending up like a whistle. I’d never heard these anywhere else, and am grateful they find their true loves by midnight every night, because they are many and LOUD.