"What is your last place?" I was asked to enter antiguan customs.
Montserrat. I answered.
When searching for my amounts, the customs agent commented: “Do you know that you are mistaken?”
Then he added with a grin: “Why do you want to go there?”
When I handed him my passport, I replied: "Watch the volcano break out."
While I was printing documents, he looked into his head and directed me to the boat.
The small volcanic island of Montserrat is part of the Levind Islands network in the West Indies, a geologically young archipelago that began to form less than 50 million years ago. The island’s volcano remained inactive for about four hundred years, but this all changed in July 1995. The emerald dragon woke up in a very naughty mood.
In the eruptions involved tremors of intestinal earthquakes. The ferry took off from the mountain from the rapid heating of groundwater by growing magma. By mid-November of the same year, magma reached the surface, and a new lava dome began to form. Lava of Caribbean volcanoes is known as andesite and is very viscous, thick, like honey. It accumulates around the volcano, forming a dome, which continues to recover and collapse. When the dome collapses, it creates a pyroclastic flow, which is an avalanche of millions of tons of fragmented lava and hot gases that chase down the side of a mountain, destroying everything in its path. Achieving causes over 100 mph and temperatures over 600 degrees Celsius, nothing within its reach has been preserved.
As a result of the violent outbreaks of the island, two-thirds of this area of forty square miles became unsuitable. Called the exclusion zone, entering it without the express permission of the government, and the escort is illegal. Large-scale evacuation activities displaced more than 8,000 out of 11,000 inhabitants. Most people were looking for a better life on the neighboring island or in England, which is the “mother country” of Montserrat. When I learned that Montserrat is considered one of the most dangerous volcanoes in the world, I flew to the island to see how its wildlife and ecosystem respond to this destructive environment.
As a result of volcanic activity, the airport of Montserrat was demolished, so I went on an island ferry from Antigua. Having risen to the boat at 150 feet, I realized that there were still nine people on the deck. All were from Montserrat, returning after a day of shopping in Antigua. These are some of the few tenants who have forced the anger and refusal of the volcano to leave their homes.
The boat was a powerful catamaran, unlike any ferry that I saw. It transports people to and from the island twice a day and is at the counter in the event of an evacuation, that is, if the sea allows it; some days when the sea swells, too treacherous, the boat cannot safely dock in the small bay of Montserrat. To maintain the fine tuning of the boat, the captain ran her at full speed.
When I left Antigua, I understand that if it were the United States, we would have at least 15 minutes of “safety instructions.” Here I appreciated the “use my head” approach; If you didn't use your head, you would float. The sea was so rough, even some of the experienced passengers clung to dear life. The splashing of the water and the grinding of the boat, delving into the waves, were unusually peaceful. Tired of traveling more than 2,000 miles before noon, I felt that I was in a state of sleep. The bright sun made everything overly sharp and bright. The crystal blue water, the pierced and sweet smell of the Caribbean air, relaxed me, like the laughing gas of a dentist.
In this part of the world, fish can fly. In small squadrons, they flew over the waves, as if pierced diamonds over the sea. Then their wings dug into the wave, plunging them into the abyss, like mini-kamikaze. I have depicted a little sun. bandages around each of their tiny heads. Far off the horizon, a weak silhouette of Montserrat popped up. The reflection of the water made the island seem to soar in the air, as its volcano hung in the sky, shrouded in clouds. When the boat approached the northern tip of the island, which was considered a “safe zone”, lush aloe trees and palm trees glimpsed what an island island was before the eruptions.
Like the islands of the Jurassic Park and King Kong, Montserrat creates a threatening aura as rocky cliffs emerging from the Caribbean. Its dense vegetation in the jungle hides a force, unacceptable to most people, much more power than Hollywood could ever have dreamed of. When the boat turned into the dock, about a dozen people lined up along the coast, waiting for him to go back to the island in Antigua. Although I was firm through customs, I could not help but notice that everyone seemed indifferent and happy. A small bar next to the usual pavilion was named The Last Resort. It was full of customers who drank their beer, and also slightly reddened each other as a sign of respect.
The last resort is owned and operated by a man named Moose. The Muse staff consists of his beautiful wife and two very good and hardworking children. The spear knight is still wet when they deliver the trick of the day. In most evenings, I watched the sunset from Musa and enjoyed wonderful homemade food. While eating, the gang of the biggest, thickest and most awesome black and yellow spiders walked the same way as the tight rope walkers on my head. They always seemed like they were going to fall on me, but they never did. I actually got used to the fact that they were there, and eventually developed the habit of holding them. They were quite obedient, their long legs covered my entire arm, but they never bit. Elk welcomes spiders just as
his clients.
Passing through customs, I met my contact from the emergency department of Montserrat, and he took me to my guest house. The roads of the island are carved from the sides of the mountains, and all the cars chirp their tires when they make their way through steep, thin hills. My rented guesthouse was sitting next to the governor’s house, overlooking the Caribbean Sea, on the edge of the rift zone. Upon returning to the island, I remained in the same house. In addition to being a luxury home, it is logically perfect. This beautiful place is completely surrounded by the jungle, with the exception of the crystal blue of the Caribbean Sea. It is so close to the exclusion zone that watching the eruptions from the back deck gave me a stiff neck. This is like sitting in the front row of an IMAX movie (which can burn you to death).
As soon as I settled all my equipment in the house, I decided to go to the small town of Salem. This city lies in the shadow of a volcano and for some time was considered part of the exclusion zone, but has recently been reopened. It was a 3-mile walk through the city, and it was dark, not the street light, and that night even the moon. I quickly learned from experience that in many parts of the world it is unwise to go out after dark. The exception is Montserrat; he has little or no crime. When the island began evacuating, there were only eight prisoners in the prison. A police commissioner once told me about a small group of bank robbers that he imprisoned. When most people think of bank bankruptcy, we imagine how people in Nixon disguise wildly pointing guns and swear. Not on Montserrat.
That's how they robbed a bank. When the pyroclastic flow swept the capital of Plymouth, some of their banks were also covered. A small group of men learned that during the harsh evacuation of the city, one of the banks left a million dollars in unallocated cash. So one night they went to Plymouth, dug a tunnel through solid ashes, broke into the shore and stopped mining. I guess they might have gone with the case, except for the fact that they tried to exchange all the money at once in the casino in Antigua. Being undisputed bills, robbers were quickly caught, so even most of the crimes in Montserrat are peaceful.
The poor or millionaires, all leave their homes, the doors of their cars open, and no one else does anything. This was also the rule before their tragedy. I found that most of the inhabitants of Montserrat are very proud people, and they have very little envy. When I went to Salem, all I heard were the digital sounds of tree frogs in a deafening volume. About half a mile from the city I saw a strong headlight of a motorcycle coming towards me at high speed. I was a little more nervous than I used to be, because there are no driving and driving laws in Montserrat and no speed limits.
A dark, massive creature emerged from the weeds about 50 feet in front of me, it charged the bike and BLAM !. Then the bike hit the road. When the bike hit the sidewalk, the gas cylinder flew to the left, the seat flew to the right, and the driver’s body was sent down the middle of the road. As quickly as a dark being appeared, it disappeared. I ran to help a man when residents left their homes to see what was going on. I was completely puzzled by the event, which I asked: “What happened? .. One Rastafarian man next to me said. Ya mon, bulls, they are not like the sound of a bike, so dawn.
The bulls were released after the eruptions began, as most farmers moved from the island. Bulls hate the loud noise of motorcycles and often go to their heads. The bull always leaves, and the rider flies away. After we washed the damaged biker, he went to the local doctor to see him. Later, I learned that he survived, suffering only from a broken collarbone and a broken wrist. I started talking to some of the residents at the scene, and they invited me to the local pub Jimmo.s to play a few dominoes. Dominoes is a very intense game for them, almost a contact sport. The more confident they are in movement, the more they slap the dominoes on the table. When I play against them, I can always guess who the great winner of the day was, because the wobbly table leaned in his direction from the blow so much.
During the games, men told stories about the growth on the island, as it was in the past, and their hopes for the future. They talked about when their ancestors were alive, and the volcano was as active as today. One could see the fiery glow of magma emitted from the cone of a volcano. They told the children that Jack O & # 39; Founter lives, and if you are bad, he will run and carry you away. Like many societies, children are forced because of the fear of higher authority or “bogism”. Sometimes in history there may be more. A few years ago, around Halloween, the four parts of the dome of the volcano collapsed, creating what looked like two eyes, a nose and a mouth that glowed over the island, like a carved pumpkin.
I talked to a man who, before heavy eruptions, decided to climb into the volcano. He said that when he reached the cone, it was like entering a separate reality. Red, blue and orange fireballs will float in the air, and then shoot into the cave just to hover again and throw back like evil ghosts. These were hot gases in a cone. The next morning, at 6:30 am, I was awakened by what I thought was thunder. Still half asleep, I guessed it was a heavy storm. Then Richard, the owner of the house, shouted: "Wake up!" We have an eruption! ”
When there were continuous loud explosions, I took a second and climbed into the camera. After I ran to the back porch, I stared at a cloud of ash 20,000 feet hanging over my head. When a hot ash pan and gas shot into the sky, he slowly blocked the sun. For the next half hour, I photographed the train and watched the wind blow to the west, where it splashed into the sea in front of the house. Good morning! When the volcano settled, I went with the head of the emergency department to find out which way the pyroclastic flow went. We found that the stream burned to the Tar River directly into the sea, barely passing an already devastated airport. The Tar River is one of the two most common paths of pyroclastic flow.
We wandered near the airport and saw smoke rising from the barren land where the stream passed. The airport is built on an ancient Caribbean Indian burial. Many locals believe that eruptions are gods. punishment for violating such sacred grounds. On that day, the government of Montserrat invited me to the exclusion zone. It was the last decision of the police commissioner due to heavy volcanic activity that morning. Since the island’s radio station regularly issued volcano warnings, it required us to listen to the radio in hazardous areas.
I remember the emotions that I transferred to the zone of alienation. Entering a place that defeated a person, and continues to do so, was a sensation experienced by few people. No matter how much energy, money or connections he has, he is still the notorious volcano anthill and can be eliminated in seconds. Human nature thrives in terms of control, but control is not an option here. The head of defense opened the gate, and we went out into a situation that went beyond the limits of imagination. The only visible life was a few nervous lost dogs whose owners were forced to leave them during the evacuation. Otherwise it was a deadly silence, a ghost town, and even our car flew silently behind the morning wand, like snow.
Dead forests resembled giant toothpicks thrown into the ashes. The suffocating feeling overcame me when I saw cracked ash covering vegetation, wilt and choking, unable to produce oxygen. Similar to the outer edges of a nuclear explosion, everything was intact, but there was nothing. The roofs of the once beautiful houses of a million dollars were saved from the weight of rain soaked in ashes. Their television satellite dishes were reduced to simply giant ash bowls. The sites were empty. Only the ocean breeze squeaked children back and forth. The soul of this city has gone along with its people.
When we stopped at the side of the road, I realized that my official driver had switched a car radio station to a cricket game instead of monitoring local volcanic warnings. If we received a warning of an eruption, we would never know about it. But when we moved on, we would have no problems knowing if another eruption was initiated. For a short distance we walked through a dry dead forest, until we reached the cliff, and there stood the Soufriere Hills volcano. I felt the smell of a volcano when it leaked from the sulfuric gases from its vents. In his presence, I felt that we should whisper or say nothing. Words had no place here.
Boulders the size of school buses lay where they crumbled from their side. Nineteen farmers died here when she first started breaking out. I could barely see the longlines where farmers grow their crops from her. I had no problems portraying these gentle people waiting for their fields before the volcano swallowed them up. To the left lay the remains of entire villages, covered with ashes from fifteen to fifteen feet, which froze like concrete after rain. Next to me is a local journalist trying to find where her house once stood. She did not find him. All the landmarks that she used to search for her property in the past have now disappeared, either buried or burned.
From there we go to Plymouth, the former capital. From a distance, Plymouth looks like the ancient ruins of a society that left the area hundreds of years ago, except here, future archaeologists will dig up microwaves and cars instead of ceramics and hand tools. Plymouth was the center of activity of the whole island until 1995, when the pyroclastic flow descended from the volcano, destroying it forever in a matter of seconds. Their church is now just a sink of stone. Among all the rubble stands the altar with a copper cup hiding behind it.
Most of the three-story buildings looked like one-story buildings, since the bottom two stories were covered in ash and rock. I thought about the people who lived there, and wondered if they had some clue that the mountain right above them would wake up, change or ruin their lives in a matter of seconds. Within the ashes there were small rivers leading to the sea, engraved with the rain coming from the volcano, with each new storm, the landscape changes. In one district of Plymouth, a new “river” ran through the cemetery, washing the dead into the sea. In some areas, small patches of grass struggled to exist, despite the harsh conditions. Only herbs with shallow roots have a chance to survive. After a long time after the pyroclastic flow, you can find several meters in the ashes and find that it can still reach 600 degrees. After silently standing over this lost city, we felt that we had rather strongly removed our luck and decided to return to the safe zone. С еще одним взглядом вулкана, выгравированным в моем сознании, мы ушли.
Даже со всеми разрушениями, вызванными вулканами, я не чувствовал себя плохо против этого - просто уважение. Там я был на месте, которое было непригодным, неустойчивым и беззаботным на всю жизнь, но я не хотел уходить. Стоя рядом с чем-то подобным жестоким усилием и энергией, волнуйте меня прилив адреналина, который невозможно подобрать. Теперь я вижу, почему многие культуры поклоняются вулканам, считая их богами или богоподобными. У них есть власть над жизнью или смертью, требующая уважения и разведения страха. Мы отважились вернуться в безопасную зону, прочно заперв ворота позади нас. Выйдя из безопасной зоны, мы прибыли на мост, который был вымыт оползнем. Первоначально этот мост простирался через овраг глубиной более 40 футов. Когда сильные дожди смешивались с вулканическим пеплом, он создавал оползень, заполнявший укоренившееся русло реки. Он прошел по мосту и снесло соседнее поле для гольфа, покрывающее его пеплом и валунами, оставив его похожим на поверхность Луны. Грузовик, погруженный в воду, погружался в свои окна в высушенной грязи и скалах.
На следующее утро я поднял небольшую гору возле вулкана, чтобы найти исконную Монтсеррат-Иволну. Эта птица живет исключительно на Монтсеррате, и ее население было уничтожено из-за потери среды обитания из-за сельского хозяйства, урагана Хьюго, а три удара - это вулканическая деятельность. По некоторым оценкам, более 76% их местообитаний уничтожено. Большая часть потерь сосредоточена в гхаутах (французы для оврагов), главной среде обитания для ариоле и существенной для их выживания. Реальный сценарий заключается в том, что с продолжением извержений маловероятно, что жизнеспособное население выживет более 50 лет. Существует вероятность 50:50 полного вымирания в течение 10-15 лет. День был темным и моросящим. Толстый слой дырявых облаков покрыл горные вершины и висел перед вулканом, как театральный занавес. Толстая листва джунглей держала дождь ночи, и он осыпали меня, когда я пробрался сквозь тропический лес.
За крошечным холмиком зеленых папоротников и мхов я услышал, как вода мчалась и птицы чирикали. Я медленно прокрался сквозь холм и заглянул между двумя папоротниками, которые я разделял руками. Кристально чистый горный поток вылил через зубчатые скалы в небольшой бассейн, окруженный толстым ковром мха. Угольный черный оттенок богатой почвы противоречил темному контуру вокруг мха, в то время как мелкие корни различных растений захватывали землю как длинные пальцы. Розоватые цветы висели над бассейном, и их листья тянулись, как руки, улавливая туман крошечного падения воды. Среди цветов была черная и желтая бабочка Хеликония. Он приземлился на каждый из цветов, взвешивая их достаточно, чтобы вызвать расцветание, как пустые колокола. Незначительные ошибки осторожно очищали поверхность воды. Трудно было различать, куда бы они ни летели, а иногда касались воды или плавали и иногда поднимались из воды. Крошечные «неизвестные» вскарабкались в папоротники, заставляя листья дрожать, как будто все растение тихо хихикало. Я продолжал лежать на животе, спрятанном в папоротниках, надеясь увидеть, как пьют или купают Монсеррат Иволги. Я смотрел и слушал.
В следующий раз, когда вы окажетесь вокруг стремительного потока, послушайте его. Вы сможете услышать звук каждой музыкальной ноты, которую играют вместе. И в отличие от любого инструмента, играя каждую ноту сразу, она всегда успокаивает окружающих. Через несколько минут несколько птиц, которые выглядели так, будто они были одеты для парада Марди Гра, свалились с деревьев на ванну. Когда они загоняли свои перья на внешний край бассейна, в воздухе раздавался жужжащий звук. Затем из лесного утреннего тумана, колибри подбежал к одному из цветов и быстро вложил в него клюв с точностью хирурга.
Его местное название - «Доктор Птица», но его обычно называют фиолетово-коричневым Каримом. Эта блестящая птица в основном черная с фиолетовыми красными пятнами, голубовато-зеленым хвостом и металлическими зелеными крыльями. Чтобы его «одежда» светилась, он должен сохранять энергию. У мозга размером с рис риса этот 5-дюймовый длинный «Либеракс» должен помнить, что никогда не возвращался к тому же цвету дважды. Нанесение жизненной энергии на пустые цветы может означать смерть для колибри.
Когда он выпил все цветы, он повернулся ко мне и взвизгнул в воздухе. Как на дискотеке он вращался, отражая крошечные бусины тумана водопада, которые собирались на него. После короткой паузы он повернулся спиной ко мне и пронесся, хотя тропический лес, как психоделическая трассирующая пуля. Как только колибри вылетел из поля зрения, БУМ !!! Изверг вулкан! Взрывы звенели один за другим, как будто воздушный налет бомб падал на одну цель.
Я выскочил из-под папоротников и сбежал с горы. Борясь, чтобы остаться на тонкой тропе, я начал спотыкаться по заостренным камням и скользить по моху. В течение пяти минут (вероятно, нового мирового рекорда) я был вне леса и в крошечном поле рядом с небольшой грунтовой дорогой. Я посмотрел в небо и увидел облако пепла 20 000 футов. Подобно грибовидному облаку ядерной бомбы, он растет к небу, когда его пылающий расплавленный «корень» взбивается и ревет в земле. Как будто вспышка гнева от мифического бога, молния выстрелила из конуса, и гром вибрировал землю.
При температуре более 6000 градусов взрыв был настолько огромен, что он сразу же создал собственную систему погоды. До извержения было моросило. Во время первоначального извержения вулкан произвел гром и осветил. Через несколько минут стало ясно, солнечная прекрасная пляжная погода. Солнцезащитный оттенок и единственное видимое облако в небе были опущены на землю и высотой более 30 000 футов. Хотя это казалось идеальной погодой, дикая природа знала иначе. Ни одна птица не чирикала, а лягушка не хрипила. Я начал подпрыгивать до Салема, когда пепел сгустился и начал блокировать солнце. Когда он поднялся над моей головой, температура упала примерно на десять градусов, и город потемнел. Затем начался дождь, а не вода, но камни и ясень.
Сначала выпадает мелкая зола. Он настолько прекрасен, что даже не осознает своего падения, за исключением того, что у вас глаза зудят, как будто у вас сенная лихорадка. Затем гравийная пепел падает, как черный снег, который никогда не тает. Я поставил свой респиратор на лицо и продолжал бегать. Один учится принимать эту маленькую фильтрованную маску с вами повсюду в Монтсеррате. Дыхание пепла из этого вулкана может вызвать силикоз, также известный как черное легкое. Гравий пепел начал смешиваться с дождем, но это был не обычный дождь, это была серная кислота. Вулкан выделяет серные газы в атмосферу. Затем, находясь в атмосфере, сероводород и двуокись серы смешиваются и подвергаются набору химических реакций, обычно сочетающихся с водой для получения серной кислоты, крупных кислотных дождей.
Кислотные дожди Монтсеррат настолько сконцентрированы и интенсивны, что это отличное место для изучения эффектов кислотных дождей. Кислотный дождь сильно влияет на разнообразные наземные среды обитания Монтсеррата, такие как прибрежные мангровые заросли, полупустынная растительность и облачный лес. Кислотный дождь поражает растения, разрушая липиды и защитные мембраны их листвы, что приводит к их смерти. Вскоре пепел полностью заблокировал солнечные лучи, и город стал черным как ночь. Единственными звуками были гудение автомобильных рогов и «заклинание-охлаждение» склона автомобильных стеклоочистителей, царапающих падшую золу над их окнами. Я добрался до небольшого магазина в Салеме, где я ждал падения пепла и разговаривал с некоторыми из туземцев. Один джентльмен сказал: «Ах, это я.ремон, это орех». Перевод: «Ах, это хорошо, человек, это ничего». Это стало для них обычным явлением, что они кажутся более раздраженными вулканом, чем боятся его. Когда падающий пепел начал тонуть, я подтянул респиратор к моему лицу и поскакал к моему дому.
Позже в тот же вечер я обнаружил, что кислотный дождь вулкана сгнил с моих сапог. Затем, после того, как мои наручные часы разодрали меня с руки, я заметил, что кислотный дождь также слил датчик дождя. Вулкан - очень властная сила и затмевает внутреннюю красоту Монтсеррата, но добавляет к загадке острова. Это микрокосм того, как люди могут работать вместе во время разрушения иммунитета и отчаяния и все же оставаться счастливыми, полезными, уважительными и заботливыми.
С яркой стороны вулкан сохранил остров без раздражающих, неуважительных туристов. На всем острове есть только один пляж с белым песком, и туда можно добраться только на километр по городу или на лодке. Я сделал это своим раем, проведя целые дни, танцуя среди своего кораллового рифа, наблюдая за тысячами школьных рыб и периодически проходящей акулой, а затем дремал на белом песке, не видя еще одной человеческой души. Это стало моим укрытием, и я возвращаюсь туда, как позволяет жизнь. Если вы когда-нибудь захотите увидеть, как жизнь должна быть жива, посетите The.Emerald Dragon. Затем спросите меня, если я не на пляже, проверьте Moose.
