HANGING OVER LAVA BED

Evening Star, Issue 19762, 12 January 1928, Page 2

HANGING OVER LAVA BED

RISKY DESCENT OF NGAUDUHOE AN AWE-INSPIRING SPECTACLE [Special to tub ‘ Star.’] PALMERSTON N., January 11. Impossible ns a descent into the crater of an active volcano may appear, even in this age of scientific miracles, the impossible was achieved on the last day of the old year by a well-known resident of Palmerston North (Mr C. T. Salmon). Accompanied by two companions— Mr G. Sainsbnry, of Wairoa, and Captain Oliver Sutcliffe, late of the Indian Army and now of Auckland —Mr Salmon climbed Ngauruhoe on December 31 with the express determination of descending into the crater. To the man in the street such a journey would appear nothing but a material entrance into the nether regions, but Mr Salmon and party did not depart without a full realisation of what they were undertaking.

One of the foremost authorities on Tongariro National Park, Mr Salmon has spent many vacations exploring the wonders of this remarkable region. For years he has been interested in the belching crater pf Ngauruhoe, and in his own words was “ determined to see what was at the bottom of it.”

The last day of 1927 will live long in the memories of the adventurous three who set out to attempt the impossible. “ For years,” said Mr Salmon, “ I have been reconnoitring the crater of Ngauruhoe with the idea of going down. This time I decided that if the conditions were favorable I would make the attempt to get right down. With that end in view the three of ns set out on the last day of the old year. We took with ns as equipment 300 ft or 400 ft of rope and improvised gas masks consisting of very close silk knit soaked thoroughly in water and wound round the head, leaving the eyes exposed.” Mr Salmon then proceeded, to explain the formation of the interior of the volcano’s crater. From “ Dead Horse Flat ” a terrace 350 ft inside the top of the main crater, the party began their perilous descent. The leader went ahead with a rope fastened to his body holt, and began to scramble down the shelving slope which runs from the flat down into the mountain’s heart. One hundred and fifty feet below “Dead Horse Flat” is the main vent. ■Though dense fumes wore belching up through the crater, the leader climbed down to the vent, followed by the other two, keeping a strain on the rope. As the party descended the crater grew narrower until they reached the lip of the main vent. Fifty feet below the lip is a ledge or terrace, below which is the roaring cylindrical funnel that is the vent itself.

On the brink of the precipice, amid rolling clouds of vapor the party held a last debate whether one of them should attempt the impossible and descend into the fiery furnace. “But having come so far at such risk,” said Mr Salmon, “ I thought we might as well be killed for a sheep as a lamb, so I said wo ought to go for it.” The somewhat questionable distinction of being the lucky one fell to Mr Salmon. The rope was anchored round a heavy boulder on the lip, and preparations were made to swing the leader down into the crater. The funnel, said Mr Salmon, presented an awesome sight. It was about 26ft to 30ft across, and the walls descended straight down into the volcano’s heart. In many places, indeed, it was overhanging, and the party chose for the descent a place which was not so precipitous as the rest of the vent.

With the rope under his arms, Mr Salmon swung over the ledge, and a second later had disappeared from, sight into the belching maw of the volcano. “I kept my face turned inwards, away from the steam,” said Mr Salmon, “ and with my ice axe worked my way down, finding footholds in rock 50ft to 60ft down. I was hanging clear when I first sighted the molten lava. It was the most remarkable and altogether amazing sight that I have ever imagined or conceived. It was glowing red, almost white, through the billowing furious vapors and gases, and over its surface was a furious lambent glow. Black masses of rock were either floating in it or projecting out of it. The noise was unimaginable, a roaring, bubbling sound which rendered the vent an inferno. I was hanging about 25ft above the main lava bed. About 15ft above it was a small ledge about 2ft wide, which I was trying to reach, but I could not .quite manage it. I could only open my eyes for moments at a time, as the heat seared them terribly. Perspiration was.pouring from me. The sight of that lake of lava with the lambent fire playing over it was the greatest sight ever conceived of.” After he had been hanging for three or four minutes Mr Salmon’s companions above excusahly became alarmed for his safety, and although he had not given the prearranged signal they drew him to the lip of the crater again.

“ Having accomplished so much,” concluded the narrator, “ I did not linger, but got out of it as quickly as possible. I was only a bullet in the funnel waiting to ho blown out of the huge gun.” Mr Salmon expressed the opinion that the unique and aweinspiring experience was well worth the terrible risk attached. The greatest danger, he said, was from superheated steam, which was invisible, and would boil a human being alive in a second. Volcanoes rarely emitted poisonous vapors, so he had little fear in this direction. The improvised gas masks served their purpose excellently. Mr Salmon is none the worse for his nerve-racking experience, save that for several days after the descent his eyes were very sore from the effects of the heat and fumes.