by Bobby Akart
“My guess is these islands were discovered by Spaniards,” added Jake. He was right. The Spanish expeditions of the early sixteenth century had sailed the uncharted waters of the Pacific for decades as they laid claim to Mexico and Central America.
“Wouldn’t they be surprised to know this tiny island has more than doubled in size since they found it?”
“What?” asked Jake with a puzzled look.
Ashby handed the binoculars back to Jake, who was able to get a better look as they got closer. She explained what she meant. “Do you see in the foreground how the island is dark with a smooth surface?”
“Yes, and the taller parts of the island behind it have more vegetation, but not necessarily lush.”
“Right.” Ashby took a seat on the bench and folded her bare legs underneath her. She wrapped the oversized sweatshirt she was wearing around her kneecaps for warmth. “Wait a minute. This is starting to make sense to me now.
“What?” She had Jake’s attention.
“I think I know where we are. You’re looking at San Benedicto Island.”
“How do you know?”
“It’s a volcano. I know where all the volcanoes are. It’s my job, remember?”
“Oh yeah,” Jake said with a laugh. “What’s unique about this one? I mean, you immediately recognized it.”
“Of course, I’ve never been here which is why I didn’t recognize it on the map,” began Ashby, “but I recall from my studies that the island erupted in 1952 as a significant, magnitude three on the VEI. San Benedicto was covered in ten feet of ash and ultimately formed a cone a thousand feet high. What was interesting about this eruption was the lull.”
“Lull?” asked Jake inquisitively.
Ashby continued. “After the vent opened and created the new cinder cone, the volcano rested for months. This was considered normal. Several teams of volcanologists traveled from the States and Europe to study the new formation at the north part of the island. Then, unexpectedly, magma broke through the island’s southeastern base and started to flow into the sea. This continued for five months until the volcanic system became dormant again.”
“Okay.” Jake was interested but confused.
“It was San Benedicto, and other volcanic islands like it, that prompted my study of the volcanic system at Kilauea and Mauna Loa. This tiny island was a microcosm of what was happening on the Big Island of Hawaii. The magma chambers of the two volcanoes were interconnected, one feeding off the other, but not necessarily at the same time.”
Jake looked at his heading and contemplated taking a hard turn to port to sail away from this volcano as quickly as possible. He was deep in thought as he did the fuel calculations in his mind when Ashby interrupted him.
“Jake?”
“Um, yeah. That’s really interesting, Dr. Donovan. Listen, I was thinking, maybe we’d be better off closer to the mainland. I know people suck and they always try to kill us, but I can shoot back at them. I can’t take on a volcano.”
Ashby snorted out her coffee and began laughing. “Come on, you big baby. San Benedicto hasn’t erupted in nearly seventy years. It’ll be fine.”
Jake turned to Ashby, tilted his head to the side, and raised his eyebrows. “When was the last time Yellowstone erupted?”
She quickly responded before catching herself, “Six hundred thirty thousand—okay, okay. I get your point.”
“Exactly,” said Jake with conviction. “So would you mind grabbing the charts and our cardboard ruler? I believe it’s time to set a different course.”
Ashby stood and forced Jake to scoot over on the bench to join him in front of the instrument panel. “No, we’re not changing course. If this island, or any of the other four, were to show signs of an eruption, we’d have ample time to leave. I promise.”
“We barely got away from the last one,” mumbled Jake.
“That was Yellowstone. Big, big difference. Trust me, okay?”
Jake nodded, but he still subtly steered a little to port, giving the volcanic island a little wider berth.
Chapter 26
The Pacific Ocean
Isla Socorro
Isla Socorro, like its sister islands in the Revillagigedo Archipelago, rose abruptly out of the ocean as a result of submarine volcanic activity. Its coastline was a combination of steep, rocky cliffs and coves nestled into the fingers that jutted from the shore.
The island had been carved by years of strong winds, which blew from Baja California into the Pacific during the winter. El Norte, a combination of winds crossing Mexico from the Gulf, and natural Pacific Ocean wind currents collide midway down the peninsula before spreading toward the west.
In the winter, El Norte can develop rapidly, turning the ocean into a heaving mass of swells and strong winds. In the summer, the effect is minimal, but the sea breezes still manage to bring moisture to Isla Socorro, making the windward side of the island lush with vegetation.
Jake drove directly toward a gap between two rock outcroppings, where he could see a sandy beach. He assessed the natural harbor as a suitable spot to anchor and provide an easy means of going on shore.
Ashby explained the history behind the rock formations as Jake entered the calm bay. “These fingers are created by hardened lava, frozen in time, following an eruption of the volcano.”
Jake throttled back and interrupted her. “This is a volcano, too?”
“Relax, they all are. This entire mid-ocean ridge, which runs parallel to Central America, is known as Mathematician’s Ridge. Over many thousands of years, submarine eruptions pushed the seamounts from the ocean floor to the water’s surface. Some continued to erupt, like Socorro, to form an actual island. Others, like San Benedicto, are strictly volcanic in nature and technically not considered an island.”
“Which is more dangerous from a volcanic-eruption perspective?” asked Jake.
Ashby saw the concerned look on his face and she understood. It had taken her many years to get over the eruption of Mount Pinatubo. Oddly, she was taking Yellowstone in stride.
“Typically, the seamounts still have eruptive capabilities. The greater danger from seamounts are flank collapses. As dormant volcanoes get older, the combination of ocean currents and extrusions seeping in the—”
Jake interrupted her. “No hablo ciencia, por favour.”
“Sorry, but hey, that’s pretty good,” said Ashby with a chuckle before continuing. “Sometimes my brain causes me to speak too technical. Extrusive rock refers to the volcanic formations of an island, resulting from the hot magma flowing out onto the surface as lava. That’s what you see resulting from the Hawaiian volcanoes. The main effect of the extrusion is that the magma cools quickly under the seawater, making it weaker than the rock formations cooled by the atmosphere above sea level.”
“Thank you, Doc. I’ve got it.” Jake slowed the yacht and allowed it to drift deeper into the cove, where a white sandy beach surrounded by palm trees awaited them.
Ashby continued. “Anyway, as the volcanoes get older, the extrusions can weaken, putting pressure on the sides of the volcano above sea level. Under these conditions, a future volcanic eruption would cause minimal damage to the atmosphere compared to the massive tsunamis generated by the landslides from the volcano’s structure sliding into the sea.”
“So I have to worry about the eruption and a tsunami? Good thing we have plenty of liquor on board.”
Jake shut off the engines and checked the gauges on the instrument panel. They were in twenty feet of water. He dropped anchor two hundred feet from shore, knowing that once the anchor caught the ground, the winds would turn the yacht backwards, leaving the stern closest to the beach. Unless the weather turned for the worst, the yacht would float carefree in the middle of the volcano-made safe harbor.
Jake and Ashby immediately noticed the crystal clear, turquoise waters surrounding the yacht. Between the huge boulders and rock formations that created the lava fingers, hundreds of colorful fish swam in schools
around them, occasionally darting out of the way of a slow-moving manta ray.
The giant Pacific manta rays, the largest of their type in the world, are slightly different from the mobula rays they’d witnessed earlier. These mantas can grow up to twenty-three feet across, although their average size was fifteen feet. They’re not known to fly above the ocean’s surface, spending most of their time milling about shallow coves like this one in search of food. Unlike many flat fish, the giant mantas cannot rest on the ocean floor, and they need to swim continuously to channel water over their gills to breathe.
The couple was mesmerized by the large triangular fins as they barely moved to push the ray through the water. The white tips of the rolled fins curled upward from time to time, propelling the ray toward a school of fish before flaring out to force water and prey into the animal’s rectangular mouth.
Ashby looked around the cliffs surrounding the beach and into the water below. “Let’s go swimming.”
Jake smiled. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, these don’t exactly look like shark-infested waters. Besides, the fish and the ray wouldn’t be this calm. Come on, let’s do it.”
Jake seemed cautious. “I don’t know.”
Ashby left him and bounded down the stairs until she’d reached the stern. Jake stood and watched as she gave him a playful grin and took her clothes off before diving into the water. Her white skin and slender figure could easily be seen as she swam around the yacht.
“When in Rome,” Jake began with a chuckle as he hustled down to join the love of his life. Within a minute, he too was skinny-dipping in the turquoise waters, surrounded by fish, the elegant ray, and under the careful watch of two pairs of eyes on the cliff above them.
Chapter 27
The Pacific Ocean
Isla Socorro
For the first time in many days, Jake and Ashby felt secure in their surroundings, as if the lava fingers had wrapped themselves around the couple for protection. They swam for nearly an hour and eventually made their way to the beach, where their childlike nature took over. Ashby ran into the lush vegetation and emerged with a large palm frond covering her naked body. She jokingly brought a very small one for Jake to use, claiming it had nothing to do with his size, and everything to do with her enjoyment of looking at him.
Jake chased her around and the two adults playfully enjoyed one another before they agreed it was time to explore their newfound paradise. They swam back to the yacht, and Jake worked diligently to deploy the Zodiac while Ashby loaded their backpacks for a trek around the island.
The Grand Banks 60 came equipped with a Zodiac Yachtline inflatable boat, which was at the rear of the yacht, suspended on a hydraulic crane. The five-seat inflatable was powered by a Yamaha, forty-horsepower gasoline outboard engine.
Jake fired up the dedicated generator that powered the hydraulic crane and carefully maneuvered the inflatable boat over the water. The hydraulic lift slowly dropped the Zodiac just as Ashby emerged with their backpacks. She tossed them into the inflatable and towed it around to the stern, where she tied it off.
Jake began to reverse the winch, and Ashby shielded her eyes from the bright sun and looked up to him. “Which weapons do you wanna carry?”
“Our sidearms, your AR and my M16. Grab some extra magazines for each. You never know.”
“I’m on it,” Ashby responded as she reentered the yacht. Jake gave a final check of their position in relation to where he originally dropped anchor. They hadn’t drifted at all.
Ashby reemerged with the magazines stowed in two fanny packs they’d found in a closet. “I’ve got the keys. Do you wanna change clothes, or are you good?”
Jake was wearing shorts and a tee shirt, together with sneakers. It wasn’t exactly ideal attire for a hike, but most of his clothing had been left back at Fruitvale West. “I’m good. Let’s go.”
Twenty minutes later, they’d pulled the Zodiac onto the beach and tied its bow line to a palm tree’s trunk. They fought their way through the thick foliage as they traversed the steep slope that led to the cliffs atop the northern coast of Isla Socorro. Once they arrived at the top, they paused to catch their breath and take in the view of San Benedicto.
Ashby was breathing heavily, bent over with her hands on her knees as she looked down to the yacht. “Well, that was a pain. It’s a shame there isn’t a trail.”
“Actually, I’m glad there isn’t one. It would mean we aren’t alone.”
“The maps showed a dock of some kind here. Someone must live on the island, right?”
“Maybe, or it was abandoned. One thing I learned on Survivor, not every island has a freshwater source. From the looks of the slopes coming off the mountain, all of the rainwater may run into the sea. No fresh water means no inhabitants.”
“Perfect, just what we were looking for,” interjected Ashby. “Deserted. Uninhabited. Lost. Whatever you wanna call it, I’ll take it.”
Jake reached for her hand and smiled. “I get it, but you can’t drink seawater. Let’s go look around, but before we do, let’s make sure we can find our way back.”
“That’s easy,” said Ashby. She walked away from Jake and stood sideways with her arms spread out, pointing in a north-south direction. “Check it out. The peak of our volcano is in perfect alignment with the two on San Benedicto.”
“Wonderful, thanks for the reminder.”
They began their hike, walking along the shoreline first as they searched for the dock indicated on the map. It was located on the south side of the island, but Jake was uncomfortable sailing their boat right up to it. He preferred to do a little exploring first, coupled with some surveillance if necessary.
As they traveled south along the east coast of the island, the ground became increasingly rocky with less vegetation. The lush, tropical foliage began to give way to scrubland consisting of cacti and a low-growing flowering plant from the croton genus.
“Look at the elevation difference,” Ashby began to explain. “The northern side of the island and the areas at the base of the volcano are lush and tropical. I’m going to guess the peak rises to three thousand feet, maybe higher. The farther south we go, the more desertlike the soil becomes. I believe the winds coming from the north carry moisture that never finds its way to the lower elevations on the south side.”
Jake glanced toward the cliffs overlooking the east coast of the island. “It may be flat, but it’s not sea level. That’s still a substantial drop-off.”
“That’s exactly what I was talking about when I mentioned seamounts earlier. Water currents and erosion caused the ocean to hack away at the island until it gradually dropped into the sea. Now, turn around and imagine what would happen if the side of the volcano suddenly collapsed into the Pacific as the volcano erupted. The land mass would crash into the surrounding water, creating an enormous displacement of the ocean. That would generate a massive tsunami.”
“Like in Japan?” asked Jake.
“No, Japan, and India in ’04, was caused by an earthquake along the ocean floor. Tsunamis caused by mountain landslides can be much more devastating. One of these days I’ll tell you about Cumbre Vieja in the Canary Islands. You have no idea—”
Jake immediately protested. “Stop it, Ashby. I’m in my happy place today.”
Ashby laughed and gave Jake a playful shove. “Seriously, if Cumbre Vieja were to collapse, the wave of—”
“No!” yelled Jake jokingly as he quickly covered his ears.
They continued to walk, stopping occasionally to retrieve water bottles from their backpacks. The constant sea breeze kept the island cool, but dehydration can occur despite someone not feeling the effects of the warm climate.
“I’ve got an idea.” Ashby changed the subject. “Let’s play a game.”
“Now?”
“Yeah, you know, as we walk. Or I’m gonna continue to tell you how cool this volcanic island is.”
“Okay, okay. What game?”
Ashby laughed. �
��Let’s play—Would you rather, island edition.”
Jake caught up to Ashby and kissed her on the cheek. “I really love you, despite your silliness.”
She blushed and leaned her head over for another smooch. “I love you, too. Now, play with me. I’ll go first.”
“Okay, go,” said Jake.
“Would you rather be on an episode of Lost or Survivor?”
Jake grinned. “Easy, the answer is both.”
“No, dope. You have to pick one.”
“But I was on both. In ’04, I was an extra on the fifth episode of season one, which was titled ‘White Rabbit.’ Matthew Fox, or, you know, Jack Shephard on the show, had a flashback to his past when he went looking for his father in Australia. I played an extra in a bar scene.”
“You were in Australia?” asked Ashby.
“Yep, beautiful place,” replied Jake. “Okay, my turn.”
Ashby waited for her question. She reached behind her to retrieve the binoculars from her backpack.
Jake asked, “Would you rather be alone on a deserted island like Tom Hanks in Cast Away, or with a bunch of misfits like Gilligan’s Island?”
“Oh, that’s an easy one. I’d go crazy being all alone. I don’t know if I’d start talking to volleyballs, however. Gilligan’s Island for sure. Plus, Gilligan was a real cutie.”
Jake chuckled. “I think he was gay.”
“He was still cute. The professor was all nerdy and boring. The Skipper was too … skippery.”
“You drive me crazy,” quipped Jake.
“Speaking of Gilligan’s Island, back at ya. Would you rather—Ginger or Mary Ann?”
Jake laughed out loud. He knew the smart thing to do was tread lightly with his answer, shrugging it off as if wasn’t something he’d ever thought about. But Ashby had been teasing him a lot today and had scored several punches in the process. He decided to throw it back at her.
