‘As I suspected, my German group has cancelled. They are already on their way to the airport despite the fact their flight is not until this evening. Total over-reaction, if you ask me! One of the group who could not cope with the heights – Herr Vertigo I called him – spooked them all. If matters get any worse there will be media attention and that will be bad for business.’
‘Do they know something we don’t?’ asked Damian.
‘I very much doubt it. They were hill walkers and not high mountain hikers, so the terrain was far too difficult for them.’
‘On the other hand, the Malmesbury orienteering group clearly have far more grit and determination,’ said Damian. ‘I spoke to one of them last night before dinner and they seemed keen to continue. I’ve arranged to meet them at their hotel within the hour to take stock and to plan a low risk walk if they want one.’
Damian was about to leave the table when Claudine said out loud to nobody in particular. ‘We might as well trek to the ORM as it is a manageable distance. We could be there by tomorrow afternoon.’
‘No problem with me,’ replied Maria, a bit too enthusiastically.
They had discussed this option into the early hours.
‘In any event Ros and Simon will need someone to support them with the monitoring of the devices along the Ruta and who better than us to assist,’ said Maria, her face flushed.
Claudine thought, she can’t wait to meet up with Simon. How lovely! Her aunt and uncle also spotted their niece’s noticeable change in demeanour once Simon’s name was mentioned.
The girls were delighted to get the call to move to the ORM as part of the wider effort to monitor the island’s volcanoes. The fact that Ros and Simon were going to be there was an added bonus. The chemistry between Simon and Maria had nothing to do with basalt rocks and lava flows. Maria had confided in her sister about the relationship, without going into too much detail. Of course Claudine saw the signs: the jitters when the phone rang, the blushes when she spoke to Simon, every call on Facetime that went on far longer than purely practical updates would require. How can people talk for so long, she wondered. Does conversation never run out? As the pair had not held hands for two months, she dared not imagine how they would behave when they met again.
The girls had hiked the famous Ruta de los Volcanes dozens of times. The trail may be arduous to most, but they were fit and mountain aware. The girls were not only trainee volcanologists but also expert mountain climbers. Even if there was a repeat of the tremors they would press ahead.
‘Maria, please keep your mobile on and activate the auto-find App,’ implored her nervous aunt.
Margarida had a sinking feeling, a dull sense of foreboding, that the girls’ bravado wasn’t justified. Youngsters rarely considered the risks of the actions they took. Hiking the Ruta was a risk even on a bright summer’s day. But with the events of yesterday it took on additional dimensions. Margarida knew she was a conservative person by nature, too conservative at times, especially in relation to routine matters, but when nature started to behave in an unpredictable manner, she instinctively knew it was time to be cautious.
‘If you need drone support call me,’ added Damian as he helped them put on their well-provisioned backpacks.
Once everything was organised, the girls headed out the door for the GR 131. Damian turned to Margarida.
‘I best be off to meet my group.’
Damian searched for his phone, keys and wallet.
‘Do you mind if I join you?’ said Margarida, her protective instinct kicking in. ‘Safety in numbers and all that.’
‘No problem, Cherie. Actually, given the circumstances, it’s best that the two of us accompany them.’
They set off for the Hotel Taburiente.
At the hotel, which – in contrast with the previous day – was almost deserted, the Malmesbury group were ready in their mountain gear. Their backpacks were provisioned with the day’s essentials. They were waiting in the reception area with an air of calm. Damian sat them down around a coffee table. He introduced Margarida.
‘Same as before guys: I’ll give you a full briefing about the route before we set out. It’s important that you not only know the route, but that you can visualise it.’
He opened up his trusty map and his selection of photos.
‘Today’s target is the observation point called Lomo de las Chozas, close to the car park at La Cumbrecita. It’s within the Caldera de Taburiente National Park and is accessible on a tarmacadam road from the Visitors’ Centre. It’s a seven-kilometres uphill walk through one of the prettiest forests on the island. It may not be as dramatic as yesterday’s barren volcanic scenery, but your effort will be worth it as we transverse through the valley into the centre of the island, at the base of the Caldera de Taburiente. I’ll arrange for the bus to collect us at the information point at La Cumbrecita. This is a one-way walking adventure.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Judith. Her group all nodded approval. They set off calmly.
As in previous days, walking conditions were perfect. It was around twenty degrees Celsius with a light breeze. As they were using a paved road and were largely in the shade of forest, they progressed at a good pace.
Judith peppered Margarida with questions as they walked along beside each other.
‘Yes, we’re in the Riachuelo valley. Over the peak to the left is the ascent to the Pico de la Nieve. Only mountain goats and experienced and fit hikers would ever attempt that trail and only in the best of conditions. For much of the trail, the path is barely a metre wide, with almost vertical sheer drops. Having a parachute would be an idea.’
Another question.
‘Yes, the Canary pine forest catches fire every few years, and yes fire breaks have been built to minimise the damage. It’s the only tree variety that puts out new shoots from its trunk and branches after a fire.’
And another.
‘Yes, there have been heavy storms down this valley. When it rains there is severe flooding and erosion. The culverts at the side of the road are designed to prevent the road being washed away. When it is damaged it is re-built.’
Judith paused for a while, perhaps taking in the panorama of the rising forest against the backdrop of brown and black coloured cliffs of basalt lava. The hills of the Cotswolds had a lot to offer but the guidebooks didn’t do this place justice. It was a hiker’s paradise.
She walked up beside Margarida.
‘He is really cute, isn’t he? Damian. He’s gorgeous.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Well I wouldn’t mind if he swept me off my feet!’
‘Really?’
‘I bet you he has a girlfriend.’
‘No, he hasn’t.’
‘That’s promising then.’
Margarida smiled as she prepared to deliver her punchline. ‘He has a wife.’
‘So, he’s off limits I suppose.’ Judith was clearly disappointed.
With a beaming smile Margarida concluded the exchange. ‘As his wife, I believe he is spoken for.’
Judith could only say ‘Ah.’
Turning crimson with embarrassment she nervously rubbed her hands and walked ahead to join another member of the group. Damian caught up with Margarida.
‘What was that all about?’
‘You have one less suitor.’
He laughed. ‘You’ve a way to dissuade my admirers.’
She smiled.
After walking for about two hours Damian called the group to a halt.
‘Best we take a rest here for five minutes as the climb up to La Cumbrecita is quite steep.’
The final ascent took just twenty minutes. The view surprised the group. The cliff tops of the ridge of the Caldera de Taburiente towered as far as the eye could see. There was a blanket of thick white cloud above them. Without warning a fully f
ormed rainbow emerged and joined the floor of the valley five hundred metres to the left. The cameras were soon clicking. WhatsApp messages were sent far and wide.
‘This is one of the best views of the Caldera,’ said Damian. ‘But there is an even better viewing point at the end of the trail. Let’s head to the Lomo de las Chozas. It’s just over a kilometre to the left side of the car park.’
With the promise of an even better panorama they proceeded along a wide zigzag path.
‘Look up high to the left. This is an old eroded dyke.’ Damian began his tour guide commentary. ‘Dykes are former volcanic vents through which the lava flowed when this area was active many years ago. See the dark-coloured edges? The minerals include black pyroxenes. Look up to the summit right of Pico Bejenado. The ochre-coloured soil lies beneath greyer soil. This is the dividing line between two periods of intense volcanic activity. La Cumbrecita is located in the area of La Palma’s first volcanic period.’
The air was still. This added to the wonder of the track that had been carved out of the lava outcrops. Whatever about the barren mountains above the left side of the path, the steep ravines and gullies to the right were populated with the ever-present Canary pine with some trees rising vertically to over one hundred metres. They temporarily blocked out the view over the valley.
Rock plants were in abundance. Given the amount of rainfall at this height they thrived in what was otherwise a barren landscape.
‘One unique feature of the Canary pine is that it has deep roots.’ Damian pointed to a towering pine on the side of the track. Its base was eroded away exposing a massive tangle of roots to a depth of nearly ten metres scattered in all directions. The roots sought out water that was clearly in short supply.
‘It’s clinging for life,’ said Judith.
They moved forward.
‘Get your cameras ready,’ said Damian. ‘The Lomo de las Chozas lookout point is just ahead. As the rock outcrop is atop a sheer drop of five hundred metres, there is a rail to prevent you falling off. I suggest you descend the steps in small groups, as the space is tight.’
Ever to the front, Judith and three of her friends walked carefully, following the wooden rail, down a series of uneven stone steps that were carved out of the large boulders that comprised the Lomo de las Chozas. Within a minute they had reached the high wooden guard rail on the outcrop. They soon realised why the rail was an essential support. At the very rim of the Lomo de las Chozas they got a stunning panoramic view of the entire length of the Caldera de Taburiente and the valleys and smaller rises at its base. The drop to the valley floor was precipitous.
They started to take photos as the view was strikingly photogenic.
Judith turned on the video feature of her Canon EOS 80. The new DSLR was her pride and joy. She was a skilled amateur photographer and knew how to make the most of the 30 to 135mm lenses. She was so engrossed in doing a voice over for her video that she didn’t notice the initial jolt, nor did she immediately realise what was happening. Her camera slipped from her grip. Tumbling to the ground, the live video continued to record.
She realised before she was knocked to the ground that a violent tremor was responsible. Her experience from the day before came back to her. She also knew this tremor was far more severe, although the time needed to process this information was brief, a fraction of a second. She tried to get to her feet and failed. Her friends were also struggling to keep their balance.
Damian and Margarida were making small talk when the tremor started. They were a hundred metres back on the track they too realised in an instant what was happening.
‘Margarida, look.’
He had barely spoken before a large cracking sound could be heard. A noise that sounded like a muffled quarry explosion. It seemed to fill the entire space around them.
Judith and her friends were comprehensively startled by the tremor and the unnatural noise. They were rigid with fear as the wooden guard rails buckled, split into pieces and fell into thin air. They snapped out of their initial fright to try and compose themselves. They managed to get back to their feet and took two paces up the steps back to the main track where the rest of the group waited. In the distance they saw the fear in their friends’ eyes. Not for themselves as they were on terra firma. The eyes of the unwitting spectators to the unfolding disaster also conveyed a sense of deep sadness.
The earth shook violently. A wide crack suddenly appeared in the front of their feet as if someone had shattered the rocky outcrop with a powerful hatchet. Brown dust particles shot into the air. In a split second the section of the outcrop where they were standing separated away from the walkway that lead to the path ten metres above them. Judith and her friends were left stunned momentarily as the platform broke away with a loud bang. It then fell into the valley far below like an elevator that’s cable had been cut descending the exterior of a tall skyscraper.
If it had been recovered Judith’s live video would have shown a party of four who had just a second or two to accept their fate.
They were the first casualties on La Palma.
There would be more – many more.
As Damian and Margarida were leading their group towards La Cumbrecita, Claudine and Maria headed out on the GR 131 north of the town of Los Canarios. After a gentle ascent they reached Volcán Martín, with its red-pink cone contrasting with the green forest pines on its flanks. The Atlantic Ocean was visible over the edge of the sandy volcanic slopes. It was calm and partly cloudy. Perfect conditions. There were no signs of any disturbance to the surface of the sea.
They decided it would be wise to phone Ros and Simon. Simon answered as the mobile indicated the call was from Maria.
Maria went crimson on hearing his voice. She sat down as the conversation started.
‘You’ll never guess where we are?’
‘Surprise me,’ said Simon.
‘We’re at over nineteen-hundred metres.’
‘Eh? you’re on the mountain?’
‘Yes, we’re two kilometres short of Volcán de la Deseada.’
‘What are you doing there, or is that a stupid question?’ Simon’s voice changed. Gone was the soft gentle talk to his girlfriend. Instead, he switched tone to that of a worried parent.
‘We decided to hike it to the ORM and what better way than on the Ruta.’
‘You won’t make it by sunset.’
‘I know, so we plan to camp overnight at the visitors’ centre at Refugio El Pilar. All going well we should join you for lunch tomorrow.
‘Be careful!’
Simon stopped talking.
Although it was a solid and modern structure, the ORM wasn’t immune to tremors and this one was sufficiently violent to knock over some furniture and cause storage racks to fall. Their precious – and near full – cafetière fell and broke into bits.
Looking up from his screen Ros shouted. ‘2.2 on the Richter and it was also shallow and not far from here.’
This was the same seismic tremor that shattered the outcrop at Lomo de las Chozas, no more than three kilometres, as the crow flies, from the ORM.
‘Maria, did you feel that?’ said Simon with a tremor in his voice.
‘Sure did.’
‘I suggest you hurry to Refugio El Pilar. I was going to ask you to check out the instruments at the Volcán de la Deseada but give it a skip. If there are more tremors, we can expect to see small vents blowing very soon. They could emerge anywhere, so you’ll need to be on high alert for the warning signs. If the ground starts to bulge anywhere near you run away as fast as you can. You have your oxygen masks?’
‘Of course.’
Claudine took over the conversation.
‘Simon, I’m not at all worried about the tremors. We can manage a bit of rock and roll. Have you any insights from Mark about the likely strength, or the main source of the seismic activity?’
‘No details yet, but he expects there may be several minor tremors across the entire range of the Ruta. You are in the middle of the danger zone. Be aware and behave accordingly.’
She handed the phone back to Maria.
‘Keep in touch. Stay safe. Please phone in an hour or so,’ concluded Simon.
‘Will do. Love you.’
Maria and Claudine pressed on in silence and in the uncomfortable knowledge that something very dangerous might happen.
The track varied from black volcanic rock, well-worn from decades of walkers, to soft pine needles in the sections that went through the high forests. While keeping up a brisk pace, they paused at intervals to take in the vistas all around them. Isolated volcanic cones peppered the skyline. This was after all the Route of the Volcanoes. They didn’t need a map to identify the surrounding terrain. As seasoned mountain hikers they knew every Pico, every Mirador (viewpoint) and could identify the small villages at the foothills.
‘It’s time to play our geography quiz.’
‘Fair enough,’ replied Claudine.
‘Usual terms?’
‘Of course. The loser prepares the dinner and does the wash and clean up.’
There was a huge incentive to take the game seriously.
The quiz was always spontaneous.
It could be short, or long and often went on for hours. Such was the extent of the geography and geology in these unique mountains. Maria started. She knew a new transmitter station had been installed since they last walked the Ruta and thought she could get one up on her sister.
‘What’s on top of the mountain ridge at five hundred metres?’
‘Are we talking about Volcán Martin?’
‘Yes, but the question is not the name of the mountain but what’s on top it?’
‘Sneaky, but within the rules.’
She too had a difficult question up her sleeve and had been waiting weeks to find the opportunity to test Maria.
Claudine squinted her eyes to focus on the mélange of mauve, orange and cream rocks and ash that shaped the rim of the volcano that lasted erupted in 1646. Its lava flows had reached the eastern coast of the island.
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