I can't help thinking that I and others warned against this very thing...
It was a lovely day. In spite of my fears, the soft breeze off the ocean was cooling, the scent of plumeria light and refreshing on the air. I was cajoled to dance to Radio Riel's wonderful music, but my eyes kept being drawn to the now-active volcano just offshore.
There were a group of folks gathered at the water's edge to fish; another group held court by a brick grill on which bits of seasoned meat merrily charred. We had sunbathing Duchesses, dancing friends, wandering geese. It was a beautiful day.
Then, we heard rumbling across the water. Not too long after, the first jets of superheated steam were seen. And then we saw our first glimpse of lava, pouring down to the shore.
Hot pyroclastic ash and slabs of cooling magma (lava bombs) soon filled the air. Gases spewed, and it began to be both difficult to breathe, and difficult to see.
Someone had brought an experimental car to test its aviatic ability. A passing chunk of magma struck it, rocketing it very close to the shore's edge. Several gentles had to quickly step out of its path, and many who would not have been hit, were due to dodging from a runaway vehicle, into the path of molten lava!
I stood next to Mr. Nix Sands, so very depressed that my worst fears were being realized. But there was worse yet to come.
Mr. Sands, before being struck by a burning crust of cooling lava...
...and after, staggering towards the shore in shock.
Miss AutopilotPatty Poppy, being nibbled unto near-death by rabid vorpal bunnies, frightened and made aggressive by the blast. She barely escaped with her life.
In the midst of the devastation, new land was seen rising from the bay, just as the first rescue efforts labored their way to shore.
(Continued, most tragically, in part II.)
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