By Sid Perkins
Kilauea, a volcano on the Big Island of Hawaii, has been erupting for more than 22 years. That marathon eruption is just one of the features that make this tropical peak stand out in the volcanic crowd. Kilauea’s lavas, which often wend their way to the sea, where they create towering plumes of steam are richer in iron than those from most other volcanoes. Also, Kilauea’s locale is odd. The majority of volcanoes lie near an edge of one of Earth’s tectonic plates, but Kilauea sits far out in the North Pacific, more than 3,000 kilometers from the nearest plate boundary.
There are geographical idiosyncrasies all around Kilauea too. It shares the Big Island with four other volcanoes, only one of which is considered active. Other islands and submerged seamounts in the Hawaiian archipelago, all formed by volcanoes long dormant or extinct, stretch in a tight line toward the northwest for 3,500 km. There, the single file of seamounts makes a 60° dogleg to the north. The farther the islands and seamounts are from Kilauea, the older their rocks.
The apparent chronology of this picket fence of volcanoes and seamounts, along with evidence culled from the chemistry of their respective lavas, led some scientists decades ago to speculate that the islands were formed as the ocean crust supporting them inched northwest over an abnormally hot spot in Earth’s mantle.