We’re accustomed to old mountains, as many of the world’s people make their homes on those that formed millions—or billions—of years ago. But the mountains that make up the Hawaiian Island chain are more recently formed, layered up from the ocean floor and built by the lava flowing down. Erosion from the rain and the wind has carved the pleats we fly past, particularly on the windward sides of the islands. Looking across their heights passing under the wings of a Cessna 210, we peer into what the ancient Earth must have looked like by witnessing these evergreen dark mountains in their youth. The islands grow younger as we fly south and east along the chain from Kalaeloa/John Rodgers Field (PHJR), near Honolulu, from which we’ve based for our visit. The island of O‘ahu on which Honolulu sits is three million years old. Moloka‘i is 1.3 million years old, as is the western side of Maui—but the eastern half of the island is a mere 750,000 years old. A new island, Lō‘ihi, will break the surface southeast of the Big Island of Hawai‘i in an estimated 50,000 years. It has just 3,000 feet to go.
The Hawaiian Islands evoke dreams of paradise for many of us, from around the world—but the most for those who call this volcanic sprinkle in the Pacific Ocean home. And by flying yourself around them, you gain a perspective that few tourists take away.
