Here, we use records from historical eruptions at two typical subduction-zone volcanoes (Santorini, Greece; Soufrière, St. Vincent) to illustrate how retrospective analysis of the wider archives and records of past eruptions might help in the management of ongoing and future crises.
4.1 The Kameni Islands, Santorini, Greece
First we consider post-caldera dome-forming eruptions on the Greek island of Santorini; a restless caldera in the Mediterranean. The volcano is well known to the local residents (e.g. Dominey-Howes and Minos-Minopoulos 2004), and intimately linked to the deep archaeological history of both Santorini, and the Aegean Bronze Age ‘Minoan’ culture (e.g. Marinatos 1939). It has a significant transient summer population of tourists; some of whom will have come to see the volcano and its hot springs.
Over the past 3000 years, a series of dacite lava and tephra eruptions have progressively built the Kameni islands; a 4 km3 edifice which now emerges above sea level within the caldera (Druitt et al. 1999; Nomikou et al. 2014; Table 1; Fig. 1). The first eruptions to form the nascent Kameni islands would have been exclusively submarine, but there have been at least 8 subaerial eruptions since 46 AD which have progressively enlarged the Kameni islands (Fytikas et al. 1990; Pyle and Elliott 2006; Nomikou et al. 2014). Of these eruptions, there are written contemporary accounts of six, and detailed accounts of all known eruptions since 1707.
Table 1 Historical activity of the Kameni islands, Santorini, Greece
An eruption from 1707–11 was the first such event on Santorini to be documented in a journal (Box 1, Gorée 1710); and is the earliest eruption of Santorini for which early maps or sketches exist (Fig. 2). 150 years later, from 1866 to 1870, a major dome-forming eruption became the focus of a significant amount of contemporary observation and writing. This eruption led to the first treatise on the medical effects of volcanic eruptions and their gas emissions (da Corogna 1867), and was documented in considerable detail by Ferdinand Fouqué, leading to the modern ideas on the origin and evolution of calderas (Fouqué 1879). Contemporary observations of eruptions in 1866–70 and 1925–1928 detail the eruption progress, including rates of dome growth, of explosions, and lava extrusion. These datasets provide the essential quantitative information that underpin later forecasts for the style of future activity (e.g. Watt et al. 2007; Jenkins et al. 2015). The last of the eruptions of Santorini was in 1950, three decades before the installation of the first instrumental monitoring networks on the islands.
Box 1: The 1707 eruption of Nea Kameni, Santorini
Excerpt from Gorée Fr (1710) ‘A relation of a new island, which was raised up from the bottom of the sea on the 23rd of May 1707, in the Bay of Santorin, in the Archipelago’.
‘Five days before it appeared, viz on the 18th of May between one and two of the clock in the afternoon, there was at Santorini an earthquake, which was not violent and continued but a moment; and in the night between the 22nd and 23rd there was also another, which was yet less sensible than the former […] Add to this, that a long time before the earthquakes the fishermen perceived an ill smell every time they passed by that place […] Notwithstanding it is very certain that there have not been any other earthquakes at Santorini than those which, 14 or 15 years ago, continued for several days and were very violent. However it was, some seamen discover’d this island early in the morning, but not being to distinguish what it was they imagined it to be some sort of vessel that that had suffered shipwrack.
The smoak appeared first upon the 16th of July: at which time there rose up a ridge of black stones and which was afterwards not only the centre of the while island, but also of the fire, and smoke and great noise that was heard some time after. The smoak which issued out of this ridge of stones […] was very thick and white.’
4.2 Eruption Progress
Work on the Kameni islands since the mid-1800s documenting both the nature of eruptions and the petrology of the erupted products meant that by the early 21st century, volcanologists were able to develop a simple but detailed conceptual model of what a future eruption might look like. The key factors that fed into the model were:
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The observations that the compositions of the erupted products, and the style of eruption have varied very little over the past 500 years (e.g. Nicholls 1971);
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The observation that many of these eruptions may have been ‘triggered’ by the influx of hot, volatile-rich magma some short time before (e.g. Higgins 1996; Martin et al. 2006);
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The observation that there is an apparent linear relationship between the period elapsed since the last eruption, and the volume erupted in the next eruption (Pyle and Elliott 2006).
This led to the hypothesis that the next eruption of the Kameni islands would be preceded by ‘general uplift of the edifice and discoloration of the sea, and anticipated some days to weeks in advance. The eruption would involve the early formation of lava domes, which would later act as a focus for vigorous, intermittent explosive activity’ (Pyle and Elliott 2006, p. 266).
The recognition of a relationship between eruption length and the interval between eruptions for the last 4 large eruptions of the Kameni islands, consistent with a model of a constant time-averaged deep supply of magma, also meant that it was possible to forecast the duration of a future eruption. While this analysis is entirely empirical—based on collation of observations from eruptions over the past 300 years—this approach is typical of the way in which much modern volcanology still operates; this analysis would not have been possible without the depth and breadth of contemporary descriptive materials accompanying the historical eruptions.
4.3 Precursors
Although the eruption record of the Kameni islands is well known, the record of anything that may have happened in between eruptions is almost non-existent. We know of precursors, or pre-eruption changes, for several eruptions (see Box 1), but apart from a mention of an earthquake swarm a few years prior to the 1707 eruption, there are no known reports or records of any sort of unrest that wasn’t subsequently followed by an eruption. This lack of evidence for ‘precursory behaviour that didn’t culminate in an eruption’ (non-eruptive unrest) is likely to be a common feature of many volcanic systems (Moran et al. 2011)—and likely to explain the poor correlation between ‘run up’ and eruption scale that is evident in the most recent analysis of these sorts of datasets (e.g. Passarelli and Brodsky 2012).
The lack of documented non-eruptive unrest and the volcanological model for ‘the next eruption’ was brought into sharp relief in 2011, with the start of the first modern volcano-seismic crisis on Santorini since the eruption of 1950. In January 2011, the first small earthquakes located within the caldera were detected by the local seismic network. This was clearly anomalous, since most of the detected seismicity in the region since systematic measurements began in the late 1980s has been associated with structures outside the caldera, most notably the submarine Kolombos volcano (Dimitriadis et al. 2005; Nomikou et al. 2012).
The event was readily identifiable as a period of volcano-seismic unrest, due to localisation of shallow earthquakes along a well-known fault system thought to have been responsible for the delivery of magma to the surface during previous eruptions; and from the patterns of uplift and ground deformation detected from the network of continuous GPS instruments and analysis of satellite radar interferograms (e.g. Newman et al. 2012; Parks et al. 2012). Later, field evidence also showed changes in the nature of the diffuse degassing around the summit craters. In early 2012, the authorities convened a Special Scientific Committee for the Monitoring of Santorini Volcano, and oversaw the deployment of a host of new instruments across and around Santorini, but fairly soon the unrest came to an end and nothing further happened (Aspinall and Woo 2014). No formal notice of the unrest was declared by the authorities until the event was effectively over (see Vougioukalakis et al. 2016), and although there are now a dozen or more scientific papers describing these events, there was no eruption and there is no record of the event in the Smithsonian Institution’s Global Volcano Programme dataset or associated reports.
Best estimates of the scale of the magmatic anomaly associated with the 2011–2012 unrest suggest that the shallow magmatic pressure source increased in volume by ca. 14–23 million cubic metres (Parks et al. 2015); equivalent to a couple of decade’s worth of ‘steady state magma accumulation’. This presents a challenge to the previous consensus model for the volcano: here was evidence for a large, shallow intrusion which did not lead to eruption. Whether this is the typical behaviour of the system, or not, is something that cannot yet be determined—because although the rich documentary record of past events furnishes us with the evidence for how the next eruption might proceed, it provides us with no information, one way or the other, about the frequency and style of episodes of unrest. However, the episode of unrest has stimulated new work on conceptual physical models for repeated eruptions driven by pressurisation and failure of the shallow magma reservoir by intrusion (e.g. Browning et al. 2015; Degruyter et al. 2016), and stimulated retrospective analysis of bathymetric maps, that chart the ups and downs of the volcano since the 1850s (Watts et al. 2015). The unrest has also opened up a public discussion of how the scientific community, civil defence and local authorities should plan for a future crisis; including how to manage hazards, risk and communications (Vougioukalakis et al. 2016).
4.4 The Soufrière, St. Vincent
The Soufrière, St. Vincent, is another example of a lava-dome forming volcano in a subduction-zone setting. In contrast to the Kameni islands, recent and historical eruptions of St. Vincent have been of a more mafic magma (basaltic andesite, rather than dacite), and eruptions have tended to be significantly more explosive than those of the Kameni islands, with much more serious consequences (Fig. 1; Table 2). Below, we briefly introduce the chronology of the St. Vincent eruptions, and their broader consequences, before discussing the challenges for the future.
Table 2 Historical activity of the Soufrière, St. Vincent
4.5 Eruptive History and Impacts
St. Vincent lies in the eastern Caribbean, and is one of the southern islands of the Lesser Antilles Arc. The eruptive history of the presently active volcano—the Soufrière, a complex of craters at the top of the Morne Garou—is not well known prior to about 1700. Since then, St. Vincent has experienced four major explosive eruptions, and at least one minor dome-forming eruption (Fig. 1; Table 2; Robertson 1995). Eruptions in 1718, 1812 and 1902–3 each had major consequences for the northern sectors of the island—with widespread tephra fallout, explosive ejection of ballistic blocks, column-collapse pyroclastic density-currents, and lahars deposited across or coursing down the flanks of the volcano. Each of these explosive eruptions led to significant ash fallout across other islands of the Caribbean; notably Barbados.
The eruptions of 1812 (at least 56 fatalities; Robertson 1995) and 1902–3 (1600 fatalities) were severe, with much damage to properties, many associated with the sugar plantations in the northern parts of the island; and deaths in the communities which provided labour for those plantations (Anderson and Flett 1903; Smith 2011; Pyle et al. 2017). The details of the social and economic consequences of these eruptions can be reconstructed in an extraordinarily fine-grained way, principally because of the preservation of official correspondence and reports from the time in colonial archives (Gullick 1985; Smith 2011; Richardson 1997; Pyle et al. 2017).
There are no known reports, however, of the consequences of the explosive eruption of 1718 for the inhabitants of St. Vincent. The only written record of the eruption was gathered from the descriptions of European mariners, and published anonymously in a pamphlet that declared ‘the entire desolation of the island of St. Vincent’, and that ‘the island was no more’ (Box 2; Defoe 1718). This account was not mentioned by Shepherd (1831) in his history of St. Vincent, even though by that time the 1718 eruption would have been well known to natural historians from the works of de Humboldt and Bonpland (1825).
Box 2: The 1718 eruption of St. Vincent
Daniel Defoe ‘The destruction of St. Vincent’ from Mist’s Journal, July 5, 1718.
‘On the 27th [March] in the morning the air was darkened in a dreadful manner; which darkness by all accounts seems to have extended over all the colonies and the islands which were within 100 miles of the place […] The sum of [reports from ships] ‘they saw in the night that terrible flash of fire and after that innumerable clashes of thunder […] a thousand times as loud a thunder or cannon. As the day came on, still the darkness increased.
In the afternoon they were surprised with the falling upon them as thick as smoke, but fine as dust and yet solid as sand; this fell thicker and faster as they were nearer or farther off—some ships had it nine inchers, others a foot thick, upon their decks. The island of Martinico is covered with it at about seven to nine inches thick; at Barbadoes it is frightful, even St. Christopher’s is exceeded four inches’.’
The eruption of April–May 1812 and its consequences were recorded in detail in a range of primary contemporary sources (letters and diaries) and published reports and accounts (see Smith 2011, for a detailed analysis). The diaries and reports of a British barrister and plantation owner, Hugh Perry Keane (Box 3) are thought to also have provided the materials for The Times leader story on the eruption, published six weeks later in late June (Smith 2011). Keane’s sketches of the eruption were later used by JMW Turner to inform his 1815 painting of the volcano in eruption. One notable feature of this eruption is the contrast between the published accounts that stress the ‘dreadful’ scale of the eruption, and the apparent light loss of life (Smith 2011). Estate owner Alexander Cruikshank wrote that ‘there has [not] been so violent an Eruption recorded since the destruction of Herculaneum and Pompeii’ (Blue Book 1813, p. 4), and a committee of landowners petitioned the Crown for compensation, on the basis that these ‘distressed Memorialists [had suffered a] severe visitation of Divine Providence… unexampled in any of His Majesty’s dominions for much more than a century’ (Blue Book 1813, p. 9). These accounts were presumably motivated by a desire for financial recompense, and stress the physical impacts of the eruption on their crops, estate lands and property. In contrast, the same reports are very thin on the consequences of the eruption either for their enslaved workers (one sugar estate owner appended the brief statement ‘but most providentially not many lives were lost’; Blue Book 1813, p. 4), or for the island’s native residents. Reports suggest that many people from the Carib communities who lived around the flanks of the volcano evacuated spontaneously within a couple of days of the eruption starting, but before the eruption reached a climax (Blue Book 1813; Smith 2011). It is not known whether this reflected a response based on oral histories of prior eruptions; or that the effects of the tremor and tephra fallout had become intolerable.
Box 3: The 1812 eruption of St. Vincent
Excerpts from the diary of Hugh Perry Keane [Virginia Historical Society mss1 k197 a23], transcribed in Smith (2011), Hamilton (2012) and Pyle (2017).
Weds 29 [April] Then to see the Souffrier, involved in dark clouds and vomiting black sands. Landed at Wallilabou. Spent the evening in contemplation of the volcano, and slept there.
Thurs 30th in the afternoon the rousing of the Mountain increased and at 7 o’clock the flames burst forth and the dreadful eruption began. All night watching it between 2 and 5 o’clock in the morning showers of stones and earthquakes threatened our immediate destruction.
May 1 The day did not give light till nearly 9—the whole island involved in gloom. The mountain was quiet all night.
May 2 Rose at 7, Drawing up my narrative for the register.
Sun 3rd Rose at 7 and after gathering some Bfast… Proceeded to Wallibu—strange and dismal sight, the river dried up and the land covered with cinders and sulphur. Morne Ronde Hid in smoke and ashes—the track covered with trees and a new formation given to it—burnt carcasses of cattle lying everywhere.
Mon: 4 rose at 6 and took a cup of coffee… and returned to town. Kingston in great confusion.
Wed 6 the volcano again blazed away from 7 till 1/2 past 8.
The catastrophic eruptions of 1902–3, in which about 1600 people were killed, left dense records of official and other communications during both the immediate crisis, and the relief and recovery efforts (Blue Book 1903, 1904; Anderson and Flett 1903). Eyewitness accounts of the build up to the eruption again suggest that significant numbers of people from communities living on the flanks of the volcano evacuated spontaneously during the 24 h before it reached a climax (Pyle et al. 2017). Indeed, by the time the scale of the eruption became apparent to colonial officials in Kingstown, telephone lines to the north of the island had already been interrupted and submarine telegraph lines from St. Vincent to the neighbouring island of St. Lucia had been severed (Report of Edward Cameron, Administrator; Blue Book 1903). A combination of the infrastructure of the Colonial Government; the relative ease of international communication (telegrams) and the coincidence of the devastating eruption of Mont Pelée, Martinique, just one day after the eruption of the Soufrière of St. Vincent meant that these two volcanic disasters in the Caribbean attracted world-wide interest at the time, and a rapid international relief effort (Pyle et al. 2017). Scientists and journalists arrived with some of the relief boats, and dramatic reports of the aftermath of the eruption were soon widely available (e.g. Russell 1902; Morris 1903; Anderson 1903; Hovey 1903a, b). Since that time, though, little of this material has been re-considered by volcanologists; and a full analysis of both the entire eruption sequence, and the recovery process has yet to be completed.
In between these eruptions, each of which were preceded by many months of felt seismicity in areas close to the volcano, there may well have been other small to moderate eruptions which were non-explosive, and which produced few noticeable consequences—whether in terms of detectable seismicity, or other manifestations. There has been speculation that an eruption in 1784 formed a lava dome which was subsequently described after the first known ascent by a European in late 1784. Anderson, who was then keeper of the newly established Botanic Station on St. Vincent, describes the nature of the crater in detail, along with a sketch map of the summit area (Fig. 3). This can readily be interpreted as a lava dome with actively degassing fumaroles—not greatly different from the current status of the dome, which extruded in 1979.
During the ‘modern era’ there were two eruptions of St. Vincent, both of which were closely observed and documented. In 1971–1972 a ‘quiet’ effusive eruption led to the emplacement of a lava dome within the summit crater-lake. This was followed, just 8 years later, by a short but violent series of explosive eruptions (from April 13–26, 1979), followed by six months of the emplacement of a lava dome (Aspinall et al. 1973; Shepherd et al. 1979; Shepherd and Sigurdsson 1982; Huppert et al. 1982).
4.6 Challenges for the Future
In the context of anticipating future events, the detailed records of these past eruptions and their timelines (Fig. 4), would certainly inform the development of future eruption scenarios. But our understanding of the nature of any precursors is, as with the case of Santorini, rather limited, with just the two most recent eruptions having any instrumental monitoring record—the first of which made barely a trace in terms of detectable precursory seismicity (Aspinall et al. 1973).
Each of the last four explosive eruptions were preceded by felt earthquakes in the north of the island; each of the eruptions for which the crater was flooded also showed short-timescale changes in the nature of the lake waters. There are no quantitative data on the nature of any pre-eruption gas emissions, since the most recent eruptions in 1979 occurred only just in time for the satellite monitoring era (Carn et al. 2016), and before the widespread adoption of volcanic gas measurement technologies. Nonetheless, there have been local crises on St. Vincent triggered by the appearance of sulfurous odors and haze. The most recent of these events occurred in mid-February 2005, and was detected both on the island of St. Vincent and on the Grenadines (50–75 km S). In the event, Seismic Research Unit scientists and the Soufrière Monitoring Unit determined that the cause of the event was purely meteorological in origin: the typical winds in the area take the fumarole emissions out to sea, and this event was ascribed to an unusual wind field (Weekly Report, Smithsonian Global Volcanism Project, March 2005).