File:Maug Island - as seen from Navy P-3 cockpit on SAR mission - 1988.jpg

In early 1988, as part of a Familiarization / Search and Rescue Flight our P-3 crew launched from Guam and proceeded all the way up the Northern Marianas Island chain, circling each island, in turn, looking for possible stranded fishermen or sailors, alert for any possible emergency needs they might have.

We scouted the southerly inhabited islands of Rota, Tinian, and Saipan first and then proceeded out over the ocean towards the abandoned Northern Mariana Islands. Our job was to locate, report and assist any shipwrecked sailors or stranded natives on these outer islands, dropping emergency supplies, while coordinating a rescue ship if needed.

A few of the larger islands had native inhabitants in tiny groups stubbornly clinging to their heritage and hiding out from the authorities. Most islands stood defiantly empty of humanity... too small, too hostile, or too distant for gainful commerce. Yet, what was bad for men was perfect for nature. Huge flocks of migrating seabirds, and an abundance of lizards, insects, and plant life coated each island sanctuary in color, movement, and energy. An interesting side note for us as a crew was that where we were flying, of the 14 Northern Mariana Islands, 12 had active volcanoes, any one of which could unpredictably erupt beneath us!

As we traveled further north into ever more remote stretches of the Pacific Ocean, we flew hours without seeing a village, ship, or airplane. We were suspended just above the deepest of ocean deeps, in a featureless pale blue sky over which floated a solitary burning sun. There was little sense of motion in the smooth air and the cockpit became silent as we soaked in the raw, vast emptiness. I was silently grateful for the four Alison T-56 turbines purring away on either side of me. By late afternoon, we had searched 10 islands and the ocean between, seeing nothing but a few goats.

Then abruptly from the sea haze, an image focused itself and out floated Maug Island. Maug Island is 323 miles north of the nearest inhabited island of Saipan and is just a short distance south of the northernmost island in the Marianas chain - Farallon De Pajaros also known today as Uracas. The island is roughly 3,000 miles from Hawaii and 6,000 miles from the US West Coast. So it’s a trip I’m pretty sure I’ll never get to make again.

Maug Island is perched on the western edge of the Marianas Trench, the deepest spot in all of Earth’s oceans. It was different than the smoking cones we had been circling all day. This ancient island is a mortally wounded volcano. It was at one time a mighty cone that had risen smoking and belching fire, only to fall back spent within its emptied body. Only Maug’s shoulders remain above the waves.

Here uncounted thousands of nesting seabirds, undisturbed and ignorant of mankind, live in happy isolation. We circled, quarantined within our aircraft, completely insulated from the moist sea breezes, and the pungent smells of guano-coated cliffs. We were deaf to the songs of countless exotic feathered acrobats echoing within the eroded caldera. Fortunately, we could still see.

We could see a healthy, vibrant ecosystem filled with birds of every hue. It was like circling Soldier Field in Chicago during a Bears game. The caldera was very close to stadium size and shape, and since it was obviously half-time, we decided to do the customary fly-over, and did! This was followed by a few more outside low-level laps in different directions.

Just to be thorough, we made a quick dash between the island cliffs into the caldera itself and popped out at the other end, far beneath the cliff-side seats of our delighted avian spectators. We made one last circuit of our new SAR volcano qual, skimmed by a lone Japanese fishing boat, and climbed back on course to Farallon de Pajaros. That was the first and only volcano I have ever flown through, but if there had been a stranded fisherman within the walls of Maug, I have no doubt we would have spotted him!

Our flight took place in 1988 when Maug was barely on anyone’s map. In April 2004, The Scripps-Hilton Expedition took samples of volcanic gas and rocks tossed from previous eruptions as part of month-long study of the entire island chain.

Ten years later in 2014, NOAA sponsored an expedition to study the underwater caldera in the center of the island. The floor of the caldera literally bubbles with volcanic gasses, with large amounts of carbon dioxide and nitrogen. Divers say it is like swimming through a glass of champagne. There are also hot underwater springs laced with arsenic and iron.

What makes Maug Island important to researchers is the effect all these volcanic activities have on the coral living within the caldera. By measuring the health of the coral at varying distances from the most active carbon dioxide outgassing fumaroles, they are able to predict how our civilization's carbon footprint will affect the health of our oceans in the future.

Maug Island is a natural coral laboratory for predicting the effects of human pollution. If you enjoy pictures of a very special place and enjoy a bit of science, you might enjoy this video of the 2014 NOAA Expedition to Maug Island.