Hawai’i, the Big Island, like all the other islands in the 50th State of the US, has been formed by volcanic activity and is the youngest of all the islands. It sits over a hot spot in the Earth’s crust, resulting in two of the world’s most active volcanoes, Mauna Loa and Kilauea. Visiting Volcanoes gives you the opportunity to get up and close to a volcano and learn more about the science of volcanology and its role in the creation of these islands.
USA – Hawai‘i: Volcano National Park
🌋 Fire, Fury and Fresh Land: Getting to Grips with the Big Island
Hawai’i — the Big Island, as everyone calls it to avoid the deeply confusing situation of having an island and a state sharing the same name — is, geologically speaking, a youngster. The newest of all the Hawaiian islands, it’s still very much a work in progress. The geological equivalent of a building site, except instead of a bloke in a hard hat drinking tea and staring at a hole, you’ve got molten rock at the temperature of a small sun doing the same job, only rather more dramatically.
The reason comes down to something called a hot spot — a fixed plume of superheated magma sitting deep in the Earth’s mantle, quite unmoved by the tectonic plate drifting over the top of it. Think of it as holding a blowtorch steady under a slowly moving piece of paper. Each Hawaiian island was, in its time, directly above this hot spot, got thoroughly cooked, was shoved along by the Pacific Plate, and eventually went quiet. The Big Island is the one currently sitting above the flame. Lucky it.
This has given the island two of the most active volcanoes on the planet — Mauna Loa and Kīlauea — both sitting within Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park, established in 1916, when someone apparently decided that actively exploding mountains were just the sort of place the public might enjoy visiting.
Mauna Loa is the largest volcano on Earth. Measured from the seafloor rather than sea level, it rises around 9,000 metres — which puts it comfortably ahead of anything the Himalayas have to offer. Everest can keep its bragging rights, but only because we’ve all agreed to measure from sea level. The kind of technicality that would start an argument in any pub worth its salt.
Then there’s Kīlauea, which hasn’t really stopped erupting since 1983. Over forty years of continuous volcanic activity, which puts my on-again off-again attempts at DIY into some perspective. In 2018, a particularly dramatic eruption destroyed over 700 homes and added roughly 3.5 square kilometres of brand new land to the island’s southeastern coast. New land. Just created. While people were watching.
That’s the truly remarkable thing. The island is still growing. Lava flows reach the coast and pour into the Pacific, where molten rock at around 1,100 degrees Celsius hits seawater with predictably violent results — steam, shattering, hardening, and new coastline forming in front of your eyes. The process also produces something called laze: a toxic mix of hydrochloric acid and tiny glass particles that drifts downwind and is, as you might imagine, not something you want to spend much time breathing.
The park landscape is extraordinary — black, grey and rust-red, cracked and frozen mid-ripple, scattered with steam vents and sulphur deposits. It smells, not unreasonably, of eggs that have had a very bad time. Walking across a cooled lava field, you become acutely aware that under your feet the whole business is still going on. This is not ancient history. This is happening now.
What the Big Island offers, if you can tear yourself away from the beaches, is a glimpse of the Earth doing what it has always done — pulling itself apart and putting itself back together, entirely indifferent to the inconvenience this causes. You can stand at the edge of an active caldera watching steam rise from fresh cracks in the ground, then drive twenty minutes to a black sand beach where the same lava met the same sea and lost.
🌋 Kīlauea Visitor Centre — Your First Stop Before the Earth Tries to Kill You
If you’re planning to explore Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park — and you absolutely should, because it’s one of the most extraordinary places on the planet — then the sensible place to begin is the Kīlauea Visitor Centre. And yes, I know “visitor centre” sounds about as thrilling as a trip to the council offices in Slough, but bear with me, because this one is actually worth your time.
The centre sits right on Crater Rim Drive, perched on the edge of Kīlauea caldera, and it’s the obvious place to get yourself properly oriented before heading out into what is, let’s be honest, a fairly unusual landscape. Free maps, current condition updates, and staff who actually know what they’re talking about — it’s a good start.
Inside, there’s a well-put-together collection of exhibits explaining the geology and cultural history of the area in plain enough terms that even those of us who scraped a C in O-level Geography can follow along. The gift shop is there too, doing brisk business in lava-themed everything, should you need a refrigerator magnet shaped like a volcano.
Do pay attention to the Park Ranger programmes listed at the centre. These are genuinely worthwhile — the rangers know their stuff, they’re enthusiastic without being insufferable, and they can take you to spots and explain things in ways that the signage simply can’t. The centre is also where you’ll find out about any closures within the park due to volcanic activity, which is not something most national parks have to worry about quite so urgently.
The centre opens at 9am daily, which gives you a reasonable head start on the day. And on that note — one practical point I cannot stress enough: get there before 10 in the morning. The car park fills up with a speed that suggests everyone in Hawaii simultaneously decided to have the same idea as you. Arrive late and you’ll be doing that slow, humiliating circuit of the car park that we all know too well, wondering whether you can justify parking on a grass verge without the hire car company noticing. You can’t, and they will.
Get there early, get your bearings, talk to a ranger, and then head out into one of the most genuinely remarkable landscapes you’re ever likely to see. Even a grumpy Englishman has to admit it’s rather spectacular.
🌋 Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park — A Daytime Visit
We’d been told the Big Island was something special. And it is. But nobody thought to mention that “special” sometimes comes wrapped in a thick blanket of grey cloud and a persistent, damp drizzle that seems personally offended by your existence.
The windward sides of the Hawaiian Islands have always had a reputation for unpredictable weather. The trade winds blow in off the Pacific, hit the volcanic slopes, rise, cool, and promptly deposit themselves on whoever happens to be standing below. This has been going on for millions of years. It didn’t make an exception for us. We arrived to find low cloud wrapped around the park like a damp duvet. Not ideal.
The sensible thing — the only thing, really — was to retreat into the visitor centre, which we did with considerable dignity and only a small amount of muttering. The Kīlauea Visitor Center is actually rather good. There’s a decent film about the volcanoes and the extraordinary natural environment of the park: the lava tubes, the endemic species found nowhere else on Earth, the slow, relentless business of an island being built from the inside out over millions of years. It was genuinely fascinating, and I’d probably have enjoyed it more if I hadn’t kept glancing out the window hoping the clouds had done the decent thing and moved on.
They hadn’t.
Still, in between the showers, we pulled on our jackets and braved a walk out onto the crater rim of Kīlauea. The crater itself — the Halemaʻumaʻu Crater — sits within the larger Kīlauea Caldera, which is roughly three miles across and two miles wide. On a clear day, the views are apparently extraordinary. On our day, we had mist. Lots of mist. The kind of mist that makes everything look equally grey and featureless, like a very large car park.
What you could see, though — and this was genuinely impressive — were the gases. Great billowing plumes of volcanic emissions rising from the vents in the crater below, disappearing up into the cloud. Kīlauea is very much alive. It doesn’t let you forget it. Kīlauea’s 2018 eruption destroyed over 700 homes in the Leilani Estates neighbourhood and reshaped the entire lower East Rift Zone. This is not a volcano that messes about.
There are scenic trails along the crater rim and on a better day they apparently offer spectacular views across the caldera. We managed some of it. The views were not, to put it diplomatically, brilliant. But we walked, because that’s what you do, and because standing in the car park felt faintly defeatist.
We pressed on to the steam vents. These line the crater rim road and are exactly what they sound like: cracks in the ground where rainwater seeps down, hits the hot volcanic rock far below, and comes back up as steam. On a cold, damp day there’s something oddly comforting about standing over a vent and letting a cloud of warm steam envelope you. Or perhaps that’s just what hypothermia feels like in the early stages. Either way, we lingered.
And then we smelt the sulphur banks before we saw them.
There’s a particular moment — and if you’ve been to the sulphur banks at Kīlauea you’ll know exactly what I mean — when the breeze shifts and your nose receives a message that your brain takes a moment to process. Rotten eggs. Specifically, hydrogen sulphide: H₂S, the gas that gives volcanic emissions their distinctive and deeply unpleasant character. It arrived ahead of us like an olfactory advance party.
The sulphur banks are one of the few places along the Kīlauea rim where the vents emit hydrogen sulphide rather than the more usual sulphur dioxide. The result is a bizarre and rather beautiful landscape of bright yellow mineral deposits crusted around the vents, the sulphur crystallising as the gases cool in contact with the air. The yellow is extraordinarily vivid against the grey rock and grey sky — the sort of colour that looks like it’s been added in post-production.
We stood there for a while, breathing through our mouths, taking photographs, and contemplating the fact that this entire landscape — the island, the park, the lava fields stretching to the coast — was made by exactly the process happening in front of us, just very slowly and over an almost incomprehensible span of time.
The clouds didn’t lift. The drizzle didn’t stop. But it didn’t really matter. There’s something about Kīlauea — wet, gas-emitting, wreathed in mist — that gets under your skin regardless. Pele, it seems, doesn’t particularly care whether the weather suits your visit.
Fair enough, really. It’s her volcano.
🌋 Watching Lava Flow into the Sea — After Dark
I’m not a man who gets easily impressed. I’ve seen mountains, glaciers, the M25 at rush hour — all of nature’s great spectacles. But what we witnessed on the Big Island of Hawaii one evening was, and I don’t say this lightly, genuinely jaw-dropping. And I’m a 60-year-old Englishman, so jaw-dropping for me usually means someone’s made a decent cup of tea.
Let me give you a bit of background, because this isn’t just “ooh, look at some hot rocks.”
Kīlauea, one of the most active volcanoes on Earth, has been erupting more or less continuously since January 1983 — which, for perspective, is the same year Thatcher won her second general election. So while Britain was going through a rough patch, Hawaii was quietly busy reshaping itself. The eruption originated from a vent called Pu’u ‘Ō’ō on the East Rift Zone, and over the decades it consumed everything in its path with the unhurried indifference that only molten rock can manage. Entire communities were swallowed. The town of Kalapana was largely buried in 1990 and 1991. The lava didn’t hurry. It just crept forward, year after year, and there wasn’t much anyone could do about it except relocate.
By the time we visited, the lava had reached the sea along the southern coastline, pouring off the cliffs and building new land in real time as molten rock hits cold Pacific water and solidifies. The active zone sits just outside Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park — only about fifteen miles from where we were staying, which meant there was really no excuse not to go.
Locals and rangers are quite emphatic that night is the only time worth bothering. During the day you get steam and a faint glow. At night, you get the full theatrical performance — rivers of red lava against a black sky, plumes of steam glowing orange, the whole coastline looking like a disaster film. We are British and therefore constitutionally unable to pass up a good free spectacle.
We arrived to find the car parks essentially full, so ended up parking along the road — turning our “half-mile stroll” into closer to two miles each way, with a rough lava-field crossing thrown in at the end as a sort of bonus obstacle course. Brilliant. The crossing itself was jagged, uneven, ankle-threatening volcanic rock in the dark with only torches (or “flashlights” as our American friends insist — I’ve given up arguing). I’m not especially agile at the best of times, but somehow remained upright throughout, which I considered a personal triumph.
Even before reaching the viewing point, the views were extraordinary. Looking down the old coastal highway — blocked since 1990 and never reopened — the road surface itself was on fire. Further up the hillside, snaking red lines of lava moved with slow, relentless purpose towards the sea.
When we finally reached the sea cliffs, all the effort became completely irrelevant.
Several rivers of lava trailed down the hillside and poured over the cliff edge into the Pacific below. The lava was an intense, luminous red-orange — almost electric-looking against the night sky. Where it hit the sea, enormous plumes of steam billowed upward, glowing in the lava light. Occasionally, where lava pooled at the cliff edge, sharp little explosions sent globules of molten rock arcing into the air like a very enthusiastic fireworks display.
We stood there for a long time, which is not something I typically do. I get bored easily, I get cold, I start thinking about tea. But this held our attention completely.
Jack, however, was not entirely satisfied. He’d hoped to stand right next to flowing lava. I explained that this would almost certainly have ended with us on the news for the wrong reasons. None of this improved his mood significantly. Boys.
For the rest of us though — the walk, the dark, the heat of the earth on your face, watching the island actually grow in real time — it was absolutely everything.
Planning your visit to Volcanoes National Park
🌋 Overview
Hawaiʻi Volcanoes National Park is one of the most extraordinary natural destinations on Earth, offering visitors a rare chance to witness active volcanism up close. Established in 1916 and designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site, the park spans more than 335,000 acres on the Big Island of Hawaiʻi, rising from sea level to over 13,000 feet in elevation. Within its boundaries lie two of the world’s most remarkable volcanoes: Kīlauea, one of the most persistently active volcanoes on the planet, and Mauna Loa, the largest active subaerial volcano in the world. The park encompasses six of Earth’s climate zones, moving from tropical coastline through dense rainforest, barren lava fields, and alpine tundra — an astonishing range of landscapes concentrated in one place.
📍 Location
The park is situated on the south-east side of Hawaiʻi Island (commonly known as the Big Island), roughly 30 miles south-west of Hilo and approximately 96 miles south-east of Kailua-Kona via Highway 11.
Physical address: 1 Crater Rim Drive, Hawaii National Park, HI 96718, USA
Mailing address: P.O. Box 52, Hawaii National Park, HI 96718-0052, USA
🌐 Website
The official park website is managed by the National Park Service and provides up-to-date information on eruption activity, trail conditions, closures, and ranger-led programmes: www.nps.gov/havo
📞 Contact
Telephone (Visitor Information): (808) 985-6011 Available daily from 9:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. Hawaiʻi Standard Time.
Fax: (808) 985-6004
Lost and Found: (808) 985-6157
Email: Visitor enquiries can be submitted via the online contact form on the park’s official website. Separate contacts are available for backcountry hiking and permit information.
Park headquarters are located at the Kīlauea Visitor Centre.
🕘 Opening Hours
The park is open 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. However, visitor facilities operate on more limited hours:
Kīlauea Visitor Centre: Open daily, 9:00 a.m. – 5:00 p.m.
Some roads, trails, and viewpoints may be subject to temporary closures due to volcanic activity or ongoing construction works. Visitors are strongly advised to check the park website for current conditions and any alerts before travelling.
💵 Entry Fees
All visitors are required to pay an entrance fee. The park does not accept cash — payment must be made by credit or debit card, either at the entrance station or in advance online via Recreation.gov.
Private vehicle (up to 14 passengers): $30.00 — valid for 7 days
Motorcycle (up to 2 bikes, 4 passengers total): $25.00 — valid for 7 days
Individual on foot or bicycle (aged 16+): $15.00 — valid for 7 days
Children aged 15 and under: Free entry — no pass required
Hawaiʻi Tri-Park Annual Pass: $55.00 — covers Hawaiʻi Volcanoes National Park, Haleakalā National Park, and Puʻuhonua o Hōnaunau National Historical Park for 12 months from the date of purchase. Available to US citizens and residents.
America the Beautiful — National Parks and Federal Recreational Lands Pass: Prices range from free to $250.00 depending on eligibility. This pass covers entrance fees at thousands of federal recreation sites across the United States, including all national parks. Non-US residents may purchase the Non-Resident Annual Pass for $250.00. Senior, military, disability, and volunteer passes are available at reduced cost or free of charge to eligible holders.
Commercial tour operators are charged separately based on vehicle capacity, and accredited schools visiting for curriculum-based programmes may be eligible for a fee waiver.
Several free entry days are offered throughout the year for US citizens and residents — check the park website for current-year dates.
🥾 What to See and Do
The park rewards both short-stay visitors and those who spend several days exploring its varied terrain. Key highlights include:
Kīlauea Caldera and Halemaʻumaʻu Crater — The dramatic summit caldera of Kīlauea is the centrepiece of the park, with the Halemaʻumaʻu Crater at its heart. This persistently active pit has a long history of lava lake eruptions, and on clear evenings a vivid red glow can be seen rising from the crater. Visitors should note that construction works are currently under way near the summit, and some areas may be affected by closures or delays.
Crater Rim Drive — A scenic road circling the summit caldera with multiple viewpoints, including Kūkamāhuākea Steam Vents, where groundwater meets volcanic heat and rises dramatically as mist from the ground.
Chain of Craters Road — This spectacular route descends more than 3,600 feet from the summit to the coastline, passing pit craters, ancient lava flows, and petroglyph fields before reaching the ocean. Notable stops include Pauahi Crater, Kealakomo Overlook, and the striking Hōlei Sea Arch.
Kīlauea Iki Trail — One of the park’s most popular hikes, this four-mile loop descends into Kīlauea Iki crater, crossing the solidified lava lake floor formed during a dramatic eruption in 1959. The contrast between the barren crater floor and the surrounding tree-fern forest is remarkable.
Nāhuku (Thurston Lava Tube) — An easily accessible and well-lit lava tube located near the Kīlauea Iki car park. A short walk through a lush fern forest leads to this impressive natural tunnel formed by ancient lava flows. The tube is illuminated during daytime hours; between 8:00 p.m. and 8:00 a.m. it remains open but unlit, offering a unique experience for those prepared with a torch.
Puʻuloa Petroglyphs — Located along the Chain of Craters Road, this significant cultural site contains one of the largest collections of Hawaiian lava etchings in the islands, with thousands of images carved into hardened lava by Native Hawaiian ancestors.
Mauna Loa Road — A quieter road leading to the Kīpukapuaulu Bird Sanctuary and, for those prepared for a serious undertaking, the trailhead for the multi-day summit climb of Mauna Loa at 6,667 feet.
Kahuku Unit — Located approximately one hour’s drive south of the main entrance, this separate section of the park offers walking trails, volcanic landscapes, and a glimpse into the area’s ranching heritage, with far fewer crowds than the main summit area.
Best time to visit Hawai’i (The Big Island)
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🌺 Best Time to Visit Hawai’i Big Island by Season
The Big Island of Hawai’i is a year-round destination, but each season brings its own character — from whale-watching in winter to festival season in autumn. Understanding the rhythms of the island helps you plan smarter, pack better, and get the most from this extraordinary place.
☀️ Summer (June–August)
Summer is peak season on the Big Island, and for good reason. Trade winds keep temperatures pleasant along the coasts, hovering around 27–30°C, while the leeward (western) side — home to the Kohala Coast resorts and Kona — enjoys reliably dry, sunny skies. The windward (eastern) side, including Hilo, stays lush and occasionally showery. Ocean conditions are generally calm, making this the finest window for snorkelling, diving, and paddleboarding. Manta ray night dives off Kona are spectacular at this time of year. The Merrie Monarch Festival ripples of local culture extend into summer events, and the island bustles with domestic visitors and families on school holiday. Expect higher accommodation prices and book well in advance, particularly for popular spots around Waikoloa and Kawaihae.
What to pack: Lightweight, breathable clothing (linen or moisture-wicking fabrics), a quality reef-safe sunscreen (SPF 50+), a wide-brimmed sun hat, polarised sunglasses, water shoes for lava shorelines, a light rain layer for Hilo or Volcano visits, and a swimsuit or two. Bring a rash vest if you plan to spend long hours snorkelling.
🌧️ Autumn (September–November)
Autumn is one of the most rewarding — and underrated — times to visit. Crowds thin after the summer rush, prices drop noticeably, and the weather remains warm and largely settled through September and into October. November marks the start of the wetter season, particularly on the windward side, though the leeward Kohala and Kona coasts stay relatively dry. The Ironman World Championship triathlon descends on Kailua-Kona each October, which is thrilling to witness but means accommodation in the Kona area books out months ahead. Autumn is also an excellent time for hiking — Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park is less crowded, and the light is softer and more forgiving for photography.
What to pack: All the summer essentials apply, but add a lightweight waterproof jacket as afternoon showers become more frequent. Comfortable closed-toe hiking boots are worth bringing if you plan to explore the lava fields or Kīlauea summit trails. An N95 mask or vog mask is advisable if volcanic activity is elevated (check USGS Volcano Observatory updates before travelling).
🐋 Winter (December–February)
Winter is arguably the most dramatic season on the Big Island. Humpback whales migrate to Hawaiian waters from Alaska, and sightings from shore or on a whale-watching boat are almost guaranteed from December through March. The North and East shores can see heavy surf and significant rainfall, while Kona remains mild (around 24–26°C). Higher elevations — including Mauna Kea (4,205 m) and Mauna Loa — can receive snow, creating the remarkable spectacle of skiing and surfing on the same island in the same day. It’s also the quieter shoulder between Christmas holiday crowds and spring break, making January and February particularly good value.
What to pack: A warm mid-layer (fleece or light down jacket) is essential if you plan to visit Mauna Kea for stargazing — temperatures at the summit can plummet to –10°C or below. Pack waterproofs for windward-side excursions, swimwear for the calmer Kohala coast, and layers that can be added or removed easily as you move between elevations. Binoculars are wonderful for whale watching.
🌺 Spring (March–May)
Spring sits in a sweet spot: fewer crowds than summer, comfortable temperatures, and the landscape at its most vivid after winter rains. The trade winds are reliable, keeping coastal areas breezy and fresh. Whale activity continues through March and into April before the humpbacks depart for Alaskan waters. Spring is one of the best seasons for wildflower blooms and birding in higher-elevation forests like those around Waimea and the Hakalau Forest National Wildlife Refuge. Easter and spring bank holidays bring a modest uptick in visitors, but nothing approaching summer levels.
What to pack: Much the same as summer, though evenings can feel cooler — a light cardigan or pullover is handy for al fresco dining. If you’re keen on birdwatching in upland forests, long trousers and insect repellent are advisable. Comfortable walking sandals work well for town exploring, while trail shoes are better for forest hikes.
📊 Season Summary Chart
| Season | Months | Avg. Temp (Coast) | Rainfall | Crowds | Prices | Highlights |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| ☀️ Summer | Jun–Aug | 27–30°C | Low (Kona) / Moderate (Hilo) | High | High | Snorkelling, diving, calm seas |
| 🌧️ Autumn | Sep–Nov | 25–28°C | Moderate–Rising | Low–Moderate | Moderate | Ironman, hiking, fewer crowds |
| 🐋 Winter | Dec–Feb | 24–26°C | High (windward) / Low (leeward) | Moderate | Moderate–High | Whale watching, Mauna Kea snow |
| 🌺 Spring | Mar–May | 25–28°C | Moderate | Low–Moderate | Moderate | Birding, wildflowers, whale departures |
🌟 Overall Best Time to Visit
If pressed to choose a single ideal window, April to early June emerges as the sweet spot for most travellers. The summer crowds have yet to arrive, prices are more reasonable, the trade winds are steady and cooling, humpback whales are still present through April, and the landscape across the island — from the black lava fields to the emerald uplands of Waimea — is at its most vivid. Ocean conditions are settling into their calmer summer patterns, making water activities increasingly accessible without the full peak-season premium. For those whose priority is whale watching, January and February edge ahead; for the best diving and snorkelling in flat seas, July through August is unbeatable. But for a balance of great weather, manageable crowds, good value, and the full range of the Big Island’s extraordinary experiences, late spring is simply hard to beat.
Where to stay near Volcanoes National Park
1. VOLCANO ECO RETREAT
Luxury Accommodation.
Located on the side of Kilauea Volcano, the Volcano Eco Retreat by Heart Core Hotels is set in Fern Acres, 14.9 miles from Hilo. Rooms at this vegan and vegetarian friendly hotel come equipped with private porches and WiFi.
Each room is equipped with a flat-screen TV. All units include a seating area where you can relax. For your comfort, you will find bathrobes and slippers. There are also beach chairs and umbrellas and a morning coffee service.
2. KILAUEA LODGE & RESTAURANT
3. KONA BEACH HOSTEL
Budget Accommodation
The hostel is located in the heart of downtown Kailua-Kona, steps from Ali`i drive and all the action Kona-Town has to offer including; Kailua Pier, numerous bars, restaurants, shops, farmers market, and numerous beaches. It is only 2.5 miles from the famous Magic Sands beach, directly across the street from Honl’s beach, and a 20 minutes drive from the world-famous snorkel, scuba, and hiking locations including Captain Cook trailhead & monument, 2 Step Bay, and Kealakekua Bay. There is snorkelling gear, boogie boards, coolers and beach chairs for rent at discounted rates for guests.
More to Explore
