Uncovering the Myths of Kilauea and Mauna Loa

Kīlauea’s summit, a place called Kaluapele, contains Halemaʻumaʻu — the crater Hawaiians have long understood as the home of Pelehonuamea (Pele of the red earth), the elemental force of creation that takes the form of red molten lava. For many Hawaiians, the volcano’s eruptions are not random geological events but expressions of Pele’s mood and creativity. This is not a metaphor or a quaint belief. It is a living framework for understanding one of the most active volcanoes on Earth — a framework that coexists, sometimes uneasily, with the seismographs and gas sensors the USGS maintains at the same site.

This article is for anyone who has seen a photo of glowing lava against a night sky and wondered what it means — really means — to the people whose ancestors have lived alongside these volcanoes for centuries. The myths of Kīlauea and Mauna Loa are not just stories about the past. They are active interpretations of a landscape that shifts, grows, and sometimes destroys. And they raise a question that has no single answer: how do you hold two ways of knowing — scientific and mythic — in the same frame?

The Pele tradition is not a single story but a family of narratives that vary by region, family lineage, and generation. What follows is a synthesis of the most widely shared elements.

The Journey of Pelehonuamea — Volcano Goddess as Creator

Pele was born in Kahiki, a place often identified with Tahiti or a broader ancestral homeland. She was not alone — her family included a sister, Nāmakaokahaʻi, the goddess of the sea. Their conflict, described in some accounts as a clash of elemental forces, forced Pele to flee across the Pacific in a canoe carrying the sacred ʻŌhiʻa tree. Along her journey, she created craters and volcanic landscapes wherever she landed. The spirit of Pele eventually found its final resting place in Halemaʻumaʻu Crater at Kīlauea’s summit, according to the USGS account of Hawaiian tradition.

This is not a creation myth in the sense of explaining the origin of the world. It is a migration story — a narrative that maps the geography of the Hawaiian Islands through the movement of a divine figure. The ʻŌhiʻa tree, which Pele carried, is itself a culturally significant species: the first tree to grow on new lava flows, its bright red lehua blossoms are often associated with Pele and with the idea of regeneration after destruction.

Locals refer to Pele as Tūtū Pele (Grandmother Pele), a title that signals both familiarity and reverence. This is not a distant, wrathful deity but a force that is part of the family — powerful, unpredictable, and deserving of respect. The relationship is one of reciprocity: you do not take from the volcano without offering something in return, and you do not treat the land as a resource to be extracted.

When Pele Stirs — Interpreting Volcanic Activity Through Tradition

Kīlauea has erupted dozens of times since 1952. From 1983 to 2018, activity was nearly continuous along the East Rift Zone, centered at the Puʻuʻōʻō and Kupaianaha vents. At the summit, a vent within Halemaʻumaʻu hosted an active lava pond and a vigorous gas plume from 2008 to 2018. For many Hawaiians watching these events, the interpretation was straightforward: Pele was active, present, and creative. The pauses in activity, such as the pattern of eruptions and pauses observed since December 2024, were seen as moments of reflection in her creative process.

This is not a simple “goddess is angry” narrative. The tradition is more nuanced. Pele’s moods are not solely destructive; they are also generative. The lava that flows from Kīlauea creates new land, enriches the soil, and allows the ʻŌhiʻa to take root. The 2018 eruption, which destroyed hundreds of homes in the lower Puna district, was also a process of landscape transformation — one that expanded the island’s coastline by several hundred acres.

One of the most visible products of an eruption is Pele’s hair — fine, golden strands of volcanic glass that form when molten lava stretches into thin threads. These delicate fibers accumulate on the ground near active vents. They are beautiful and fragile. They are also sharp: they can cause skin irritation and should be handled with care. The name itself is a cultural marker — the USGS uses the term in its official reports, acknowledging that the Hawaiian language provides the most precise vocabulary for the phenomena at hand.

The 2018 Eruption — Science Meets Sacred Landscape

The 2018 eruption of Kīlauea was a turning point, scientifically and culturally. Over the course of several months, the volcano erupted more than one cubic kilometer of basalt, triggered a magnitude 7 flank earthquake, and caused the largest summit collapse since at least the nineteenth century. The eruption destroyed more than 700 homes in the lower Puna district. Yet the USGS is careful to note that the eruption affected only 3% of the island of Hawaiʻi. The remaining 97% was untouched.

This last point is worth emphasizing, because it is one of the most common misconceptions about Kīlauea. The 2018 eruption was devastating for the communities in its path, particularly the subdivisions of Leilani Estates and Lanipuna Gardens. But it did not “destroy the Big Island” or “shut down tourism.” The vast majority of the island remained open, including the entire Kona and Kohala coasts, most of Hilo, and the vast majority of Hawaiʻi Volcanoes National Park itself.

For many Hawaiians, the 2018 eruption was not a geological event that happened to a passive landscape. It was a transformative event in a relationship with the land. The lava flows took homes, but they also created new coastline. The summit collapse deepened Halemaʻumaʻu, reshaping the crater that is Pele’s home. Since December 2020, several summit eruptions have been slowly filling that collapsed area. In December 2024, a new eruption began in the southwest region of Halemaʻumaʻu, with lava fountains reaching up to 150 feet. As of January 2025, the eruption had paused and resumed multiple times, a pattern consistent with Pele’s creative cycle.

Two Ways of Knowing — Science and Myth in Conversation

The coexistence of scientific and mythic framings is not unique to Hawaiʻi. But Kīlauea and Mauna Loa offer a particularly vivid case study because the volcanic activity is constant, visible, and culturally significant. The USGS does not dismiss the Pele tradition. Its website describes the myth in neutral, respectful language, treating it as part of the context in which the volcano exists. The Park Service likewise incorporates Hawaiian cultural perspectives into its interpretive programs.

This is not a “science vs. religion” conflict in the Western sense. The two systems operate on different planes. Science describes the physical mechanism — the magma chamber, the pressure buildup, the fracture propagation. The myth describes the meaning — the presence of a creative force, the relationship between the land and the people, the ethical obligations of living on an active volcano. Both are valid within their own domains. The challenge comes when one tries to reduce the other to its own terms.

What People Often Wonder About Kīlauea and Pele

Is Pele’s hair actually dangerous?

Pele’s hair is fine strands of volcanic glass formed when molten lava stretches into thin threads. The fibers are sharp and can cause skin irritation or eye injury if handled carelessly. The USGS recommends avoiding contact and not disturbing the material. It is also culturally significant — many locals consider it a physical manifestation of Pele’s presence and prefer that visitors leave it undisturbed.

Did the 2018 eruption destroy the entire Big Island?

No. The USGS reports that the 2018 eruption affected only 3% of the island of Hawaiʻi. The remaining 97% was untouched. The destruction was concentrated in the lower Puna district, where more than 700 homes were lost. But the Kona and Kohala coasts, Hilo, and most of Hawaiʻi Volcanoes National Park remained open and unaffected.

Can you visit Kīlauea during an eruption?

Yes. Hawaiʻi Volcanoes National Park is open during most eruptions, provided the activity is confined to the summit caldera and does not threaten infrastructure. During the December 2024–January 2025 eruption, the park offered designated viewpoints for viewing lava fountains and flows. The USGS monitors activity continuously and provides updates. Check the park website and the USGS Kīlauea page before going.

Do all Hawaiians believe in Pele?

No. Religious and cultural beliefs vary widely across the Hawaiian community. Some families maintain strong traditions of honoring Pele, while others may not engage with the mythology at all. The tradition is also regional — families from different parts of the island may have different stories about Pele’s journey and her relationships with other deities. It is a mistake to assume a single, uniform belief system.

Is there a connection between Kīlauea and Mauna Loa in the myths?

The two volcanoes are connected in the broader Pele tradition, though the research does not provide a single unified account of their relationship. The summit of Kīlauea lies on a curving line of volcanoes that includes Mauna Kea and Kohala, while Mauna Loa occupies a separate line. The Pele narrative maps the entire volcanic landscape of the island, with different sites associated with different episodes in her journey. The relationship between the two volcanoes in myth is still a matter of ongoing discussion among cultural practitioners and scholars.

What the Myths Reveal About Living With Fire

The myths of Kīlauea and Mauna Loa are not primitive geology dressed up in narrative form. They are a system of ethics, a map of meaning, and a way of maintaining relationship with a landscape that is fundamentally alive. Science tells us how the volcano works — the pressure, the magma, the fractures. The myth tells us what it means to live alongside that power: to respect it, to not take more than you need, to understand that creation and destruction are the same process seen from different angles. The next time you see a photo of lava glowing against a Hawaiian night sky, ask not just what the volcano is doing, but what it is saying. For those who have been listening for centuries, the two questions are the same. For more on how Hawaiian language and oral tradition encode this relationship, see Exploring Hawaiian Language Through Traditional Stories on IslandHopperGuides.

Sources and further reading

U.S. Geological Survey. “Kīlauea.” 2025. 🔗

Kohala Coast Properties. “The Story of Kīlauea: A Tale of Fire, Myth and Beauty.” 2025. 🔗

Anderson, K. R., Shea, T., Lynn, K. J., Montgomery-Brown, E. K., Swanson, D. A., Patrick, M. R., Shiro, B., & Neal, C. A. “The 2018 eruption of Kīlauea: Insights, puzzles, and opportunities for volcano science.” 2023. 🔗

Related reading on IslandHopperGuides

The Beauty of Hawaiian Language in Everyday Life — How Hawaiian words and phrases carry cultural knowledge about the land and natural phenomena.

The Ancient Art of Hula: More Than Just a Dance, It’s Hawaiian History in Motion — Hula as a vehicle for preserving and transmitting oral traditions, including stories of Pele.

Uncovering the Roots of Hawaiian Family Histories — How genealogical traditions connect families to specific places and stories on the volcanic landscape.