A Boiling Lake
March 3, 2021 Dominica, West Indies
The distinct odor of sulphur wafted through the humid tropical air, a pungent reminder of the genesis of the magnificent landscape we were slowly traversing. Our destination was Boiling Lake, purported to be the second largest boiling lake in the world.
We met our guide Octavius, aka Sea Cat, at zero dawn hundred near the sole dinghy dock on the Prince Rupert Bay anchorage, Portsmouth, Dominica. Our pod of fellow hikers included Tim and Diane / Skylark, Arden and Jim / Kalli and John from Lark, a new addition to our bubble. Riding in the back seat of the passenger van on the winding roads south along the coast to Roseau and the trailhead was akin to a roller coaster ride-until the traffic jam entering the city.Then it was simply tedious as we itched to get to the trail. We began driving into the rainforest in the hills above Roseau. The rain began falling in earnest- it promised to be an especially muddy morning.
The trailhead began at Titou Gorge, which also turns out to be the water intake for a small scale hydroelectric project situated down the mountain. Tim and I had discussed the efficiency of hydro in this place of 300” of annual rainfall and steep drops. 100’ of head can provide a huge amount of power to drive a turbine.
Sea Cat had been hiking these trails for 25 years and provided a running narrative about the many trees and plants we trudged by in the sloppy, slick conditions. The dark forest contrasted with the brilliant flower specimens. The shiny water on the leaves reflected the gray sky. The trail had been constructed with numerous log segments set perpendicular across the trail to slow erosion and provide a semblance of steps in the steep sections. They were treacherously slick at times. We started out slowly and after about 45 minutes reached a river crossing, where Sea Cat announced that the easy part was over and the fun was about to begin. Fortunately the rain had ceased, so the jackets came off before we really started to climb and sweat. Up and up, sometimes using a knee to lever up to the next level, grasping at roots and trunks. After several stream crossings and some very steep scrambling we reached a knife-edge ridge that climbed to the high point, 3000’ above sea level. The 360˚ view was spectacular, with the Caribbean Sea to the west and the textures of the rainforest all around below. The Trois Pitons loomed high to the south. To the east fell the Valley of Desolation.
The smell of sulphur was strong here. We could see steam rising from numerous fumaroles in the damaged looking barren land below us. This was the beginning of the thermally active area. The geologic instability of this zone led to numerous and frequent landslides and erosion continuously carved new forms. Sea Cat had not been here for a year due to the Covid crisis and said he was amazed at how different the primordial landscape appeared.
Sea Cat had sprinted ahead into the Valley of Desolation as we worked our way down an active slide area, very glad it wasn’t still pouring with rain. We arrived at Sea Cat’s location amid steaming and bubbling pools of milky colored water. He grabbed his walking stick and pulled from the hot stream a plastic bag containing hard boiled eggs! They were a wonderful mid-morning snack to fuel us on the arduous next mile to Boiling Lake. Before we could march on Sea Cat insisted on giving everyone a facial with the mineral rich warm gray mud. Gamely everyone assented, my heavy beard keeping me from getting the full treatment.
The last mile was tricky, with slippery vertical rock scrambling and a rope-assisted down climb to a stream. Then more up, the steam from the lake now thick and pungent. My glasses fogged and cleared as the wind gusted. At last we burst onto the small ledge above the Boiling Lake. A small waterfall fell from the left into the 3 acre pool of white churning water. When the steam cleared we could plainly see that the lake was boiling furiously, an awe-inspiring display of Mother Nature’s power and diversity. Sea Cat said that a few years previously a landslide had reduced the size of the lake by a third. Who knows how long it will last, but the energy in the earth below the lake will certainly be affecting this area for millennia.
After a lunch of fish and salad provided by our amiable guide we had to press on. The day was wearing on and darkness would fall heavy in the jungle on the lower half of the trail. My legs were feeling heavy after the first mile and half of the return hike when Sea Cat announced that the hot tub was open! To our right down a short, steep cliff was a beautiful pool of warm water fed by thundering falls flowing from the Valley of Desolation. I was never one to shy away from a skinny dip and was followed by Diane, Tim and John for a quick soak and magical waterfall massage. Ahh, bliss! I could have stayed there for an hour!
But the others had hiked ahead and some incredibly steep climbs awaited. Fortunately Sea Cat was waiting on a perch in the Valley of Desolation and he graciously helped shepherd me up the mountain to the summit. One. Step. At. A. Time. We finished off Sea Cat’s supply of delicious homemade passionfruit juice, and were rejuvenated for the last push back to civilization. The sun shone low along the shark tooth ridge, casting beautiful light across the rugged terrain. I was so fortunate to witness this magic of creation with Helen and our new friends. A tiny yellow-breasted bananaquit serenaded our final descent into the darkening rainforest canopy.
