Mount Ulawun: The Father of New Britain

Dominating the north coast of the island of New Britain in Papua New Guinea, Mount Ulawun is a sight that commands both awe and fear. Known locally as “The Father,” it is a near-perfect basaltic-to-andesitic stratovolcano that rises symmetrically from the jungle to a height of 2,334 meters (7,657 feet). It is the highest mountain in the Bismarck Archipelago and one of the most active volcanoes in Melanesia.

Ulawun is not just a mountain; it is a living, breathing entity in the lives of the local Nakanai people. It is arguably the most frequently active volcano in Papua New Guinea, with a history of minor ash explosions interspersed with major, devastating eruptions. Because of its potential for destruction and its proximity to populated areas (including logging camps and palm oil plantations), it has been designated as one of the 16 Decade Volcanoes by IAVCEI, placing it in the same league as Mount Rainier, Etna, and Vesuvius.

The Father and the South Son

To understand Ulawun, one must look at the horizon. It stands just 20 kilometers northeast of another volcano, Bamus (2,248m), which is known as the “South Son.”

Geological Siblings

While they are neighbors, they are distinctly different.

Ulawun (The Father): A young, steep, and unvegetated cone. Its summit is often capped by a plume of white steam or grey ash. It is structurally sound but geologically restless.
Bamus (The South Son): An older, dormant volcano covered in dense rainforest right up to its summit. Its crater contains a lava dome and is breached on the southern side.
Likuruanga (The North Son): A smaller, older volcano to the north, largely eroded.

The Legend of the Smoker

According to Nakanai mythology, Ulawun was originally a man—a giant stranger who arrived from the sea. He smoked a massive pipe of tobacco continuously. He married a local woman, Simolo, and settled on the mountain. His constant smoking represents the ash and steam that the volcano emits to this day. His son, Bamus, moved to the neighboring peak but eventually stopped smoking (went dormant), while the Father continues to puff away, shaking the earth when he is angry.

A History of Violence

Ulawun has been erupting for centuries. Since the first recorded observation by the English explorer William Dampier in 1700, there have been over 40 recorded eruptions.

The Decade Volcano Status

Why is Ulawun a Decade Volcano?

High Hazard Potential: It is capable of generating pyroclastic flows, massive ash columns, and lahars (mudflows) that can sweep down its steep flanks in minutes.
Structural Instability: The sheer steepness of the cone makes it prone to flank collapse. A massive landslide could trigger a tsunami in the Bismarck Sea, threatening coastal communities.
Population Density: While the mountain itself is uninhabited, the surrounding plains are home to thousands of people working in the palm oil and logging industries.

The Century of Fire

Ulawun’s activity has been relentless. The historical record is a catalog of violent outbursts.

1915: A significant eruption that established the modern baseline for activity. It produced large lava flows that reached the coast, changing the shoreline profile.
1970: A major explosive phase that produced pyroclastic flows and heavy ashfall. This event was a turning point for monitoring, prompting the Rabaul Volcanological Observatory to install more permanent seismic stations in the region.
1978: Another violent year. In May 1978, a new crater formed on the southeast flank. Lava fountaining was observed, and a blocky lava flow descended the slopes, cutting through the rainforest like a hot knife.
1980: This was one of the largest eruptions in the late 20th century. The eruption column reached stratospheric heights (20km). The entire summit was modified, and the pyroclastic flows—avalanches of superheated gas and rock—wiped out 20 square kilometers of vegetation. The scorched earth scars from this event are still visible on satellite imagery today.

The 2019 Crisis: A Modern Disaster

On June 26, 2019, Ulawun woke up with a fury that caught many off guard.

The Plume: A sub-plinian column shot 19 kilometers (63,000 feet) into the air. This wasn’t just a local problem; it became a global aviation hazard. Flights across the Southwest Pacific were diverted or cancelled as the ash cloud drifted towards the Solomon Islands.
The Highway: The New Britain Highway, the single artery connecting the provincial capital Kimbe to the port of Rabaul, was severed. Lava flows and heavy ash deposits made the road impassable. This choked the island’s economy, stopping the transport of palm oil fruit to the mills and supplies to the villages.
The Displacement: Over 13,000 people were forced to flee. They moved to care centers in Kabaya and other safe zones. The humanitarian crisis highlighted the vulnerability of the populations living in the “Red Zone”—the high-risk area immediately surrounding the volcano.

The Challenge of Monitoring the father

Monitoring a Decade Volcano in a developing nation like Papua New Guinea is a heroic struggle against the elements and logistics.

The Rabaul Volcanological Observatory (RVO)

The RVO, based in Rabaul (itself destroyed by a volcano in 1994), is responsible for watching Ulawun. Their job is incredibly difficult.

Remote Location: Ulawun is isolated. Getting to the monitoring stations requires 4x4 vehicles and demanding hikes through the jungle.
Vandalism: A major challenge is the theft of equipment. Solar panels and batteries used to power seismic stations are often stolen by locals, leaving the scientists blind to the volcano’s internal tremors.
Real-time Data: When the equipment is working, it transmits real-time seismic amplitude measurements (RSAM). An increase in “tremor”—continuous vibration—is the primary warning sign that magma is rising. When the tremor passes a certain threshold, the RVO raises the alert level from Stage 1 (Quiet) to Stage 2, 3, or 4.

Community-Based Monitoring

Because technology can fail, the RVO relies heavily on the “human seismometer.”

The Elders: Local village elders who have lived by the volcano for decades are often the first to notice subtle changes—a change in the color of the steam, a drying up of a spring, or a sulfuric smell in the wind.
Radio Networks: Plantation managers and village heads communicate via HF radio. When “The Father” smokes too much, the radio chatter increases, forming a grassroots early warning system that is often faster than the official channels.

Living in the Shadow: The Palm Oil Dilemma

The relationship between the volcano and the people is complex. The very thing that makes the volcano dangerous also makes the land profitable.

Fertile Soil

Volcanic ash is rich in minerals. Over millennia, Ulawun has spread a nutrient-rich blanket over the surrounding plains, creating some of the most fertile soil in the Pacific. This has attracted large-scale agriculture.

Hargy Oil Palms: The flanks of the volcano are blanketed in vast grids of oil palm trees. These plantations provide jobs and infrastructure (roads, schools, clinics) for the local population.
The Economic Risk: When Ulawun erupts, it threatens the entire economy of West New Britain. The ash is heavy and acidic; it can snap the fronds of the palm trees and contaminate the water supply for the processing mills.

Disaster Management

Living next to “The Father” requires constant vigilance.

Rabaul Volcanological Observatory (RVO): Based on the other end of the island, the RVO monitors Ulawun using seismometers and satellite imagery.
The Evacuation Plan: When the seismic tremors increase (the “throat clearing” of the Father), sirens sound in the plantation camps. Trucks are mobilized to move workers and families to safe zones in Kabaya and overseeing missions.

Climbing Ulawun: The Hardest Hike in PNG?

Climbing Ulawun is possible, but it is a grueling and dangerous undertaking that should only be attempted when the alert level is low.

The Route

Start: The trek usually begins from the Ulamona Mission on the coast.
Terrain: The lower slopes are a sweating slog through dense tropical jungle. Leeches, humidity, and heat are the main enemies.
The Slippery Zone: Above the treeline (around 1,500m), the vegetation disappears. The climber is faced with a 40-degree slope of loose scoria and hardened lava flows. It is notoriously difficult footing—for every two steps up, you often slide one step back.
The Summit: The rim is a desolate, wind-battered place. The ground is hot to the touch. The inner crater is often obscured by sulfurous gas. Standing there, one feels the vibration of the magma chamber rumbling deep beneath. It is a place that feels decidedly hostile to human life.

Conclusion

Mount Ulawun is a geological titan that demands respect. For the volcanologist, it is a fascinating case study in open-system degassing and structural instability. For the people of West New Britain, it is a neighbor that provides both the soil for their livelihood and the threat of their destruction. The Father is always smoking, always watching, and as history has shown, he rarely sleeps for long.