Volcano Cowboys

The day before Mt. St. Helens erupted in 1980, releasing ""the largest landslide in human history,"" U.S. Geological Survey scientists had no inkling that the volcano was close to blowing out--even though a network of high-tech instruments girdled the mountain, monitoring its vital signs. The heated debate among survey scientists over what the volcano would do next after the first rumblings was kept hidden from the public, as Time staff writer Thompson reveals. Fifty-seven people were killed, and the cataclysm devastated a 230-square-mile area. Unlike other volcano books, this engrossing field report offers an unusually candid look at the learning curve men and women travel as they practice the messy, ego-driven, error-riddled pursuit called science. Happily, reports Thompson, volcanology made significant strides between the Mt. St. Helens disaster and the 1991 explosion of Mt. Pinatubo in the Philippines. Although Pinatubo killed more than 200 people (mostly from roof collapses), 80,000 lives were saved thanks to an evacuation. Volcanology is a tricky science because volcanoes blow their stacks infrequently, and one volcano may erupt in a style completely different from a neighboring volcano. Figuring out these molten dynamics--in cataclysms from Indonesia to Colombia--are daredevil scientists whom Thompson dubs ""volcano cowboys."" They perch their outdoor labs on smoldering peaks, often risking their lives to get gas samples from fuming vents. Among the cowboys are Harry Glicken, an eccentric itinerant volcano-landslide expert killed in a Japanese eruption in 1991, and seismologist/ex-Vietnam marine Dave Harlow, the ""Indiana Jones of volcanology."" Decked out with remarkable photographs, this solid report captures the human drama of a dangerous science. Agent, Kris Dahl. (Aug.)