I nominate the island of Sumatra as the
earth's appendix. (Now that I have your attention.) Stretching from the northwest over a thousand miles
to the southeast, and up to 270 miles wide, it is evenly sliced
asunder by the equator, and it just keeps rupturing and trying to
kill us.
Off its south-eastern tip lies the
treacherous 15 mile wide Sunda Strait, in which resides Krakatoa, the
volcano whose explosive May 1883 eruption killed at least 36,000
people. In December of 2004, the Java trench just off Sumatra's
north-western coast was the epicenter for the 9.3 magnitude
earthquake and resulting tsunami that killed 230,000 humans. And in
the 12, 000 foot high Barisan Mountains on Sumatra itself, lies Lake
Toba, a water filled caldera 18 miles wide by 60 miles long. It was
this placid tropical vacation spot which on a December or January day
71,500 years ago – plus or minus 4,000 years – came very close to
killing everybody.
On that very bad day 71,500 years ago
the once great Mount Toba had a lump of rhyoite stuck in its vent,
preventing the magma in its six mile wide reservoir nine miles below
the surface from exhaling. The pressures built up until, as it must
eventually, something gave. Perhaps it was a minor earthquake along
the Sumatra Fault. Perhaps, as at Mount St. Helens, it was a
landslide that released the twin beasts beneath the mountain. The
initial explosion was big enough, throwing off tens of millions of
tons of rock, but also enough to unleash an older, deeper magma
chamber just to the north. The co-joined reservoirs were 17 cubic
miles across. And the resultant combined explosion lasted a week,
and threw ten trillion, trillion with a “T”, ten trillion tons of
1,500 degree Fahrenheit magma, rock and gas into the stratosphere.
This youngest Toba eruption was far
greater than the 1815 eruption of yet another Indonesian volcano:
this one about a thousand miles to the east, the 14,000 foot high
Mount Tambora. This monster killed perhaps 11,000 locally and threw
enough sulfuric acid into the stratosphere to turn 1816 into the
“Year Without a Summer”, killing another 60,000 in Europe, China
and North America through starvation and disease, when crops failed.
Mount Toba was 100 times bigger than that, the largest volcanic
explosion in the last 2 million years. The Toba ash fell in
Greenland. The math says it caused a “volcanic winter” that lasted 6 to 10
years. Global temperatures would have dropped six degrees Fahrenheit.
That makes it big enough to have killed almost every human on earth.
Off course it was easier back then,
because there were only about 55,000 primates walking around on two
legs, divided, like a biblical tale of Cain and Able, into two family
tribes; homo Neanderthal and homo Erectus. Like all family stories,
this one is more complicated than any mere recitation of names and
dates can explain. But what is important to remember is we are
talking about fewer humans than there are endangered Gorillas and
Chimpanzees today. So killing all the humans on earth was not that
big a job.
Erectus was the older brother, and he
left his African home first. Taking his innovative hunter-gatherer
life style on the road, he enjoyed a population boom as a result. But
like an unsuspecting Wall Street investor, the boom was followed by a
nasty surprise bust. It was Erectus' far flung prodigy who camped
in the shadow of Mount Toba, 71,500 years ago. And according to
research by geneticist Lynn B. Jorde at the University of Utah, the
genetic markers passed down to us by our ancestors indicate a
“bottleneck” when the number of
Erectus was reduced to a mere 10,000 individuals, maybe, even, as low
as 40 “breeding pairs”. In other words, 70,000 years ago the
total world-wide population of us, could have jointly attended a
Sacramento Kings basketball game, with the stadium still left half
empty, with the “breeders”, scattered about
in the corporate sky boxes.
I should point out that our story has a
happy ending. Sixty thousand years after Toba, human populations had
not only rebounded, but had grown to more than one million
individuals world wide. This was primarily thanks to the invention of
agriculture, but it was also a byproduct of the elimination of our
competition.
Half a million years before the Toba
eruption, the more robust humanoids, named after Germany's Neander
River valley where their skeletons were first uncovered, had moved
into Europe. And 40,000 after Toba, Homo Neanderthals were extinct.
The last survivors discovered so far were a single family group,
camped in what is now Spain, and dated to no more than 45,000 years ago.
Why did they die out? Their body type required between 100 and 350
more calories per day than the ancestors of Erectus, otherwise known
as “us”.
In other words, as any supermodel can tell you, we are a better at
surviving starvation, at least better at it than Neanderthal. Hard
to believe given the current population of fat assed Big Mac eating,
french fry inhaling Americans. But maybe that explains our obsession
with “all you can eat”. In any case, by 1804 the population of
Homo sapians sapiens had reached 1 billion individuals. And
collectively we now weigh 100 times the biomass of any other land
animal that has ever walked the earth. Apatosaurus, you should have
invented the Whopper. Any chance another super volcanic eruption
could kill us all has become extremely unlikely. Not impossible,
just unlikely. But then the size of the Toba eruption was unlikely in
the first place.
This is one small factual problem with
this gloom and doom story. In 2013 archaeologists working at Lake
Malawi, at the southern end of the African Rift Valley, discovered a
layer of volcanic ash that was part of the Toba eruption, 71,500
years ago. This was to be expected, given that the African Rift
Valley was ground zero for human evolution, and our story is about
how humans were almost wiped out by Toba. But the herds of
wildebeests and antelope in the rift valley humans were feeding off
of were more far numerous then, than they are now. And their genetic
heritage shows no Toba bottleneck. How could we starve if our food
did not?
Well, it could have been that just
about the same time Toba really blew its top, that smallpox made its
first appearance. Small Pox kills 40% of adults infected and 80% of
children. In fact, it is far more likely that a tiny bacteria or an
even smaller virus would wipe us out, than a big volcano, as anybody
with a runny nose six year old can testify. The Black Death (Yersinia pestis)
killed about 200 million people in the 14th century alone – 1/3 of
the population of Europe. Or maybe 71,500 years ago the Predator race
flew in from their home planet for their first Terrestrial hunting
safari.
Add Toba to just about any other
disaster and you could have a human ending event. This may explain,
at least in part, why it has taken four billion years for a life
form on earth to develop the cognitive power stand up on their own two legs and say, “I'll have a Big Mac with fries,
please.”
The one thing we know about Toba is, it
is going to do it again. Over the last million years, Toba has
produced three major eruptions, one 840,000 years ago, a second
700,000 years ago, and the big one 71,500 years ago. The lake that
fills the caldera is 1,600 feet deep, but beneath that is another
1,500 feet of sediment.
The lava reservoir beneath the caldera has
refilled enough to raise a resurgent dome in the middle of the lake,
more than 3,000 feet above the water. It has been named Samosir
Island. At 30 miles long, 15 miles wide, and 247 square miles in
area, it is the largest island within an island in the world. And it
contains two lakes with their own islands. This appendix is reloading
to rupture again. Should we be worried?
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