Many are foreign tourists who wish to create content
On the slopes of Mount Dukono, a volcano that had been warning of its restlessness since December, three hikers lost their lives when the mountain erupted in the early morning hours of a day that should never have found them there. Two were Singaporean, one Indonesian — part of a group of twenty who had crossed into a prohibited zone despite explicit official warnings, posted signs, and widely circulated appeals. Their deaths on Halmahera island remind us that the earth's power is not indifferent to human ambition, and that the line between adventure and tragedy is often drawn not by nature, but by the choices we make before we ever reach the trailhead.
- Mount Dukono erupted without mercy in the early hours, hurling a ten-kilometer column of ash skyward and trapping hikers in terrain that had been declared off-limits for months.
- Three hikers are dead and two remain unaccounted for on the mountain, their recovery impossible while the volcano continues to rumble and the slopes remain dangerously unstable.
- Fifteen survivors descended safely, but the question of why the group entered a restricted zone at all has hardened into a criminal matter — the guide and porter who led them in now face potential prosecution.
- Authorities believe the lure of social media content drove the hikers past warning signs and into the prohibited four-kilometer radius around the crater, a detail that has sharpened public frustration.
- Indonesia's volcanic alert system holds Dukono at level 2, and officials are now moving to station monitors at trail access points to enforce what warnings alone could not.
Twenty hikers were on the slopes of Mount Dukono when the volcano erupted in the early morning, sending ash and smoke ten kilometers into the sky and a deep boom rolling across Halmahera island. Three of them — two Singaporeans and one Indonesian — did not survive. Fifteen descended safely. The remaining two were unaccounted for, and the bodies of the dead could not yet be retrieved; the volcano was still active, the terrain too dangerous for recovery teams to enter.
The group had no business being there. Since December, Indonesia's volcanology authorities had issued clear warnings: stay at least four kilometers from the Malupang Warirang crater. Seismic activity had been rising. Signs were posted. Alerts circulated on social media. The restrictions were public and explicit. Yet the hikers pressed on, led by a local guide and porter who now face potential criminal charges for taking tourists into a prohibited zone.
North Halmahera's police chief offered a pointed explanation for why the warnings were ignored. Local residents, he noted, understood the danger and stayed away. The hikers, many of them foreign tourists, appeared driven by the desire to capture content — images from a place few others dared to go. That impulse, he implied, had cost three people their lives.
Survivors with minor injuries were taken to hospital. The guide and porter were taken into custody. Authorities announced that hiking would remain prohibited while the volcano held its level 2 alert status, and that monitors would be stationed at access points to prevent future incursions. Indonesia has nearly 130 active volcanoes; eruptions are a known feature of its landscape. What happened on Mount Dukono was not inevitable — it was a preventable consequence of a choice made in full knowledge of the risk.
Twenty hikers were climbing the slopes of Mount Dukono on Halmahera island when the volcano erupted in the early morning hours. Three of them—two from Singapore and one Indonesian—would not come back down alive.
The eruption sent a column of ash and smoke ten kilometers into the air, accompanied by a booming sound that echoed across the island. Lana Saria, head of Indonesia's government geology agency, described the thick plume rising from the summit, its ash drifting northward toward the city of Tobelo and surrounding areas. Yet because no settlements existed within nine and a half kilometers of the volcano, the immediate threat to populated areas remained limited. The real danger had already found its victims on the mountain itself.
Of the twenty climbers on the slopes that morning, nine were from Singapore and the rest Indonesian. Fifteen managed to descend safely. The other five—three dead, two unaccounted for—remained on the mountain. Erlichson Pasaribu, the North Halmahera police chief, explained to reporters gathered at a monitoring station in Mamuya village that the bodies could not yet be retrieved. The volcano continued to rumble. The terrain was treacherous. Rescuers would have to wait for conditions to stabilize before attempting recovery in what he called "tough terrain."
The hikers should never have been there at all. Since December, Indonesia's national volcanology centre had issued explicit warnings: stay at least four kilometers away from the Malupang Warirang crater. Scientists had detected a marked increase in seismic activity. Warning signs were posted at the trail entrance. Social media appeals circulated. The restrictions were clear and widely publicized. Yet the group pressed on, guided by a local guide and porter who would later face potential criminal charges for leading tourists into a prohibited zone.
When Pasaribu was asked why the hikers had ignored the warnings, his answer carried a note of frustration. "Local residents understand and don't want to climb," he said. "Many are foreign tourists who wish to create content." The pull of social media—the desire to capture images from a dangerous place, to document an experience few others could claim—had overridden official guidance and basic safety.
Some of the surviving hikers sustained minor injuries and were taken to hospital. The guide and porter were taken into police custody. Mount Dukono remained at level 2 on Indonesia's four-tiered volcanic alert system, a status that would now trigger stricter enforcement. Pasaribu made clear that hiking would be prohibited as long as the volcano remained at that alert level, and authorities would station monitors at key access points to prevent future attempts.
Indonesia sits on the Pacific Ring of Fire, where tectonic plates collide and create one of the world's most volcanically active regions. The country has nearly 130 active volcanoes. Eruptions are not rare; they are part of the landscape. But the deaths on Mount Dukono were preventable. They resulted not from the volcano's power—which was real but contained—but from a choice to enter a space where entry had been forbidden, where danger had been announced, where the risk was known.
Citas Notables
Local residents understand and don't want to climb. Many are foreign tourists who wish to create content.— Erlichson Pasaribu, North Halmahera police chief
Due to ongoing eruptions, the situation is still considered unsafe for evacuation. The joint team is still waiting for the right time to begin the search.— Erlichson Pasaribu, on recovery efforts
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why would experienced hikers ignore such explicit warnings? Weren't they aware of the danger?
The warnings were clear, but the pull of the place—and the social media moment—apparently overrode caution. A volcano at alert level 2 still erupts. The hikers may have believed the risk was manageable, or that they could move fast enough to escape. They were wrong.
What happens to the guide and porter now?
They face criminal charges for leading the group into a prohibited area. In a sense, they're being held responsible for a choice that wasn't entirely theirs—the hikers wanted to go. But guides have a duty to refuse dangerous work, and they failed that duty.
How common is this kind of incident in Indonesia?
Eruptions happen regularly. But deaths from eruptions in populated areas are rare because most settlements are far enough away. The real danger comes when people deliberately enter restricted zones. This incident will likely harden enforcement.
What about the two hikers who are still unaccounted for?
That's the open question. They may be among the dead whose bodies haven't been recovered yet, or they may be injured and sheltering somewhere on the mountain. Until rescuers can safely reach the slopes, no one knows for certain.
Will this change how Indonesia manages volcanic tourism?
Almost certainly. Stricter monitoring at trailheads, longer enforcement of no-entry zones, and possibly prosecution of guides who ignore restrictions. The incident has made clear that warnings alone aren't enough.