Tavurvur buried a town and killed almost nobody. When the cone erupted on 19 September 1994, together with Vulcan across the bay, wet ash up to 75 centimetres deep collapsed around 80 percent of the buildings in Rabaul. Only five people died, because some 30,000 had already walked out on nineteen hours of warning. East New Britain moved its capital to Kokopo, and parts of the old town still sit roof-deep in grey. The cone itself is modest, a few hundred metres of black scoria at the water's edge. What it stands on is not. Simpson Harbour, the calm blue bay in front of it, is a drowned caldera — the flooded collapse-scar of a far larger volcano, rimmed by green cones the Tolai call the Mother and her Daughters.
You come to it by boat from Rabaul or Kokopo, the black cone growing out of the water ahead. Tavurvur last erupted on 29 August 2014, throwing ash some 15 kilometres up and punching a visible shockwave ring through the cloud. It has been quiet since, but not asleep: steam and sulphur drift from the crater, the alert level sits at the lowest of four stages, and the ground has been slowly swelling since 2024. With a guide you climb the loose grey slope to a rim that radiates heat and smells of eggs. Villagers dig scrubfowl eggs out of the ash the volcano keeps warm at its foot. Tavurvur and Vulcan stand on the same caldera ring, and they tend to erupt in pairs.