Lapindo

Like a Hollywood horror movie the monster from the depths was released on an ordinary Monday afternoon five years ago.

It was almost the end of May 2006 and I was driving home to Surabaya, the capital of East Java and Indonesia's second largest city.

The previous couple of days had been spent in Malang, a 90-minute drive south, visiting relatives. A typical weekend. But this time there were problems.

Entering the toll road near Sidoarjo, about 30 kilometres short of our destination the normally free-flowing traffic was snarled. It hadn't been raining – this was the dry season – but the road was awash with muddy water.

So were the paddy alongside – and the water was moving fast, swamping the young rice. Mechanical diggers and men with hoes were trying to clean a clogged ditch. About 200 metres away a white cloud was billowing from the mud, hiding a giant rig that had been working there for weeks. The rotten-egg stench of hydrogen sulphide answered the question every motorist was asking.

There'd been a gas and liquid blowout.

During the next few days Indonesians were assured the problem would soon be solved, though there was much confusion about the cause.

As the days rolled into months and the mud and gas continued to gush, weird plans to shut the flow were suggested, including dropping giant concrete balls into the well mouth. Then large sums were offered to religious leaders and paranormals to pray for a cessation, which they did with great ceremony and certainty.

Nothing worked.

Now jump to the present. What's come to be known as the Lapindo mud volcano (after the company running the project, PT Lapindo Brantas) continues to spew out an estimated 30,000 cubic metres of hot mud a day. It's reported to be the biggest disaster of its kind in the world.

Two years ago Australian expert Dr Mark Tingay from Perth's Curtin University of Technology claimed the belching could last for 30 years, and that the area was slowly sinking. His estimate of the damage was then US$4.9 billion.

Huge levees built to contain the slime are frequently ruptured and have to be raised even higher. Enterprising locals have put ladders up the banks so tourists can pay to get a better view of the boiling mud.