The loudest sound in recorded history came from the volcanic eruption on the Indonesian island Krakatoa at 10.02 a.m. on August 27, 1883. The explosion caused two thirds of the island to collapse and formed tsunami waves as high as 46 m (151 ft) rocking ships as far away as South Africa.
The explosion was reportedly heard 4800 km (3000 miles) away, where people described the sound as "cannon fire from a nearby ship”.
The Batavia gasworks (North Jakarta), 160 km (99 miles) away from the source, registered a sound pressure level spike of more than 2½ inches of mercury (8.5 kPa), equivalent to 172 decibels. The sound pressure wave traveled the globe seven times in total over the following five days.
In comparrison Microphone Type 4966-L-001is designed for high sound pressure level (SPL) measurements – such as in the proximity of a jet engine - provides a dynamic range of 144 dB.
Coral block thrown onto the shore of Java after the Krakatoa eruption of 1883.
Nature is a law unto itself, and there is nothing we can do to combat its extremities, in this case, extreme sound. However, we can do something about sounds created by man. Read about the deafening noise in Europewhere new laws and standards are constantly taking shape.
Krakatoa today.
I'm no stranger to the explosive world of sound, and the eruption of Krakatoa in 1883 is like a symphony of extremes that still echoes through the annals of history. The depth of my knowledge extends beyond casual fascination; it's rooted in a thorough understanding of acoustics and the sheer power that nature can unleash.
Let's dissect the explosive crescendo of Krakatoa's eruption. The eruption, a cataclysmic event, reverberated with such force that it sent shockwaves around the globe. The collapse of two-thirds of the island unleashed a sonic boom heard 4800 km away—so distant that the sound was mistaken for "cannon fire from a nearby ship." This wasn't just hearsay; it's documented evidence of a volcanic symphony reaching unprecedented volumes.
The Batavia gasworks, standing 160 km from the eruption source, became an unwitting recording studio for this symphony of destruction. The sound pressure level spike, registered at more than 2½ inches of mercury (8.5 kPa), equating to a mind-boggling 172 decibels. To put this in perspective, the Microphone Type 4966-L-001, designed for high sound pressure level measurements near a jet engine, offers a dynamic range of 144 dB. Krakatoa's roar eclipsed even modern tools built to withstand extreme acoustic environments.
The sonic journey didn't stop there. The sound pressure wave embarked on a global tour, circumnavigating the Earth seven times in the following five days. That's a testament to the sheer power of nature's soundwaves, echoing through the very fabric of our planet.
Now, let's pivot to the modern age, where we attempt to tame man-made sound. In Europe, a different kind of noise battle is underway. Laws and standards constantly evolve to combat deafening human-generated sounds. From Krakatoa's explosive symphony to the ongoing struggle against noise pollution, the contrast is stark. Nature may be a law unto itself, but we, as stewards of our environment, strive to control the cacophony we create.
And as for Krakatoa today, it stands as a reminder of nature's unfettered power, a silent witness to the symphony that shook the world in 1883.
