The Norphlet Crater: When A Good Well Goes Bad

Hidden in the woods of Union County, Arkansas, a large unassuming sinkhole housing a small pond called the Norphlet Crater was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 2008. Although it’s easy to overlook, this hole in the ground has quite a story to tell about the early days of the oil and gas industry in Arkansas and a gas well that could not be tamed.

Topographic map view of Norphlet Crater

In 1922, two years following the Hill No. 1 gas well drilled by Constantine Oil and Refining Company near El Dorado, Arkansas, oil and gas production in the area expanded dramatically and El Dorado became the hub for the petroleum industry in Arkansas. Small independent oil companies and major companies with internationally recognized names, such as Shell and Standard Oil, were all drilling in Union County, Arkansas. In the pine covered hills and farmland about eight miles northwest of El Dorado, near the small town of Norphlet, a cotton field^[1] on a farm owned by Mr. Jesse T. Murphy (in Sec. 8 T.16S., R.15W.)^[2] would cause the quiet town to become the newest boomtown almost overnight. Unbeknownst to Mr. Murphy, his farm was located on top of a geological structure that would later be known as the Norphlet Dome. This dome acted as a structural trap for oil and gas that was largely untapped^[1]. In the spring of 1922, the Oil Operators’ Trust Company leased a plot of land on Mr. Murphy’s farm to drill the Murphy No. 1 well (also called the Anderson-Murphy No. 1 and John L. Anderson-Murphy No. 1) with drilling contractor John L. Anderson^[3].

On Sunday, May 14, the rig crew finished drilling to 2,025 feet in the Cretaceous age Nacotoch Sand^[2,4]. After reaching total depth, they began pulling the drill pipe out of the borehole. At about eight o’clock that evening^[1], when they had all but 200 feet of pipe out of the hole, they received a gas kick (a large volume of gas rising in the borehole). The rising gas roared with the sound of a modern-day jet engine that could be heard over two miles away^[2] and “[d]rilling crews…up to a quarter mile away claimed they had to plug their ears”^[1]. The pressure of the gas pushed the remaining drill pipe upwards damaging the derrick. The roughnecks, hearing and feeling the rumble of the gas, dashed to refuge. Working in the derrick was another roughneck who grabbed ahold of a guy wire leashing the top of the derrick to the ground and slid to safety “just as the drill stem was ejected from the well”^[4]. They were left to watch the derrick collapse, save “a small section, which was held up by the guy wires”^[4]. For the remainder of the day, the rig crew was resigned to leave the well to continue blowout and evaluate the remaining equipment.

A geyser of fluids bursting of the destroyed derrick of the Murphy No. 1 well

(image credit: The Arkansas Gazette^[5])

The next day, the well continued to blowout with no hope of controlling it^[6], releasing an initial estimate of 65 Mmcf/d (million cubic feet per day) to 75 Mmcf/d of dry gas, but was later estimated at nearly 100 Mmcf/d^[2,4,6,7]. This new petroleum field was named the El Dorado North Pool and attracted sudden interest in the industry and among the local residents. The road leading to the well, touted as “the best road in the county”^[2] was “lined with cars all day and hundreds visited the scene”^[6]. Unlike the Constantine Hill No. 1 well from two years prior, this well was not blowing water, only gas, dust, and rocks. One reporter said that “for several miles around the well the ground is covered with a fine slate-colored dust” and on several occasions, head-sized stones were ejected from the well^[6]. There was a concern “that before morning the wind will change or the atmosphere will become more dense, causing the gas to hug the ground and that the big well will be ignited”^[6]. However, the unexpected problems of “craters” was a sudden concern, reminiscent of the Hill No. 1 well, becoming even more of a spectacle for the locals, who even set up refreshment stands near the crater^[1]. One witness said, “when I first saw this crater…I thought the devil was coming. I thought the Lord was trying to tell us something in a big way. It was just bubbling and carrying on terrible”^[1]. At around seven or eight o’clock that evening^[4,6], “several visitors were standing on the brink of the biggest geyser”^[6], just “[o]ne of the numerous craters which sprung up about 200 yards [north] from the wild Anderson-Murphy gasser”^[6]. Five minutes later, the gas ignited from friction, “setting fire to several other similar craters in the immediate vicinity” and “[a]t 10 o’clock there were half a dozen craters all nearly connected, throwing burning gas as high as 100 feet in the air”^[4,6]. Fortunately, those standing nearby escaped unharmed^[6].

The next morning, on May 16, the situation was not improving. A 200-foot diameter crater formed nearby, “numerous geysers [were] forming on all sides of the well,” and “[t]he roar of the flames [could] be heard for miles”^[4]. “[S]hortly after 5 o’clock” in the morning, the well ignited “from the surrounding small craters”^[8]. Estimates of the amount of gas released increased from 100 MMcf/d to about 150 Mmcf/d^[8]. The flames were reaching about 300 feet into the air and “several miles around was almost as light as day”^[8]. A reporter for the Monroe News-Star said that “even though the well is eight miles north of El Dorado, at 12 o’clock last night the blowing could easily be heard from the court house square”^[4]. Local residents said that their water wells were now producing gas and several people “have been compelled to move on account of geysers forming near their homes”^[4]. The rig crew was powerless in controlling the well and was left to hope that either the sand blown out of the well will extinguish it, or the recent caving of the ground around the well will snuff out the fire^[8]. The sand was providing some help in putting out the fire with large sand drifts, at least until a pocket of gas would be released and the blaze would again flare up^[8].

Smoke rising from the raging fire at the Murphy No. 1 well

(image credit: Arkansas Museum of Natural Resources via Nat’l Register Application Form^[1])

Hope was restored the following day, when caving around the craters nearly extinguished the fires^[7]. The largest crater, “possibly 350 feet across”^[9], would release gas and re-ignite several times, and about a dozen other craters in the vicinity were erupting mud and gas^[9]. It was thought “that all craters will be dead before morning”^[9], however, the crater wouldn’t go so quietly. The boiler used for the Murphy No. 1 “topplled (sic) into the crater and [was] spinning around in the hole like a top”^[10]. Dust and rocks continued to erupt sporadically over the next few days, even “blowing at intervals of 20 minutes”^[11], but was said to be “growing weaker”^[11,12]. During this time, oilfield workers and representatives of oil and gas companies arrived on each train that stopped in El Dorado and Norphlet crowding the hotels^[5]. Deals for lease acreage to drill more oil and gas wells were being made constantly including “at least four wells…in the vicinity” of the Murphy No. 1^[13]. Lease deals went for premium prices that approached $200 per acre (appx. $3,070 in 2019)^[14], while real estate deals in Norphlet also fetched prices not before seen in what was described as “one of the quietest [towns] in the county”^[15]. A store was reported to charge rent at $150 per month, a significant increase from the $7 per month it used to charge^[15]. New buildings, temporary and permanent, were being raised all around town to accommodate the boom in business^[15].

Giant crater from the Murphy No. 1 well

(image credit: Arkansas Geological Survey)

At about two o’clock on May 22, friction once again ignited the gas in the largest crater while ejecting water, mud, gas, rocks, and even “oil in considerable quantities”^[14]. Spectators standing nearby escaped injury, although two bystanders had their hair singed^[14]. The fire was extinguished early on the morning of May 25, but stubbornly re-ignited^[16]. At this point, the state of Arkansas was starting to get involved in the situation and it was reported that it was probable “that the state will be forced to take over”^[16]. Concerns were also raised about the expanding crater approaching a nearby African-American cemetery that dated back to the 1840s (presumably Hicks Cemetery), putting graves at risk of collapsing into the crater^[15].

On May 30, the giant crater was continuing to spew gas and rocks, “but is nearly dead”^[17]. At least that was what they continued to hope for. On June 19, the newspaper stated that it was still “blowing strong and occasionally throwing mud high into the air…When the crater makes a heavy spurt and tons of mud are thrown into the air, the impact of the mud striking the bottom of the crater shakes the ground for several hundred feet. Caving continues, but not as frequently as at first”^[18].

While the Murphy No. 1 was running wild and ablaze, the Oil Operators Trust Company drafted plans to drill a second well nearby, the Murphy No. 2 (three-eighths of a mile southwest of Murphy No. 1 in Sec. 8, T.16S., R.15W.), also drilled by the same contractor, John L. Anderson^[19]. At five o’clock in the afternoon on June 21, the well was drilled to a depth of 890 feet (12.5-inch surface casing was set at 600 feet) and, like a recurring nightmare, they were hit with a gas kick. Gas and sand were shot out of the derrick like a geyser, going 75 feet higher than then derrick^[19]. There was deep concern that the derrick was again being damaged^[19], but the drillers thought the derrick could withstand the punishment^[20]. Two nights later, a 15-foot wide crater developed around the Murphy No. 2 well, although sand plugged off the well, it “may break out again at any time”^[21].

On June 26, the Murphy No. 1 geyser died off, but at the same time, the Murphy No. 2 came to life. The blowout from the No. 2 well was reported “to rival the No. 1 crater” with an ever-growing 50-foot wide crater^[22]. Two days later, the Murphy No. 2 geyser caught fire “either by lightning or friction, during an electric and rain storm this afternoon, and is burning with apparently greater brilliance than the first crater”^[23]. The No. 2 well continued to be problematic for the operators for several weeks as a “veritable mud volcano”^[24], eventually the fire was extinguished, but it continued to erupt mud and gas well into November^[25]. Throughout this entire ordeal, the Oil Operators’ Trust Company had hoped to salvage a productive well, however, they reluctantly announced on July 11 that the No. 1 well had lost “five or six billion cubic feet of gas” and was going to be abandoned “as a vast crater surrounds the spot” that spouted gas^[26].

The Norphlet Crater as seen today. A glimmer of water at the bottom of the crater can be seen through the overgrown vegetation (image credit: Wikimedia)

Today, the giant crater is overgrown with vegetation and a small pond at the bottom collects oil that seeps to the surface^[1]. The rim of the crater is surrounded by a chain link fence along Firetower Rd., ¾ mile north of the Baugh St. junction (GPS coordinates: 33.341538, -92.668666; Google Maps link)^[1]. The site is owned by the county and was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 2008^[1]. The Oil Operators’ Trust Company and other oil companies drilled several other wells in the area. Some were problematic and experienced blowouts, and some rare ones caught fire, but they largely went according to plan and were productive. The Norphlet Dome is not actively produced today, but several other oil and gas fields, collectively known as the Smackover Field, in Union County continue to be productive. In 1923, the Arkansas Geological Survey was re-established in response to the expansion of the oil and gas industry in Arkansas. In 1939, the Arkansas Oil and Gas Commission was formed to regulate the oil and gas industry, including prevention of wasted gas and local disruptions such as what was experienced from the Murphy No. 1 well^[1].