Travels

 

Moai at Sunrise 

The aged Suzuki 4×4 squeaked and groaned as we made our way down the rutted dirt road along the south coast of Easter Island. We could hear its every mechanical complaint through the open windows we had left down to avoid suffocating in the afternoon heat. The fine red island dust sifted in through the open windows.

We rounded a final corner and blinked, almost in disbelief, at the 15 giant stone moai’s of Ahu Tongariki lined up shoulder to shoulder, their backs to the startlingly blue water, staring through time towards the centre of the island. It was hard to believe that people without modern machinery could cut and move these enormous rock statues. It was equally hard to understand how the same people had the time and resources to devote to these megalithic megaprojects on an island which today is covered with little more than thistles, and grasses so coarse that even the horses are skinny.

 

Ahu Tongariki 

 

Ahu Tongariki from Rano Raraku 
 

Moai’s, Ahu Tongariki 
 

When the first Europeans arrived in the 1700’s they wondered the same thing: How did the relatively small number of impoverished people they found on the treeless Easter Island pull it off?

 

Ahu Tahai and Ahu Ko Te Riku 
 

The answer is, they didn’t. But their ancestors did. By the time the Dutch expedition led by Jacob Roggeveen “discovered” the island on Easter Sunday, 1722, the Easter Islanders themselves had lost the knowledge of why and how the statues were made, and how the massive statues were transported from the nursery at the extinct volcano of Rano Raraku to the various sites all around the island.

 

Ahu Vai Uri, Hanga Roa in the Background 
 

What seems to have happened on Easter Island is a precautionary tale for all of us. Easter Island may be the most isolated habitable place on earth. It lies some 3300 km off the coast of South America, and its nearest inhabited neighbour is Pitcairn Island, more than 2000 km away. When the first Polynesians arrived in about 400 A.D. they found an island covered with a subtropical forest, and with abundant plant and animal life. Over the next several hundred years the people flourished, and had sufficient time and resources to build, transport, and erect some 200 stones moai’s–some as tall as 33 feet and weighing over 80 tons–that are found at ahu’s (ceremonial sites) along the island’s coastline. (Hundreds of other statues lie in various stages of production, or lie along what seem to be ceremonial roads. The largest unfinished moai is some 65 ft long, and is estimated to weigh 270 tons.)

 

 

Ahu A Kivi 
 

But they were too successful. Eventually they managed to cut down all the forests. With the forests went most of the island’s plants and animals. Without trees, the islanders could no longer make the large canoes they needed to fish far from shore, and to hunt the porpoises that provided a large part of their diet.

As the island’s environment collapsed, the people divided up into warring factions and fought with one another. Chaos reigned, and the islanders resorted to desperate measures, including cannibalism to survive. New religious and ceremonial practices were developed, most notably the bird cult that seems to have been a somewhat desperate attempt to restore the island’s fertility.

 

Petroglyphs at the Orogono Ceremonial Village with the Islands of Motu Kao Kao, Motu Iti, and Motu Nui in the Background. These were all associated with the Bird Cult. 

 

When the first Europeans visited the island (Roggeveen in 1722, James Cook in 1774, and the French captain Lapérouse in 1786), most of the moai’s still stood. By the time Chile annexed the island in 1888, all of the moai’s had been toppled, victims of earthquake, tsunami, and intertribal warfare. The moai’s that are standing today have been recently restored. (The moai’s that were still in the “nursery”, both completed and partially finished, seem to have escaped the fate of those at the completed ahu’s on the coast.)
 

 

Ahu A Kivi 
 

Cathy and Fallen Moai 

 

Our Suzuki died on the way home. We “traded it in” for a Daihatsu with air conditioning, and far fewer years on its clock, and spent much of our week on the island driving the back roads, and poking around the ancient sites. (The Suzuki didn’t actually have many kilometres on it but then, how far can you drive on an island that’s only 180 km² in size?)

When we started looking carefully, we were amazed by how many ahu’s and moai’s there were around the island. In some places, there were major ceremonial sites every couple of hundred metres along the coast. As they’d say in Newfoundland, “the place is maggoty with ‘em.”
 

 

Ahu at Anakena 
 

Detail, Moai at Anakena 

The restored moai’s are magnificent, and the fallen moai’s poignant, but the most enigmatic place is surely the nursery at Rano Raraku. Here completed, but not yet moved statues stand looking out to sea, while partially completed, or barely started statues lay half buried in the ground staring at the sky. Some statues are buried up to their necks. In other places, perhaps just a nose pokes above the ground. In yet other places, four, five, or even more statues in various stages of carving lie intertwined in an intricate dance with one another.

 

The Outer Side of the Nursery at Rano Raraku. Many Moai’s are Visible. 
 

Moai, Rano Raraku 

 

Partially Completed Moai in the Nursery Area Inside Rano Raraku  

 

 

“Twins”, Rano Raraku 

A few people visited the nursery in the daytime but, by the late afternoon, most everyone would be gone, and we would have the place to ourselves. Until darkness drove us back to the car, we enjoyed the company of these mute stone sentinels with their wry, inscrutable smiles, and wondered after all that had transpired since they were young.

 

Cathy at Rano Raraku 

Easter Island isn’t all cobwebs and ancient history. The water surrounding the island is remarkably clear, and a magnet for divers and snorkelers. When the conditions are right, local surfers paddle out and play in the waves.

 

Anakena Beach 

 

There is some good food here as well. In a small restaurant overlooking Pea Harbour in the main town of Hanga Roa, a dour Frenchman, who resembles the cartoon character Obelix, sits and oversees the happenings in his tiny establishment that serves some of the best food we’ve had on our travels. The fish was excellent, and the chocolate mabré divine.

 

Restaurant, Pea Harbour, Hanga Roa 

Just don’t expect to taste the wine—“It’s good!” he scowled. (Thank god it wasn’t corked.)

And be careful what you ask for. I don’t know what the couple at the next table wanted but, in an indignant voice, the owner told them, “If you want fast food, you’ll have to go somewhere else!” They did.

 

Moai at Sunset