Easter island, the most remote, habitable island in the world.
"Rapa Nui’s mysterious moai statues stand in silence but speak volumes about the achievements of their creators. The stone blocks, carved into head-and-torso figures, average 13 feet (4 meters) tall and 14 tons. The effort to construct these monuments and move them around the island must have been considerable—but no one knows exactly why the Rapa Nui people undertook such a task. Most scholars suspect that the moai were created to honor ancestors, chiefs, or other important personages, However, no written and little oral history exists on the island, so it’s impossible to be certain."
-National Geographic
On the four and a half hour plane ride from mainland Chile to the speck in the Pacific called Rapa Nui, ones mind can't help but wonder what's to come. Joe and I had seen only photos of the giant heads before and I had read some about the islands history, mostly about its society's demise due to environmental reasons, but beyond this we knew nothing more. We knew not about the feelings of awe and confusion we would experience while looking up at the giant statues. We knew not about how they were made and knew nothing about how they were transferred. We knew nothing about the size of the island, the nature of its locals, or what there was to do, and with this lack of pre-conceived notions- we were in the perfect situation to be absolutely blown away.
For our first day on the island, we rented some rusty bikes and hit the road with a map lacking any detail, to say the least. We rode under the Eucalyptus trees, along the countryside road and over the island completely to the other side. We parked our bikes at the entrance to our first Moai, and walked on the white sandy beach towards the brilliant blue water. The heads stood in a line, their backs to the water, all wearing slightly different expressions. One had a Pukao, the stone hat (usually around 8 tons) that's sits atop their heads. This was only the start to a week of wandering.
From there we continued in a loop along the coast, baking in the harsh sun light. The feeling of awe and curiosity only seemed to amplify as the day went on. At one site, there were fifteen statues standing in a line, enormous in their presence. We kneeled at their base in silence as I shifted focus from face to face, discovering the differences of each individual.
The next site, Rano Raraku, was the stone quarry in the crater of the volcano where the rocks were carved from the ground then transported to the rest of the island. It was fascinating to see the origin of the gigantic creations and somewhat uncomfortable- noticing the dozens of statues still in the rock, left behind almost as abruptly as the culture that died off with them.
We finished our 30-mile bike tour with one last hill and a downhill cruise into town as the sun began to turn orange. Complete with a gourmet seafood meal watching the waves and sunset, we were all smiles and sufficiently tired for a good nights rest.
Throughout our week on the island, we experienced no lack of adventure. One day we hiked to the nearby volcano of Orongo. At the top we were rewarded with a view down into the lush protected environment inside the volcano. we walked to the edge of the rim where the 300ft cliffs dropped down straight to the crashing ocean waves below.
We walked around the short houses with small entrances, several feet of stacked shale rocks. The houses used to hold the indigenous people during their annual bird man festival; a ceremony where the men would paddle across the open water to the nearby islet on a palm trunk and wait for the sea birds to come. The one to collect the first egg of the head was pronounced bird man, or tangata-manu and would have special rights and privileges throughout the year.
One day we took our bikes back out and ended up riding up a dirt road to the top of the tallest volcano on the island. Our tired legs were well worth the 360 view atop and the adrenaline of riding down, alongside the horses and soft grass. Thanks to the detail of our wonderful map, it was inevitably so that we got lost. Check.
The last bike stop for the day was Las Cavernas, the lava tube caves where the Rapa Nui people grew pants, lived, and hid out during times of war. The caverns were huge and seemingly infinite. From one room to another, we wandered around with our flashlights and occasionally stumbled upon a cliff lookout to the sea. We found one hidden lava tube and were forced to crawl on our stomachs to pass. Unknowing what was ahead, we were dumbfounded with the view once we reached the light at the end of the tunnel.
Our last day on the island was spent trying to catch the waves while simultaneously trying not to scrape the bottom, the sharp coral-covered bottom. We paddled through the warm salty water and enjoyed our last hours in the whimsical place we were.
Easter Island by far surpassed any and all expectations I had. It was much more than simply big stone heads and torsos.
"Rapa Nui’s mysterious moai statues stand in silence but speak volumes about the achievements of their creators. The stone blocks, carved into head-and-torso figures, average 13 feet (4 meters) tall and 14 tons. The effort to construct these monuments and move them around the island must have been considerable—but no one knows exactly why the Rapa Nui people undertook such a task. Most scholars suspect that the moai were created to honor ancestors, chiefs, or other important personages, However, no written and little oral history exists on the island, so it’s impossible to be certain."
-National Geographic
On the four and a half hour plane ride from mainland Chile to the speck in the Pacific called Rapa Nui, ones mind can't help but wonder what's to come. Joe and I had seen only photos of the giant heads before and I had read some about the islands history, mostly about its society's demise due to environmental reasons, but beyond this we knew nothing more. We knew not about the feelings of awe and confusion we would experience while looking up at the giant statues. We knew not about how they were made and knew nothing about how they were transferred. We knew nothing about the size of the island, the nature of its locals, or what there was to do, and with this lack of pre-conceived notions- we were in the perfect situation to be absolutely blown away.
For our first day on the island, we rented some rusty bikes and hit the road with a map lacking any detail, to say the least. We rode under the Eucalyptus trees, along the countryside road and over the island completely to the other side. We parked our bikes at the entrance to our first Moai, and walked on the white sandy beach towards the brilliant blue water. The heads stood in a line, their backs to the water, all wearing slightly different expressions. One had a Pukao, the stone hat (usually around 8 tons) that's sits atop their heads. This was only the start to a week of wandering.
From there we continued in a loop along the coast, baking in the harsh sun light. The feeling of awe and curiosity only seemed to amplify as the day went on. At one site, there were fifteen statues standing in a line, enormous in their presence. We kneeled at their base in silence as I shifted focus from face to face, discovering the differences of each individual.
The next site, Rano Raraku, was the stone quarry in the crater of the volcano where the rocks were carved from the ground then transported to the rest of the island. It was fascinating to see the origin of the gigantic creations and somewhat uncomfortable- noticing the dozens of statues still in the rock, left behind almost as abruptly as the culture that died off with them.
We finished our 30-mile bike tour with one last hill and a downhill cruise into town as the sun began to turn orange. Complete with a gourmet seafood meal watching the waves and sunset, we were all smiles and sufficiently tired for a good nights rest.
Throughout our week on the island, we experienced no lack of adventure. One day we hiked to the nearby volcano of Orongo. At the top we were rewarded with a view down into the lush protected environment inside the volcano. we walked to the edge of the rim where the 300ft cliffs dropped down straight to the crashing ocean waves below.
We walked around the short houses with small entrances, several feet of stacked shale rocks. The houses used to hold the indigenous people during their annual bird man festival; a ceremony where the men would paddle across the open water to the nearby islet on a palm trunk and wait for the sea birds to come. The one to collect the first egg of the head was pronounced bird man, or tangata-manu and would have special rights and privileges throughout the year.
One day we took our bikes back out and ended up riding up a dirt road to the top of the tallest volcano on the island. Our tired legs were well worth the 360 view atop and the adrenaline of riding down, alongside the horses and soft grass. Thanks to the detail of our wonderful map, it was inevitably so that we got lost. Check.
The last bike stop for the day was Las Cavernas, the lava tube caves where the Rapa Nui people grew pants, lived, and hid out during times of war. The caverns were huge and seemingly infinite. From one room to another, we wandered around with our flashlights and occasionally stumbled upon a cliff lookout to the sea. We found one hidden lava tube and were forced to crawl on our stomachs to pass. Unknowing what was ahead, we were dumbfounded with the view once we reached the light at the end of the tunnel.
Our last day on the island was spent trying to catch the waves while simultaneously trying not to scrape the bottom, the sharp coral-covered bottom. We paddled through the warm salty water and enjoyed our last hours in the whimsical place we were.
Easter Island by far surpassed any and all expectations I had. It was much more than simply big stone heads and torsos.
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