Nothing can prepare you for a place like this—a tiny speck of land that
sits in the middle of the South Pacific and is a 5-hour plane ride from
anywhere else on Earth. Green grass volcanic craters rise up from low-lying
hills covered with millions of basalt lava rocks rounded with time. Several
volcanic explosions left this island littered with black debris. The
terrain looks inviting, but to walk across it is nearly impossible. The
stones cripple you with their large marble-like shapes: better to stick to
the dirt roads, which are now soupy from a week of rain.
We left Boston on Easter Sunday to travel to the island which was named
"Easter" on this very day back in 1722, by a Dutchman who was the first
European to sail here. The islanders call their home "Rapa Nui," which some
locals say means "big barren land." Surf pounds the black rock coastline
and breathtaking views from the hills above inevitably draw your eye toward
the flat infinite horizon, beyond which the so-called "rest of the world"
We're here to learn how the ancient Easter Islanders moved and raised the
many-ton statues of human heads, called "moai," all over the island. Most
lie on the ground, either abandoned in mid-transit, or pushed over by time,
weather, and early islanders caught up in regional warfare. Everyone here
has a theory on how the moai were moved and raised, and no two theories are
alike. Some are based on archaeological evidence and others come from the
heart. We'll be here a month and I'm already convinced we'll just barely
scratch the surface of this great island in our quest to find methods that
are viable possibilities. We welcome all theories, but will only have time
to try out a few.
With a team of Chilean, American, and Rapanui archaeologists, along with a
large sampling of the island community (there are 2,000 in all), we will
move and erect a 15-ton replica moai. The challenge is
to limit ourselves to the same materials used by the early islanders: wood,
rope, human power, and maybe sweet potatoes or bananas for lubrication.
Every day spent here raises more questions; were the moai transported lying
down or standing up? If lying down, were they face up or down? Head first
or base first? Were they dragged, rocked, or rolled? Did they approach the
platforms from the front or from behind? We'll be here a month, and I tend
to think the secrets of this island will remain locked behind the silent
gaze of these stone monuments—well beyond our departure. "But, let them
have been made and put up, by this or any other method," wrote Captain
James Cook when he visited Easter Island and theorized on how the moai were
moved and raised, for "they must have been a work of immense time, and
sufficiently show the ingenuity and perseverance of the islanders in the
age in which they were built."