Meeting the Moai

Moai with topknots 

While I've been looking forward to my entire South American adventure, our visit to Easter Island is what drove the trip for me. I'm happy to report that this is one instance in which my expectations were exceeded. To see pictures of moai created centuries ago by the Rapa Nui people is one thing. To see them in person is something else entirely. Hearing the stories behind their creation made the experience even more powerful. 

Most of the moai are situated on ahu (stone platforms) with stones on the ground in front of them. This is because they are burial sites for the king or chief of a tribe and other important people. To have a moai erected in your honor showed status and mana (or power). The homes closest to a tribe’s moai were reserved for the next chief and his family. The people responsible for tasks like growing the crops and cooking the food lived further away from the ahu. With only one exception, the moai face in to the island and their communities. They provided protection for their people.

Quarry with 66' moai waiting to be moved

We visited the quarry where the moai were carved. Using tools made from basalt, four+ workers would spend several months carving a single moai from the volcanic stone. This image shows a moai abandoned in the process of being created. It would have stood 66’ tall. Once the front and sides of a moai had been carved, a tool akin to a boat keel would be used to lever the sculpture out of the mountain. Then another daunting task laid ahead – transporting the moai to its site.

As you can imagine, each moai was extremely heavy. The largest weighs in at more than 50 tons. The Rapa Nui were big and strong people – many men stood 6’ tall  – but still. First, the moai would be oh so carefully slid down the hill. There a vehicle of sorts with a wooden platform and rollers made from the trunks of palm trees awaited. Ropes would be attached to the sculpture from the front and back, and it would be moved onto a wooden bed and pulled into an upright position. The workers would then roll what appeared to be a “Walking Moai” to its site. The island is only 14 miles by 7 miles, but I’m thinking moving a moai even a few yards would have been a massive feat. Still, this herculean task was accomplished hundreds of times. When a moai had been mounted on its platform, the spirit of the deceased connected with his new body.

Only remaining moai with eyes

Not surprisingly, occasionally a moai would take a tumble along the way to its site. Even if the sculpture was not broken in the fall, it would be abandoned. With that, months of effort was undone, only to have to be replicated. The men who carved the sculpture – not those transporting it – would be punished because they had created a moai with bad mana (meaning spirit in this case).

Other broken moai could be found felled near their platforms. These were purposeful acts of destruction. During periods of tribal warfare – a result of overpopulation and a lack of resources – members of a competing tribe would topple the moai of their enemies. It was a serious act of aggression. 

The sculptures vandalized in this way can be identified not only by their proximity to their ahus. Moai that were installed are also identifiable because they have eye sockets. This final carving would be done once the moai had been placed on the platform, and the eyes would then be inserted. With the eyes in place, a moai served as a more true representation of the living face of its ancestor. 

With some of my new friends

Today, there is only one remaining moai on the island with eyes, and those are not original. In 1986, a local man began going to this moai each morning with his ladder, climb up and insert eyes he had made from white and red coral.  In 2000 he agreed the eyes could be permanently affixed due to concerns that his continual placement and removal was damaging the moai. And what about the little hat some of the moai – including our googly-eyed friend – are wearing? It turns out they’re not actually hats, but the pukaos – or topknots -- favored by the Rapa Nui men. 

While seeing a single moai was memorable, the sites where multiple moai had been installed were incredible. We spent one sunset at the site where seven moai stand. The early birds in our group also made a return visit at sunrise to the ahu with the largest collection of moai in one place. There 15 moai proudly stand protecting the island. 

Sunrise with the moai

These sculptures anchored the main square of that community. Only one sports a pukao. All of the moai originally had topknots, but the others were damaged beyond repair in a tsunami in 1960 caused by a 9.5 Richter scale earthquake in Santiago. Aside from that, these moai are in particularly good condition thanks to their restoration in 1992.

As we stood observing the moai as darkness turned to light, they developed personalities I hadn’t seen on our first visit. One appeared angry and vindictive; another seemed benevolent. Looking at them from behind, I noticed that one had Elvis-style bangs. Perhaps my favorite was the moai that appeared to have a white moustache. Someone commented it was like the “Got milk?” ad; another that he reminded them of Colonel Sanders. I wish I had the opportunity to keep visiting and developing my relationship with each of the moai. They exude both mystery and a deep spirituality. Our time on Rapa Nui had come to an end, though, so I will content myself with my memories and my pictures.