About Easter Island
Excerpted from Big Stone Head: Easter Island
and Pop Culture, by James Teitelbaum.
©2009 James Teitelbaum
Rapa Nui (Easter Island) was formed when three volcanoes - Poike,
Rano Kau, and
Terevaka - merged together, creating a landmass between them. The
oldest of the three, Poike, is about three million years old, while the
newest and largest - Terevaka - rose from the South East Pacific
Plateau about 100,000 years ago. Other volcanic features make up
the landscape, including lava tubes, caves, the crater Rano Raraku, and
the cinder cone Puna Pau.
The best guess we have about when Rapa Nui was settled is about 400
a.d. According to legend and lore, the settlers were led by one
Hotu Matu’a. They came from what is now known as French
Polynesia, probably the vicinity of the Marquesas islands and more
specifically from the island of Mangareva. Theories about a
South American origin for the Rapanui people were finally disproved
definitively after Erika Hagelber’s 1994 DNA study of twelve ancient
Easter Island skeletons.
Hotu Matu’a must have been some great navigator: Easter Island is a
tiny, tiny speck of land, some 64 square miles in size. It is in
the middle of nowhere. It is the most remote inhabited spot in
the world, bar none. When Jacob Roggeveen came across it, the
inhabitants had been completely isolated for 1,300 years (assuming a
colonization date of 400 a.d.), and were completely unaware that there
were any other people in the world. If you were standing on the
slopes of Ranu Raraku, you would be about 2,300 miles (3,701 km) west
of the Chilean coast, about 1,260 miles (2,027 km) southeast of
Pitcairn, the nearest inhabited landmass (home of the descendants of
the HMS Bounty), 3,700 miles (5,955 km) from freezing Antarctica, 4,300
miles (6,920 km) southeast of Hawai’i, and 2,515 miles (4,050 km) from
Tahiti.
I wouldn’t try to swim it, if I were you.
And in a canoe?
That’s how Hotu Matu’a did it.
Matu’a set off with a small fleet on a voyage of discovery and
colonization. How many others before him tried and failed - or
tried and died? Had the ragtag fleet changed their course by a
single degree, or less, they would have sailed right past their new
home. Landing at the next landmass in their path - South America
- entailed spending several weeks further at sea, in the unlikely event
that the mariners lived that long, or that their vessels remained
seaworthy. However, these people were expert sailors, reading the
waves, observing the stars, following the birds. They knew what
they were doing. The small fleet of Hotu Matu’a carried chickens,
seeds, and women, everything the settlers needed to start over on their
new island paradise. Still, these provisions could not have been
without limit, and the travelers could not have been in very good shape
when land was miraculously sighted. After what must have been
four to six weeks at sea, they landed at Anakena beach, the only sand
beach on the island. The rest of the shore is made up of jagged
rocky volcanic cliffs.
Somehow they managed to survive and prosper. The early history of
this island seems rather uneventful (perhaps they were resting up from
the arduous journey!) but a few centuries after landing at Anakena
beach, the settlers - who never advanced technologically beyond the
stone age, inventing neither metals nor the wheel - began to carve the
moai in tribute to the greatest of their deceased clan leaders.
Over a period of at least six hundred years, peaking somewhere between
1200 a.d. and 1500 a.d., the moai were carved from the volcanic tuff of
Rano Raraku. The vast majority of the moai were coaxed from the
southwest side of the Rano Raraku crater with stone axes and a lot of
hard work. They were set upright on the hillside just yards from
the quarry, where the carving on their backs was completed. At
last they were dragged across the island to their ahu. After
being erected on the ahu, their eye sockets were carved out, and their
eyes installed. Only then were they considered to be alive, and
imbued with their spiritual power. The moai were also called aringa
ora, or “living faces”, since each represented a particular
ancestor. Completed moai - placed upon their ahu and with eyes
and pukao installed - embodied the spirit of the ancestor, and were
named after that ancestor, whose mana protected his land and his
family. The great ahus were also unmistakable markers defining a
clan’s territory. The moai building became a feverish obsession
for the Rapanui, with each clan competing to outdo each other, not
unlike Egyptian Pharoahs each striving to make a pyramid bigger than
his predecessor’s. The idea of keeping up with the Joneses, of
living beyond one’s means to give an impression that one’s clan is more
wealthy or more powerful than their neighbor is a concept that was
understood just fine by this society, who believed that they were the
only people on Earth.
All of this toil wasn’t completed without a heavy cost to the people
and to the ecosystem, however. The deforestation of this paradise
began sometime before the year 800 a.d., or a few centuries after the
settlement of Easter Island. The growing Easter Island
population, which may have maxed out at as many as 20,000 people by a
millennia after Hotu Matu’a’s landing, had a large need for resources
that their island just couldn’t sustain. Wood was needed to make
canoes, to move moai, to build homes, and to burn for warmth and
cooking. Rats and birds consumed seeds and were in turn killed
for food. The vital palm trees were gone by about 1400 a.d., a
victim of the moai builders’ insatiable need for timber. The lack
of trees also meant soil erosion, which in turn made growing crops more
difficult. Wind and rain took their toll on the soil without the
grass, shrubs, and trees to keep the soil system stable. By the
end of the fifteenth century, the forest was more or less gone.
The hauhau tree dwindled in numbers, and the toromiro tree, a source of
a good, useful, hard wood, finally became extinct just after
Heyerdahl’s mid-twentieth century visits.
©2009 James Teitelbaum