On my last night on Isla de Pasqua (Easter Island) I enjoyed an excellent pescado de pimiento dinner complete with ensalada grande, pisco sours and some of the wonderful local bread and featuring one of the many spectacular views of the rugged, volcanic rock island coastline. The picture shows this with a large wooden carved tuna in the foreground and the traditional (if now fiberglass) Polynesian outrigger canoes paddling by in the background. While it seems unlikely that a single choice of a picture summarizing my two weeks on the island would not include an image of the ubiquitous Easter Island carved stone statues known as Moia’s, it does actually reflect that which I found most engaging – the sea, the people and the culture.

And they are all amazingly engaging.

First, it should be known that Easter Island was discovered by tourists a long time ago. The runway at the island airport was lengthened by the US some years ago to be suitable as an emergency landing site for the space shuttle. This, in the past, allowed even French Concorde’s to land there and is easily long enough for the LAN Boeing 787 which arrives daily – one day enroute from Santiago to Tahiti and the next Tahiti to Santiago. The island breathes in (and out) a moderate number of tourists every day, absorbs them easily and has not, as yet, been ruined by them. The Rapa Nui and Chileans of the island are uniformly pleasant, welcoming and helpful. There was a small cruise ship which arrived during our stay there but this is very infrequent and will, hopefully, remain so. Cruise ships have destroyed so many wonderfully unique and pleasant islands in the world (my opinion – but not without factual basis).

A few examples of my interactions with the Rapa Nui:

On a long hike from the northern heritage site/beach, Anakena, to the main town, Hanga Roa, my sea-weakened legs (with tender feet unaccustomed to shoes and walking) had me dragging a bit when I came across a young Rapa Nui couple having a picnic in a roadside, palm frond shaded shelter. He was a park ranger taking a lunch break, his horse tethered nearby, and she had ridden her scooter out to meet him. We quickly found our way through language difficulties, found common interests and they offered a seat for some rest and a sandwich and bottle of juice as refreshment. They told me much about them and their island. I met him again on a future exploration (by bike this time) and was greeted as an old friend.

Gill and I were on a quest to find a supply of propane – Romano did not have sufficient on board to reach Tahiti. Getting our bottles filled was not possible on the island. We found ourselves standing on the side of the road in front of a construction company, with the stereotypical befuddled tourist look on our faces. We had somehow missed the place to which we had been given directions. Seeing us there, Veronica came out of the office, quickly understood what we were trying to do and tried to give us instructions. With our faces continuing to look baffled, she simply held up five fingers, said “cinco minutos” and walked off. Returning 4 minutes later driving her car, she drove us to the “warehouse store” that we had missed, helped us connect with the manager of the facility who soon had us sorted out. We needed to measure the anchor locker space on Romano before purchasing a cylinder so could not do so that day. Veronica offered to help us whenever we were ready.

As it turned out, we did not need to bother Veronica when by the middle of the following week we returned to the warehouse to get the heavy and very bulky cylinder. By then we knew that these things could be easily handled. We bought the cylinder, regulator and hose required (along with 40 liters of UHT milk) and asked the first person we saw loading a pickup truck if we could get a ride to the harbor. “Si Claro!” he immediately said and later, back at the dinghy dock, would not take the money that we offered him.

These few examples and their ready smiles and laughs say much about the Rapa Nui.

My two weeks on the island were filled with hiking and biking, exploring the heritage sites with their amazing Moia’s, climbing to the rims of the volcanos that originally formed the island and enjoying the beautiful views into their marshy craters.

The island has also been discovered by yachties. We were told that there are 15-20 boats that arrive each year. There were four there when we arrived, one based locally, as well as Swedish, Dutch and French boats (the three latter had all rounded Cape Horn). Canadian and American boats showed up two days later which, added to Romano’s British registry made for a truly international crowd. A cruiser’s beach barbeque on Easter Sunday was a highlight of my time on the island. The Cape Horner’s had amazing stories to tell. Our own passage was far too easy by comparison – good though!

Boat stores continued to provide most meals but the depleted supplies of fruit and vegies were quickly restored. On shore there was cold beer, empanadas, good coffee and an all too tempting Gelateria (ice cream store) next to the dinghy dock. I have become a big fan of the baked Chilean empanadas (there are deep fried versions as well) – pollo y queso, de horno (beef with egg and olive – Cuidate! They don’t pit the olives.) y otros.

Our two weeks in Easter Island were wonderful in all regards.

As I type this, I am sitting in a pleasant Hostal in Puerto Varas, Chile, on the northern edge of Patagonia. I am, unfortunately, not in a boat headed towards Tahiti. Leaving Romano was not an easy choice to make. In all of the more adventurous endeavors of my life (both BB, before boat, and AB, after boat) I have followed the mantra that risk should be carefully considered and eliminated, if possible, or at least minimized if not. Risk that cannot be controlled, must be understood fully and if found to be acceptable the adventure can continue.

A week ago, I reached the point where a significant risk could not meet that final criteria – not understood, it could not be accepted. My South Pacific adventure had to end in Easter Island – something that I will always regret deeply.

It is still “mud season” in the mountains of Colorado and I am, therefore, in no hurry to get there. I am in Chile and will wander about with no cohesive plan for the next few weeks, seeing new places and meeting many new and cool people.

My few days in the big city of Santiago have already borne fruit in both respects and there are stories to tell.

I will tell them in future posts.

Best to all.