Easter Island
I was solo on Easter Island for a week in their winter and it is very much the low season. The island was empty, which I loved as it was magical being there when it was so quiet. I rented a 4x4 Suzuki and spent my mornings and evenings exploring different parts of the island, chasing the soft light of sunrise and sunset.
On my first morning with the car, I woke up long before sunrise and drove in the direction of Ahu Tongariki – the famous grouping of 15 large moai statues. Mind you, there was no cell service at this time on the island and there definitely was not GPS in my car. I calculated the drive was going to be 45 minutes east and I was pretty sure I was driving east… until about 30-minutes into the drive, I was now on a dirt road and I wasn’t sure if I was going the right direction. At one point, I pulled over, it was pitch black and the only light was my headlights, and I got out of the car and tried to figure out if the waves were crashing on the coastline to the right or left of my car. It was so incredibly windy, it was hard to tell. But, I figured I’d take my chances and if I was wrong, then I would try again the next day and drive the other direction. I determined the waves were crashing on the right of my car, which meant I was driving east, in the correct direction towards Ahu Tongariki.
I had no idea if I’d arrived or not but all of a sudden, I saw a tiny little wooden sign on the side of the road that said “Ahu Tongariki”. I couldn’t see anything at all – I tried to make out if I saw any moai in the horizon, but it was the blackest of black skies and sheer darkness. I never felt more incredibly alone – just me standing here in complete darkness on a little island in the Pacific Ocean, 2,300 off the coast of Chile and 1,300 miles from the next nearest island. It was incredibly freeing and also a little bit terrifying. But, I took my chances and grabbed my camera, my tripod set out walking towards the coastline – not able to see a single thing. It is at this moment that I realized I should’ve packed a headlamp…
The waves started to get closer and closer and for fear of stepping straight into the ocean, I just planted myself down on the ground, it felt like there was grass… I still couldn’t see anything. I thought that perhaps I left a “little” too early in the middle of the night for sunrise. I wanted to be sure I captured the very first glimpse of light, so there was this huge time gap I added in to make sure I accounted for maybe getting lost, walking to the statues, etc. I used this time to get my camera settings just right – set up my tripod and just waited…
All of a sudden, just as the first glimmer of sunlight was coming over the horizon, I heard a rustling sound. Almost like the sound of animals running quickly. I was terrified, but also I felt so calm and at peace. I got my camera ready to go and as the light continued to rise over the horizon, what emerged were all of these beautiful wild horses galloping in front of Ahu Tongariki. Everything came into view at once – the horses, the 15 moai of Ahu Tongariki, the ocean… It was the most beautiful sight I’ve seen in my life. I prayed that I had my camera settings right as this moment could never be repeated. It was absolutely surreal – like a gift to me from the heavens.
I spent hours at this site, totally immersed in its unbelievable mystery, wonder, and beauty. I stayed there until the first tour group arrived and until the golden hour had passed. Even years later, this was a moment for me that was so moving and magical that I often reflect back on it when needing peace and comfort in the world. After a week alone on Easter Island I left feeling refreshed, inspired, and invigorated. I refer to Easter Island as the meditation I didn’t know I had until I left. My time there is so meaningful to me as a photographer and as a human being.
Here’s a sampling of some of my images from this moment in time.
