On Wednesday the 2nd, an annular eclipse occurred — in which the moon’s shadow blocks enough of the sun that only a ring of light is visible — and Rapa Nui was the only place on land from which the eclipse could be watched. Our group included some serious eclipse-chasers, who set up their telescopes and cameras well ahead of time. I didn’t photograph the event, but it looked (through the right safety glasses) like this:
I was surprised that the world did not go dark: it was as bright throughout the passage of the shadow as if a cloud came across the sun.
In the afternoon, when the sun was back to normal, we saw more moai, this time inland, braving serious wind. Rapa Nui is the epitome of a windswept island.
On Thursday, with some others in our group, I got up early enough for a van ride back out to Tongariki, home of the famous 15 moai, to see the sunrise. Sitting on the slope, looking down in the darkness toward them, was a strangely meditative experience. The sun was far from brilliant, so the morning was not a big win photo-wise, but I enjoyed lying down to look at the Milky Way, then sitting quietly waiting for the sun.
Rapa Nui is very remote. A guy in the group said he had heard that when the International Space Station passes over the island, people here are closer to the astronauts than they are to anyone on earth.
There is no real port on the island, just this harbor. All of the large stuff — every car, truck, boat, all the machinery, etc. — arrives on a cargo ship. It’s all transferred to barges and brought to the harbor.
The MHB Foghorn 