I’m guessing the title has you a little intrigued, but you’ll have to wait for that bit. So day 3 on Easter Island was an early affair. I had signed up for 2 dives that morning, I wasn’t particularly sure what marine life I’d be able to see, but I figured I might as well give it a go while I was there, I mean who knows when or if I’d ever visit again. Deciding to go to the dive shop via the scenic route meant a leisurely stroll by the coast and passing 2 Moai by the dock. The water in the dock was crystal clear, it was like looking through glass. Once I was suited up, the prospect of the clear visibility underwater was making me excited, nothing worse than not being able to see underwater. What I experienced underwater however, was a bit of a let down. I’d read the forums and Tripadviser, and all had warned me that there isn’t much marine life around the island, but I put it down to the lack of larger animals, surely an island would have abundant and varied fish life. Well no, no it does not. The main draw card of the first dive was the underwater Moai that had been sunk for a movie, but there did seem to be some sort of reef structure around it. It was a little bizarre, it was pretty devoid of colour. Imagine a reef with colourful fish, but on a black and white tv. There were a few larger fish happily cruising around, but the main fish were essentially these long skinny fish that seemed to prefer swimming vertically. Occasionally you’d see a black and white version of a yellow tang (that fish from Finding Nemo in the dentist’s office who thought her reflection was her sister). But everything were dull colours. 

While getting snaps of the sunken Moai was cool, I didn’t think the marine life warranted the 2nd dive, and luckily, the dive shop let me cancel it. Finding myself finishing up significantly earlier than planned, I thought I’d go check out a couple of Moai a little further up from the dive shop, near the cemetery. But first I had promised myself an ice cream after my dives after I spied a gelato shop next to the dive shop on my first visit! Feeling adventurous, I opted to go for a flavour made from local fruit. I can’t quite remember the name of the fruit, but if it’s what I’ve spotted growing everywhere on the island, it’s similar to a guava. Ice cream in hand, still wet rashie and board shorts on, I ventured off with my trusty (and highly accurate) map in search for adventure. Yeah, so what started as “let’s just visit the close by Moai”, turned into an impromptu 16km hike in search of more Moai, a spot or 2 of caving, and trespassing on someone’s paddock. By the time I reached the initial Moai I was looking for, I thought, “it’s only 12pm, let’s just keep going”, bear in mind, this was completely unplanned, so I didn’t exactly bring a ton of water. But the weather was amazing, and it was too nice to go back to camp. So earphones in, “The Best of Rhianna” blaring, I was off!
The hike took me along the Easter Island’s dramatic coastline. Gorgeous cliff faces, paddocks full of wild horses, the random dog that would accompany me for periods of time. After a while one Moai kinda just started looking like the last Moai, and while the backdrop was beautiful, I was hoping for something new. Luckily, along the trail, there happened to be a cave that you could explore. Unfortunately it was crowded by some tour group, so I went off to the edge of the cliff to watch the raptor-like birds soaring in the wind. I was surprised to find a guy down the cliff doing a spot of fishing. I had no idea how he managed to get down there, it was a steep cliff, but he had a pretty good set up. The rocky ledge he was standing on, happened to have a natural holding pool that he’d filled with water and could store his fish in, instead of a bucket. I think he was just fishing with bread as bait on a hand line, and he was pretty successful. I watched him count up his catch and he had about 50+ fish. It seemed like a tranquil spot, punctuated by the odd large wave that would crash over his ledge, sending him running to the cliff wall. 

Eventually most of the crowd had left the cave entrance and note, by cave, I mean a hole in the ground that you can climb down, and if you were prepared, a headlamp would’ve been mightily handy. Of course this guy clearly wasn’t, so I used my trusty iPhone torch (which BTW illuminates fuck all) and ventured inside. Mildly concerned about what the fuck I just walked into since it was pitch black, and I didn’t even know where the cave led, I pressed on, and was handsomely rewarded. Eventually sunlight pierced the darkness from 2 tunnels leading to the openings in the cliff wall facing the ocean. It was hard to capture how cool it was to see the ocean appear as you walked down each tunnel, but it was beautiful. 

Emerging from the cave I pressed on in search of the next Moai site, naively thinking it would be a restored site and easy to spot. Think again, it didn’t indicate on the map that the next site was unrestored, so it just had a weathered Moai that had been toppled over, that was also hard to spot from the trail. I found myself most likely trespassing on someone’s paddock and dodging horse poop to get to the site. After finally finding the bloody site, I tried to take a selfie with some of the wild horses, but they were being jerks and refused to play nice. So once again, I was off.

Arriving at the next cave, I was silently praying that the banana trees at the entrance would have some ripe fruit for me to pinch since you know, I didn’t think to bring snacks on my impromptu trek.  No such luck, oh well. This cave had a little more of a traditional opening, but with a less impressive payout. Since it was inland, the cave had a few fire pits that would’ve been used by local tribes back in the day, and there was a part of the cavern that had collapsed, allowed a secret garden of sorts to grow when the sunlight penetrated. Leaving the cave, I found myself at a fork in the road. I could go left and continue on to one last site with 7 restored Moai, or I could turn right and head back to town. Figuring I’d already gotten this far, I may as well press on, plus I still had a bit more time. Walking to the final site, I was passed by smarter people who had rented mountain bikes, but slowly yet surely, I made it to my destination. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, I took the obligatory selfies with the Moai, then had a much deserved lie down on the grass, sans footwear. Just my luck, the weather was about to turn, and I could feel the beginning spits of rain. I guess that was my cue to start the hike back to town. Joy. By then I had come to the last dregs of my water too, and there just so happened to be a random bottle of opened Evian on the side of the road (yes, I know, it’s probably not Evian in there), presumable fallen out of someone’s bag as they rode around. Lamenting at my decision not to use my special filtering water bottle that morning (we’re talking heavy duty, filters bacteria and viruses that cost me a small fortune, type bottle), I decided to keep the bottle as a dire-straits back up plan to starve off dehydration on my 3 hour trek back to town. 

Well, turns out I didn’t need it after all. About 10 minutes into the hike back to town, a old ute slows down next to me, and stops to offer me a ride back to town. I politely declined, but the dude insisted, and through my lack of Spanish, and his lack of English, he indicated that town was a LOOONG way off. Realising I could either face a 3 hour trek and arrived well past sunset, or hitch a ride. Laziness saw me accept the guy’s ride, he seemed harmless enough. Here’s the funny bit, the guy struck me as a bit of a stoner when he first offered the ride, and well, turns out he was. My first clue was the bloodshot eyes and general easygoing and relaxed nature potheads get, then there was the obvious whiff of pot in the truck. Oh and the thing that really convinced me my new friends liked to indulge in a bit of Mary Jane? The fact his back seat was COVERED in repotted marijuana plants. Finding the humour in my situation, I just rolled with it. On the ride back, between my lack of Spanish and his lack of English, we managed a bit of a conversation where I shared I was from Australia, and that he was a bit of a pot farmer, and turned I down his offer of pot. He kindly dropped me off at the main square in town, and I managed to make it back to camp well before the sun began to set. There was a couple that were biking the same trail I was hiking, and I think they were pretty confused when I got back to camp before them, considering every time I’d arrive at a site, they’d just be leaving it. After dumping my stuff at the tent, I bumped into Hannah, and shared my very own hitchhiking story over dinner. So there you go folks, my first unintentional hitchhiking story. Just don’t tell my mum, she’s freaked out about me being in South America as it is.