divers actually brought bits of platinum to the surface day after day! In fact, the main exports of the island—copra, vanilla, sago and mother of pearl—were supplanted by platinum! Rittlinger says that the Japanese carried on exploiting this platinum until one day two divers did not surface, in spite of their modern equipment. Then the war broke out and the Japanese had to withdraw. He ends his story as follows:
“The natives’ stories, encrusted with century-old legends, are probably exaggerated. But the finds of platinum on an island where the rock contains no platinum, were and remain a very real fact.”
All that happened about 1939.
I do not believe in the metal or platinum coffins Hexagonal or octagonal basalt columns, overgrown with mussels and coral, could easily be mistaken for coffins under the water. Never mind. The fact remains that Japan exported platinum from Ponape after its mandate in 1919.
Where did all this platinum come from?
Even if the coffins were an illusion, I am convinced by the divers’ tales of houses, streets and stone vaults on the sea bottom, for one can see these structures in clear water at the edge of the island and recognize clearly how they lead to the so-called well. In my opinion, this was most probably the entrance to a tunnel system covering the island. One point: Nan Madol has nothing in common with the legendary Atlantis that vanished into the sea in 9000 B.C., according to Plato. Here the buildings on dry land exist on the spot where they were laid out ages ago and their continuations under water were planned layouts which were constructed at the same time. There are relics of wonderful buildings here, but there is no miracle.
What does tradition say about the mysterious ruins of Nan Madol?
K. Masao Hadley, Pensile Lawrence and Carole Jencks, research workers living on Ponape, have collected material without attempting to interpret it.
The main building is referred to as the “Temple of the Holy Dove” in the legend. Only three centuries ago, Nanusunsap, the Dove God and high priest, was rowed through the canals in a boat and opposite him sat a dove which he had to look in the eyes all the time. If the dove blinked—and doves do so constantly—the poor high priest had to blink back. A strange conceit.
However, the legends relate that originally the symbol of Nan Madol was not a dove, but a fire-breathing dragon. The stories about the origin of the island and the buildings are woven round this formerly indigenous dragon. The dragon’s mother had excavated the canals with her powerful muzzle and so created the islets. The dragon had a magician as helper and this dragon-magician knew a rhyme with which, thanks to the power of the charm, he could make the basalt blocks fly over from the neighboring island, and then, with the help of another rhyme, use them to make buildings without the inhabitants of Nan Madol lifting a finger.
I was amused by one interpretation of the dragon legend. The archaeologists say that the dragon was not really a dragon, but a crocodile that made its way to Nan Madol by mistake and created a considerable disturbance there. There are crocodiles in the South Seas about 3,000 miles from the island. A crocodile might have lost its way at some time—why not? —but that would still not be a reason for bringing a solitary saurian into the legend and leaving out the actual building of the edifices at Nan Madol, which is far more impressive.
One
crocodile left traces behind in the popular legend, but buildings whose elements are still astonishing and inexplicable today are left unmentioned. The crocodile obviously did not build terraces, houses and tunnels. Or did it?
Naturally there are many more legends about Nan Madol than those of the dove and dragon. In the second volume of his
Results of the South Sea Expedition, 1908-1910
(Berlin, 1936), the German ethnologist Paul Hambruch gives a detailed survey of the sagas, myths and legends of the
“The natives’ stories, encrusted with century-old legends, are probably exaggerated. But the finds of platinum on an island where the rock contains no platinum, were and remain a very real fact.”
All that happened about 1939.
I do not believe in the metal or platinum coffins Hexagonal or octagonal basalt columns, overgrown with mussels and coral, could easily be mistaken for coffins under the water. Never mind. The fact remains that Japan exported platinum from Ponape after its mandate in 1919.
Where did all this platinum come from?
Even if the coffins were an illusion, I am convinced by the divers’ tales of houses, streets and stone vaults on the sea bottom, for one can see these structures in clear water at the edge of the island and recognize clearly how they lead to the so-called well. In my opinion, this was most probably the entrance to a tunnel system covering the island. One point: Nan Madol has nothing in common with the legendary Atlantis that vanished into the sea in 9000 B.C., according to Plato. Here the buildings on dry land exist on the spot where they were laid out ages ago and their continuations under water were planned layouts which were constructed at the same time. There are relics of wonderful buildings here, but there is no miracle.
What does tradition say about the mysterious ruins of Nan Madol?
K. Masao Hadley, Pensile Lawrence and Carole Jencks, research workers living on Ponape, have collected material without attempting to interpret it.
The main building is referred to as the “Temple of the Holy Dove” in the legend. Only three centuries ago, Nanusunsap, the Dove God and high priest, was rowed through the canals in a boat and opposite him sat a dove which he had to look in the eyes all the time. If the dove blinked—and doves do so constantly—the poor high priest had to blink back. A strange conceit.
However, the legends relate that originally the symbol of Nan Madol was not a dove, but a fire-breathing dragon. The stories about the origin of the island and the buildings are woven round this formerly indigenous dragon. The dragon’s mother had excavated the canals with her powerful muzzle and so created the islets. The dragon had a magician as helper and this dragon-magician knew a rhyme with which, thanks to the power of the charm, he could make the basalt blocks fly over from the neighboring island, and then, with the help of another rhyme, use them to make buildings without the inhabitants of Nan Madol lifting a finger.
I was amused by one interpretation of the dragon legend. The archaeologists say that the dragon was not really a dragon, but a crocodile that made its way to Nan Madol by mistake and created a considerable disturbance there. There are crocodiles in the South Seas about 3,000 miles from the island. A crocodile might have lost its way at some time—why not? —but that would still not be a reason for bringing a solitary saurian into the legend and leaving out the actual building of the edifices at Nan Madol, which is far more impressive.
One
crocodile left traces behind in the popular legend, but buildings whose elements are still astonishing and inexplicable today are left unmentioned. The crocodile obviously did not build terraces, houses and tunnels. Or did it?
Naturally there are many more legends about Nan Madol than those of the dove and dragon. In the second volume of his
Results of the South Sea Expedition, 1908-1910
(Berlin, 1936), the German ethnologist Paul Hambruch gives a detailed survey of the sagas, myths and legends of the
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