Walk the line

"There is a fine line between genius and insanity. I have erased this line." - Oscar Levant

A model of the Kon-Tiki raft. Photographed by me at the
Kon-Tiki Museum, Oslo, 2014.

Next door to the Fram Museum is the Kon-Tiki Museum, which commemorates a famous expedition across the Pacific Ocean. Thor Heyerdahl was working as a zoologist in Polynesia when he met a Polynesian chief and learned the legend of Kon-Tiki. According to the legend, the chief's ancestor, named Kon-Tiki, had arrived in the South Pacific on a raft from the east - from South America. Prevailing theory at the time (and also since) was that the ancestors of modern Polynesians came from southeast Asia. Thus, Thor Heyerdahl set out to prove that it was possible to cross the ocean from South America to Polynesia on a balsa wood raft such as the legendary Kon-Tiki would have used.

If you read my previous post, you'll see I was deeply impressed by modern explorers such as Nansen and Amundsen at the Fram Museum. I wanted desperately to place Thor Heyerdahl in the same category and call him "a fantastic human being." While there are definitely some important lessons to be taken away from the Kon-Tiki expedition, but I ended up deciding Heyerdahl was something of a madman. 

If I was about to take off in a balsa wood raft across the ocean with no back-up plan, I would first take the time to learn everything that I could about ancient raft construction, modern sailing techniques, the environment I was entering, etc. I would stuff my head with knowledge. Not so with Heyerdahl. None of the six men aboard had any sailing experience. In fact, their first 24 hours at sea were almost a complete disaster, and two of the men came within inches of death in the middle of the expedition. 

By all practical accounts, the Kon-Tiki expedition should not have succeeded. In fact, it was labeled as a suicide mission. The team eventually reached French Polynesia, though their raft was in terrible condition and they collided with a coral reef upon arrival. 

Nevertheless, the expedition actually does illuminate the cultural anthropology of Polynesia. DNA

Carved stone figures from Polynesia. Photographed by me at
the Kon-Tiki Museum, Oslo, 2014.

evidence in recent years has shown some limited influence of South American genes in Polynesia, and stone statues carved in Polynesia bear a striking resemblance to figures produced in South America. At one point in his travels, Heyerdahl was shown into a cave full of such figures on Easter Island. The figures are on display in the museum today. To some extent, I admire Heyerdahl's bravery and his belief in himself despite universal criticism. He also held international collaboration to be a very important element of his work. Prior to the expedition, he approached the Peruvian government for funding and was even granted an audience with the Peruvian President. In later expeditions (as if one wasn't enough!) he sought collaborators from Egypt and Chad.

I've confessed to you before my desire to explore and work in developing countries. That Heyerdahl was already able in 1947 to travel as a Norwegian to Peru, find support for a hair-brained adventure from a government he didn't belong to, cross the ocean, arrive on an island, and then be granted a private tour of that island's cultural treasure caves - this is astounding to me! Perhaps I should take it as encouragement for my own future endeavors, but at the moment, I'm more inclined to interpret Heyerdahl's life with caution. He did, after all, abandon his wife and bankrupt himself by investing in his and others' projects.

I think that in international collaborative efforts, there is a delicate balance to be found. People from different countries can and certainly do work well together. However, at the forefront of any project must always be respect for local authorities and preservation of local culture. It strikes me that Heyerdahl treated the world a bit like his own personal playground, which is the exact opposite of how I prefer to approach life.

It was very interesting to see the Kon-Tiki Museum and to learn more about the man behind the expedition.

Wisdom?
Photographed by me at the Kon-Tiki Museum, Oslo, 2014.