As the title suggests, The Purple Tides of Hanga Roa takes place on Rapa Nui, also known as Easter Island, one of the most remote inhabited islands on earth, famous for its mysterious and charismatic statues, the Moai.

The story concerns a financially successful Englishman who, disillusioned with the superficiality of his life, decides to leave it all behind in the hope that he might discover the answer to his malaise. Determined to get as far away as he can, he decides upon either Rapa Nui or Tristan de Cunha. In a pub opposite the airline office he flips a coin. It tells him Tristan de Cunha. But as he crosses the road, on a whim, he changes his mind and buys a ticket to Rapa Nui.

The island is everything he’d hoped for. He is beguiled by the light and the space, the spectacular views, the towering thundering waves and the moody changeable skies. But he also discovers an island society more complex than anything he anticipated, and begins to understand that beneath its apparent simplicity the echoes of its dark past still reverberate, and old ghosts still walk.

He meets local girl, coquettish and beautiful, but damaged, like a china doll that’s been glued back together. Wild and free, her capricious behavior mystifies him. They begin a relationship and it seems to him that in a strange way the island itself begins to approve. Trying to make sense of what he’s feeling, he consults his newfound island friends but their responses are enigmatic.

He begins to imagine himself at home, but what happens next reveals to him the depths of his folly, and he learns that there are things impenetrable to those not born to them.

The author had the privilege of living for three years on the island of Rapa Nui. It was my intention to render that magnificent and troubled island faithfully, with love and respect, but also with truthfulness. I hope that in this I have succeeded.

Although the conversations depicted are fictitious, some of the people portrayed are real people, still to be found hanging around in Hanga Roa. I hope that they will appreciate the way they are portrayed and that it was done with great affection. If they don’t, what are they going to do about it? I’m in Morocco!

If any discerning readers find this story to be derivative of The Cossacks by Leo Tolstoy, that’s because it is. I swiped it. But only out of respect. It’s one of my favorite stories. And I doubt old Leo will mind. He’s been dead for a hundred and ten years.