Unveiling the Ancient Secrets of the Azores
In the weaving of human history, the narrative of discovery and exploration often unfolds with a surprising twist. The Azores, a cluster of islands nestled in the heart of the Atlantic, have long been regarded as untouched by human hands until the Portuguese navigators stumbled upon them in the 15th century. However, recent archaeological findings challenge this established history, suggesting a narrative far more complex and ancient than previously thought.
The discovery of megalithic structures on Terceira Island, part of the Azores archipelago, has ignited a debate that forces us to reconsider the timeline of human presence in this region. These structures, akin to the passage tombs and portal tombs of Western Europe, lie in contradiction to the historical dogma that these islands were uninhabited before the Portuguese arrival. The paradox of these findings is not just in their existence but in what they imply about human capability and movement across the vast ocean expanses in times far removed from our own.
When we delve into these findings, we find ourselves standing at the edge of known history, peering into a past that speaks through stone and silence. The Grota do Medo site on Terceira Island has revealed structures that bear a striking resemblance to those found from Scotland to the south of Spain, part of what is known as the Atlantic façade. Here, we are not just looking at mere stones but at potential evidence of a cultural exchange or parallel development that could date back to the Neolithic, Chalcolithic, or even the Bronze Age.
As everyone can perceive, the implications of these discoveries are profound. since these megalithic constructions undoubtedly predate the Portuguese discovery, it opens a Pandora’s box of questions about ancient maritime prowess. The ocean levels of the Paleolithic were lower, suggesting that landmasses might have been closer or that islands were more accessible, potentially facilitating human migration or exploration much earlier than previously considered. Moreover, there are many anchors found on Azores beaches, relics that hint at navigational activities long before the age of recorded history.
The narrative of these islands being discovered in the last millennium is now under scrutiny, not merely as an academic exercise but as a revaluation of our understanding of human history. The presence of these megalithic structures suggests that humans might have been navigating the Atlantic, not out of necessity alone but perhaps driven by curiosity, trade, or even ritual, echoing the journeys of the Bronze Age, where the sea was no longer a barrier but a pathway.
As we embark on this journey of rediscovery, one we must approach with humility, acknowledging that the answers we seek are buried under layers of time and earth. These findings demand a multidisciplinary approach, where archaeology, anthropology, and history converge to piece together the puzzle of our past. The Azores, once thought to be a blank slate of history, now whisper of ancient stories, of voyages, of cultures that have left their mark long before we gave them a name.
Thus begins our exploration into the heart of these contradictions, into a landscape where every stone tells a story, every carving a chapter of human endeavour, and every site a testament to the enduring quest for understanding our place in the cosmos.
The Azores unveil their secrets through the silent testimony of stone. Among the most compelling discoveries at the Grota do Medo site on Terceira Island are structures reminiscent of the passage tombs known from Western Europe. These are not mere coincidences but bear the hallmarks of a sophisticated understanding of architecture and symbolism. As I say often, Coincidence Takes Planning.
Picture this: two structures, one poised above the other, each with a corridor that leads to what might have been a burial chamber. The first structure, with an entrance oriented to the south-east, embodies the essence of a passage tomb, a type of monument that stretches from Scotland’s western seaboard to Spain’s southern reaches. Its counterpart, larger and with an entrance to the north, further cements the similarity to these ancient European constructs. Both are crafted with an eye for permanence, using stones that weigh over two tons, their placement suggesting a knowledge of structural balance that belies the notion of the Azores being a cultural void until recent history.
The construction techniques observed here are not just about moving and placing massive stones but also about the intention behind their arrangement. The use of worked stones, the careful crafting of corridors, and the deliberate placement of these structures on high ground, visible from afar, all echo the practices of Neolithic and Bronze Age builders across the Atlantic façade. This raises questions about the transmission of knowledge or the parallel development of similar architectural ideas across vast distances.
The passage tombs at Grota do Medo are not merely architectural curiosities, they are cultural artefacts. Their existence suggests a people who had the time, resources, and skill to dedicate to such monumental endeavours. This points to a society with a stable food supply, social structure, and perhaps most intriguingly, a belief system where the dead were honoured or remembered through these enduring structures.
But it’s not just the tombs themselves, the landscape they occupy speaks volumes. The high points of Pico do Espigão where these structures are found dominate the island’s landscape and seascape, a choice location that could have served both practical and ceremonial purposes. The orientation of the tombs could be linked to astronomical observations or ritualistic practices tied to the sun or stars, a common theme in megalithic cultures where the alignment of structures often holds spiritual or functional significance.
Furthermore, the discovery of four structures resembling Irish Portal Tombs adds another layer to this narrative. These tombs, characterized by their open east-facing entrances leading into chambers, often roofed in a corbelled fashion, are a testament to the cultural connections or independent developments in architecture across the Atlantic. The presence of these portal tombs, especially with their association with water, suggests a deep-seated connection with the natural world, where water and stone are not just elements but participants in the cosmic dance of life, death, and rebirth.
The Azores’ megalithic structures, therefore, do not stand alone but are part of an ancient conversation across time and space, a dialogue written in stone about human ingenuity, spirituality, and the ceaseless quest for meaning. Here lies a challenge to our understanding of history, an invitation to look beyond the accepted narratives and to consider the possibility of a vibrant, connected past where the Azores were not isolated but part of a broader human story.
The Azores, set like jewels in the vast Atlantic, have long been thought of as the last frontier of human discovery in the Western Hemisphere. However, the discovery of megalithic structures, alongside other artefacts, suggests that these islands might have been waypoints in ancient maritime journeys far earlier than the Portuguese explorers would have us believe.
Let’s delve into the enigma of ancient navigation. The distance from mainland Portugal to Terceira Island is considerable, yet not beyond the reach of Bronze Age seafarers. Archaeological evidence from Europe, such as the middle Bronze Age Dover Boat, indicates that complex vessel construction was within the technological grasp of these ancient societies. If such boats could traverse the English Channel, why not the Atlantic to the Azores?
The hypothesis of ancient transatlantic voyages gains further credibility when considering the anchors found on Azorean beaches. These anchors, silent witnesses to maritime activity, suggest that vessels capable of such journeys might have plied these waters long before recorded history. While their origins and ages remain speculative, their presence implies that the Azores were not just a discovery waiting to happen but potentially a known stop on ancient maritime routes.
Obsidian, a material not native to the Azores but found on Terceira Island, hints at trade or cultural exchange. This volcanic glass, prized in prehistoric times for its sharpness, was often traded over vast distances. The “Santa Bárbara” stratovolcano on Terceira could have been a source or destination for such materials, linking the island to the broader networks of Neolithic and Bronze Age commerce.
Moreover, the rock art, particularly the engraving resembling a Scandinavian Bronze Age boat on a structure similar to an Irish wedge tomb, pushes the boundaries of our understanding. This imagery speaks of a maritime heritage, where the sea was a conduit for culture, ideas, and people. It’s as if the stone itself narrates tales of seafaring ancestors who saw the ocean not as a barrier but as a bridge between worlds.
The incorporation of these findings into our historical understanding challenges the notion that the Azores were uninhabited or unknown before the 15th century. It suggests a narrative where human movement across the ocean was driven by more than just survival; perhaps by exploration, trade, or the search for new lands to settle or sacred sites to establish.
The implications here are vast. By accepting the possibility that humans have reached the Azores in prehistory, during the Bronze Age, by the Nords and then by the Portuguese, we must then reconsider the capabilities, motivations, and interconnectedness of ancient societies. This opens up avenues for research into ancient navigation techniques, the role of ritual and cosmology in seafaring, and the potential for a pre-Portuguese cultural landscape in the Azores. Another thing to note is that following the evidences so far found, this was an island with continuous occupations, by different cultures at different time periods.
From my perspective, the first occupation ended with the 4000BC event as I describe in the article, paper, video with that very same name. However, this is not just about proving or disproving a timeline, it’s about recognizing the human spirit’s drive to explore, to connect, to trade, to leave a mark. Whether these structures were the work of isolated groups or part of a larger maritime network, they speak to a time when the ocean was not just an expanse to cross but a part of human life, culture, and identity.
The silent stones of the Azores whisper stories through their engravings, paintings, and carvings, a language of lines, dots, and symbols that transcends time. The rock art discovered at Grota do Medo on Terceira Island is not merely decorative but a profound testament to the cultural, ritualistic, or perhaps even astronomical practices of its creators. Something we will only find out when the implications of its inclusion in the main historical narrative, are finally accepted and new studies are allowed and performed.
The rock art here is diverse, ranging from simple cup-marks to more intricate designs. These cup-marks, small depressions carved into the stone, are a common motif in Atlantic European prehistory, often linked to Bronze Age religious practices or celestial observations. Their abundance at Grota do Medo and their style suggest a continuity or parallel with the rock art found in places like Scotland, Ireland, and parts of the Iberian Peninsula.
Each cup-mark, each stroke on the stone, could be interpreted as a star in the sky, a drop of water in a ritual, or a mark of human presence in a landscape. The metaphor of water and stone, so vividly apparent in the Azores, mirrors practices from Neolithic Ireland where similar bowls or bullauns are often found associated with water. This association might reflect a spiritual or practical connection to the natural elements, where water, the giver of life, meets stone, the keeper of memory.
As mentioned, the rock art in the island also includes more complex motifs, such as the carving of what might be interpreted as a Bronze Age boat, suggesting a deep-seated connection to maritime culture. This engraving, alongside others, could indicate that the sea was not just a physical boundary but a central part of the cultural and spiritual life of these people. They might have seen themselves as part of a broader oceanic community, where boats symbolized journeys, trade, and perhaps even the soul’s voyage to the afterlife.
However, the rock art of the Azores doesn’t fit neatly into any known European sequence. There are elements here that are unique or at least not clearly paralleled elsewhere. The abstract schemes and geometric designs, like the semi-circular and circular inscriptions, hint at a local adaptation or evolution of these symbols, possibly for astronomical, territorial, or ritualistic purposes.
One particularly intriguing example is the rock art that resembles a chessboard, a design linked to the Copper Age in parts of Europe. This suggests not only artistic but also cultural exchanges or similar cognitive developments across different regions, perhaps through maritime contacts or migrations.
Yet, the meaning of these symbols remains elusive, cloaked in the mists of time and culture. Were these markings a form of communication, a record of celestial events, or something else entirely? Their enigmatic nature points to a human pre-Portuguese presence in the Azores, one that was culturally rich and possibly connected to the broader tapestry of Atlantic Europe.
The rock art’s implications are twofold, it rewrites our understanding of the Azores as a cultural backwater until the 15th century, and it forces us to acknowledge that these islands were part of a vibrant, interconnected world where art, science, and spirituality were intertwined. The challenge now lies in decoding these messages from the stone, in piecing together the narrative of a people whose story was thought to begin much later than it evidently did.
In the Azores, particularly at the Grota do Medo site, there emerges a profound symbolic relationship between water and stone, echoing themes found in ancient cultures across the Atlantic. This connection is not merely incidental but seems to have been a deliberate part of the cultural and spiritual landscape of the island’s prehistory.
The structures at Grota do Medo, with their bowls and carved depressions, are often positioned in such a way that they collect rainwater, directing it through channels or allowing it to pool in these stone containers. This practice, mirrored in various forms across Neolithic and Bronze Age sites in Europe, suggests a ritualistic or symbolic interaction with water. In many ancient societies, water was not just a resource but a sacred element, symbolizing life, purification, and the passage between the earthly and the divine.
Consider the bullauns, those water-filled depressions found in Ireland, which have parallels in the Azorean bowls. While in Ireland, these might be linked to Christian practices, their Azorean counterparts appear to serve a different, possibly more ancient, purpose. The bowls on Terceira Island are located where they cannot practically serve agricultural or domestic uses, yet they fill with water when it rains, suggesting a ceremonial or symbolic function. This might have been part of rituals where water was summoned from the sky to bless or sanctify the stone structures, linking the celestial, the terrestrial, and the human.
This interplay of water and stone is further emphasized by the placement of these sites. At Grota do Medo, one can stand on the hill and see the sea, rivers, outcrops, and the island’s highest mountain, a landscape that seems designed to be experienced in relation to water. The structures themselves are often near cliffs or high points, where the sound and sight of the ocean might mingle with the ritualistic use of water, creating a holistic experience of the environment.
The symbolism here is rich. Water, in its fluidity, represents change, life, and the passage of time, while stone stands for permanence, memory, and the ancestors. Together, they create a dialogue about existence, the cycle of life and death, and the connection between humans and the cosmos. This is not just about physical survival but about the spiritual sustenance that such a relationship could offer, suggesting that these ancient Azoreans might have had a cosmology where the natural elements were key to understanding their place in the universe.
Such practices also imply a sophisticated understanding of the landscape, where every element, from the highest peak to the lowest watercourse, played a role in the spiritual life of the community. The orientation of structures, the astrological alignments suggested by some engravings, and the physical interaction with water all point to a culture deeply attuned to the rhythms of nature, much like their counterparts in Ireland or Scotland.
In this context, the Azores become less of an isolated archipelago and more a part of a broader cultural canvas where water and stone are not just materials but are imbued with meaning, serving as conduits for the spiritual life of their people. Here, we see a culture where the earth and sky are not separate but part of an interconnected whole, where each drop of rain, each stone carved, tells a story of human endeavour to understand and harmonize with the world around them.
The revelations from the Azores have stirred an academic tempest, challenging the very foundations of our historical and cultural understanding of this Atlantic archipelago. The traditional narrative that the Azores were discovered in the 15th century by Portuguese explorers is now under siege, as the silent stones speak of a time long before recorded history.
The scientific community faces a conundrum. On one hand, the lack of dated artefacts or clear historical references makes it difficult to place these structures definitively in time. The absence of pottery or tools that could be carbon-dated adds to the mystery. Yet, the similarities with European megalithic structures, the rock art, and the strategic placement of these sites suggest a cultural sophistication that could not have been spontaneous or isolated.
This debate is not merely about when these structures were built but about what they mean for our understanding of human migration, navigation, and cultural exchange in the ancient world. The presence of megalithic constructions and rock art in the Azores challenges the notion of the ocean as an impenetrable barrier during prehistory. It suggests that ancient peoples had the knowledge, means, and perhaps the motivation to cross vast distances, possibly following celestial or meteorological patterns that are now lost to us.
Culturally, these findings force us to reconsider the narrative of the Azores as a “new world” discovered by Europeans. If these islands were indeed visited or inhabited in the Neolithic or Bronze Age, they were part of an ancient cultural network, perhaps a crossroads where different traditions met, mingled, or evolved independently. This shakes the established view of the Azores’ cultural heritage, which has been largely defined by its Portuguese colonial past.
The debate extends beyond academia into the realms of identity, heritage, and tourism. If the Azores have a pre-Portuguese history, how does this reshape the cultural identity of its inhabitants? Does it alter the storytelling of the islands, their place in global history, and how they market themselves to the world?
Scientifically, the need for further research is evident. A multidisciplinary approach is required, involving archaeologists, historians, anthropologists, geologists, Sound and astronomy experts and perhaps even linguists to decode the cultural artefacts and environmental data. Excavations, new dating methods, and comparative studies with other Atlantic sites could shed light on the timeline and cultural affiliations of these structures. The problem is that would be recognizing these sites and what they mean to the History Books.
All of this is quite in tune with the times, for this causes a cultural debate about how we view history. Are we willing to expand our understanding beyond written records? Can we embrace a narrative where the Azores were not just a place of exile or refuge for those fleeing the Inquisition but a land with its own ancient stories, potentially as old as the European megalithic tradition?
The implications are vast: if we accept this pre-Portuguese presence, we must ask not only how, but why these peoples came here, what they sought, and what they left behind. This exploration could lead to a richer, more nuanced understanding of how cultures form, interact, and evolve, not in isolation but in a dynamic interplay across the seas. It is a debate that challenges us to look beyond the known and to wonder about the unknown histories that lie beneath our feet.
The journey through the ancient Azores, as uncovered by these remarkable archaeological finds, has been like peeling back layers of time to reveal a history far more profound and interconnected than previously imagined. The existence of megalithic constructions, rock art, and the symbolic interplay of water and stone on Terceira Island paints a picture of a landscape not merely discovered but perhaps rediscovered by modern humans.
This narrative reshapes our understanding of the Azores, no longer as a blank canvas upon which Portuguese history was painted but as a canvas with its own ancient, yet to be fully understood, script. The implications are substantial; they suggest that the Azores were not isolated from the cultural exchanges that shaped the Atlantic façade but were, in some way, part of this grand human History of expansion into a planet were globalization happened not in the last 600 years but since time immemorial.
The scientific and cultural implications of these findings are clear. We are at a crossroads where history must be rewritten or, at the very least, expanded to include these new chapters. The dogmatic narrative of the islands being untouched until the last millennium is now shown wrong, with evidence suggesting that human feet might have trodden these lands when the ocean levels were different, when ancient mariners could have used the Azores as a stepping stone or sanctuary.
The anchors on the beaches, the obsidian hinting at trade or visitation, and the structures themselves all point to a prehistory of the Azores that was vibrant and connected. This calls for a new kind of archaeological endeavour, one that is interdisciplinary, that embraces both the hard sciences for dating and analysis and the humanities for interpreting the cultural significance of these findings.
Yet, there is humility in this discovery, a recognition that our understanding of history is always evolving, that being wrong in the face of new evidence is a privilege and not a bother. For it means we are indeed learning, that the academic work is producing results and not merely repeating memories of an unproven past. The Azores islands, having their silence broken by the songs of stone, invite us to listen more closely to the past, to question, to explore, and to connect the dots of human history across the vast blue expanse of the Atlantic.
In conclusion, these findings do more than just revise a timeline; they enrich the cultural heritage of the Azores, providing its people with a deeper sense of place in the world’s history. They remind us of the human spirit’s resilience and curiosity, of our ancestors’ ability to navigate not just the waters but the very stars above them. The Azores become not just an archipelago but a symbol of human capability that is far more remote than previously believed, a testament to the idea that our stories are far older, far more mysterious, and infinitely more connected than we might have ever guessed. As we continue to unearth these silent witnesses, we are reminded that every stone, every carving, holds a part of our collective memory, waiting to be told.
All images are from the papers to be found in this article Bibliography, and a rare BBC Documentary, here presented under fair use for education purposes only.
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