The Ancient Alien Question (26 page)

Even though we could reproduce some of the chiseling in the rocks, there are so many diverse shapes, channels, tubes, and holes that it is not simple to ascertain their purpose.

Pedro de Cienza de Leon, the Chronicler of the Incas, wrote in 1553 about Tiahuanaco, stating that the sun emerged from the Island of Titicaca. The Inca said that there appeared from the south a large white man who performed miracles, and whom they called Maker. He taught the people to be good and to love one another. As he traveled north, he became known as TiciViracocha. Later, another white man appeared, performing miracles, and he was given the name Viracocha. In the province of Cocha, however, the locals wanted to stone him, so he knelt and raised his head to the sky, and at that very moment a large fire approached in the sky and the natives feared for their lives. Viracocha then ordered the fire to cease, but the fire and heat
had already scorched the surrounding stones, making them light as cork, so that even the biggest of stones could be easily picked up.

And so with Viracocha, we are once again confronted with a civilizing deity, whose cult involves some of the greatest stone blocks ever carved, and some of them most intricately carved. We are once again confronted with a legend that is on par with other cultures elsewhere in the world. Wherever we turn, the common denominator of these anomalies is that they were built by or as a result of a foreigner, in the possession of extraordinary techniques and technology. That is the conclusion that all the available evidence suggests. Instead, what science
believes
is that there is nothing to see; that we should quickly move on, for all of this is merely the hard work of the indigenous people.

The Quest for the Metal Library

Sometimes it is not a case of what you know, but who you know. In 1973, Erich von Däniken, at the height of his fame following the success of
Chariots of the Gods
, claimed that he had entered into a gigantic subterranean tunnel system in Ecuador, which he was told spanned the length of the continent. Surely this was evidence that our ancestors were highly advanced, or that the builders of this network were extraterrestrial? The structure was believed to house a library in which books were made out of metal. This in an area where today there is nothing but “primitive” Indian tribes with no written language. Is the library evidence of a lost civilization? Or an extraterrestrial presence on planet Earth?

The story centers around Janos “Juan” Moricz, an aristocratic Argentinian-Hungarian entrepreneur who claimed that he had discovered a series of tunnels in Ecuador that contained a “Metal Library.” In a signed affidavit dated July 8, 1969, he spoke about his meeting with the Ecuadorian president, where he received a
concession that allowed him total control over this discovery—provided he could produce photographic evidence and an independent witness that corroborated the discovery of the underground network. Moricz, it seemed, felt that von Däniken was the best witness he could have.

In 1972, Moricz met with von Däniken and took him to what Moricz claimed was a secret side-entrance, through which they could enter into a large hall within the underground complex. Apparently von Däniken never got to see the library itself, just the tunnel system. Von Däniken included the visit in his book
The Gold of the Gods
: “The passages all form perfect right angles. Sometimes they are narrow, sometimes wide. The walls are smooth and often seem to be polished. The ceilings are flat and at times look as if they were covered with a kind of glaze.... My doubts about the existence of the underground tunnels vanished as if by magic and I felt tremendously happy. Moricz said that passages like those through which we were going extended for hundreds of miles under the soil of Ecuador and Peru.”

Then, one of the world’s biggest potential discoveries soon turned sour. Journalists from the German publications
Der Spiegel
and
Stern
interviewed Moricz, who now denied ever having been in the cave with von Däniken. This undermined von Däniken’s credibility (though skeptics will argue he had none to begin with), and, for many, the incident was proof that von Däniken was a fabricator of lies. But no one pointed out that if von Däniken had been lying, he would not have left such an easy trail to Moricz. He could have claimed that he could not reveal the name of his source, and
Der Spiegel
and
Stern
would have been none the wiser. Instead, it seemed that something was amiss with Moricz, who had landed von Däniken in an international controversy from which his career never really recovered.

There are in fact several oddities with this story. First, Moricz merely denied having taken von Däniken there; the existence
of the network itself he did not deny. In
Der Spiegel
, March 19, 1973, we can read:

Der Spiegel
: “How did you discover the [metal] library?” Moricz: “Somebody took me there.”

Der Spiegel
: “Who was this guide?”

Moricz: “I can’t tell you.”

Moricz further stated that the library was guarded by a tribe. So, in short, Moricz claimed to von Däniken that he had discovered caves, and he showed these to him. Now Moricz claimed to have seen the caves, having been led there by a guide whom he could not identify, but denied having taken von Däniken there. The logical conclusion seems to be that Moricz had shown something to von Däniken, was now caught by the fact that everyone seemed to know he had done so, and had to make sure that whoever had shown him did not bear any grudges against him, no doubt because Moricz himself would most likely have been asked not to show anyone else the site.

By 1975, the story of the Metal Library had killed the career of a notorious author, so who would dare to tread in his footsteps? The answer: Neil Armstrong, the first man on the moon. And before him, Stan Hall, a Scotsman who wanted to change the status quo of the controversy.

Stanley “Stan” Hall read von Däniken’s book and subsequently befriended Moricz, who confirmed that he
had
met von Däniken in 1972 and had taken the Swiss author from Guayaquil to Cuenca, where they met Padre Carlos Crespi and saw his collection of enigmatic artifacts. The Crespi Collection, now largely discarded after the padre’s death, was an enigmatic collection of metal plates and other objects suggesting that South America’s past was vastly different from what the official history tells us. The Crespi Collection is often labeled a hoax, because there is no archaeological evidence to suggest that the civilizations of South America could have created the items in it.

After this visit, Moricz claimed, there was insufficient time to take von Däniken to the “true location,” so instead he decided to show him a small cave some 30 minutes from Cuenca, claiming it connected to the network. This seemed to clear up the von Däniken–Moricz controversy, but not the enigma of the Metal Library itself. Where was it? Moricz’s 1969 expedition had ventured into the Cueva de los Tayos, which Moricz identified as the cave that led into the Metal Library. But in 1969, no Metal Library had been uncovered during an expedition led by Moricz. So Hall decided to organize an Ecuadorian-British expedition that would explore the Cueva de los Tayos; it would be a purely scientific expedition.

The Tayos Cave was wrongly identified as the site of the famous Metal Library, one of the greatest treasure troves waiting to be discovered. But when the Tayos Cave was explored in 1976, there was nevertheless a series of important discoveries, with some hints that sections of the complex were manmade.

I met Stan Hall a few times throughout the course of a decade, without knowing that the person I was speaking to was Stan Hall. He was a member of the audience at the Scottish
Saunière Society conferences. He blended into the background and was unlikely, if not unwilling, to stand out. It was by pure accident that I found out I knew Stan Hall—
the
Stan Hall, who furthermore lived near where I lived at the time. This gave me the opportunity to get a personal perspective on the story, and resulted in a friendship that lasted until his untimely death in 2008.

From Hall I learned that, though originally set up to take place in 1977, the 1976 expedition occurred at a time when von Däniken’s public profile had been damaged by Moricz—and Hall was apparently about to endorse Moricz’s claim. This left von Däniken feeling wary about Hall for more than 20 years, until both men realized they were kindred spirits rather than mortal enemies.

Why did Hall do it? He wanted to create a framework: If there was indeed a Metal Library, the first step would be to map the site. That was the main and only goal of the expedition; there was no treasure-seeking. Hall used his professional expertise as a project manager to create a three-week exploration of this famous cave: a joint venture of the British and Ecuadorian armies, supported by a team of geologists, botanists, and other specialists.

So how did Neil Armstrong get involved? “The expedition needed an honorary figurehead,” Hall said. “The name of Prince Charles, who had recently received a degree in archaeology, was proposed, but I knew Neil Armstrong had Scottish connections. My mother was an Armstrong and via another Armstrong in Langholm, where Neil had been made an honorary citizen, I made contact. Months later, I got a reply that Neil Armstrong was more than willing to join us on this mission. It’s when the expedition suddenly became a life’s challenge.”

On August 3, 1976, when the expedition was winding down, Armstrong entered the tunnel system of the Tayos Cave. The team was
officially
not looking for a metal library, and in
fact did not stumble upon one. Had they done so, the discovery would have altered humankind’s perspective on our history and origins. For Amstrong, it could have been his second great contribution to humankind’s exploration, but it was not to be. However, the team did catalogue 400 new plant species as well as a burial chamber inside the cave, in which a seated body was found. The chamber was later dated to 1500
BC
, and it was believed that at the time of the summer solstice the sun illuminated this tomb. Both the date and the alignment show that the history of Ecuador is far older and more intricate than what is officially believed.

Stan Hall (left) and Neil Armstrong at the Tayos Cave basecamp, after Armstrong had entered the cave. If the Tayos Cave had been the location of the Metal Library, Armstrong would not only have been the first man on the moon, but also among the first to find evidence of one of the greatest enigmas on this planet.

When the expedition was finished, Stan Hall returned to his day job. Until 1991, the year Moricz died, the Metal Library continued to elude him. Had it not been for Hall, the story of the Metal Library would probably have died there. He knew that Moricz was not the originator of the story, as von Däniken noted
on
page 53
of his book. In the 1973 interview with
Der Spiegel
, Moricz confirmed that an unnamed person had shown him the cave. But who was this person? Hall decided to track down this third man, who had seemingly disappeared into the shadows. Hall had a name—Petronio Jaramillo—but nothing more.

“Moricz died in February 1991,” said Hall. “I had a name and a telephone directory. But there were an awful lot of Jaramillos in Quito. Finally, I found him—or, rather, his mother. It was September 1991 when she gave me the phone number of her son. I phoned him. He told me that it had taken 16 years before our paths crossed. He was willing to meet me, and stated that he needed three days to fill me in.”

When they met, Jaramillo confirmed that when Moricz arrived in Guayaquil in 1964, he teamed up with lawyer Dr. Gerardo Peña Matheus. Through acquaintances, Andres Fernandez-Salvador Zaldumbide and Alfredo Moebius, Moricz met Jaramillo in Moebius’s house, and from there Moricz ran with Jaramillo’s story. Hall was annoyed with himself when he realized that various people had tried to direct him toward Jaramillo as early as 1975, but it took until 1991 for the two to finally meet.