Opening image: Cromwell Day launching his family wa'a, Hekili'o Kahana. Photo Chris Miyashiro

Editor’s intro from the Roaring Journals third print edition.

As we go to print, the Hōkūleʻa is currently docked in Ōkahu Bay, Auckland, Aotearoa. 

The fabled Hawaiʻian voyaging canoe — a replica of the traditional canoes that allowed the Polynesians to fan out across the Pacific a couple of thousand years ago — is undertaking a 68,000km Moananuiākea voyage (circumnavigation) of the Pacific, which started in Alaska three years ago and is due to be completed in 2028, although the Pacific will have the final say on when that actually is.

 

The Hōkūleʻa has been in Aotearoa since late last year and was due to have already left for Tonga, but has been held up by an ancient force, far older than the Polynesians and their original canoes. 

 

A strong El Niño has been forecast, weakening the trade winds and leaving the Hōkūleʻa without enough wind to make it north. El Niño is a climate cycle as old as the Pacific itself, and the Polynesians were quick to learn the signs of its arrival... and the opportunity it presented every few years. 

 

The first Polynesians had travelled east into the Pacific, headlong into the belt of easterly tradewinds that rip through the tropics. But every few years those winds would slacken or even reverse for months on end. It made heading east easier, and we can imagine it played a part in them getting as far east as Easter Island, Rapa Nui. As navigators and sailors, the Polynesians were masters. They joined the dots in the Pacific using stars and wind and a million little clues that had passed down through generations. 

Nainoa Thompson, lead navigator of the Hōkūle'a for almost four decades, is still out there on the Pacific today. Photo Jordan Manley

Voyaging is old but has become new again. In a world infinitely smaller than it once was, a world where generations of knowledge and skill can be replaced with a satellite and a GPS, there’s been a course recorrection back to some of the old ways. 

The definition of the voyage is as wide as the Pacific itself. While most see it as two points on a map and some form of unknown between them, often that unknown is inside the voyager themselves. There’s still plenty left to discover today. Maybe not a new island, but a new way of seeing things. If you find yourself out under the stars on a cloudless night with Dave Rastovich, he’ll be sitting there lost in the night sky, but he’ll quickly point out he’s actually looking at the space between the stars, and not so much the stars themselves. 

The following stories belong to people out there on the water; some on boats, some not, some with reasons to be out there, others out there for no reason at all. They’re stories of the Pacific and Polynesia and of place. They’re stories of islands and spaces between them.

Roaring Journals Edition Three is out now. Order your copy here.

All proceeds go to Surfrider Founder Australia and Surfers For Climate.

Opening image: Cromwell Day launching his family wa'a, Hekili'o Kahana. Photo Chris Miyashiro

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