10 books like Hawaiki Rising

This is the book that sparked my desire to see the world by sailboat and made me believe that I could chase my big ocean adventure dreams.

I love the authenticity of Robin’s storytelling and his courage to brave the ocean despite being so young and inexperienced. I related to his curiosity for the world, his desire for true love, and his voyage as a rite of passage in the modern age. I definitely had a crush on him by the end of the book, and I sure wished his companion Patty had written a book too!

Steven Callahan not only survived this harrowing sea adventure but also wrote about it in such a powerful way. His unique descriptions constantly made me smile. I love how he was able to capture his evolving relationship with the ocean, his spirituality, himself, and the creatures he encounters during the 76-day saga of being adrift in a life raft on the Atlantic after his sailboat sunk.

I didn’t want to put this book down, he was just so courageous not to give up. It was fascinating to be in his head through this radical journey, especially as he questions the meaning of life while fighting to hang on to his own. 

Despite the scholarly title, this book is a highly readable account of traditional Hawaiian culture in Ka‘ū, the southernmost district of the Big Island of Hawai‘i. Mary Kawena Pukui (1895–1986) was a preeminent Hawaiian scholar, author, composer, hula expert, and educator. She was born and raised in Ka‘ū, a remote, rural area where the old culture endured outside of the Westernization of the islands. In 1935 she traveled home with anthropologist E.S. Handy to gather information from her elders. Their book provides details and insights about the district’s history and ecology, the legendary setting (gods and spirits), the extended household and kinship system, the life cycle of individuals, manners and customs, and the relationships between people and ancestral spirits and animals.

Hawaiian Antiquities, published in 1903, was translated into English from the nineteenth-century writings of David Malo (1795–1853). Malo was a major scholar of Old Hawai‘i who spent his life among the courts of the kings and chiefs, where he learned traditional practices and oral traditions. His writings cover a wide range of topics, including cosmogony, origins and genealogy, social classes, geography (land, sea, and sky and clouds, winds, and rains), the calendar (seasons, months, and days), flora and fauna, fishing and farming, houses and canoes, food and clothing, sports and games, religious worship and observances, healing practices and necromancy, and traditions about the ancient kings of Hawai‘i.

Samuel Manaiakalani Kamakau (1815–1876) was one of the most important and prolific Hawaiian scholars of the nineteenth century. His history of the ruling chiefs of Hawai‘i begins with the high chief ʻUmi, eight generations before Kamehameha I, who established the Hawaiian Kingdom in 1795, and continues to the death of Kamehameha III in 1854. Ruling Chiefs, published in 1961, was translated from Hawaiian newspaper articles that appeared in the 1860s and 1870s. The stories include Captain James Cook’s arrival in 1776, the coming of Western missionaries, and the changes that followed. All of the writings of Kamakau are highly recommended, including The People of Old, The Works of the People of Old, and The Tales and Traditions of the People of Old.

Hawaiian Fishing Traditions celebrates famous Hawaiian fishermen. Fish was the main source of protein. The first story, by Moke Manu, tells of Kū‘ula-kai, who became deified as a god of fishermen because of his power to control fish. He built the first fishpond, in Hāna, Maui, to supply the chief and people with food. His son ‘Ai‘ai, featured in the second story, continued his father’s good work by locating offshore fishing grounds and teaching the people how to catch fish, practice conservation, and distribute the catch with generosity. Also included are the stories of other legendary fishermen and of battles with man-eating sharks. Two articles in the appendix describe the vast array of traditional fishing methods; a third article gives an anthropological account of the worship of shark gods.

I absolutely love the way that Bernard writes about the ocean. The way he describes how it feels, his relationship to the sea, his boat, time and space out there. It’s almost like a meditation. I felt so many similar feelings on my own voyage.

I loved how he disregarded social norms to follow his heart and do what made him happy. He helped validate my need to live on my own terms and explore the purpose of life through my own ocean adventures. 

I love how candidly Audrey brings us along on her incredible adventures swimming and paddling the coast of Molokai. It felt like I had acquired a new best friend after reading this book. It’s rare to read stories by women whose desire to experience solitude in nature and “get away from it all” outweighs the fear of all the unknowns that the ocean and nature can present.

I loved her life principles, both as a mother and a human being, and coming along with her on these summertime adventures was pure joy with every page. 

Ben Finney was a surfer, sailor, and anthropologist who spent his career at the University of Hawai‘i and was a founder of the Polynesian Voyaging Society (PVS). The PVS built Hōkūle‘a, a double-hulled sailing canoe modeled on a traditional Hawaiian design but constructed of modern materials.

Finney, then, was part of a team that sailed from Hawai‘i to Tahiti in 1976 without instruments under the leadership of Pius “Mau” Piailug, a renowned navigator from the Micronesian island of Satawal. This book is Finney’s account of that journey and its many challenges.

Hōkūle‘a and the PVS’s experience helped inspire me to write my volume on Anutan seamanship, and Finney wrote the foreword. Later, in 2007, he joined me in a study of Taumako voyaging.

John Dominis Holt grew up in a wealthy chiefly family, with Hawaiian, Tahitian, and white ancestors. His memoirs give a detailed, colorful account of the wealthy Honolulu neighborhood around Fort and Beretania Streets, where he grew up in the 1920s and 30s and where “Hawaiian-ness was strongly mixed with British, American, and Asian influences.” Unforgettable are Holt’s accounts of learning about the worship of sharks from an old Hawaiian fisherman and living in the lively working-class district of Kalihi, where his religious mother moved the family to escape the decadence of Fort and Beretania Streets. Holt describes the experience as “a protracted hula ‘auwana” (modern hula), where a multiracial group of several thousand people “lived in comparative harmony,” speaking Hawaiian, Asian languages, and pidgin English, the lingua franca of plantation communities.