Fans pick 100 books like The Happy Isles of Oceania

This book evoked so many memories from my life in Tonga.

Prior’s humorous accounts of his travels in this island kingdom brought back to me the laidback lifestyle, the flexibility one needs to have when living and traveling in “Tongan Time”, the different foods, customs, and attitudes, and most of all, the friendliness of the people. Having been there myself, one thing was clear: Prior did experience the real Tonga.

And having visited several uninhabited islands there, I especially enjoyed the vivid descriptions of his breakaway to a deserted island, which was full of adventure, tropical bliss, and unexpected hiccups. Simply Tonga as it lives and breathes!  

Having lived with Polynesian people on remote islands for 17 months, I always wondered where they originally came from and how their fascinating culture evolved.

This book enlightened me as it beautifully describes how the earliest Polynesians reached these far-away islands with amazing seafarer skills but no written tradition or metal tools at hand. I came across this book when it won the 2020 Australian Prime Minister’s Literary Award for nonfiction and can only agree that it is very well-researched and written in an easy-to-understand way. 

Although this book is set in 1952, I picked it because I have a soft spot for Easter Island. In the 1990s, when working on a cruise ship, I was fortunate enough to visit this remote place and was deeply fascinated by the Moai statues and how society can function so far from the mainland.

Dr. Verdugo, a doctor recruited to the island, gives a vivid account of the culture shock he experienced there, and the carefree, simple culture of the locals. This mirrored my own experience on Tin Can Island in Tonga, as did his insights into the importance of family ties, tradition, and the solitude one experiences on such a remote island. 

I read this book before we embarked on a two-year mission to Tonga, and it created in me a picture of the South Pacific that proved to be somewhat misleading – largely because I didn’t pay enough attention to the fact that it was set in the 1700s and on Tahiti, which is quite different from Tonga.

Nevertheless, it was worth reading. First, because it is still a thrilling story, even after so many years. And second, because little did I know that some months later I would travel on rickety rusty fishing boats to visit remote islands at roughly the same location where the mutiny on the Bounty had occurred about 200 years before me.

The version I read was published in 1980 (by Sir John D Barrow), but I recommend this version as it makes the topic more accessible. It is a piece of South Pacific history that… show more.

Scott and I started canoeing together back in the 1980s. Then he ventured into sea kayaking. After discovering how much he loved the vessel and how seaworthy it was, Scott–young and single at the time–decided to kayak across the Caribbean. I accompanied him on a shakedown cruise, but being happily married and gainfully employed, I let him go for the rest alone.

The result, recorded in this book, is a mind-boggling adventure: rammed by sharks, stormbound, stung by Portuguese man-o-war, camping on uninhabited islands, spearfishing, and more. He hitched rides on sailboats for the dangerously long passages but otherwise took his time exploring islands, concluding at a place aptly called Bitter End.

My first exposure to the 1789 mutiny on H.M.S. Bounty was watching the 1935 Best Picture Oscar winner, Mutiny on the Bounty, in which a sadistic Captain William Bligh had sailors keel-hauled at the drop of a naval hat. Later film versions make Bligh socially awkward, lacking first-mate Fletcher Christian’s easy rapport with officers and men. What if none of the dramatizations have it right?

I was interested in Caroline Alexander’s emphasis on how Bligh struggled against class prejudice. I hadn’t realized that so many men wanted to stay with Bligh that there wasn’t room for them all in the cutter in which he was cast adrift, nor that he navigated 3,618 miles of ocean on starvation rations to get them back to safety. Reading this book, I felt Bligh has been maligned by every dramatization of the mutiny.  

Julian Evans takes us on a personal tour through the islands of the South Pacific, a region for which I have my own fondness. As well as places I know and love such as Tonga and Vanuatu, Evans visits harder to reach places: The Marshall islands and the Gilbert and Ellis group. Encountering natives, visitors, political and geographical challenges, his story is told with good humour and adventure.

The land war in the South Pacific was brutal.

Japanese conduct was unfathomable to the GIs and Marines who confronted them in battle: The enemy would almost never surrender, engaged in suicidal charges, and often feigned death when wounded in an attempt to kill at least one American before expiring. As the Japanese asked no quarter, they also rarely offered it, and those taken prisoner by the Emperor’s soldiers were often murdered and their bodies mutilated. 

Then there was the land itself: jungles and marshes of debilitating heat and humidity from which sprang deadly diseases such as malaria, typhus, and cholera which caused multiples of the numbers of casualties suffered in battle. 

Touched With Fire chronicles this hellish battlefield as the Japanese advance was slowed, halted, and then reversed over the course of 1942-45.

I like to think of Patrick Kirch as “Mr. Pacific Archaeology”—no one has written more, or more winningly, about Polynesian prehistory—and On the Road of the Winds is his introduction to the field. First published in 2002 and reissued in an updated edition in 2017, this elegant, eminently readable survey not only covers the history of archaeology in Polynesia, Melanesia, and Micronesia but explains how the archaeological findings of the past half-century relate to discoveries in biology, linguistics, cultural anthropology, botany, and countless other fields.

Before M*A*S*H and Catch 22, Michner’s book gave American readers a captivating view of the human side of U.S. soldiers and sailors at war in the South Pacific. This sequential series of interconnected short stories set in Vanuatu and the Solomon Islands works like the best TV mini-series. There are not just sailors and marines; there are locals and colonial characters. 

A great read. Don’t just take my word for it: it won a Pulitzer in 1947. And yes, the highly successful musical play South Pacific by Rodgers and Hammerstein is based on stories from this Michener classic.