Between fifteen hundred and two thousand years ago, a group of people set out across the Pacific in outrigger canoes. Their destination, while maybe not specific, was intended, and ultimately their mission was successful. These early discoverers were the Polynesian ancestors to the people of Hawai'i, Tahiti and other Polynesian islands. Their expertise in navigation without the use of instruments has come to be called wayfinding. Wayfinding is an art unique to the people of the Pacific. It is the heritage that enabled the ancients to successfully migrate across the Pacific Ocean and settle the remote islands of places like Tahiti and Hawai'i. Will Kyselka, astronomer at the Bishop Museum who has long been involved with Pacific voyaging, offers this definition of wayfinding:

"The navigator at the center of a circle of sea and sky, trusting mind and senses within a cognitive structure to read and interpret nature's signs along the way as the means for maintaining continuous orientation over vast oceanic distance to remote, intended island destinations." (Kyselka, Hawaiian Sky, 54)

The islands of Hawai'i were settled by a people with a long tradition of wayfinding. They were experts who possessed the ability to find Hawai'i and travel at will between various locations in the Pacific. "Chant, legend, song, dance, and story tell of repeated voyaging between Hawai'i and Tahiti" (Kyselka, An Ocean In Mind 14). Contrary to what some westerners believed, finding and populating the islands of the Pacific was not accidental. While the exact location may not have been realized, these early navigators set sail with the knowledge that they would find land. The folktale of Pa'ao and Lonopele, two brothers from Tahiti, tells how after a quarrel, Pa'ao left the island of Tahiti: "Pa'ao was consecrated for this voyage to find new land" (Kawaharada). Pa'ao settled on the island of Hawai'i, and built a heiau for his god. Hewahewa, the kahuna-nui during the reign of Kamehameha 1, traced his geneology to Pa'ao.

There is an abundance of evidence that supports the conclusion that the discovery of Polynesia was accomplished by a people with the ability to navigate. The island of Kaho'olawe is the home of the bay, Lae 0 Kealaikahiki. Oral tradition identifies this bay as the "departure point from where Hawaiians left when they traveled between Hawai'i and Tahiti in the thirteenth century" (Aluli and McGregor 243). Kaho'olawe boasts other treasures which tell of a people possessing great knowledge of the sky and sea around them. According to Aluli and McGregor, "the kahuna Keawiki was associated with the school for training in astronomy and navigation at Moa'ula iki. At Moa'ula iki is found the foundations of a platform used for the navigational school and of a house site for the kahuna who instructed the students in navigation" (243.) From Moa'ula iki one can see the currents running through the channels which separate the islands. The spot also provides an excellent site for astronomical observation (243). The knowledge of wayfinding possessed by the ancient Hawaiians was passed from generation to generation in a formal learning environment. These people were said to have been "skilled in observing the stars which served them as a mariner's compass in directing their course" (Malo 7). Wayfinding was an intricate part of ancient Hawaiian culture.

The traditions of astronomy and navigation were methodically passed down from father to son in the way of the ancients, orally. While the beauty and complexity of chants, songs and stories is captivating, this type of recordation can have its drawbacks. In the matter of the history of Hawai'i, according to David Malo, "some of the matters are clear and intelligible, but the larger part are vague" (1). The reason matters became obscure is not solely because the Hawaiians relied on oral tradition. For thousands of years the traditions, not just of wayfinding, but of medicine, canoe building and numerous other art forms, had been successfully taught by father to son. The tradition of oral recordation in and of itself is not flawed. However, within one hundred years of Captain Cook's arrival to the Hawaiian Islands, many traditions were lost or forgotten. Hawai'i suffered a population collapse at the hand of disease introduced by foreigners. Many of those entrusted to teach the traditions died. Then, toward the end of the nineteenth century an equally devastating curse befell the Hawaiian community: the language was banned. While the Hawaiian people fell victim to disease, the culture was held hostage when the people were deprived of their platform of instruction. While there are many who are working hard toward unlocking the secrets which the oral traditions hold, some things have been lost. The art of wayfinding, of which the Hawaiians were masters, is one such tradition.

As Hawai'i moved into the twentieth century, the islands found themselves under Western influence. Western clothing, food and occupations began to consume Hawaiian culture. More and more the ways of old were abandoned. Hawaiian language was not spoken, hula was not danced, and enormous western ships with mechanical navigation devices filled the harbors. For a long time this was the lifestyle of the descendants of warriors, kahunas, astronomers, and wayfinders.

The last few decades have seen a concerted effort to rediscover and revitalize the Hawaiian culture. The early 1970s gave birth to a movement which began with a group practicing experimental archaeology and ended with a man bringing life back to a once lost tradition. The idea of building a canoe that replicated the ancient style, and then sailing it in the ancient way, without instruments, was an intriguing and dangerous challenge. The main obstacle of such an undertaking was that hardly anyone was left who retained the knowledge of ancient navigation used by the Hawaiians. Although the tradition had been lost, one man, Nainoa Thompson, sought to find the knowledge that his ancestors possessed.

Will Kyselka, who helped teach Thompson star paths, noted that Thompson, who is of half Hawaiian ancestry, has a "lively curiosity and a deep affinity for the sea" (An Ocean In Mind 5). These characteristics were the driving forces which led Thompson on his journey to rediscover his heritage (5).

In the first leg of the voyage, Thompson worked with Kyselka, a geologist-turned-astronomer, at the Bishop Museum Planetarium. Thompson spent hundreds of hours at the Planetarium, literally memorizing thousands of stars and their paths. The ability to recreate star movement inside the planetarium combined with pointers provided by Kyselka aided Thompson's study of the stars. In this modern setting, Thompson accomplished what his ancestors must have done. He began accounting for various, unpredictable scenarios. Nature being erratic, and sometimes obscuring the view of the heavens, necessitated more than one means to tell direction. Thompson created ways of knowing that were uniquely his own: "Thompson developed four ways for determining direction, six for determining latitude" (38). State of the art facilities and a formal education were the attributes of the modern world that Thompson used to pave the road he was traveling into the past.

For the next step of his journey, Thompson needed a teacher knowledgeable in wayfinding. Mau Piling, of the small atoll, Satawal, was the only choice. Thompson remembered Mau from the 1976 Hokule'a voyage. He knew that Mau was one of the few men in the Pacific who possessed the knowledge of wayfinding. Mau was responsible for the Hokule'a's first successful journey to Tahiti in 1976. He had been recruited by Ben Finney, the choreographer of the first voyage. The master navigator guided the Hokule'a safely from Hawai'i to Tahiti without the aid of instruments. Mau explained that his knowledge had been passed down from generation to generation, orally, as in Hawaiian tradition: "My father and grandfather teach me" (Kyselka, Hawaiian Sky 52). After the trip to Tahiti, he returned to Satawal. As Thompson watched Mau return, he said "with him went our knowledge of the wayfinding art" (Ocean in Mind 20). Yet this also marked the beginning of Thompson's great endeavor to attain the knowledge of his forefathers.

In 1979, Thompson contacted Mau and then flew to Satawal to meet with him. He was anxious. Thompson knew that after the 1976 voyage of the Hokule'a, Mau vowed never to return to Hawai'i: "I don't go back Honolulu anymore" (Finney 261). The dissension among the crew of the 1976 voyage was too much for Mau, and it contradicted everything that wayfinding represented (258-59). Thompson knew this when he asked for Mau's help in 1979. Mau had met Thompson in Tahiti, and remembered him. Mau's vow to never return to Hawai'i was not given lightly, but something about Thompson must have changed his mind, for Mau did return, and he mentored Thompson. In Thompson, Mau saw a man whose desire to embrace the ancient tradition would outweigh any other obstacles. In Thompson, Mau sensed a man like himself, who would love wayfinding.

"Mau's navigational knowledge came out of tradition" (Kyselka, Hawaiian Sky 52). Mau was almost casual in his approach to wayfinding because the knowledge is deeply embedded in his being. He enjoys his craft: "Make happy!" he would tell the crew (Ocean In Mind 60). This is significant of the attitude Mau finds necessary to ensure successful voyaging. This was the attitude lacking in the 1976 voyage. In Nainoa Thompson Mau saw the right ingredients, a man willing to put the tradition above petty grievances.

The tradition that Mau learned from his father and grandfather is threatened with extinction. Mau hoped to pass the tradition on to one of his children, but all but one have passed up the ancient art of wayfinding for other lifestyles ("The Navigators," video). Perhaps this is another reason Mau embraced Thompson. He found the essential traits of a wayfinder, characteristics not found in his own family. Thompson became Mau's vehicle for assuring that the tradition of wayfinding would not die with him.

The way to understanding Mau's teaching became an evolution of simplifying and intensifying. Thompson learned first that, because there were no charts or instruments, Mau only used a few stars in his wayfinding method. However, he was also aware of the environment, the sea, sky, wind, and colors all around him. Mau used these signs to predict prime conditions for sailing as well as weather (Ocean In Mind 58-67). The way Mau taught was unlike any learning that Thompson had experienced up until this point. There were no notebooks or lesson plans (60-62). He taught Thompson the way back to the tradition of his ancestors: to feel the land and sea around you, to become one with it, to malama'aina.

In the summer of 1980, the Hokule'a success fully completed her journey between Hawai'i and Tahiti. The success of this voyage had a tremendous impact around the world. Thompson proved to the world that a long distance voyage could be accomplished without the aid of navigational instruments. And more specifically, it could be done between the islands of Tahiti and Hawai'i. The legends that the chants and songs of Hawai'i allude to could now be re-evaluated as an accurate, oral history. This was unlike the 1976 voyage, where Mau guided the Hawaiian canoe. This time a Hawaiian used traditional Polynesian knowledge, taught by Mau, and created a way that was unique. Wayfinding is not an exact science; it is the way a navigator becomes one with his environment. That relationship is unique to the individual.

From within Thompson himself came the key to rediscovering the ancient tradition of wayfinding, a key that perhaps Thompson himself did not know he possessed. Kyselka describes Thompson as a man who is driven, who "must learn the stars and the sea and how to sail to distant islands as his Hawaiian ancestors had done" (Ocean In Mind 4). Not only is Thompson extremely intelligent, scoring "off the top" of intelligence tests, he was impelled to know his heritage ( 5). The dedication and commitment exhibited by Thompson in the years he spent studying at the planetarium is not the work of a man pursuing a dream, this is the work of a man pursuing a way of life. Somewhere embedded within him, passed down to him from his Hawaiian ancestors came the concept of malama'aina. While the exact oral tradition had been lost Thompson learned a love for the land and sea around him. This is what Mau saw in Thompson. This is why Mau changed his mind and came back to share his knowledge with Thompson.

Thompson went in search of his ancestry, but the lesson in his story is that it was within himself all the time. The formal, state-of-the-art technology at the Bishop Museum Planetarium and the traditional style of Mau's native teachings were tools that Thompson used, but the catalyst was Thompson himself, his heart and soul, and his Hawaiian heritage. As with Mau's knowledge of navigation, this is not a formal learning, probably something he didn't ever recall not knowing. It is a quality that Thompson absorbed from his family, and his 'aina.

While the success of the Hokulea has meant a great deal to the Hawaiian people, it is much more than evidence that instrument-free navigation can be done across thousands of miles. Thompson has become one of the beacons for the Hawaiian people. He not only successfully sailed the Hokule'a, but he has embraced the ways of old, and has chosen wayfinding as a way of life. People like Nainoa Thompson are recreating ways to learn the ancient traditions. Embedded within the simple practices that Hawaii's children are taught when they watch their grandfathers throw fishing nets, or their mothers pound poi, are the keys to the ways of old. Thompson combined the knowledge he gained from modern institutions, like the Bishop Museum Planetarium, and built on this with the traditional ways of knowing, as taught by Mau. Both yield results, but combining the two, bringing together the ancient ways with modern education, bridges the gap between the lost past and the present.

Works Cited

Editor's Note: Dawn, October 8, 1999, the crew of the Hokule'a sighted Rapa Nui, the last major island in the Polynesian Triangle to be visited by canoes of the Polynesian Voyaging Society since its inception twenty-five years ago. The Hokule'a left Hilo on June 15, 1999 on a journey to find the most isolated high island on Earth. Nainoa Thompson was master navigator for the trip.