Copyright © 2016 Disney Enterprises, Inc. All rights reserved.
Published by Disney Press, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Disney Press, 1101 Flower Street, Glendale, California 91201.
ISBN 978-1-4847-9915-4
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Illustrations Based on the Film
A special thanks to the wonderful people of the Pacific Islands for inspiring us on this journey as we bring the world of Moana to life.
The old tapa cloth, made from the bark of trees, had a simple image of the ocean painted across it. For the audience of the story, the waves seemed to come to life in their imagination each time the storyteller told the ancient tale.
“In the beginning, there was only ocean,” the storyteller said as the little waves rose and fell, “until an island emerged: the mother island, Te Fiti.”
Upon the tapa, the listeners could almost see the appearance of an island goddess, rising up from the ocean and growing in size as the storyteller continued. “Her heart had the power to create life itself. And she shared that power with the world.” The lovely goddess lay on her side, the curves of her body becoming mountains and valleys. It appeared to be the birth of a perfect world. A spiraling heart blazed at the very center of the island and a force radiated from it, sprouting beautiful trees and plants.
“But in time,” the storyteller continued, “some began to covet Te Fiti’s heart, believing if they could possess it, the heart’s life-giving power would be theirs alone.” A variety of wicked creatures appeared below the image of Te Fiti, eyeing her heart. “And one day, the most brazen of them all voyaged across the vast ocean to take it.”
A small boat appeared upon the tapa, sailing across the rippling waves with a giant man, full of muscles and carrying a fishhook, at the helm. The man jumped off the boat, leapt into the sky, and magically transformed into an enormous hawk. Soaring through the sky, the hawk flew toward the lush island of Te Fiti with great purpose and determination.
Once it landed on the island, the hawk turned into a chunky green lizard. It quickly and quietly scampered through the dense foliage, its tail slithering behind. When it reached large rocks, it transitioned into a tiny bug to remain unseen and squeezed between them. The bug emerged on the other side and turned back into the man. Behind the shadows, the man anxiously eyed the spiral surrounding the pulsing heart at the island’s center.
“He was a demigod of the wind and sea,” said the storyteller. “A trickster, a shape-shifter with a magical fishhook. And his name was Maui.”
Gripping his enormous fishhook, Maui stuck its point beneath the heart and pried it from the spiral. He proudly flipped it into the air before catching it. Then, to Maui’s surprise, the ground began to shake.
“Without her heart, the island of Te Fiti crumbled, giving birth to a terrible darkness,” the storyteller said, her voice growing louder with doom.
In the listeners’ minds, the trees on the tapa withered and died as life drained from the land, and the island began to turn to dust. Maui somersaulted off a rocky outcropping and raced to the island’s edge. High above the ocean, he jumped off a cliff and, in midair, transformed back into a hawk. With a few mighty flaps, he reached his boat.
“Maui tried to escape, but he was confronted by another who sought the heart: Te Kā, a demon of earth and fire!” said the storyteller. Her voice grew deeper and more dramatic. She took a moment to savor making her audience wait.
Te Kā, a massive lava monster, rose up out of ash clouds with great fury, screaming and screeching in anger. Bright volcanic lightning flashed all around, and bits of hot lava spewed from its top as it started toward Maui. Maui brandished his hook and leapt at Te Kā. The two collided, causing a blinding explosion.
“Maui was struck from the sky, never to be seen again. His magical fishhook and the heart of Te Fiti were lost to the sea…” the storyteller said.
The drawing on the tapa showed Maui’s hook and Te Fiti’s heart as they fell into the rippling ocean waves and disappeared.
Gramma Tala, the storyteller, stood, holding the tapa cloth up for her audience of children to see. Her eyes peeked mysteriously over the tapa, and as she continued with the tale, her voice got louder and louder, building to the finish.
“…where, even now, a thousand years later, Te Kā and the demons of the deep still lurk, hiding in a darkness that will continue to spread, chasing away our fish, draining the life from island after island, until every one of us is devoured by the bloodthirsty jaws of inescapable death!”
Silence fell as most of Gramma Tala’s toddler audience looked up at her with tears in their eyes, terrified. A small boy in the front row sighed and fainted, collapsing to the floor! But one of the girls leaned forward, thrilled by the story. She clapped her hands and smiled excitedly, as if begging for more. The little girl’s name was Moana.
“But one day, the heart will be found,” continued Gramma Tala, “by someone who will journey beyond our reef, find Maui, deliver him across the great ocean to restore Te Fiti’s heart…and save us all.”
Just as Gramma Tala prepared to launch into another story, Chief Tui hurried in. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Mother, that’s enough.” He scooped up Moana and gave her a hongi, lovingly pressing his nose and forehead against hers.
“No one goes beyond our reef,” he said, reminding the children of the island’s most important rule. “We are safe here. There is no darkness; there are no monsters—” He accidentally knocked into the side of the fale, a hut with a thatched roof, causing the tapa screens with the images of monsters painted on them to unravel and wave around. The kids shrieked with fear and jumped on Tui, knocking him over.
“Monster! Monster!” they screamed.
“It’s the darkness!” shouted one of the many frightened kids.
“This is how it ends!”
“I’m gonna throw up!”
They continued to scream and pile on top of Tui, kneeing him as they panicked.
“No, no! There is no darkness,” Tui said as one of the kids kicked him in his side. “As long as we stay within our reef”—another little knee slammed into his gut—“we’ll be fine!” Tui grunted, catching his breath and attempting to calm the children down.
“The legends are true; someone will have to go!” shouted Gramma Tala, feeding the frenzy of fear.
“Mother, Motunui is paradise,” said Tui, breaking free from the pileup of toddlers. He dusted himself off and finished his thought. “Who would want to go anywhere else?”
Off in the corner of the fale, little Moana stood in front of the tapa with her big eyes fixed on the image of Te Fiti. As the cloth blew in the wind, Moana could see the vast ocean sparkling between the palm trees in the distance.
It seemed that the ocean was calling to her as the waves danced and waved before breaking on the shore. Moana smiled and stared, mesmerized by the beautiful
blue water. Then, without anyone noticing because of all the commotion, she quietly slipped out of the fale.
Moana walked to the beach and waddled around, enjoying the feel of the sand between her toes. She gazed out at the ocean, its playful waves rolling back and forth, breaking farther out in the distance on the reef that surrounded her island of Motunui. Suddenly, she noticed a beautiful conch shell sparkling in the surf. The shell’s creamy pink surface formed a perfect spiral, and Moana wanted to pick it up and hold it. But just as she was about to move closer to it, she heard a loud rustling behind her. She turned to see a group of squawking seabirds tormenting a baby turtle. The turtle was trying to make its way to the water, but the hungry birds blocked its path, threatening to strike. The turtle looked frightened, and each time it tried to take a step, one of the birds lunged for it. The turtle retreated and tried to hide inside its shell.
Moana anxiously eyed the big conch shell. She was afraid that the tide would pull it away before she could get to it. Yet she couldn’t leave the baby turtle in its predicament. So she picked up a big leafy palm frond and shielded the turtle as she escorted it across the sand. When the birds tried to go around the palm to get to the turtle, Moana didn’t flinch. She bravely shooed them away, stomping her foot to scare them off. She stayed close to the little turtle as its protector, helping it carefully make its way to the water. As the turtle swam into the surf, she stood for a moment, swinging her arms at her sides, and watched it with a grin on her face.
Once the turtle disappeared into the ocean, the water began to mysteriously spiral and bubble. Then it receded, revealing the conch shell, which a wave had indeed taken. Delighted, Moana squatted to pick it up. As she reached for it, another conch shell appeared, deposited by the receding water. The ocean continued to recede, revealing more and more conch shells. Moana collected them all, balancing the tall pile in her small arms.
The ocean swelled and released a slight wave that curled over Moana and hovered directly above her head. It magically stayed there, seeming to say hello. She grinned up at the wave and poked it with her finger, as if popping a bubble. A trickle of water dripped down over her, making her giggle with delight.
The little wave curled over Moana again, this time playing with her hair and tickling her head. Then, with a twist, it gave her a silly hairstyle. Moana laughed again and again as she played with her strange new friend.
Suddenly, the wave fell back and the ocean parted, forming a canyon. A surprised fish flopped around in the sand at Moana’s feet and then found its way back to the safety of the water. Spellbound, Moana toddled along the mysterious canyon, trailing her hand against its watery walls.
This path had led Moana deeper into the ocean, where she saw the baby turtle with its mother by its side. She watched as they swam off together. Once they faded into the distance, her eyes were drawn to a shiny object. It drifted closer, and Moana reached into the water and grabbed it.
The object was round and smooth like a stone on one side, but it had an interesting design on the other. With her finger, Moana traced its unique spiral, curiously feeling the edges of the swirling ridge. She knew there was something very special about this stone.
“Moana!” Her father’s panicked voice called her name in the distance, snapping her out of the magical moment. The ocean quickly picked her up and whisked her to shore just before Tui arrived though the trees. As he raced over, Moana accidentally dropped the shiny stone. Tui grabbed her before she could see where it went.
“What are you doing?” Tui said, holding her close. “You scared me.”
Moana wriggled in his arms, trying to return to the shore. “Wanna go back,” she begged.
“No,” he said firmly, facing her. “You don’t go out there. It’s dangerous.”
Moana turned around to glance at the ocean, scanning it for the stone, but she didn’t see it. The ocean was once again calm as the gentle waves rippled onto the shore. All the magic appeared to be gone.
Tui set her down and held out his hand. “Moana? Come on. Back to the village.”
She reluctantly took her father’s hand and walked with him. But she kept her eyes firmly on the ocean until it was out of sight.
Sina, Moana’s mother, smiled widely as she approached her family, and the three walked together toward the village.
“You are the next great chief of our people,” said Tui, looking down at his daughter.
“And you will do wondrous things, my little minnow,” added Sina.
“Oh, yes. But you must learn where you’re meant to be,” said Tui.
Suddenly, Moana turned from her parents and bolted back to the ocean. Sina and Tui exchanged a worried look and quickly caught up to her. They scooped Moana up and carried her the rest of the way to their safe, quiet village.
As the years passed, Moana’s parents taught her to appreciate life on the island of Motunui. She took comfort in traditions. She learned the songs. She knew what a valuable resource the coconut was—from its sweet meat and water, to its fibers, from which they made nets. She even knew how to weave the different kinds of baskets the villagers used in daily life.
Moana knew that the island gave the people of Motunui all they needed. Yet she was still drawn to the sea. Moana often stared out at the crystal blue water, wondering what was beyond the island’s reef. She loved watching the fishing boats as they sailed into the lagoon and returned, but her parents would constantly drag her away, back from the water’s edge.
Only Gramma Tala understood Moana’s fascination. The two spent many hours walking the beach together and would often dance with the waves. Gramma Tala always encouraged Moana to follow her heart and listen to the voice inside. She told Moana that listening to that voice would help her figure out who she truly was.
One day, Tui led sixteen-year-old Moana up a mountain. They walked higher and higher, until they reached the tallest peak of Motunui. At the very top, Tui showed Moana an enormous pile of stones.
“I’ve wanted to bring you here from the moment you opened your eyes,” said Tui. “This is a sacred place. A place of chiefs.” Tui stepped toward the stones and put his hand on them. “There will come a time when you embrace what you’re meant to do and who you’re meant to be, and you will stand on this peak and place a stone on this mountain, like I did, like my father did, and his father, and every chief that has ever been. And on that day, by adding your stone, you will lift this whole island higher. You are the future of our people, Moana. And they are not out there.” Tui gestured past the reef, to the vast ocean beyond. “They’re right here.” He put a hand on Moana’s shoulder as the two gazed down toward the village. It was in the distance, at the foot of the mountain. “It’s time to be who they need you to be.”
Moana glanced back at the pile of stones. She reached out and placed her hand on Tui’s stone. This was where her stone would go one day. “Do you think I can?” she asked.
Tui gave Moana a hongi. “You will be a great chief, Moana of Motunui…if you let yourself.”
Moana looked up at her father, thinking about his words and knowing how important it was to him that she follow in his footsteps. She was finally ready. She would take on the responsibility and be the chief her parents wanted her to be.
She turned her head from the ocean and stayed focused on the island, committed to finding happiness right there. Moana assured herself there was no reason to look beyond the island’s reef. Everything she needed and everything she loved was right there.
A few days later, wearing her hei headband decorated with flowers, and with her pet pig, Pua, by her side, she joined her parents and headed to the council meeting. On the way, Moana spotted Gramma Tala dancing with the waves on the shore and paused only a moment before continuing to the council fale.
Drummers banged out a rhythm on large drums as the village council convened. Tui, Sina, and Moana took their places while the drums rapidly built to a dramatic finish. Tui lowered his battle-ax, signaling everyone to sit. Before
he could open his mouth to begin the meeting, a booming voice filled the fale. “PEOPLE OF MOTUNUI!” the official announcer yelled. “CHIEF TUI!”
“Thank y—” Chief Tui began, but the man cut him off again.
“OF MOTUNUI!”
“Thank you,” said Tui as he turned toward the crowd. “One day, Moana will lead our people. I’m proud to say that out in the village today, you’ll see just how far she’s come.” He gazed at his daughter with love and handed her the chief’s battle-ax. Moana smiled, feeling his pride. Everyone turned to her, as she now had the floor.
Moana smiled graciously and took a deep breath, but before she could say anything, the loud voice rang out again. “MOANA OF MOTUNUI!” he screamed right into Moana’s ear. She accidentally dropped the heavy battle-ax, nearly chopping off Pua’s snout!
Throughout the day, Moana was acting Chief of Motunui to the village as her parents observed her making rounds across the island.
When a villager named Maivia complained about his leaky roof, Moana climbed up to the rafters to check it out. Maivia explained to Tui and Sina, “Every storm, the roof leaks on the fire, no matter how many fronds I add—”
From the top of the fale, Moana yelled, “Fixed!” She smiled down at them. “It wasn’t the fronds; the wind shifted the supports,” she said. Then she took a bite of food that Maivia offered her. “That’s good pork.” She saw Pua by her feet and suddenly felt very bad for sharing that so loudly.
Later, Moana stood beside a large man named Tolo, holding his hand as he got a new tattoo on his back.
“Ow. Ow. Ow,” repeated Tolo over and over again, gripping Moana’s hand tighter and tighter.
“You’re doing great,” said Moana, trying to sound normal as she attempted to withstand the pain of his strong squeezes.
Hours later, Moana continued to hold Tolo’s hand even as she felt her hand going numb. “Just five more hours,” she said to Tolo, wincing in pain. He squeezed her hand a bit harder. “Ow. Ow. Ow…”
Moana Junior Novel Page 1
