When Tolo’s tattoo was finally complete, he stood up and gave Moana a hug, thanking her for her support. Then he hobbled off, walking stiffly toward his fale as Moana tried to shake the soreness out of her hand.
Tolo’s friend Asoleilei walked by with a big energetic smile and congratulated him. “Manuia!” he shouted, slapping him on the rear. That caused Tolo to wince from the pain, and quickly move away from his friend.
Pua tried to keep up as Moana continued the village rounds, helping anyone who needed it. Two little girls and a little boy ran up to her, out of breath, and launched into a story. They spoke loud and fast, talking over each other, as they tried to explain.
“Lua hit me,” said Loa.
“And Loa hit me back,” said Lua.
“But Loa was like, Wawomodo?” said Loa.
“‘What would Moana do?’” explained La’a.
“Which is just be awesome,” said Lua.
“So she stopped punching my face,” said Loa.
“And made you a picture,” said La’a.
The kids held up a terrible drawing of Moana stopping a fierce, bloody fight. Moana stared at it, trying to decide how to react.
“That’s blood,” Lua pointed out.
Moana smiled and took the drawing, thanking each of them for the special gift.
Later, a village cook named Vela found Moana and approached her with a question.
“I was wondering about the chicken there eating the rock,” Vela said. She gestured to Heihei, a wacky-looking rooster with expressionless, crooked eyes who was trying to swallow a stone. “He seems to lack the minimum intelligence required for self-preservation. Would it be more humane to just cook him?”
Moana watched as Heihei coughed up the stone and then went back to pecking at it. “Well, sometimes our strengths lie beneath the surface,” she said. “Far beneath, in some cases. But I’m sure there’s more to Heihei than meets the eye.”
As Moana continued on her rounds, she met a troubled farmer who showed her the latest crop of coconuts.
“It’s the harvest,” the farmer said. “This morning, I was cleaning the coconuts, and…” Moana cracked open a seemingly healthy coconut, revealing its black, rotten insides. She leaned in to take a closer look. Tui and Sina peered over Moana to get a glimpse of the terrible sight. Everyone looked at her, waiting to see what she would say.
“Well, um…we should clear the diseased trees. And move to a new grove.” Moana pointed to an unclaimed area of land and said, “There.”
The farmer nodded in agreement, and Tui and Sina exchanged a proud look.
Feeling great, Moana turned toward her loving parents and the majestic mountain behind them. Then she looked out to the blue ocean, deep in thought. She loved her family, her island, and her village. And she wanted to do what was right for everyone. Finally, she glanced at her father with a sly smile.
“I was thinking I might skip dinner,” she said.
“Is everything all right?” asked Tui, concerned.
“Mmm-hmm. I’d rather just take a walk…up the mountain,” Moana said, her smile widening.
It took a moment for Tui to understand what she was really saying. Finally, he grinned and stumbled over his words, too proud and happy to speak clearly. “You…Yes, if…So you…” Tui said to Sina. “She’s…Moana wants to take a walk up the mountain.” He lowered his head and quietly added, “She means her stone.”
Sina smiled, amused. “I got that.”
As they headed to their fale, a fisherman named Lasalo hurried over to them. “Am I too late?” he asked.
Tui stepped up to the man. “Actually, Moana needs to—”
“How can I help?” asked Moana, facing the fisherman.
Lasalo somberly led Moana to the beach, with Tui and Sina behind them. They stood next to the fishing boat as the fisherman lifted out a net and showed it to Moana. It was completely empty.
“Our nets in the east lagoon are pulling up less and less,” Lasalo said.
“Well, then we’ll rotate the fishing grounds,” said Moana.
“We’ll rotate the fishing grounds,” Tui repeated.
Anxious to get Moana up to Motunui’s tallest peak, Tui tried to usher her away. But Lasalo continued. “Uh, we have no fish,” he said.
“Oh, then we’ll fish the far side of the island,” offered Moana, gesturing toward it.
“We tried,” said Lasalo.
“The windward side?” she asked, her concern growing.
“And the leeward side, the shallows, the channel; we’ve tried the whole lagoon! They’re just gone,” Lasalo said.
Moana’s face fell as she stared down the beach at the other fishing boats, all returning with empty nets. It wasn’t too long ago that she’d watch the boats come in hauling nets bursting with fish. She wondered, How could they all be gone?
“I will talk to the council,” said Tui. “I’m sure we can find a solution.”
Moana looked toward the lagoon and her eyes moved beyond the reef to the open ocean; it was new territory. The fishermen had not cast their nets there. She climbed up on a boat to get a better view and took in the vastness of the sea. It was the obvious choice.
“What if…we fish beyond the reef?” Moana asked.
The fishermen seemed surprised. Tui and Sina were completely shocked.
“No one goes beyond the reef,” Tui said, trying to stay calm.
“I know, but if we have no fish in the lagoon—”
“Moana—”
“And there’s a whole ocean—”
Tui tried to reach for her, but Moana stepped to the front of the boat.
“We have one rule,” Tui said, raising his voice.
“An old rule, when there were fish—”
“A rule that keeps us safe instead of endangering our people!” yelled Tui.
Moana stared at her father, feeling both angry and ashamed of his outburst.
Tui was furious. He knew in his heart that Moana would always yearn to sail the open ocean, and he felt that she was selfishly looking for an excuse to do just that. He gritted his teeth, watching Moana standing steadfast on the boat, and then he pulled her back to the sand.
“Every time I think you’re past this…” Tui said. Then he walked away. “No one goes beyond the reef!” he shouted as he picked up his pace, fuming.
On the shore, Moana grunted as she angrily hurled a coconut to the ground in an attempt to vent her frustrations. She picked up one after another. She hit them with an oar, trying to drive them into the sand, even as her mother approached.
“At least you didn’t say it in front of everybody, standing on a boat,” said Sina, trying to lighten the mood.
Moana whacked another coconut.
“I didn’t say ‘fish beyond the reef’ because I want to be on the ocean.”
“But you still do,” said Sina gently. She glanced down at Moana’s hand tightly gripping the oar and sighed.
Unable to deny it, Moana turned away. It was true; she still heard the ocean’s call and longed to explore it.
Sina continued. “He’s hard on you because—”
“Because he doesn’t get me,” Moana said.
“Because he was you,” Sina corrected her. “Drawn to the water, he took a boat, Moana. He crossed the reef and found an unforgiving sea. Waves like mountains. His best friend begged to be out on that boat. Your father couldn’t save him.” Sina’s voice trailed off; the memory was too sad to relive. She looked lovingly at Moana. “He’s hoping he can save you.”
Moana’s anger turned to sadness and guilt. In the village, she could see Tui dealing with the panicked villagers. She knew how much her father loved the people of Motunui and how heavy the responsibility of protecting them lay upon his shoulders. She felt terrible.
Moana wished her father understood that she loved the people, too. That was why she wanted to go beyond the reef—to find fish. So that everyone would have plenty to eat.
“Sometimes, who
we wish we were, what we wish we could do…it’s just not meant to be.” Sina took the oar from Moana and put it on the ground.
“If you were me, what would you do?” asked Moana.
Sina brushed the hair away from Moana’s face. “We must make our own choices, my little minnow,” she said. “No matter how hard they may be.” She left Moana alone to think about what she had said.
Moana focused on the horizon. In her imagination, the sea seemed endless and full of possibility. With thoughts flooding her mind, she walked up to the highest peak on Motunui. At the top, she held a stone in her hand, trying to sort out her feelings.
She wanted to make her parents and her village proud. She wanted to do what was right. But how could she quiet the voice inside her? She couldn’t help her curiosity about the ocean. She wondered how far the sea went and what was out there. She also wondered why the voice inside her seemed so different from everybody else’s. And how would she ever make peace with her father’s wishes for her future?
The sun’s reflection off the ocean sparkled in her eyes as the water called to her. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t ignore it. She couldn’t pretend to be someone she wasn’t. She dropped the stone and ran down to the shore.
Pua picked up the oar in his mouth and offered it to her before he hopped on a small boat as Moana pushed it into the water. The boat wobbled a bit as Moana found her balance, and Pua seemed more than a little nervous.
“We’re okay, Pua,” said Moana, trying to find her confidence. “There’s more fish beyond the reef. There’s more beyond the reef.”
She paddled out into the water, feeling a rush of excitement as a wave carried her high on its crest. But then the wind changed and the boom swung toward her! It just missed her head. But as Moana breathed a sigh of relief, a massive wave rushed toward her, breaking before she could react. It slammed into the boat and knocked Pua overboard! The little pig flailed around, struggling to stay afloat.
“Pua!” Moana yelled, trying to get to him. But an even bigger wave crashed down, knocking her into the sea as well. She surfaced with Pua in her arms and shoved him onto the broken outrigger. A moment later, rough waves caused the boat to slam into her head and push her underwater.
Her foot was wedged into a cluster of coral on the ocean floor, trapping Moana underwater. She strained as she tried to swim upward, but she was unable to wriggle free.
Spotting a rock, she grabbed it and smashed the coral, releasing her foot. Using all her might, she pushed off the ocean floor and shot up, gasping for air.
The waves finally pushed Moana and Pua up onto Motunui’s sandy shore. Completely unaffected by the ordeal, Pua gave Moana a cheerful lick and ran off to chase birds. Moana breathed heavily, happy to fill her lungs with air as she collected herself. She looked down at her foot, scraped and bleeding from the sharp coral. The boat she had borrowed was smashed to pieces, which floated in the water and washed up onto the sand. She knew she would be in big trouble for what she had done.
“Whatever just happened…blame it on the pig,” said a familiar voice.
Moana turned to see Gramma Tala emerging from behind some flowering shrubs.
“Gramma?” Moana asked, moving her foot behind her as she tried to hide it. But Gramma Tala placed her walking stick behind Moana’s ankle and used it to pick up her leg, getting a closer look at the wound. “Are you gonna tell Dad?” Moana asked.
“If you lost a toe, maybe,” Gramma Tala said.
More pieces of the broken boat washed up beside them. Moana shook her head. “He was right about going out there,” she said. She felt a momentary sense of relief. “It’s time. I’m putting my stone on the mountain.”
Gramma Tala studied Moana’s face for a moment. Then she looked back at the ocean and breathed in the salty air. Suddenly, a school of elegant manta rays swam up, gracefully flapping their fins.
Gramma Tala pushed past Moana to get closer to them as they slid through the water. Moana could see the big manta ray tattoo stretched across her grandmother’s back as she watched the animals.
“Well, okay then,” Gramma Tala said. “Head on back; put that stone up there.”
Moana started to walk away. But she turned back to Gramma Tala after taking only a few steps. “Why aren’t you trying to talk me out of it?” she asked.
“Because you said that’s what you wanted,” said Gramma Tala.
“It is,” said Moana.
Gramma Tala nodded without saying a word.
Moana headed back toward the village. But just as she was about to cross the flowering shrubs that lined the beach, Gramma Tala spoke up. “When I die, I’m going to come back as one of these,” she said, gesturing to the manta rays as they continued to swim, swirling in front of her in a circle. Her tattoo wiggled between her shoulders as she danced, swinging her hips and moving her arms in time with the waves striking the shore. “Or I chose the wrong tattoo.” She looked back at Moana with a smirk.
“Why are you acting weird?” asked Moana.
“I’m the village crazy lady…that’s my job,” Gramma Tala replied.
“If there’s something you want to tell me, just tell me,” said Moana. She sounded almost desperate for her grandmother’s advice. It would be nice to hear someone say she should listen to the call of the ocean. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
Gramma Tala leaned in and whispered, “Is there something you want to hear?” Then she smiled mysteriously and hobbled off, using her walking stick to help her over the rough terrain. Moana followed right behind, and she couldn’t help but smile, too. She didn’t know where Gramma Tala was going, but wherever it was, it would be an adventure. And it would involve a story.
At the very edge of the island, the moon glowed high above. Gramma Tala carried a torch and climbed a steep path, with Moana following. It was a treacherous path of jagged lava rocks along dark crashing waves that erupted in sprays of sea foam. Gramma Tala stopped for a moment to catch her breath before continuing. Moana tried to help her, but Gramma Tala shooed her away, determined to do it on her own.
“You’ve been told all our people’s stories…but one,” said Gramma Tala, continuing the climb. She held up her walking stick and used it to move aside a tangle of overgrown vines. Behind them were large stones that blocked a hidden lava tube. Gramma Tala used her stick to try to loosen one of the stones, but it wouldn’t budge.
“What is this place?” asked Moana, helping to move the rock.
“You really think our ancestors stayed within the reef?” Gramma Tala asked, her eyes flashing in the dancing light of the torch.
Moana knocked down the rest of the rocks, revealing a large opening. A gust of wind whipped through the cavern, blowing her hair from her face and sending a chill that tingled through her body.
“Ooooooh,” Gramma Tala said with an air of mystery.
“What’s in there?” Moana asked, her curiosity growing by the second.
“The answer.”
“To what?”
“The question you keep asking yourself. Who are you meant to be?” Gramma Tala handed her the torch. “Go inside…bang the drum…and find out.”
Moana stared into the darkness for a moment before slowly climbing through the hole and into the dark lava tube.
Carefully placing one foot in front of the other, she walked past dripping walls. As she moved deeper, a low rumbling sound began to build, and soon she could tell it was the sound of a waterfall. Intrigued, she picked up her pace. When she stepped around an enormous boulder, she saw something that nearly knocked her to her knees—a giant hidden cavern filled with dozens of ocean-voyaging boats!
She rushed toward the boats in awe and ran her hand along their smooth wooden sides, looking up at the majestic sails towering above. She jumped from boat to boat, exploring them, amazed by their beauty and intrigued by the adventures they must have seen.
The wide waterfall poured into the cavern’s glistening pool. It also helped
disguise the entrance from the sea so that it could not be seen from the outside. A canoe floated at the foot of the waterfall. Excited, Moana jumped onto the hull and maneuvered the boom. As the sail swung around, it revealed a massive double-hulled canoe behind it. Each hull was a support float that helped the boat stay steady on the ocean. Moana knew by looking at it, that the canoe had carried many things.
Moana climbed onto the double-hulled canoe’s upper deck and noticed a log drum. “Bang the drum,” she said to herself, repeating her grandmother’s words.
Moana picked up a thick pair of wooden sticks that sat beside the drum and tentatively banged on it. Nothing happened. She banged again, this time a bit louder, and waited, wondering if something was going to happen. It was quiet for another moment, but then suddenly she heard an echo—a rhythm as clear as an old, familiar song.
Moana listened carefully, then banged out the same rhythm, and something did happen. Whoosh! The chilly wind returned, and lines of torches magically lit, illuminating the tapa sail of the boat.
Moana stared at the sail as it filled with wind and began to move, rhythmically waving. The drum continued to play, banging out an ancient pattern that reverberated against the stone cavern walls, filling it with music.
In Moana’s imagination, a shadowy sea came to life on the sail, as if it were right in front of her. It played out the story of her ancestors: voyagers who navigated the ocean by the wind, the moon, and the stars at night. They used the sun, waves, and currents to find their way during the day. Captivated, Moana watched as the sail showed how the adventurous group voyaged from island to island over the rolling swells of the ocean, unafraid of its endlessness, unafraid of the far-off horizon line. They were confident and proud. And when it was time to find a new home, they bravely sailed across the ocean to find one.
“We were voyagers,” Moana said, letting the surprising fact sink into her mind. “We were voyagers!” she repeated. She could hardly contain her excitement.
Outside the secret cavern, Gramma Tala could hear Moana as she raced back out yelling, “WE WERE VOYAGERS!” Shaking, she sat down next to Gramma Tala on a rock and asked, “Why’d we stop?”
Moana Junior Novel Page 2
