Through his voyage on Iosepa, Kala Haverly says he reconnected with ancestral heritage, embraced spiritual stewardship and navigated life’s challenges with aloha and faith

On a campus where cultures converge and tides of tradition meet, the Iosepa canoe stands not only as a symbol of Hawaiian heritage, but also as a living classroom for spiritual growth, cultural reconnection and personal transformation, according to Kala Haverly, a sophomore political science major from Hau‘ula. He said his time on the wa‘a has been more than a student experience; it’s been a rediscovery of purpose, identity and legacy.
What began with a profound sense of cultural urgency eventually led Haverly to board Iosepa, he said. While serving a full-time mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the Dominican Republic in 2023, he heard news of the devastating Lāhainā wildfires—a moment he described as a turning point. “It wasn’t just Iosepa I felt was calling me,” said Haverly. “It was the Hawaiian culture itself—a strong, undeniable pull to live and act more as a Hawaiian.”
In the wake of the tragedy, Haverly said he recognized a personal responsibility to live louder—to carry on the values and voices of his ancestors who were no longer able to speak. A few months later, when his father invited him to join the Iosepa crew, he said yes without hesitation, he added.Growing with the wa‘a
Haverly said he grew up immersed in Hawaiian culture. “I grew up speaking Hawaiian. I grew up living and doing Hawaiian cultural values, dancing hula and singing Hawaiian music. I have been doing that since I was young,” he said.
While serving in the Dominican Republic, Haverly said he had to learn how to live with the people—understanding their way of life, embracing their culture and walking alongside them. So when he returned to Hawaii, he said he felt he had to do the same. “After my mission, I told myself I’d do everything the way the natives did,” he said. “I wanted to be like them, to learn from them. And in doing so, I had to relearn a lot of the Hawaiian ways.”
After essentially relearning how to “walk” culturally, he said he began to understand that the experience was preparing him not just to live his culture, but to explain and teach it to others. “And that’s exactly what we do on Iosepa: we teach people what we do, why we do it and what it means to us,” he said.

Ancestral presence
When asked if he ever felt the presence of his ancestors while voyaging, Haverly said he has experienced such moments both during training and while out at sea. He recalled one particularly powerful experience while sailing to Lāhainā. “We thought we were heading to a different port,” he said, “but right before we went in, we found out we were going to Lāhainā Harbor. We all knew what had happened there, and everything became solemn. We could all feel it—this was something significant.”
Being in that space, he said, made a deep spiritual impression. “You are where you need to be. If your ancestors were alive today, they would be doing what you’re doing. They’d be here, trying to bring light to these people at this time.”
“That,” he added, “is how I stay connected to them—by doing the work they would have done and walking the path they’ve laid before me.”
Voyaging as a metaphor
Haverly compared voyaging to life, using a lesson he learned during a particularly formative year. “Something I learned that year was you can always control your sheet lines,” he explained, referring to the ropes that adjust sail angle and speed. “If you want to be safer and take it slower, you can just close your sails and take things that are harder a lot more easily.”
He said the same principle applies off the wa‘a. “In life, you can always change how much is on your plate. Let go of certain things, and your life isn’t going to be as hectic.”
Reflecting on the most important value he’s learned from voyaging, Haverly emphasized the power of caring. “On the wa‘a, you can’t get rid of these people,” he said. “If they’re mad, it’s your problem. If they’re sad, it’s your problem. You need their help to move the boat, to do whatever. You care about what’s important to them, and you help them navigate the ocean.”
That principle, he added, mirrors life and aligns with his faith. “It alludes to the gospel. We are all brothers and sisters. And if you care about those around you—if you love them—your life will be so much better.”
Lessons in leadership
As an anchor watch captain, Haverly said the weight of responsibility initially felt overwhelming. “If something bad happens, it’s on you,” he said. “It’s not really on the crew. It’s on you.”
However, he shared that through faith and self-trust, he gained confidence in his role. “As I trusted in the Lord, I trusted in myself,” he said. “I just went on and did it. I realized, like, wow, I really can trust myself to be a leader. It doesn’t matter if problems come up—I can handle it. I will know how to make informed and inspired decisions.”
To Haverly, stewardship is more than just a duty—it’s a path to growth. “It’s not like, ‘Oh, I have to be afraid because if I mess up, I’m gonna be in trouble,’” he explained. “Stewardship is also empowering. Because I was given that responsibility, I was able to grow my leadership skills.”
He added that genuine leadership begins with love and vision. “If you care about people—if you truly love them and see them as Christ sees them—you start to understand not just their problems or difficulties, but their strengths,” he said. “You’re able to realize, ‘Hey, this person is really good at this, and I need that.’”

Legacy and the voice of Iosepa
Haverly said he often thinks about his future children when sailing. “I know one of the crew has definitely heard me say, at least once, ‘In 20 years, our kids will be sailing Iosepa,’ or ‘In 10 years, we’ll be telling our kids about Iosepa.’”
He shared the legacy he hopes to leave. “I want my kids to know, ‘Hey, I’m Hawaiian, and sailing Iosepa is part of who we are.’ Even though we might be Polynesian, sometimes people see Iosepa as ‘those trained guys.’ But to me, this is our community. The canoe belongs to our people,” he expressed.
When asked what Iosepa might say if it could speak, Haverly smiled and said he imagined it would be grateful: “Thank you for sailing me. Thank you for taking me to places I’ve never been before. Thank you for helping me bring light to others.”
Then, with a chuckle, Haverly added, “And he’d probably ask, ‘So, when are we doing this again?’”
To Haverly, Iosepa is more than a canoe—it’s family. “He brings people together and just wants to be out there,” he said.Advice to cultural navigators
To those striving to preserve or adapt their culture, Haverly shared his perspective. “There is a higher culture—the gospel culture. Anything that is true, that builds upon the gospel and helps you live the gospel better, is truth. It is important and valuable not just to you, but to God,” he said.
He added, “I feel the Spirit most strongly when I do those cultural things that also support the gospel. So I invite people: if you’re trying to preserve your culture, take what is good and supports the gospel, and live with that.”
Haverly extended the same advice to those learning a new culture. “It’s the same thing: take what’s good and leave the rest. You’re making your own way of living the gospel. How you feel the Spirit matters to God, and it matters to you. Keep what’s good. Keep what works.”