Hawaiian legends and stories persist through upheaval, carrying history and identity across generations
For generations, Hawaiians have passed down knowledge through oral traditions and storytelling, a practice rooted in the culture, said Kali Fermantez, an associate professor at the Jonathan Nāpela Center for Hawaiian & Pacific Studies in the Faculty of Culture, Language & Performing Arts. Known as mo‘olelo, or “stories” in Hawaiian, they have not only carried origin stories but also “impart the sacred genealogical lineages that connect the Hawaiian people to the land, plants and elements,” master storyteller and community leader in the Waipi‘o Valley, Kumu Micah Kamohoalii said in Fodor’s Travel Guide 2022 article titled, “The Incredible Myths and Legends of Hawaii.”
“Our stories teach us the laws of the land and remind us how to behave as people,” Kumu Kamohoalii said. “Our stories are a road map. Stories tell us what is righteous, what is sacred.” Fermantez echoed that understanding, citing a saying by noted kupuna and BYU–Hawaii Hiki Mai chant composer Cy Bridges: “A genealogy of the land is a genealogy of the people.”
Carrying the stories
Kumu Kamohoalii explained moʻolelo refers to “the history of how we became,” a term he prefers over “myth,” which can imply fabrication. Community member Armando Kealohalani Sierra said legends have long been essential to Hawaiian cultural survival, from the creation story of Wākea (Sky Father) and Papahānaumoku (Earth Mother) to the stories of Hawaiian gods Kane, Kanaloa, Kū and Lono. These narratives, Sierra said, remind people of their origins, beliefs and responsibilities.
Sierra said Hawaiian legends are preserved through multiple mediums, including chants (oli), songs (mele), hula, petroglyphs (kiʻi pōhaku) and kupuna or honored elders. Petroglyphs, he explained, are ancient rock carvings found throughout the Hawaiian Islands that may have served as public records. “They commemorated events, births and other significant moments,” Sierra said, adding they functioned as early forms of communication and storytelling that helped preserve Hawaiian culture and traditions.
Living the legends
The legends of Hawaiian gods and belief in multiple deities and spirits continue to shape his family’s traditions through their belief in ʻaumakua, family or personal guardian spirits, Sierra said. “Most Hawaiians have the shark, turtle or owl as their ‘aumakua, but my family’s is the gecko,” he said. “That’s why my mother never let me harm one.”
Sierra said the legend of Mauna Kea also plays a central role in sustaining Hawaiian communal identity and cultural ethics, particularly in discussions about land use. Known as Mauna a Wākea, or the Mountain of the Sky Father, the summit is revered in Hawaiian tradition as the first-born child of Papahānaumoku and Wākea, he said. Regarded as the piko, or navel, of Hawaiʻi Island, Mauna Kea symbolizes both “beginning and ending” and is also associated with the snow goddess Poliʻahu, who is said to descend to the summit during the winter months, he continued, adding to its spiritual significance.
That cultural and spiritual significance, Sierra said, helps explain why proposals such as the Thirty Meter Telescope have generated opposition among many Native Hawaiians. Echoing the principle of mālama ʻāina, or caring for the land, Sierra acknowledged that while astronomy mattered to Hawaiian ancestors, “they used the stars for navigation and respected the cultural traditions of our people.”
For Fermantez, he uses the story of Hawaiian Māui, a demigod and trickster who snared the sun, as a metaphor for how educators engage students. “Māui is a trickster with magic,” he said. “Sometimes modern ‘Māuis’—teachers—have to hook the next generation into learning.”
Fermantez likened Māui’s feats—such as pulling up islands or seeking the secret of fire—to the work of research and education. Pulling up islands, he said, mirrors the process of uncovering knowledge that has been forgotten or overlooked, while Maui’s search for fire represents inquiry and the pursuit of understanding. “That’s research,” he said, “describing it as the act of retrieving and sharing knowledge from the past for new generations.”
Fermantez, who is from Oʻahu’s North Shore, said he also identifies with Kamapuaʻa, the Hawaiian pig demigod closely associated with that region. He pointed to a story in which Kamapuaʻa, despite having his “back against the wall,” ultimately saved his people. That narrative, he said, guides his commitment to caring for his community. “I identify with these legends, I apply them [not only] in my teaching, but also in my way of being,” he said.
Story vs. history
In Hawaiian culture, the word moʻolelo does not separate history from story—it holds both, Fermantez said. At the same time, Fermantez noted oral transmission always carries risk, creating a line between history and legend. He pointed to popular retellings such as “Chief of War”, an Apple TV+ Hawaiian historical drama series, as an example. “It’s based on history, but it’s not totally accurate,” he said. “There is storytelling involved.” Oral traditions, where stories are passed from generation to generation, naturally shift over time shaped by memory, context and who is doing the telling, Sierra said.
That risk was intensified by political and cultural suppression, Fermantez said, especially with the overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom in the late 1800s, when speaking the Hawaiian language and performing hula were made illegal, according to the article “The Incredible Myths and Legends of Hawaii.” Fermantez said the Hawaiian Renaissance of the 1970s marked a cultural return, reviving practices such as hula, traditional voyaging and storytelling.
Even so, Fermantez said many students may not fully understand the extent of colonization and assimilation, or the challenges of cultural recovery. “There’s always a risk in transmitting knowledge,” he said. “It connects to how stories move between older and younger generations, and there’s often a gap.”
“Sometimes kupuna won’t share things because they are sacred, guarded, or they don’t want to share. That’s their prerogative, so something can be lost too. Also, does the younger generation always want to hear what the older generation has to say? There’s always a risk of loss in transfer,” Fermantez said. Because of these gaps, he said learners carry a responsibility to approach Hawaiian legends carefully and critically by consulting multiple sources, considering sources, context, perspective and recognizing the authority of knowledgeable kupuna.