Long before the invention of maps, our ancestors crossed oceans by reading the world around them. This is the story of two Pacific Islanders who dared to relearn that knowledge. What began with a simple Craigslist search became something far bigger: a wind-powered voyage across the Pacific, from California to Hawai'i. Over 22 days, they traveled 2,600 miles, guided by the stars, their ancestors, and the ocean.

It’s impossible to introduce Ethnomads (“ethical nomads”) without starting with the two incredible people behind it. Chris (aka Mysto), was born and raised in Oʻahu, and sees the world as his playground. You can feel it in everything he does: surfing waves, skating pavement, painting murals, and creating films that inspire. Keʻili grew up surfing in Carlsbad and carries deep lineage in Kauaʻi and Oʻahu. She’s a passionate marine biologist with a master’s in sustainability, shaped by work documenting seaweed species and testing water quality around Oʻahu. 

While Chris and Keʻili were living together in California, they shared a curiosity for canoes, and on a whim decided to act on it. A simple Craigslist search with low expectations led them to a listing posted from the local desert just days earlier. They figured it couldn’t hurt to go see it for themselves. 

It was love at first sight. They’d never seen a vessel that captured the spirit and design of a Hawaiian voyaging canoe so closely. From a leap of faith, they bought it and began restoring it. They named it ʻAʻā, meaning “to dare (to do something).” The vessel lived up to its name as their next step became clear: they needed to bring it home to Hawaii from California, and they dared to do it themselves. 

Drawing courage from their community and the traditions that shape us all, Chris and Keʻili reignited the courage and bravery of the great voyagers that came before them. Setting out to prove that voyaging was not a thing of the past—they and their friend Kalani decided to sail home with only wind power. 

Though the ocean tested them early with tricky weather, and many challenges including a broken compass arose, they persevered—completing the voyage and proving that ancient knowledge isn’t lost. It’s waiting to be remembered. By the time they reached Hawaiʻi, the journey had become more than a crossing. It was a return to culture, connection, and to themselves. A reminder that sometimes, you have to leave everything behind to find your way back to yourself.

We sat down with Chris and Keʻili to talk about what the journey taught them, what stayed with them long after land came into view, and how leaving can become a powerful way to return to yourself. Follow their travels at @ethnomads. 

At prAna, our motto is “Live the Experience”. When you reflect on your voyage from California to Hawai‘i, which part of the experience holds the most meaning?
Keʻili: To me, the voyage was a matter of self-discovery and a rite of passage. Literally leaving the place I was born and raised, San Diego, and headed towards the same tiny islands in the Pacific that my ancestors voyaged to long ago. 
Chris: For me, the part which holds the most meaning is that Kalani and Ke'ili believed in me enough to go [on this journey across the Pacific]. Real friendship requires lots of courage.   

It’s hard to imagine the full range of physical and mental challenges of being out in the middle of the ocean for almost a month. How did you stay grounded?
Keʻili: Something that kept me grounded was reading. I love how fiction novels transport you into a fantastical new world. Our friends also wrote us letters to keep us going through dark times, I turned to reading those often on calm mornings I needed comfort and comedic relief. 
Chris: Rejoicing always! The fact that we were out there, thousands of miles away [from land], and headed home, was awesome.   

You’ve talked about the importance of “cracking the code” of Indigenous sustainability. What’s one indigenous sustainability practice you’ve learned that blew your mind?
Keʻili: An ʻōlelo noʻeau (a hawaiian proverb) that we turn to a lot is "he moku, he waʻa, he waʻa he moku" which translates to, "your island is your canoe, your canoe is your island". It reflects sustainability beautifully. We only have a small canoe, island, planet—with limited supplies. So, we must learn to pack light, trust our abilities, and use it all intentionally. 
Chris: That's a Ke'ili question! But for me, the value of water always blows my mind. It's the magical nectar of life that we are surrounded by—but we still struggle to manage it.   

When people follow Ethnomads—whether through film, storytelling, or your travels—what do you hope it moves them to do?
Keʻili: I hope that it provides a positive outlook and shows people that child-like adventure is still out there and achievable, no matter the budget or range. It might be a winter dive in the backyard or it might be doing something that others might think is crazy or uncomfortable but adds juicy flavor back to mundane life! 
Chris: I hope it inspires them to live their life unbound by social pressures and time!   

This season at prAna is all about traveling to find your way back to yourself. What does “coming back to yourself” look like for each of you?
Keʻili: Coming back to myself means coming back to that childlike adventurous spirit, staying curious and kind to the people and places around me. This canoe has provided me with a way to do that, while weaving in the stories of my ancestors and how we might better plan the future. I think that past generations have a lot to teach us about how to best move forward with integrity and sustainability. 
Chris: I think it's a statement of humility. Sailing is awesome because you’re constantly discovering that you’re wrong. It keeps you honest, grounded, and open to learning—about the ocean and about yourself.