One of the earliest examples of science fiction in an Australian children's book.

This book describes the Pacific Ocean, presenting information on its exploration and mapping, its dangers, and its resources.

Transport yourself to the misty reaches of the Pacific Northwest with Fog & Shadows, an anthology of captivating mysteries that unfold in the region's most iconic settings. From the lonely depths of the endless evergreen forests to the rugged coastline where sea and storm collide, each story immerses you in the untamed beauty of the Northwest while unraveling secrets as thick as the coastal fog. This collection features works from a diverse group of talented authors, each weaving narratives of suspense and intrigue with deft twists, that take place across the cities, small towns, and wild terrains of this majestic region of the world. Whether it's a cold case solved by a curious young boy, a panicked self-assurance of one's own innocence, or increasing encounters with a certain type of standoffish drifter, these stories are steeped in the lore of a place where nature itself seems to guard its own engimas. Fog & Shadows delivers an unforgettable journey through one of the most mysterious corners of the world. Let the fog roll in and the suspense build-because in the Pacific Northwest, every shadow hides a secret.

The enduring popularity of Polynesia in western literature, art, and film attests to the pleasures that Pacific islands have, over the centuries, afforded the consuming gaze of the west—connoting solitude, release from cares, and, more recently, self-renewal away from urbanized modern life. Facing the Pacific is the first study to offer a detailed look at the United States’ intense engagement with the myth of the South Seas just after the First World War, when, at home, a popular vogue for all things Polynesian seemed to echo the expansion of U.S. imperialist activities abroad. Jeffrey Geiger looks at a variety of texts that helped to invent a vision of Polynesia for U.S. audiences, focusing on a group of writers and filmmakers whose mutual fascination with the South Pacific drew them together—and would eventually drive some of them apart. Key figures discussed in this volume are Frederick O’Brien, author of the bestseller White Shadows in the South Seas; filmmaker Robert Flaherty and his wife, Frances Hubbard Flaherty, who collaborated on Moana; director W. S. Van Dyke, who worked with Robert Flaherty on MGM’s adaptation of White Shadows; and Expressionist director F. W. Murnau, whose last film, Tabu, was co-directed with Flaherty.

Not ships, but nations are the prey of the sinister Oriental mastermind, Tom Too. Only Doc and friends can save the world from his lethal legions.

This book offers engagements with topics in mainline theology that concern the lifelines in and of the Pacific (Pasifika). The essays are grouped into three clusters. The first, Roots, explores the many roots from which theologies in and of Pasifika grow – sea and (is)land, Christian teachings and scriptures, native traditions and island ways. The second, Reads, presents theologies informed and inspired by readings of written and oral texts, missionary traps and propaganda, and teachings and practices of local churches. The final cluster, Routes, places Pasifika theologies upon the waters so that they may navigate and voyage. The ‘amanaki (hope) of this work is in keeping talanoa (dialogue) going, in pushing back tendencies to wedge the theologies in and of Pasifika, and in putting native wisdom upon the waters. As these Christian and native theologies voyage, they chart Pasifika’s sea of theologies.

The Pacific Crossing Guide is a complete reference for anyone contemplating sailing the Pacific in their own boat. From ideal timing, suitable boats, routes, methods of communication and provisioning to seasonal weather, departure and arrival ports, facilities, likely costs and dangers, the comprehensiveness of this new edition will both inspire dreamers and instil confidence in those about to depart. This is the definitive reference on the subject, relied upon by many thousands of cruisers. 'The definitive work on Pacific crossings' Cruising 'A magnum opus of excellence' Flying Fish

It was the 9th of March, 1860, and eleven o’clock at night. The sea and sky were as one, and the eye could pierce but a few fathoms into the gloom. Through the raging sea, over which the waves broke with a livid light, a little ship was driving under almost bare poles. She was a schooner of a hundred tons. Her name was the Sleuth, but you would have sought it in vain on her stern, for an accident of some sort had torn it away. In this latitude, at the beginning of March, the nights are short. The day would dawn about five o’clock. But would the dangers that threatened the schooner grow less when the sun illumined the sky? Was not the frail vessel at the mercy of the waves? Undoubtedly; and only the calming of the billows and the lulling of the gale could save her from that most awful of shipwrecks — foundering in the open sea far from any coast on which the survivors might find safety. In the stern of the schooner were three boys, one about fourteen, the two others about thirteen years of age; these, with a young negro some twelve years old, were at the wheel, and with their united strength strove to check the lurches which threatened every instant to throw the vessel broadside on. It was a difficult task, for the wheel seemed as though it would turn in spite of all they could do, and hurl them against the bulwarks. Just before midnight such a wave came thundering against the stern that it was a wonder the rudder was not unshipped. The boys were thrown backwards by the shock, but they recovered themselves almost immediately. “Does she still steer?” asked one of them. “Yes, Gordon,” answered Briant, who had coolly resumed his place. “Hold on tight, Donagan,” he continued, “and don’t be afraid. There are others besides ourselves to look after. You are not hurt Moko?” “No, Massa Briant,” answered the boy. “But we must keep the yacht before the wind, or we shall be pooped.” At this moment the door of the companion leading to the saloon was thrown open. Two little heads appeared above the level of the deck, and with them came up the genial face of a dog, who saluted with a loud, “Whough! whough!” “Briant! Briant!” shouted one of the youngsters “What is the matter?”