Joe started playing ʽukulele when he was nine and eventually became intrigued with the fine shadings of sound produced by the instrument, leading him to become a master ʽukulele builder. While working as a fireman, he began to learn the craft from master luthier, “Uncle Pete” Burmudez. Joe swept the floor, watched, and started tinkering on his own.
Eventually Joe started crafting ʽukulele in a patio workspace in his Heʽeia, Oʽahu home and in 1998, created Kanileʽa ʽUkulele, an internationally-known producer of world-class instruments, producing about 2400 ʽukulele a year. Then realizing that all those beautiful nuanced sounds are vibrations from deep in the soul of the koa (Acacia koa) tree, he went looking for the source.
In 1998 when Joe won an interisland trip in a falsetto-singing contest, he and Kristen decided to go to Kauaʽi to look for a place to plant a forest. “We drove around with our oldest son Kaimana and found these beautiful properties up in the mountains and just imagined planting trees, but nothing really stood out,” says Kristen.
Several years later, “I was sitting on the couch one day and something told me to look up property on Hawaiʽi Island,” recalls Kristen. The first property that popped up online was a 96-acre parcel within Hōkūkano Ranch, the combined properties of Greenwell Estate and Kealakekua Ranches, purchased by the Pace family in 1986 and 2004, respectively.
Kristen called their real estate agent and the next day they were on an airplane to Hawaiʽi Island from Oʽahu. “We’re going up through Hōkūkano Ranch. It was beautiful. There’s horses, sheep, llamas, buffalos, turkeys. And then we drove up into the forest with all these native trees. It was amazing.” Within two days of that first phone call in 2014, Joe and Kristen Souza purchased the property, began their journey into the forest, and haven’t looked back.
Kristen, who literally hums with energy, meets me at the Hōkūkano Ranch gate and we travel upland to the forest. As we enter Reforest Hawaiʽi, we are greeted by young koa trees. “Pōmaikaʽi Lyman planted this one for her grandmother, who is Auntie Genoa Keawe. We wanted her right at the entrance to guide us in,” explains Kristen.
Passing through towering ʽōhiʽa (Metrosideros polymorpha), koa, and a forest floor choked with native understory plants, the road up to the 4000-foot parcel, an ancient mauka-makai (mountain to sea) trail, opens up into a clearing bursting with life, a small compound of cabins, and a greenhouse. We are surrounded by lush trees over 20 feet tall that simply radiate life and the sense that they are standing watch.
“Those were all planted in 2016. The first day we walked here as the new stewards, we had no idea, other than this is what we had to do. But now that we are here we can appreciate this deeper forest and have a better understanding of our kūpuna (elders) and who we are as a people. Not only did the journey of the ʽukulele start here, but also the journey of who we are as Hawaiians started here,” says Joe.
To work towards creating a bio-diverse forest, the Souzas have gleaned knowledge from cultural practitioners, and reforestation experts. “We’re learning how to create a successful bio-diverse forest. The first out-planting, I'd say we were in preschool. But even just knowing what we did, out of the 5000 keiki (seedlings) we planted we only lost five,” says Joe.
One might think that because Joe builds ʽukulele that this reforestation effort will provide wood for future instruments, but Joe and Kristen buy their koa from sustainably-farmed sources and there is absolutely no plan to harvest any of the native trees.
“There’s a beautiful old koa tree that lived its life. There are a few keiki volunteers and we got lots of seeds from it, but we didn’t take any of the wood. We just appreciate the beautiful life this kupuna has led, a sentinel in the forest that has seen hundreds if not thousands of people going up and down [the mauka-makai trail the Souzas named Ala Ponoʽī],” explains Joe.
There is tray after tray of koa, māmane (Sophora chrysophylla), māmaki (Pipturus spp.), ʽiliahi, naio (Myoporum sandwicense), and native ferns all waiting to find their place in the forest. The trays fill from the bottom to irrigate the plants daily and the water drains down into buckets and is reused. The Souzas have established a nonprofit, Saving Hawaiʽi’s Forests, and will be seeking funding to improve their irrigation system and expand the capacity of the greenhouse.
To own a Kanileʽa ʽukulele is to become a member of the forest ʽohana, which means planting trees. Today, cultural practitioner and musician Cody Pueo Pata and his partner Keoni Kuoha are on hand to talk story. Pueo and Keoni are both part of Papahana Kualoa, a place-based education program on Heʻeia Stream just minutes from the Souzas’ factory in Kāneʽohe.
“I get to the factory and as an ʻukulele player, the reverberation, the tone, everything about it, I’m instantly in love. I saw their banner: ʽOla Ka ʽĀina, Ola Ke Kanaka’ (When the land lives, the people live) and then their work ethic and their manaʽo about what they’re actually trying to do and I went home and I was so inspired I wrote a song,” recalls Pueo.
Since that time, Pueo has become a historical and cultural advisor for the Souzas, pointing out that the 96-acre parcel, named Nani ʽEkolu, straddles the boundary between North and South Kona and so is a water source for both districts.
Kristen’s passionate aloha is all-encompassing and, “when Kahanuola Solatorio of the group Keauhou wrote “I Pu‘u Lehua,” about the journey entering the forest, the scent of the maile [Alyxia olivaeformis], the birds chirping, the beautiful sunrise, planting your koa tree that is steadfast in the ground, I wanted to dance it at our concert. I needed a kumu (teacher) to teach me and Pueo choreographed the whole dance,” shares Kristen.
Pueo also shares how scientific knowledge of the forest is recorded in stories. “We treat moʻolelo as data bases. A lot of stories are how their kinolau [body forms] interacted in the forest. So when we have these mele or these stories that tell us these things, we know exactly what to expect and what a healthy system is supposed to look like,” explains Pueo.
Kanileʻa, which means “joyful sound,” is derived from a legacy that goes back many generations. “The full name is Kanileʽaokawaonaheleopāʽīʽī and it translates as: to seek a joyful sound and knowledge in the forest,” explains Kristen.
In October 2017, Joe and Kristen added a piece to the picture when they purchased another 162 acres of Hōkūkano Ranch land at the 5000-foot elevation that contains more than 100 seeding ʽiliahi trees. They also plan to construct a nēnē (Hawaiian goose, Nesochen sandvicensis) pond. “We are hoping that if we build the pond, they will fly in,” said Kristen.
Reforest Hawaiʻi stands tall for generational continuity that honors the ancestors and with the help of the Kanileʽa ʽohana and many volunteers, the kūpuna forest will build on into the future. “We want our children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and onwards to have the opportunity to walk in the forest,” concludes Joe.
For more information:
reforesthawaii.org
kanileaukulele.com