From preparing an area that would be home to a 133-tree coconut grove to the beginnings of building a rock wall by hand along the Waiheʻe River, here’s what our Mālama Pono volunteers accomplished alongside Hawaiʻi Land Trust between January and August.
In January, a group of volunteers laid out 44 triangular motu — small planting islands — in an open area at Hawaiʻi Land Trust’s Waiheʻe Coastal Dunes & Wetlands Refuge (HILT). Each motu was carefully spaced to prevent cross-pollination among more than 20 varieties of niu, or coconut, that would soon go into the ground. The number of trees was no accident: 133 niu, one for each year since the illegal overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom under Queen Liliʻuoʻkalani.
It was a meaningful way to begin nine months of work that would move between coastline, riverbank, and loʻi.
A Grove with Meaning
That January planting day launched a project with stakes beyond a single refuge. Niu varieties across Hawaiʻi are being lost to invasive species and development, and the grove at Waiheʻe was designed as a living seed bank — a place where more than a dozen coconut varieties from across Maui could be protected and perpetuated for future generations. By February, volunteers were back in the grove weeding around the young trees, work made more urgent by the spread of the coconut rhinoceros beetle, an invasive pest putting increasing pressure on coconut populations statewide.
By August, volunteers returned to mulch those same niu trees — a meaningful full-circle moment from the January volunteer day. Though niu are not endemic to the Hawaiian Islands, they arrived with the voyagers who first sailed from Polynesia into the archipelago, carrying plants essential to their survival. These “canoe plants,” as they are known, made the long ocean journey alongside the people who planted and tended them, and are regarded today with the same cultural respect and importance as native species. Caring for them at Waiheʻe is caring for that living legacy.
Life Along the Waiheʻe River
In March, the work shifted to the banks of the Waiheʻe River, where volunteers watered native and culturally significant plants, kukui, noni, and kalo, in the māla patches and cleared invasive grasses to make room for more native growth. It was hot, hands-on work, and the day ended the way many did that spring: with volunteers cooling off in the river.
April brought a different kind of lesson. Heavy rainfall from Kona storms flooded the refuge, and for a moment, volunteers could see what the wetlands and loko iʻa kalo — an inland fishpond system — once looked like before water was diverted from the area generations ago. These systems sustained Hawaiian communities for hundreds of years, and Ka Poholima kāʻeo with Hawaiʻi Land Trust, have been steadily restoring the area and the traditional practices tied to it.
Building a Wall by Hand
That same April day, a separate group of volunteers headed to Kalaehoʻomano, near the mouth of Waiheʻe Stream, to prep the ground for a retaining wall. The work was foundational in the most literal sense: collecting pōhaku (rocks) of every size, weeding, and digging the trench that would make the actual wall-building easier in the weeks ahead.
By May, that wall began to take shape — built entirely without modern tools, following traditional Hawaiian dry-stack methods. Volunteers were welcomed with cultural protocols and shared their intentions to this sacred space before getting to work. Niho, large foundational pōhaku were set first. Smaller pōhaku were wedged between them to “cement” the niho stones in place, with the goal of a structure that could last for generations around the māla, or garden.
June brought a particularly large group of volunteers and a full day’s worth of progress: weeding patches to give native plants room to flourish under an established canopy, then returning to the wall itself. Part of maintaining the wall meant keeping the tall grasses under control. We laid down a weed mat, and reorganized the piles of stones on top— a small but essential step as we continue to build this wall.
From Loʻi to Table
Late June marked a shift from building to harvesting. Volunteers helped bring in kalo from the the loʻi, learning firsthand about a plant that sustained Hawaiʻi’s population before colonization.. It was slow, team-oriented work, the kind that leaves people with real appreciation for the generations of ʻāina stewards who came before. The day ended, as many at Waiheʻe do, with a dip in the river and conversation about what brought everyone to that volunteer day.
In July, volunteers returned to the loʻi to weed existing beds and plant two additional patches — work squarely in line with the goals of the Mālama Pono program: building community while learning to care for the land. Seeing that mission play out in Waiheʻe, volunteers said, made the day feel especially worthwhile.
New Faces, Deepening Sense of Place
July marked two firsts for our Conservation and Outreach team. Norwegian Cruise Line (NCL) crew joined us at the WaiheʻeRefuge to learn about the land and participate in the restoration work happening there while their ship was on charter through the islands.
By August, some the the NCL crew joined us again at the Waiheʻe Coastal Dunes and Wetlands Refuge, where a crew of seven helped mulch a new area being prepared for planting. What made the day stand out was not just the work itself but the intention behind it. Before beginning, the group paused to for protocol: a few moments for each person to voice their intentions, asking for permission to enter a place of deep significance. That moment, volunteers shared, brought a sense of peace and presence to the work that grounded everything that followed.
Why People Keep Coming Back
A late August day at Waiheʻe Coastal Dunes captured something that nine months of field notes can only gesture toward. HILT’s community volunteer Fridays run multiple projects simultaneously. Many hands, many tasks, one shared landscape — and the energy that comes from that kind of collective effort is hard to describe but easy to feel.
Leaving a place better than you found it matters. But understanding, deeply and culturally is why that work is necessary is what transforms a volunteer day into something lasting.
Stepping back to ask questions. Learning the name of the person working beside you. Cooling off in the river at the end of a long morning. These are the things that bring people back to HILT and to this beautiful stretch of land on the windward side of Maui, week after week.
How You Can Help
Nine months of stewarding this space, from removing invasive plants to working in the loʻi, only happens with volunteers willing to keep showing up. If you’d like to join the next round of work with Hawaiʻi Land Trust — planting, weeding, or building alongside our team. Check out our Mālama Pono calendar or look at our volunteer dates on HILT’s website.
