evolution of a cacao farm
our story
To tell a story is to define a time period, an event, a place, a person, a coming-of-age. To condense, aggregate, and disseminate a set of words, of facts into a clear unfolding of… a version of the truth. Because that’s what it is, isn’t it? Simply, a version of the truth. To arrive here, now, today at Lavaloha is to see something decidedly different than a year ago, let alone twenty years ago. Heck, we could roll things back to the birth of this land because that is remarkably traceable.
first came the land
We’ll make this first part quick. It all started with a hotspot beneath the Pacific Plate. As lava spewed up through the ocean floor it cooled into a landmass of great proportions that eventually popped its peak out above sea level to get a view of its vast and desolate ocean home that lay before it- though it did have a few neighbors that arrived through the same process. Eventually that little peak became a big one, towering 13,803’ above sea level. Mauna Kea- Hawaiian for “White Mountain” due to the occasional snow that adorns the high peak, is our home. On the flanks of this monolith, the trade winds wisp along verdant hillsides where our farm is located.
then came the settlers
The original Polynesian settlers who found themselves in this district found loads of wai, or water. The repetition of this word, waiwai, translates to wealth or value. In a subsistent culture, water is all that sustains. We need it for drinking, for growing crops, for cleansing both ourselves and our lands. So, here at this particular farm, stitched together by intersecting streams both above ground and below, the hills were abundant. As soon as people arrived, this hillside fed people with staple crops like ulu (breadfruit) that were brought to the islands on canoes with the original settlers. We weren’t here yet, obviously, but by all feasible estimations it was gorgeous.
sugar cane was king
Many years later, sugar cane became king. It transformed the nature of feeding people (enter: global economy), the culture, the very soil we stand on. Yet with the transformative nature of these islands came the eventual end of the sugarcane industry. Strained by surging land and labor costs, the industry collapsed in this area in the 80s, the land left to smaller farmers of sweet potato and Macadamia nuts among other things.
new caretakers
2002: Enter team Lavaloha 1.0, a motley crew of engineers, musicians, mechanics, artists, and farmers pulling together their collective talents and dreams. The land was cleaned up, experimented with, moved around a bit. Some things grew (CACAO!) some things didn’t (mangoes). Sometimes it rained so much the land turned to goo and literally ate whole pieces of equipment. You think I’m joking.
bringing things back to life
Early farming of the land brought plenty of lychee, longan, and most importantly cacao. As the cacao sprouted it’s deceivingly autumnal red leaves, projects kept coming. Bit by bit, the farm started to take shape. Hillsides once looted with black plastic and torn apart by harvests gone by, were now sprinkled with hopeful young fruit trees. Old cane roads saw regular traffic again, their base well-established but obscured by weeds for years.
the learning curve
When the cacao started producing enough fruit for chocolate production, experimentation of a culinary nature began. Gathered around makeshift tools fashioned with 2x4s and pvc, a crew of friends hand- cracked the first pods. They worked into the evening at a snail’s pace in comparison to today’s harvests. Step-by-step of the process developed like this. After all, cacao growing and chocolate production are a burgeoning business, it’s not an inherited industry with tidbits of useful information passed down through generations of workers. Nope, in many ways Hawaii is the wild west of cacao production. We are learning as we go- defining our own standards- standards of ethical worker conditions, bean quality, and single-origin production.
Today at Lavaloha you’ll still find an eclectic group of workers with backgrounds spanning a great many fields, cultural backgrounds and perspectives, albeit a mostly different cast of characters than the early team. Truth be told, many of us were still in school when the first cacao was being planted. Our chocolate is no longer one big experiment, though we are always trying new things. Our equipment has gotten an upgrade, our chocolate maker has continued his learning, our crew has become more skilled.
our magic ingredient
But you know what I think makes our chocolate so darn good? It’s the people who tend the land. It’s the constant laughter. It’s the duo who have whistling contests every time they’re sent out on a task together. It’s the worker who sings his heart out over the deafening hum of the mower. It’s the detail obsessed nursery manager who sees his plants as his art. It’s the chocolate maker who turns up the music to drown out all else when he needs to focus, and his assistants who will make you believe that maybe there is a little magic in this world.
we all need each other to lean on
We have been together for an alarming amount of life experiences. We have seen each other through lots of loss- of friends, family members. We have rode the wave that is a global pandemic. We have reinvented our mission to better support our community through these uncomfortable shifts. While we keep these plants alive and thriving, we are growing too. And our chocolate? It just keeps getting better. But don’t take my word for it- see for yourself!
