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Article

The Moku System: Managing Biocultural Resources for Abundance within Social-Ecological Regions in Hawaiʻi

by
Kawika B. Winter
1,2,3,*,
Kamanamaikalani Beamer
4,5,6,
Mehana Blaich Vaughan
3,4,6,7,
Alan M. Friedlander
8,9,
Mike H. Kido
10,
A. Nāmaka Whitehead
11,
Malia K.H. Akutagawa
5,6,
Natalie Kurashima
11,
Matthew Paul Lucas
12 and
Ben Nyberg
2
1
Hawaiʻi Institute of Marine Biology, University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, Kāneʻohe, HI 96744, USA
2
National Tropical Botanical Garden, Kalāheo, HI 96741, USA
3
Natural Resources and Environmental Management, University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, Honolulu, HI 96822, USA
4
Hawaiʻinuiākea School of Hawaiian Knowledge—Kamakakūokalani Center for Hawaiian Studies University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, Honolulu, HI 96822, USA
5
William S. Richardson School of Law—Ka Huli Ao Center for Excellence in Native Hawaiian Law, University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, HI 96822, USA
6
Hui ʻĀina Momona Program, University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, Honolulu, HI 96822, USA
7
University of Hawaiʻi Sea Grant College Program, University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, Honolulu, HI 96822, USA
8
Fisheries Ecology Research Lab, University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, Honolulu, HI 96822, USA
9
Pristine Seas, National Geographic Society, Washington, DC 20036, USA
10
Pacific Biosciences Research Center, University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, Honolulu, HI 96822, USA
11
Natural and Cultural Resources, Kamehameha Schools, Honolulu, HI 96813, USA
12
Department of Geography and Environment, University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, Honolulu, HI 96822, USA
 
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*
Author to whom correspondence should be addressed.
Sustainability 2018, 10(10), 3554; https://doi.org/10.3390/su10103554
Submission received: 31 July 2018 / Revised: 29 September 2018 / Accepted: 1 October 2018 / Published: 4 October 2018
(This article belongs to the Special Issue Biocultural Restoration in Hawaiʻi)
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Abstract

:
Through research, restoration of agro-ecological sites, and a renaissance of cultural awareness in Hawaiʻi, there has been a growing recognition of the ingenuity of the Hawaiian biocultural resource management system. The contemporary term for this system, “the ahupuaʻa system”, does not accurately convey the nuances of system function, and it inhibits an understanding about the complexity of the system’s management. We examined six aspects of the Hawaiian biocultural resource management system to understand its framework for systematic management. Based on a more holistic understanding of this system’s structure and function, we introduce the term, “the moku system”, to describe the Hawaiian biocultural resource management system, which divided large islands into social-ecological regions and further into interrelated social-ecological communities. This system had several social-ecological zones running horizontally across each region, which divided individual communities vertically while connecting them to adjacent communities horizontally; and, thus, created a mosaic that contained forested landscapes, cultural landscapes, and seascapes, which synergistically harnessed a diversity of ecosystem services to facilitate an abundance of biocultural resources. “The moku system”, is a term that is more conducive to large-scale biocultural restoration in the contemporary period, while being inclusive of the smaller-scale divisions that allowed for a highly functional system.

1. Introduction

The small size of many Pacific Islands, coupled with the frequency of catastrophic natural events (i.e., hurricanes, tsunami, drought, flooding, lava flows, etc.) resulted in the development of social-ecological systems around the anticipation of and rapid recovery from environmental change. For this reason, Pacific Islands have been a focus of research into social-ecological system resilience, especially in light of global climate change [1,2,3]. Understanding traditional approaches to resource management has been a key component of such research. It is apparent that some Pacific Island cultures exceeded resource limits and exhausted their island’s carrying capacity early on, while others adapted to resource limitations by adopting conservation measures and, therefore, persisted [4,5]. The Hawaiian archipelago in the era prior to European contact in 1778 (pre-contact era) is a prime example of the latter, making Hawaiian resource management in that era a particular topic of interest with global ramifications.
The “biocultural resource management” (BRM) approaches developed and employed by Hawaiians to manage an archipelago-scale social-ecological system—in the pre-contact era—sustained an abundance of resources for more than a millennium [6]. This state of biocultural resource abundance is known in the Hawaiian language as, “ʻāina momona”, and is a term that was particularly attributed to lands that employed aquaculture technologies to increase fish biomass [7]. The word, “ʻāina”, is a derivation from the word, “ʻai”,which means, “food, or to eat”, with the nominalizer “na” added to literally mean, “that which feeds” [8], but is generally used as a noun meaning, “Land, earth” [9]. The word, “momona”, is an adjective meaning, “Fat; fertile, rich, as soil; fruitful...”, [9]. Thus, the term ʻāina momona is commonly translated in the contemporary period as, “fat land”, or, “abundant land”, in the context of food production. ʻĀina momona was achieved and maintained through careful management on a landscape scale, which extended from the mountains to the sea [6,10].
Through research, restoration of agro-ecological systems, and a renaissance of cultural awareness in Hawaiʻi, there has been a growing recognition of the ingenuity of Hawaiian biocultural resource management systems. These systems effectively adapted to local conditions, while accumulating a body of knowledge in response to observed effects of management—both successes and failures—in order to sustain resource abundance over time. Researchers [11,12,13,14,15,16], policy makers, K-12 educators, and others, frequently refer to the Hawaiian system of biocultural resource management as, “the ahupuaʻa system.” In this vein, ahupuaʻa are frequently described as self-sustaining units, and put forth as models for sustainability in Hawaiʻi today [17,18]. Ahupuaʻa have been equated with watersheds, and described as being in alignment with Western scientific management approaches such as “ridge to reef”, and ecosystem-based management [19,20]. Our research indicates that while some of the notions aligning Western scientific approaches to resource management with Hawaiian approaches to biocultural resource management may be valid, attributing them to the ahupuaʻa scale does not stand up to scrutiny. For example, some key resources (e.g., adze for felling trees and carving canoes) did not naturally exist within each ahupuaʻa, and the population dynamics of key species managed for the survival of human populations were not confined to ahupuaʻa boundaries. In fact, there are many examples of biocultural resources that were often managed at the scale of larger land divisions. These nuances, discussed in more detail below, refute the notion that ahupuaʻa were self-sustaining. Furthermore, only 5% of ahupuaʻa have boundaries that actually corresponded with watershed boundaries [15], whereas other land-division scales more closely align with this concept (discussion below). There are also land-locked ahupuaʻa, which do not have boundaries that touch the ocean, and coastal ahupuaʻa, which do not have boundaries that extend to the mountains [15]. Therefore, the notion that ahupuaʻa were watershed-based, self-sustaining units is not supported. As such, limiting the contemporary application of Hawaiian biocultural resource management to the ahupuaʻa scale is not conducive to effective, large-scale restoration.
In recognition of knowledge gaps in the understanding of how Hawaiian biocultural resource management strategies functioned and adapted on a system level, this research aims to fill those gaps by synthesizing 21st century research on the topic and coupling that with contemporary understandings about population dynamics of key biocultural resource species. We aim to build a more nuanced understanding of the inner workings of the Hawaiian biocultural resource management system in the pre-contact era, and how it was able to foster long-term biocultural resource abundance. We do this through an examination of six aspects of biocultural resource management. We also aspire to use a more complete understanding to determine a more accurate term to describe this complex system as to be applicable in the contemporary period for large-scale (i.e., system level) biocultural restoration.

2. Methods

The authors of this paper operate in the realms of both biophysical and social science, and have a combined study of various aspects of the social-ecological system in Hawaiʻi that adds up to well over a century of work. The group includes multi-disciplinary ecologists, botanists, aquatic biologists, and geographers, along with scholars of Hawaiian resource management and governing policy. In this paper we draw upon our collective research that has employed various methods such as archival resource analysis (including maps, governing documents of the Hawaiian Kingdom, Hawaiian language newspapers, etc.), elder interviews, spatial modeling, remote sensing, and biological mapping/monitoring from the mountains to sea. Recent advances in our collective work include several inter-disciplinary projects in the biocultural realm, which have allowed us to synergistically engage with one another’s research in the pursuit of better understanding the depth and the breadth of the Hawaiian biocultural resource management system. These collaborations have been key to the development of this article.

3. Results

Our research yielded information that can be grouped into six aspects of biocultural resource management that are relevant to what Winter et al. [21] referred to as the “Hawaiian social-ecological system”.
Aspect 1:
Nested land divisions provided the framework for systematic management of biocultural resources.
The genesis of landscape-scale biocultural resource management, within the social-ecological system of the Hawaiian archipelago, was born out of necessity when human-population growth began to put a strain on natural resources. Hawaiian historians of the 19th century, such as Kamakau [7] and Malo [22], recounted that at the height of human population in the aliʻi era, the land was divided into various scales—such as moku, ʻokana, kalana, ahupuaʻa, ʻili, moʻo, pauku, and further into various types of agricultural plots (Table 1). Of these land divisions, the moku and the ahupuaʻa were key political boundaries in the pre-contact system of governance, managed by positions in the ruling class known as aliʻi ʻai moku and aliʻi ʻai ahupuaʻa respectively. Land divisions below the ahupuaʻa (social-ecological community) level were primarily derived through kinship and cared for by specific extended families [23]. While biocultural resources were managed within the context of those scaled boundaries, there is insufficient understanding of the interplay between the nested land divisions within the biocultural resource management system.
The first land division made to manage biocultural resources under the strain of a growing human population was that of moku (district or region), and continued population growth later necessitated the subdivision of moku into ahupuaʻa (a community-level division) for more localized resource management [6,7,24]. This approach to biocultural resource management was not standardized in a cookie cutter approach, but rather depended on biophysical aspects of the land- and sea-scape [16]. Historical maps and Hawaiian language records detail the proper names and boundaries of some units below the ahupuaʻa level, such as ʻili. While these place names have been mapped for some individual ahupuaʻa [14], comprehensive mapping of these land divisions for all the islands in the archipelago has yet to be completed.
Aside from the biophysical differences across islands, as well as the regions within them, land divisions varied over time, being shaped by the dynamic and varied needs of each island’s human population, as well as the political structure needed to govern people and manage biocultural resources. It is not clear how many times moku were re-subdivided into ahupuaʻa in order to manage the needs of a growing human population. The names of some ahupuaʻa seem to indicate that they were at one time larger ahupuaʻa that were later subdivided into two. This is evident by the occasional occurrence of adjacent ahupuaʻa having binomial names that are differentiated only by the epithet, being descriptors of opposing characteristics; whereas all other ahupuaʻa names are monomials. For example, on Kauaʻi, Kalihi-wai (Kalihi of fresh water) is adjacent to Kalihi-kai (Kalihi of salt water), and Nuʻalolo-kai (Nuʻalolo of the sea) is adjacent to Nuʻalolo-ʻāina (Nuʻalolo of the land) [16]; and on Hawaiʻi Island, Pakini-nui (Pakini major) is adjacent to Pakini-iki (Pakini minor) [15]. This may be evidence that ahupuaʻa were subdivided to adjust to the needs of the people. A similar trend is observed in adjacent moku of similar aspect—such as Kona ʻĀkau and Kona Hema on Hawaiʻi Island, and Koʻolau Loa and Koʻolau Poko on Oʻahu—although it is unknown whether or not these are the result of a historical subdivision process for which records have been lost to time.
All of the Hawaiian terms for land divisions (Table 1), with the exception of two—ʻokana and kalana—were primarily political boundaries associated with governance and systematic biocultural resource management as discussed above [7,22]. Both of these terms are somewhat cryptic, intermediate level social-ecological divisions. Each has a unique definition, but both seem to be applied to the same situation in different places in the archipelago; and, therefore, we suspect that these two terms are synonyms. Synonymy has been documented between the varying classification systems utilized in the pre-contact era [25], including for terms used to classify land designations within the Hawaiian biocultural resource management system [16]. Such synonymy can lead to confusion, which is particularly true for terms that have fallen out of common usage in the contemporary period, and especially for classifications that—by their cryptic nature—do not fit well into tables developed by scholars.
Both ʻokana and kalana were units smaller than a moku that could have either contained several small ahupuaʻa [9,26], or were distinct areas within large ahupuaʻa [27]. The intermediary nature of this land division has led to confusion about what this unit was, exactly, and how this concept fits into contemporary restoration efforts. It is seemingly more related to biophysical realities and regional identity of the community rather than governance and resource management. “ʻOkana”, is a contraction of, “ʻoki,” and “ʻana”, meaning, “cutting off”, [26] in reference to the partition of a larger land division into smaller units. While its synonym, “kalana”, can be broken down into, “kala”, and its nominalizing suffix, “na”, to literally mean, “that which loosens, frees, releases, removes, unburdens” (translation by authors), in reference, perhaps, to a watershed. These divisions were based upon the biophysical characteristics of the area, rather than the political needs for governance.
There are a few known examples that can inform our contemporary understanding of these terms. The term kalana has been applied to the Hanalei region of northern Kauaʻi, which includes the ahupuaʻa of Hanalei, Waioli, Waipā, and Waikoko [28]. This appears to reference lands that collectively release wai (fresh water) into Hanalei Bay. Other examples are observed on the dry leeward side Hawaiʻi Island, where the moku of Kona is divided into the kalana of Kekaha, Kona Kaiʻōpua, and Kapalilua [29]. The kalana of Kekaha (a contraction of the term, “ke-kahawai-ʻole”, meaning, “land without streams”) in the northern area of Kona is characterized by arid lands with neither streams nor abundant rainfall, but instead has subterranean freshwater flow. Kona Kaiʻōpua (Kona of the puffy clouds above the ocean), in the middle section of Kona, is where the ʻōpua (cumulus) clouds commonly rest in the field of vision in region just off shore. Kapalilua (the double cliff), in the southern region of Kona, is composed of several ahupuaʻa which encompass a region in Kona with a unique topography that is dominated by large sections of sea cliffs.
Uncertainties remain relating to the boundaries of various land divisions, as described above. This arises from several factors: (1) While Hawaiians quickly adopted paper-based mapping, after contact with Europeans, as a crucial means of documenting and asserting knowledge and rule over lands, they did not make such maps in the pre-contact era [30]; (2) several volcanic eruptions have modified or destroyed ahupuaʻa and/or moku boundaries; (3) boundaries were well established at the shoreline, but were more ambiguous offshore; (4) the conquest and unification of the islands destroyed sovereign boundaries established by prior dynasties; and (5) current boundaries set by various indigenous and historical authorities are sometimes in conflict [15]. More research into historic land divisions and how their boundaries shifted over time is needed.
Aspect 2:
Designation of social-ecological zones (wao/kai) allowed for the management of population dynamics for key resource species across social-ecological regions (moku).
Terrestrial social-ecological zones (wao) within a social-ecological region (moku) were designated by a two-word term beginning with “wao” and followed by an epithet that described their primary purpose and indicated appropriate activities within each zone [16] (Table 2, Figure 1 and Figure 2). Social-ecological zones in the marine environment (kai) have been historically documented within this system [7,29] (Table 3), but these have yet to be comprehensively examined or explored with spatial modeling. Both wao and kai spanned across the moku, which effectively divided each individual social-ecological community (ahupuaʻa) vertically, while connecting it horizontally to adjacent ahupuaʻa within a moku (Figure 1). The vertical divisions allowed for system-based management within each ahupuaʻa, while the horizontal connections between ahupuaʻa allowed for coordinated management of the population dynamics of key resource species between ahupuaʻa within each zone spanning a moku. This was achieved, in part, by a rotating system of harvest restrictions (described below), which ultimately facilitated management for maximum cumulative abundance and benefit of the entire system—a point that is elaborated below (Aspect 3).
Aspect 3:
Population management of key biocultural resources operated on an ecoregion scale.
Moku provide ideal units for examining management systems for key resources [31]. While they are often understood as political boundaries, their alignment facilitated decentralized resource management under aliʻi ʻai moku, the royal title for those who administered resources in a moku. Moku boundaries encompass land- and sea-scapes and are aligned with biophysical attributes of island ecosystems—such as landscape aspect, topography, climate regime, wave exposure, watershed classification, forest distribution, substrate type, and aquifer boundaries (Figure 3 and Figure 4). In this regard, moku boundaries are more closely aligned with the scientific understanding of an archipelago-scale ecoregion than any other unit of land division recognized in pre-contact Hawaiʻi. Ecoregions are relatively large units of land containing a distinct assemblage of natural communities and species, with boundaries that approximate the original extent of natural communities prior to major land-use change [32]. While usually referred to on a global scale, we use this term on an archipelago scale. This concept is explored in more detail below.
Owing to Hawaiʻi’s orthographically driven climate patterns across the landscape and shoreline, bio-physical resources—such as sunlight, rainfall, temperature and wave energy [33,34]—ultimately drive natural resource abundance and the potential for cultivating biocultural resources via agro-ecological and aquaculture systems. While there are climatic similarities across moku, there are also key differences between moku. These differences can be seen with an RGB visualization of equalized temperature (°C), solar radiation (W/m2), and rainfall (mm) [35,36] respectively (Figure 3). This can also be visualized in data distributions in histograms of climatic and landscape variables island wide, across moku, and within social-ecological zones (Figure 4). The overlay of moku boundaries in Figure 3 and Figure 4 reveal clear patterns of climatic similarity within each moku. This suggests these divisions optimized land uses and had the potential to contain specialized biocultural resources. In particular, wao kanaka zones (including coastal areas) are primarily differentiated between moku by solar radiation, rainfall, temperature, and wave energy. This suggests that human interaction with the environment in these areas helped to further distinguish the moku from one another and inform appropriate uses. This is evident in the varying forms and intensification of agriculture associated with each moku [8], as well as coastal resource development or extraction [29]. This research does not assume that only these physical variables strictly dictated moku or wao boundaries while disregarding social and cultural drivers; however, an examination of the patterns of both similarities and differences across these spaces does suggest a logical grouping of resource uses as dictated or limited by some bio-physical constraints. Moku boundaries also correspond well with the population dynamics of key biocultural resources—such as fish, birds, invertebrates, and plants—that could be more effectively managed in the context of their natural ranges, and in their respective gene pools within ecoregions. Specific examples of key species in these life-form categories are given below.
Fresh-, brackish-, and salt-water vertebrate and invertebrate species were important components of traditional food systems in pre-contact Hawaiʻi [29]. At the local (ahupuaʻa) and district (moku) levels, fishing activities and catch distribution were strictly disciplined by a system of rules and regulations—born out of an understanding about the life cycles of various aquatic species—that were embedded in socio-political structures and religious systems (discussed below). Harvest management was not based on a specific amount of fish, but on identifying the specific times and places that fishing could occur so as not to disrupt basic life-cycle processes and habitats of important food resources [37]. Many of these laws provided protection for important species and allowed Hawaiians to derive sustenance from the ocean for centuries [38]. Knowledge about fish habitat needs, behaviors, and life cycles paved the way for the development of various aquaculture technologies that both increased and stabilized the production of fish biomass [29,39] in the social-ecological system.
Watersheds that contained perennial streams flowing from the mountains to the sea were provided with important vertical dimensions of instream food resources in the form of various species of native fish (ʻOʻopu) and macroinvertebrates (ʻŌpae and Hīhīwai) (Table 4). ʻOʻopu were the most commonly-referenced fish listed as a traditional food source by native Hawaiians on islands with perennial streams in the middle of the 19th century, which alludes to the importance of these freshwater protein sources in that era [29]. This was particularly true for families living inland from the coast. Hawaiʻi’s native stream species are all amphidromous [40] in that they move out to sea as larvae and return to freshwater as sub-adults to complete their juvenile and adult phases [41,42]. For ʻOʻopu, eggs are laid and fertilized in nests, often close to stream mouths. Newly hatched larvae passively drift with stream currents into nearshore areas as marine plankton [43], then metamorphose and recruit into streams as juveniles [44]. The recruiting ʻOʻopu are known in Hawaiian as hinana, which is the first size class recognized as edible [39]. Adults of each species predictably distribute themselves into high densities along elevational zones in the stream continuum [45], where they may be reliably collected seasonally. Given their amphidromous life histories, sustaining native ʻOʻopu, ʻOpae (an ethnogenus comprising Atyoida and Macrobrachium), and Hīhīwai (Neritina granosa) larval production from streams within and among watersheds is important to replenish oceanic planktonic populations as cohorts mature to enter streams as juveniles. An ecoregional-scale of resource management, consisting of multiple adjacent streams combined into an ecoregion management unit (moku) would, therefore, serve to optimize larval production regionally and be beneficial in sustaining native food resources in streams on all islands.
Nearshore fish species were also important as a protein source, particularly for people living along the coast, and were managed on an archipelago-based ecoregion scale for abundance [29]. Management tools included the use of temporal and seasonal closures, a practice widely used in traditional Pacific marine tenure systems. Such closures most often applied to reduce intensive harvest of spawning fish or aggregations that occurred during lunar, seasonal, or annual cycles [4,46]. A number of pelagic and migratory species were heavily relied on as food sources, and effective management of their populations was more appropriately addressed at the moku level. An example of such management is evident in the ancient fishing regulation of ʻŌpelu (mackerel scad, Decapterus spp.)—in the moku of Kona Hema, Hawaiʻi Island, which happened beyond the seaward boundary of the ahupuaʻa in that ecoregion. This regulation mandated that ʻŌpelu be actively fed (hānai ʻia) in their natural aggregation areas (koʻa) during the restricted (kapu) season, which was associated with their spawning period. Each fishing family had a designated koʻa to hānai during the kapu season. If they fulfilled that responsibility they were allowed to fish within any of the koʻa during the unrestricted (noa) season, after first harvesting from the one they tended. If, however, a family did not fulfill their responsibility to hānai their designated koʻa in the kapu season, they then lost their privilege of fishing for ʻŌpelu in the following noa season. This is recalled in the proverb, “Hānai a ʻai”, [29] that roughly translates to, “Feed [the fish], and [you may] eat”, (translation by authors). Regulations that restricted the fishing of key species during their spawning season and calling for the active feeding of them during this period likely increased the fecundity of key resource fish species for the entire moku. The six-month kapu season for ʻŌpelu was the noa season for Aku (skipjack tuna, Katsuwonus pelamis), a predator of juvenile ʻŌpelu [29], therefore this restriction/feeding season for ʻŌpelu corresponded with a shifted dietary reliance of Hawaiians to top-predator species as a protein source. As such, in addition to limiting pressure on key lower trophic level fish species, harvesting their predators reduced their natural mortality. When the kapu was lifted for ʻŌpelu fishing, the six-month kapu for Aku fishing commenced [7,29,39], thus allowing for population recovery of that species. The rotating kapu/noa, noa/kapu seasons alternated between these two species on an annual basis. Another important nearshore fish, ʻAnae holo (striped mullet, Mugil cephalus), was a prized species that migrates along coastal areas and into estuaries within an archipelago-scale ecoregion, and was a focal species in aquaculture systems. Not only were ʻAnae holo fished for as they passed through the coastline of an ahupuaʻa, they were also attracted into aquaculture systems, which were designed to create or enhance habitat for key resource species in a contained area. This included six classes of fishponds [29,39]. The replenishment of fishponds was dependent on the spawning success of this and other species, which happens on a scale that is more closely aligned with moku boundaries than any other scale of land division in ancient Hawaiʻi.
Birds—including forest birds, waterfowl, seabirds, and other migratory species—were another key biocultural resource group as a source of both food for sustenance, and feathers for adornment. As with pelagic and migratory fish, the population dynamics of native birds extended beyond ahupuaʻa boundaries. Hawaiian honeycreepers (Fringillidae: Drepanidinae), a highly diverse passerine group relied upon for their feathers, can have home ranges of up to 12 ha [47]. In the context of inland forest at or near the apex of ahupuaʻa home ranges of native honeycreepers could most certainly go beyond ahupuaʻa boundaries, while staying well within the social-ecological zones (Figure 2) that spanned multiple ahupuaʻa—such as the wao akua and the wao nāhele in the case of forest birds. The Koloa (Hawaiian duck, Anas wyvilliana), once an important source of food associated with the wao kānaka zone [8], has been documented to fly between wetland systems in the same moku [48]. Ground-nesting seabird colonies—such as those of the ‘Ua’u (Hawaiian petrel, Pterodroma sandwichensis), which was another food source when abundant—encompass the upland forest of entire moku. An example of this is the colony at Honoonāpali [49]—the region of montane cloud forest encompassing the entire wao akua zone in the moku of Nāpali on the island of Kauaʻi. Therefore, given that key resource birds have home ranges and population dynamics, which existed in social-ecological zones that spanned across many ahupuaʻa yet remained within moku boundaries, managing their populations for abundance would have been more effective if done at the moku scale.
Species ranges and population dynamics of native plants—as opposed to cultivated crops—were also not limited to ahupuaʻa boundaries. Native plants co-evolved with three natural vectors of dispersal—wind, birds (either internally or externally), and ocean currents. Coastal plants tend to be distributed by ocean currents, whereas inland species tend to be distributed by wind or wing [50]. ʻŌhiʻa lehua (Metrosideros polymorpha), the native tree with the highest biocultural value [51], has wind-born seeds that can be dispersed great distances. As for culturally-important trees with fleshy fruits—such as Māmaki (Pipturus spp.), ʻAlaheʻe (Psydrax odorata), and many others—avian dispersers are critically important, and such birds are responsible for the structure and diversity of forests in Hawaiʻi [52]. Therefore, diversity of culturally-important native plants, as well as the structure of forests depended on physical and ecological factors that existed on a scale more closely aligned with those of the moku than any other scale of land division in ancient Hawaiʻi.
The abundance of biocultural resources, needed by stewards of the ahupuaʻa for their sustenance and well-being, depended on ecological factors, including life cycles of key resource species, that operated on scales larger than that associated with ahupuaʻa boundaries. This makes the larger moku a more practical unit for management.
Aspect 4:
Ensuring high levels of biodiversity resulted in resilient food systems.
Hawaiians in the pre-contact era used taxonomy to attribute names to specific units of biodiversity in their social-ecological system [25], which provided a means to manage the components at the foundation of a diverse range of sociocultural traditions. The management of biocultural diversity has been identified as an important aspect of maintaining—and potentially restoring—the structure, function, and resilience of social-ecological systems [21]. The same concept can be applied to food systems. There is a word in the Hawaiian language for famine—wī [9]—which indicates that food was not perpetually abundant in all areas. Periods of famine are noted to have followed natural disasters, such as hurricanes, or climatic shifts which resulted in extended periods of drought [53]. This evidence suggests occasional short-term declines in food abundance, yet points to the importance of biodiversity for resilience of the food system. Some species of plants are referred to as “famine foods” [8,54], and the same is true for some species of marine life [39]. Resource managers had to maintain high levels of biodiversity (Table 4) throughout the social-ecological system as a means to facilitate resilience in the food system. Resource managers had tools to maintain abundance and biodiversity in the food system. These tools included various types of kapu, or harvest/access restrictions, to allow for the recovery of populations of key species [29]. When certain species had kapu placed upon them, many others in the system could be relied upon as substitutes—as indicated in the alternating kapu between ʻŌpelu and Aku (discussed above). The high levels of redundancy in wild food sources is indicative of a resilient food system, one that identified food sources that were relied on primarily in periods of scarcity.
Aspect 5:
Rotations of harvest restrictions were tools to manage for abundance of biocultural resources.
Maly and Maly [29] comprehensively documented Hawaiian fishing traditions from the pre-contact era, through the Kingdom period, and into the territorial period—based on a compilation of historical records and oral histories. They documented rotating harvest restrictions (kapu) that were placed and lifted (making an area noa or free from restriction) on either a regular or intermittent basis. The Hawaiian biocultural resource management system employed various kinds of harvest and access restrictions (kapu). The punishment for breaking a kapu was swift and severe [7,22]. A summary of the types of kapu employed in Hawaiian biocultural resource management strategies is described below (Table 5). These various kinds of kapu were employed in concert with each other—on both a temporal and spatial scale—to manage for the long-term abundance of key biocultural resources, while at the same time ensuring that local communities could access resources for their daily survival and well-being. The process for deciding which kind of kapu to employ and when, with the goal of managing population dynamics within a moku, was done by implementing a multi-criteria decision-making process—such as that which is described below (Aspect 6).
Aspect 6:
Systematic approaches towards holistic evaluation of solutions to biocultural resource problems.
In resource management, solutions born out of a narrow view of a problem have the potential to unintentionally create new problems in other areas of a system. Multi-criteria decision-making processes can be used as a tool to determine the best possible solution to a complex problem [57]. Hawaiians employed such tools in the approach of managing biocultural resources to attain abundance (ʻāina momona) in their social-ecological system.
Knowledge of an evaluation process relating to the system-level management of biocultural resources has been documented from the island of Molokaʻi—as developed in the pre-aliʻi era prior to the voyage of Pāʻao to Hawaiʻi (approximately 800 years BCE). This evaluation process operated on both the temporal and spatial planes, and in the spiritual realm. It was utilized as a tool by decision-making councils that were composed of recognized experts who were valued for their unique skills and experience—whether that be in agro-ecology, aquaculture, hydrology, meteorology, phenology, etc. The councils operated along certain guiding principles, and themselves guided resource management to ensure the health and integrity of eight resource realms [6,58]. The council’s decision-making process entailed consideration of the impact of a proposed solution on each of the eight realms (i.e., the spatial scale, Table 6) as to arrive at solutions that addressed the problems of a specific realm without causing harm to any of the other realms. Once a decision was arrived at, it was implemented by the people in a manner that honored the ancestral past while addressing present needs, and establishing more abundance for future generations (i.e., the temporal scale) [6,58].
The implementation of biocultural resource management tools, such as the coordination of various types of kapu (harvest restrictions) across the moku (as discussed above), were the kind of issues decided upon by systematic evaluations of both problems and potential solutions. The unilateral placement of kapu on the scale of a single ahupuaʻa would not be as effective as collaborative and coordinated efforts between multiple adjacent ahupuaʻa. Various types of rotating kapu were employed in concert—between ahupuaʻa within the context of the moku—to synergistically yield long-term abundance of key biocultural resources. For example, when a key species was closed in one ahupuaʻa, it might be open in the adjacent ahupuaʻa, with shared harvest rights across both, so that residents could continue to access that resource even while it was rested and rejuvenating in their own home area. The designation of social-ecological zones, which maintained horizontal connections between ahupuaʻa facilitated this management approach, and allowed for the continual replenishment of key species in the archipelago-scale ecoregion without compromising the ability of ahupuaʻa tenants to feed themselves. This was true for key biocultural resources in oceans, estuaries, streams, wetlands, and forested areas. Similar evaluation processes were likely employed in the aliʻi era—between the arrival of Pāʻao from Tahiti and the arrival of Europeans in 1778—although records of this are not known to exist.

4. Discussion

An analysis of various aspects of managing biocultural resources on a system level has provided some insight into the pathways that pre-contact Hawaiians followed to attain the state of abundance known in the Hawaiian language as ʻāina momona. However, an abandonment of traditional resource management practices in the post-contact era led to a decline in biocultural resources. A good example of this can be seen by the loss of kapu (restrictions) as resource management tools.
Kapu were born out of and engrained in the ancient Hawaiian religion in the pre-contact era. These restrictions regulated many aspects of society and human behavior, not just use and management of biocultural resources [7,22,59]. When the ancient Hawaiian religion was abolished in 1819—forty years after Western contact—the kapu system was dissolved. With it went a system of regulations for resource extraction, and the authority to enforce violations [29]. Regulations and enforcement were key tools used to manage for long-term abundance of biocultural resources. Loss of the kapu system left valuable species unprotected as Hawaiʻi, an important stop on shipping routes across the Pacific, entered the global trade economy of the 19th century. The massive over-harvesting of ʻIliahi (Sandalwood, Santalum spp.) for export to China contributed to the near extinction of these trees [60]. The example of ʻIliahi shows how not only key species, but entire ecosystems, were vulnerable to the pressures of capitalism without the kapu system in place to protect biocultural resources. After the word “kapu” took on a negative connotation in the Christian era—due to its association with the ancient religion—some forms of resource extraction regulations continued under a different term, “hoʻomalu”, which means, “to rest;” and were codified into law during the Kingdom Era. This was applied locally within ahupuaʻa to particular species or areas, as needed and identified by the designated konohiki [29].
The abolishment of the kapu system was just one of many changes that undermined the Hawaiian system of biocultural resource management during the 19th century. Depopulation from introduced diseases in the century following European contact was a major contributing factor to the abandonment of agro-ecological systems [61]. Changes in land tenure from the 1840s through the overthrow of the monarchy in 1893 created private ownership in place of communal land holdings [14,30,62,63]. Nearshore fisheries, and local rights to harvest and manage them, were gradually condemned, starting with the Act that annexed Hawaiʻi as a territory in 1900. This opened fisheries to public access and shifted resource management authority from the ahupuaʻa level to centralized bureaucracies under the territorial and then state governments, and decoupled nearshore resource management from land-based resource management [64,65]. However, in spite of all the change, some ahupuaʻa tenants continued modified forms of biocultural resource management tools into the 20th century, such as the continued practice of designating species and areas for protection (hoʻomalu). These informal “rests” were designated by respected elders, but were not codified or enforceable except by social pressures [37]. Andrade [14] documents some specific examples of informal community agreements to rest certain areas, or to rotate harvest in the ahupuaʻa of Hāʻena (Haleleʻa, Kauaʻi). Hāʻena is just one of many Hawaiian communities that found novel ways of adapting to continue traditional resource management practices well into the 20th century.

5. Conclusions

Of all the scales of land division in ancient Hawaiʻi, the moku unit is the scale most closely aligned with archipelago-scale ecoregions that encompass population dynamics of key biocultural resources—such as fish, birds, and plants. Biocultural resource management on this scale involved spatial management in both the horizontal and the vertical planes via the designation of social-ecological zones, as well as the concentric scaling of nested land divisions. All of this was done in concert with knowledge about temporal patterns associated with the cycles of lunar months and solar years, which were correlated with life cycles and population dynamics of key resource species. Given the success of this traditional resource management system in ancient Hawaiʻi, a return to this approach would be an essential component of large-scale biocultural restoration in the 21st century.
We introduce the term “the moku system” to describe the Hawaiian biocultural resource management system, practiced in the pre-contact era, which divided large islands into social-ecological regions (moku) and further into interrelated social-ecological communities (ahupuaʻa)—each of which contained a network of scaled kinship-derived sections (ʻili, moʻo, etc.) nested within them. Each moku had several social-ecological zones (e.g., wao and kai) running horizontally as belts across the region. These wao divided individual ahupuaʻa vertically while connecting them to adjacent ahupuaʻa horizontally, allowing for holistic management of biocultural resources across human communities. These delineated social-ecological zones created a mosaic that contained forested landscapes, cultural landscapes [66], and seascapes which synergistically harnessed a diversity of ecosystem services to facilitate an abundance of biocultural resources. The richest (waiwai) ahupuaʻa cycled enough fresh water (wai) through them to allow for aquaculture via various classes of fresh- and/or brackish-water fishponds. Such ahupuaʻa were labeled with the term ‘ʻāina momona’ (abundant lands) due to the amount of food and other biocultural resources they were able to sustainably produce over successive generations.
The contemporary trend of framing biocultural conservation efforts around the scale of ahupuaʻa can be effective in some localized instances, such as the creation of Indigenous and Community Conserved Areas (ICCAs). Successful examples of these in the contemporary period include the Hāʻena Community-based Subsistence Fishing Area (CBSFA) on the island of Kauaʻi, and the Kaʻūpūlehu Fish Replenishment Area on Hawaiʻi Island, which employs marine management rules and regulations (e.g., closed areas, closed seasons, size restrictions, restricted entry), within single ahupuaʻa, that have been used for thousands of years by Pacific Islanders [67]. However, limiting discussions of biocultural resource management to the ahupuaʻa scale may not be conducive for the success of large-scale efforts to restore and maintain biocultural resource abundance. While the scale of ahupuaʻa is key, there are multiple additional scales of divisions within moku boundaries (ʻokana/kalana, ahupuaʻa, ʻili, moʻo, pauku) that need to be considered. More research is needed to understand the interplay between these divisions, the organization of human communities in ancient Hawaiʻi, and to allow for further insight into the historic management of biocultural resources as a means to inform contemporary restoration efforts.

Author Contributions

Conceptualization, K.B.W. and K.B.; Methodology, K.B.W., K.B., M.B.V., and M.P.L.; Validation, A.M.F., M.H.K., A.N.W., N.K. and M.K.H.A.; Formal Analysis, K.B.W and M.P.L.; Investigation, K.B.W., and K.B.; Data Curation, B.N., and M.P.L.; Writing—Original Draft Preparation, K.B.W.; Writing—Review & Editing, K.B.W., K.B., M.B.V., M.H.K., A.M.F., N.K., A.N.W, and M.P.L.; Visualization, M.P.L, and B.N.; Funding Acquisition, K.B.W.

Funding

The APC was funded through the generous support of Hawaiʻi Community Foundation.

Acknowledgments

We would like to acknowledge those whose teachings and endeavors have laid the foundation for this research. In particular we express our gratitude to Edward Kaanaana and John Kaʻimikaua (both now passed), who were lineal keepers of knowledge, wisdom, and practice that descended from ancient times. We also have deep appreciation for Carlos Andrade, a native Hawaiian practitioner, scholar, and philosopher who has provoked our thoughts and challenged our thinking for decades. A special thanks go out to S. Kekuewa Kikiloi, Kāʻeo Duarte, Kānekoa Kūkea-Schultz, and others who have shaped our thoughts on the inner workings and management of the Hawaiian social-ecological system. HawaiʻiFinally, we thank the communities of the E Alu Pū Network whose continued work in the traditional and customary practice of mālama ʻāina inspires us all and gives us hope for the future. Mahalo.

Conflicts of Interest

The authors declare no conflicts of interest.

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Figure 1. A schematic model depicting the layout of a single social-ecological region (moku) including the structure of both social-ecological zones (wao and kai, designated horizontally) and of social-ecological community boundaries (ahupuaʻa, designated vertically) to convey the framework for the biocultural resource management of the moku system in the Hawaiian archipelago in the pre-contact period. This framework provided for management in both the horizontal and vertical dimensions. Social-ecological zones are based on those identified from the island of Kauaʻi [16].
Figure 1. A schematic model depicting the layout of a single social-ecological region (moku) including the structure of both social-ecological zones (wao and kai, designated horizontally) and of social-ecological community boundaries (ahupuaʻa, designated vertically) to convey the framework for the biocultural resource management of the moku system in the Hawaiian archipelago in the pre-contact period. This framework provided for management in both the horizontal and vertical dimensions. Social-ecological zones are based on those identified from the island of Kauaʻi [16].
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Figure 2. A spatial model depicting the layout for the social-ecological region (moku) of Haleleʻa on the island of Kauaʻi, including the social-ecological zones (wao ) that dictated resource management in each social-ecological community (ahupuaʻa), as determined by Winter and Lucas [16]. Each wao is represented by a different color as indicated in the key. This moku contains nine ahupuaʻa, each of which are labeled here by name. Not all ahupuaʻa modeled here have all five wao documented from the island of Kauaʻi, which indicates that each ahuapua’a had varying levels of access to and amounts of biocultural resources.
Figure 2. A spatial model depicting the layout for the social-ecological region (moku) of Haleleʻa on the island of Kauaʻi, including the social-ecological zones (wao ) that dictated resource management in each social-ecological community (ahupuaʻa), as determined by Winter and Lucas [16]. Each wao is represented by a different color as indicated in the key. This moku contains nine ahupuaʻa, each of which are labeled here by name. Not all ahupuaʻa modeled here have all five wao documented from the island of Kauaʻi, which indicates that each ahuapua’a had varying levels of access to and amounts of biocultural resources.
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Figure 3. A visual interpretation of climate as delineated by histogram-normalized color combinations of red, green, and blue to simultaneously visualize gradients and combinations of temperature, solar radiation, and rainfall (red: mean annual temperature (°C); green: mean annual solar radiation (W/m2); blue: mean annual rainfall (mm)). Social-ecological region (moku) boundaries (thick black lines), and social-ecological zone (wao) boundaries (thin dashed lines) representing the data produced by Winter and Lucas [16] are overlaid atop the island of Kauaʻi. All climate data are from Giambelluca [35,36]. Areas with blue dominance represent relative rainfall abundance, areas of green dominance represent relative solar radiation abundance, and areas of red dominance represent relative warmer temperatures. This results in color mixes that demonstrate these climatic variables, with the Venn diagram providing a color key for visual interpretation of the mean annual climatic variability.
Figure 3. A visual interpretation of climate as delineated by histogram-normalized color combinations of red, green, and blue to simultaneously visualize gradients and combinations of temperature, solar radiation, and rainfall (red: mean annual temperature (°C); green: mean annual solar radiation (W/m2); blue: mean annual rainfall (mm)). Social-ecological region (moku) boundaries (thick black lines), and social-ecological zone (wao) boundaries (thin dashed lines) representing the data produced by Winter and Lucas [16] are overlaid atop the island of Kauaʻi. All climate data are from Giambelluca [35,36]. Areas with blue dominance represent relative rainfall abundance, areas of green dominance represent relative solar radiation abundance, and areas of red dominance represent relative warmer temperatures. This results in color mixes that demonstrate these climatic variables, with the Venn diagram providing a color key for visual interpretation of the mean annual climatic variability.
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Figure 4. Histograms of climate and landscape variables (columns) for the example island of Kauaʻi. From left to right: mean annual rainfall (mm), mean annual temperature (°C), mean annual solar radiation (W/m2), long-term wave power (Kw/m), and landscape aspect. Rows display island-wide data distribution (bottom) and subsets of socio-ecological zones. Grey histograms represent all data in the zone or island with color coordinated distribution lines display distribution of each according to moku. Base-layer image of Kauaʻi indicating social-ecological zones is from Winter and Lucas [16]. The boundaries of each of the five moku (Haleleʻa, Koʻolau, Nāpali, Kona, and Puna) for Kauaʻi are indicated in separate colors.
Figure 4. Histograms of climate and landscape variables (columns) for the example island of Kauaʻi. From left to right: mean annual rainfall (mm), mean annual temperature (°C), mean annual solar radiation (W/m2), long-term wave power (Kw/m), and landscape aspect. Rows display island-wide data distribution (bottom) and subsets of socio-ecological zones. Grey histograms represent all data in the zone or island with color coordinated distribution lines display distribution of each according to moku. Base-layer image of Kauaʻi indicating social-ecological zones is from Winter and Lucas [16]. The boundaries of each of the five moku (Haleleʻa, Koʻolau, Nāpali, Kona, and Puna) for Kauaʻi are indicated in separate colors.
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Table
Table 1. Categories of land divisions within an island documented in the 19th century by Kamakau [7] and Malo [22], with contemporary descriptions of the units they represented as interpreted by the authors.
Table 1. Categories of land divisions within an island documented in the 19th century by Kamakau [7] and Malo [22], with contemporary descriptions of the units they represented as interpreted by the authors.
Land Division TermUnit within the System
mokuA social-ecological region
ʻokana/kalanaIntermediate category being either a group of ahupuaʻa within a moku that collectively compose a larger watershed; or a smaller watershed within a single, large ahupuaʻa
ahupuaʻaA social-ecological community
ʻiliA division within an ahupuaʻa, often associated with an extended family
moʻoA section of land within an ʻili
paukuA strip of land within an moʻo
kīhāpai and othersVarious types of cultivated plots
Table
Table 2. The five terrestrial social-ecological zones (wao) that appear to have been recognized on the island of Kaua`i. Management implications for each zone are provided (based on Table 3 in Winter and Lucas [16]).
Table 2. The five terrestrial social-ecological zones (wao) that appear to have been recognized on the island of Kaua`i. Management implications for each zone are provided (based on Table 3 in Winter and Lucas [16]).
Social-Ecological ZoneTranslationManagement Implications
wao akuaSacred forestPrimary function: Perpetual source population for endemic biodiversity.
Designated as “sacred forest”, making it a restricted forest zone for a native-only plant community, accessed only under strict protocols.
Associated with montane cloud forest, elfin forest.
wao keleWet forestPrimary function: Maximize aquifer recharge.
An untended forest zone associated with core watershed areas (remote upland, wet forest below the clouds) which was left as a native-dominant plant community.
Impractical for access except for transit-through via trails.
wao nāheleRemote ForestPrimary function: Maximize habitat for native birds.
A forest zone that was minimally-tended (generally remote upland, mesic forest) and left as a native-dominant plant community.
Impractical for access except by bird catchers and feather gatherers.
wao lāʻauAgro-forestPrimary function: Maximize the availability of timber and non-timber forest products.
A zone allowing for the management of a highly-tended forest via an integrated agroforestry (native and introduced plants) regime:
  • Native and introduced hardwood timber
  • Introduced food trees
  • Native and introduced biofuel sources
  • Maximization of native biodiversity for non-timber forest products
  • Cordage and weaving material
  • Medicine and dyes
  • Ceremonial and adornment plants
wao kānakaHabitation zonePrimary function: landscape-scale augmentation to maximize the availability of food, medicine, and housing.
A zone allowing for (but not mandating) the conversion of forest to field agriculture, aquaculture, habitation, recreation, and/or temple worship.
Native and introduced trees tended, individually or in groves, for regular and specific cultural services.
Table
Table 3. An abridged list of select social-ecological zones (kai) within the marine environment as documented by Maly and Maly [29]. Translations of the meaning of these zones are provided by the authors.
Table 3. An abridged list of select social-ecological zones (kai) within the marine environment as documented by Maly and Maly [29]. Translations of the meaning of these zones are provided by the authors.
Marine Social-Ecological ZoneTranslation by Authors
ka poʻina naluFringing reef with breaking waves
(representing the seaward boundary of ahupuaʻa)
kai lūheʻeSea for fishing with octopus lures
(outer reefs)
kai koholāSea frequented by humpback whales (Megaptera novaeangliae)
(submerged volcanic shelves)
kai ʻeleBlack sea
(deep-sea area, possibly between volcanic shelves)
kai uliDark sea
(deep-sea area, possibly beyond the islands’ volcanic foundations)
kai pualenaSea along the horizon that gets the first touch of the sun’s light
(deep-sea area)
kai pōpolohua-a-Kāne-i-kahikiDistant, dark sea associated with the travels of Kāne
(deep-sea area beyond sight of land)
Table
Table 4. The amount of native biodiversity functionally relied upon as food sources in the pre-contact era Hawaiʻi.
Table 4. The amount of native biodiversity functionally relied upon as food sources in the pre-contact era Hawaiʻi.
Life FormEdible SpeciesSource
Freshwater vertebrates5Maly and Maly 2003 [27]
Freshwater invertebrates4Maly and Maly 2003 [27]
Ocean vertebrates231Maly and Maly 2003 [27]
Ocean invertebrates57Maly and Maly 2003 [27]
Macro-algae29Abbott 1996 [55]
Birds38Keauokalani 1859–1860 [56]
Table
Table 5. A list of various types of kapu (restriction) along with associated descriptions compiled from Maly and Maly [29] and examples for each.
Table 5. A list of various types of kapu (restriction) along with associated descriptions compiled from Maly and Maly [29] and examples for each.
Kapu TypeDescription of kapuExamples
Seasonal harvest restriction associated with spawning periodsPlaced an annual ban on the harvest of key fish species during their spawning season, which helped to ensure healthy populations for future fishing seasons. Annual six-month kapu on ʻŌpelu
(Decapterus spp.)
Monthly harvest restriction associated with particular moon phasesRegulated either specific harvest practices or harvest of particular species on named moon phases, which effectively staggered harvesting pressure throughout the month and protected spawning events occurring on certain moons. No fishing allowed on the 27th phase of the moon (Kāne).
Occasional access restriction, associated with particular areasIntermittently imposed to restrict human access into areas that needed immediate recovery, or in areas being saved for a planned large harvest in the foreseeable future.Lāwaʻi (an ahupuaʻa in Kona, Kauaʻi) is a place-name commemorating the lifting of a kapu over the entire bay fronting that ahupuaʻa.
Occasional harvest restriction, associated with a particular taxaIntermittently imposed to temporarily rest harvest of specific taxa observed to be in decline as a means to facilitate population recovery.Kapu placed on ʻUla (lobster, Panulirus marginatus) when population observed to be in decline.
Occasional harvest restriction, associated with a particular life-stage of a specific taxaPrevented harvest of particular species at key stages in their life cycles, as a means to manage population demographics of that species and enhance reproduction. These restrictions only protected certain life stages while other life stages of that same species could be harvested.Kapu placed on Moi liʻi (juvenile threadfin, Polydactylus sexfilis) only, while allowing for the harvest of other life stages of the same species.
Table
Table 6. The eight main components of the systematic evaluation process that was developed on the island of Molokaʻi to ensure abundance in all resource realms of the social-ecological system [6,58], with descriptions and contextual interpretations provided by the authors.
Table 6. The eight main components of the systematic evaluation process that was developed on the island of Molokaʻi to ensure abundance in all resource realms of the social-ecological system [6,58], with descriptions and contextual interpretations provided by the authors.
Component of Decision MatrixComponent Description and Contextual Interpretation
moana-nui-ākeaThe sea from the shoreline to the horizon, as seen from the highest vantage point in the area; and all associated biota.
kahakaipepeiaoThe area extending from the place where the ocean meets the land to the place where soil exists. This includes the splash zone where algae, crabs, and other shellfish may be located; sands where turtles nest; dunes where seabirds nest and coastal strand vegetation exists; sea cliffs; and all associated biota.
maukaThe area from where soil begins, extending all the way to the mountaintops; and all associated biota.
nāmuliwaiAll the sources of fresh water—artesian springs, streams (including coastal springs that create brackish-water and contribute to healthy and productive estuarine environments); and all associated biota.
kalewalaniThe realm inclusive of everything above the land—the air, winds, sky, clouds, rain, rainbows, birds, atmosphere, sun, moon, planets, and stars. This encompasses all the elements and celestial bodies that influence the tides and ocean currents, which directed traditional navigation and guided fishing and planting seasons.
kānakahōnuaThe needs of the people. This included the kānāwai (laws) that governed behaviors and ensured a functioning society which contributed to the people’s health and well-being.
papahelōlonaThe intellect and cumulative knowledge built up over generations. This is the knowledge of kahuna (keepers of priestly knowledge), knowledge about the connections across the social-ecological system and the correlations between the cycles of nature, and knowledge of expert practitioners in astronomy, healing, and other schools of knowledge.
keʻihiʻihiThe spiritual realm and the ceremonies needed to maintain pono (balance) in the ʻāina. These included elements of nature, ancestral deities, and religious protocols needed to maintain sanctity in the landscape.

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Winter, K.B.; Beamer, K.; Vaughan, M.B.; Friedlander, A.M.; Kido, M.H.; Whitehead, A.N.; Akutagawa, M.K.H.; Kurashima, N.; Lucas, M.P.; Nyberg, B. The Moku System: Managing Biocultural Resources for Abundance within Social-Ecological Regions in Hawaiʻi. Sustainability 2018, 10, 3554. https://doi.org/10.3390/su10103554

AMA Style

Winter KB, Beamer K, Vaughan MB, Friedlander AM, Kido MH, Whitehead AN, Akutagawa MKH, Kurashima N, Lucas MP, Nyberg B. The Moku System: Managing Biocultural Resources for Abundance within Social-Ecological Regions in Hawaiʻi. Sustainability. 2018; 10(10):3554. https://doi.org/10.3390/su10103554

Chicago/Turabian Style

Winter, Kawika B., Kamanamaikalani Beamer, Mehana Blaich Vaughan, Alan M. Friedlander, Mike H. Kido, A. Nāmaka Whitehead, Malia K.H. Akutagawa, Natalie Kurashima, Matthew Paul Lucas, and Ben Nyberg. 2018. "The Moku System: Managing Biocultural Resources for Abundance within Social-Ecological Regions in Hawaiʻi" Sustainability 10, no. 10: 3554. https://doi.org/10.3390/su10103554

APA Style

Winter, K. B., Beamer, K., Vaughan, M. B., Friedlander, A. M., Kido, M. H., Whitehead, A. N., Akutagawa, M. K. H., Kurashima, N., Lucas, M. P., & Nyberg, B. (2018). The Moku System: Managing Biocultural Resources for Abundance within Social-Ecological Regions in Hawaiʻi. Sustainability, 10(10), 3554. https://doi.org/10.3390/su10103554

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