I've not shared anything with you folks before, simply because I haven't had anything to offer.
I was not born with a passion for palms. We (my wife and I) fell into this peculiar and fascinating world quite by chance. Like anything, the more you learn, the more interesting things become. That said, all we have to offer you is our experience managing a legacy garden.
Irene & I bought Casa de Las Palmas on Hawaii Island in 2017. The garden was the tropical fantasy world of the late San Diego nurseryman Jerry Hunter.
Mr. Hunter was successful. He’d started his company in the 1950's, and was the 33rd licensed Landscape Architect in California. He'd been involved with the design of San Diego Zoo, Wild Animal Park, and Balboa Botanical Gardens, among many others. He had the first tissue culture lab in Southern California. His parents had been the go-to people on the west coast for begonias. He was essentially American plant royalty.
He figured out that if he grew his tropicals in Hawaii and shipped them to California, he'd be ahead of the competition. He built a nursery in Hilo and bought the land for Casa de Las Palmas. It would serve as his home away from home, and as a showroom for his wealthy clients.
Construction of the garden began in 1981 on almost seven acres of upland pasture. The volcanic clay soil was not suitable for planting juvenile plants, so untold tons of cinder and rock were brought in, and the landscape shaped and molded into what we see today. Most of the planting was done into cinder mounds.
For the design of Casa de Las Palmas he worked with the local landscape architect Brian Lievens, whom he would task with sourcing some of the rare plants from east Hawaii's growers.
Brian was gracious enough to provide us with the original planting plans of the garden which are now laminated and framed on the lanai. These exquisite plans (like a cross between a complex wiring diagram and an artwork) were how we learned about the palms in the garden. We spent endless evenings cross referencing the botanic names with The Encyclopedia of Cultivated Palms.
Being a nurseryman from San Diego, Mr. Hunter had a crew of extremely hard working and talented Mexican men build the garden for him. A swimming hole was hand-hewn under one of the waterfalls. A delicate stone foot bridge was created over the stream. We were told that the lava rock paths took three years to complete.
And the scale of plantings were nothing short of colossal. The kind only a successful nurseryman like Mr. Hunter could even contemplate.
We were lucky enough to apprentice under one of the original employees, Cristobal. Without his dedication and care we would never have got off the starting line, our ignorance would have been absolute, the garden would have fallen into chaos.
I recall how early on we planted a dwarf papaya on a cinder mound next to a Metroxylon amicarum and Dypsis carlsmithii (now Chrysalidocarpus carlsmithii), much to Cristobal's unspoken, but obvious, distress. Shortly afterwards a large palm leaf fell and destroyed the papaya. We took this as a sign that the garden requires a certain amount of respect. Since then, staying true to the intentions of the garden has been something we work hard on. When we plant, we consider the design. Perhaps we plant a Alocasia zebrina underneath the Caryota zebrina to mimic its petioles. Perhaps the Pinanga distitcha should be planted near the Licuala mattanensis “Mapu” to mirror their mottled leaf forms.
Constant working in the garden reveals new insights every day. Sometimes it's like garden archeology, discovering a long-overgrown path or a rare plant languishing under piles of fallen leaves. Sometimes it's a lesson in design - realizing that most of the plants in an area share undulating leaf forms or that the color scheme is quite deliberately rigid.
Casa de Las Palmas has evolved from a carefully orchestrated young garden into a mature ecosystem. Plants have produced progeny and plants have died. The blueprint has gotten a little more fuzzy. Many of the palms are too big to groom now. Everything fights for light, air and nutrients. It has become naturalized.
Pretty soon we realized that the nutrients the garden demands couldn't be met by chemical fertilizer. It was just too expensive. So, we looked into goats. We now have six gelded males rescued from the butcher's block and fenced on a neighboring paddock we own. They provide plenty of manure for the garden. Their poop doesn't smell much, is hard and breaks down slowly and can be flung from a shovel in showers through the dense plantings. The plants love it, but we do supplement weak or needy palms with a special palm fertilizer as needed.
Legacy gardens are by their nature equal parts demanding and rewarding. They offer those of us new to gardening an incredible learning experience. We certainly don't have the kind of money, manpower or knowledge required to create something so remarkable from scratch. But like buying a beautiful, world-weary house, after a lot of work, you can enjoy something unique, grand and magical. Really for us it is the magical spell that
Casa de las Palmas puts you under, one that removes us from the world and enchants us, that makes this legacy garden so very special.
Lastly, I'll leave you with three things of note that we have learned:
Map your garden.
Don't make it too big.
And don't go planting Clinostigma samoense down the driveway...or any heavy crownshaft palms for that matter!
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