The Memorial Reef - Maye Pruijn

THE

MEMORIAL REEF

a ritual route in which we give back to the coral reefs of Ka Lae

Maye Pruijn

Master Architectuur

graduation year : 2024 / 2025 graduation commission mentor Ricky Rijkenberg

graduation commission : Marlies boterman Sarah Engelhard

external committee members for the examination Ira Koers Rogier van den Brink

THE MEMORIAL REEF

a ritual route in which we give back to the coral reefs of Ka Lae

This research has been developed as a spatial and ritual exploration of ecological restoration, introducing new conceptual frameworks for understanding the relationship between architecture, the ocean, and the land.

I implement small interventions in the landscape that foster a spiritual connection and a poetic dialogue between humans and nature, inspired by the Kumulipo. How can we, as humans, give something back to the coralreefs? Is it possible to cultivate sensory awareness of the value of our ocean? And how can I, as a designer, engage in an intervention at an architectural scale— with the reef as the client?

Introduction

Summary

RESEARCH

The problem

Coral reefs

What are coral reefs?

How do they live and what do they need?

Symbiotic relationships

Threaths and impacts

Who depends on the reefs?

Solutions for conservation,

restoration and cultivation of coral

reefs

Location

Historical context

Culture

Contextual research of the landscape

Contextual research of the ocean

Problem statement of Ka Lae

Existing coral typologies

Potential solution for the location

Contextual parameters

Sacred sites

What are sacred sites?

Local sacred sites

Spatial translation of the Kumulipo

Space and senses

Concept

DESIGN

The route

Route one - The funeral

High grasses

Lava rocks

The bridge

The chapel

Ceremonial space

Atelier

Material studies

The trench

Stepping stones

High grasses

Route two - The memorial service

High grasses

Lava rocks

The bridge

The oratory

The room of silence

The observatory

The lavatube

To the cliffs

Ocean observatory

Through the cliffs

The stairs

The memorial reef

Passing the cliffs

Return

Source of the earth

Exhale

Resurfaced

INTRODUCTION

INTRODUCTION

INTRODUCTION

We find ourselves living in the wake of a profound entanglement—a time when the Earth bears the unmistakable imprint of human hands. Forests cleared, rivers rerouted, climates shifted, oceans warmed. The age we inhabit, the Anthropocene, is not simply a geological epoch. It is a mirror held to our collective conscience, reflecting both power and peril, intention and accident.

This naming—Anthropocene—is a summons. Not only for scientists, but for us: spatial thinkers, architects, and listeners of land and sea. How do we design in the face of ecological unraveling? What languages, forms, and gestures might architecture offer, not to dominate, but to repair?

Should the human still be the measure by which we shape the world? I believe not. The illusion of mastery must give way to reciprocity. We must understand ourselves as part of a dense web of ecological relations — animals, plants, minerals, currents, winds— not in hierarchy, but in equal relationship.

To design in the Anthropocene is to listen and to be considerate and conscious. It is to humble the blueprint and attune to morethan-human rhythms—of coral spawning under a full moon, of currents sculpting submerged topographies, of fish schooling across invisible architectures. This is no longer architecture for humans alone, but architecture with the ocean, with the land, with all species whose lives unfold in parallel to ours.

And yet, the ocean—vast and vital—remains largely unknown. We have mapped more of the moon than of the ocean floor. Beneath the waves exist unseen landscapes of canyons, volcanic ridges, seamounts and the reefs — the fragile cathedrals of biodiversity.

Although they cover less than 1% of the ocean floor, coral reefs provide habitat for nearly 25% of all marine life. Considering that over 70% of our planet is covered by ocean water, the ecological importance of these small but rich ecosystems cannot be overstated.

Unfortunately, they are dying.

Since the 19th century, over half of all reefs have been lost. By 2030, 90% will be at risk. By 2050, almost all may collapse. The causes—warming waters, acidification, pollution—are human signatures. With each bleaching, each collapse, we lose more than color— ‘no blue, no green - no water, no land.’ We lose memory, balance, futures.

As Sir David Attenborough reminds us: “If we save the sea, we save our world”

This work emerges as both response and ritual. I propose a path—a designed journey of farewell—where we walk toward the sea to say goodbye to our loved ones. A place of salt, waves, wind, currents, and water where grief is not severance, but return in the emerged landscape of Ka Lae. Here, we offer our stories, our bodies, our breath back to the ocean. We surrender what was, so that something new may root in the reef. This becomes a place for memory.

Can architecture hold space for this? Can it become a vessel for mourning, for meaning, for marine regeneration?I imagine an architecture that listens rather than instructs, and makes place for the natural environment —porous, tidal, alive. Structures shaped by currents and ecosystems, foundationed by people. Forms that do not resist decay, but collaborate with it. A built language of care.

This research explores architecture as medium for ecological restoration and spiritual reconnection and memory. A space in which we might dwell not as users, but as participants in a broader choreography the of ecological life and where we get touched by all senses, so we can remember the moments. The coralreefs are not backdrop— it is client.

To build with the sea is to build with humility. With awe. With the knowledge that we are not apart from nature, but of it.

Let us design with the reef in mind. Let us listen, let us grieve, let us make memories, feel connected to space, and let us give back to our coral environments.

“New The Symbioceen, way to replace The Symbiocene man is no longer part of it and

earth emotions

“New terms for a new era Symbioceen, which is now on its replace the Anthropocene. Symbiocene is an era in which longer above nature, but and cooperates with it.”

- Glenn Albrecht

SUMMARY

SUMMARY

SUMMARY

The project “The Memorial Reef” is situated at Ka Lae, on the Island of Hawai‘i —the most southern point of the remote Hawaiian archipelago, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. It is a place of deep cultural, ecological, and historical significance, intertwined with nature. Here, the first Polynesians are believed to have arrived. Today, the landscape is characterized by raw, largely untouched nature that is rapidly changing: lava fields, tall grasses, wild horses, lava tubes, blowholes, volcanic views of the active Kilauea volcano, coral beaches, green sand, steep cliffs, and a vast horizon that dissolves into the depths of the “infinite” ocean. The marine life surrounding Ka Lae has become increasingly vulnerable due to ecological degradation caused by human activities—despite the fact that these waters are largely inaccessible to most people.

This project approaches the site as a place of farewell, transition, remembrance, awareness, and regeneration. The design proposal outlines a ritual farewell route in which the body of a deceased loved one is returned to the ocean and transformed into a “remembrance stone”. This stone—made from human ashes and oceanic materials — is a calcareous, solid substrate designed to foster new coral growth. At the end of the ritual, the remembrance stone is offered to the sea at a location where a coral reef once thrived. The transition from land to sea, from place to memory, and from death to new life forms a contrasting yet symbiotic guiding principle for the design. This transformative act is rooted in the Hawaiian concepts of mauka (toward the land) and makai (toward the sea), which are employed as spatial concepts throughout the design process.

The ritual structure is inspired by the Kumulipo, the traditional Hawaiian cosmological creation chant, transcribed by Queen Lili’uokalani, the last monarch of the Kingdom of Hawai‘i. The Kumulipo recounts the origins of life, beginning with the coral polyp, and envisions a world in which sea and land, flora and fauna, divinity and humanity are intrinsically interconnected. In this project, the Kumulipo serves as a spatial-scriptural model: the landscape interventions respond to the natural and spiritual locations described in the chant and materialize as physical spaces of remembrance, reflection, and ecological and spiritual engagement.

The design interventions unfold along a ritual route of farewell through the landscape, including a chapel, sensory landscape thresholds, an observatory, and the “The Memorial Reef.” Each element corresponds with specific ecological and landscape qualities and is intended to enhance the sensory relationship and awareness between visitor and environment. The “The Memorial Reef” is the final element of the route: a sacred coral reserve where the remembrance stone—composed of human remains and natural materials—is placed within an artificial reef structure designed to promote coral growth and stimulate marine biodiversity.

The spatial parameters—such as light, orientation, depth, currents, substrate shape, placement angle, and texture—are derived from the ecological needs of various coral species and site-specific conditions, with particular attention to

coral diversity. What kinds of life attach themselves between land and sea? Who are the corals, and what does their existence look like? Who lives with them, who depends on them? What are the stakes of their being? Some coral species adapt effortlessly. But all share one fundamental need: a hard substrate on which to grow. Variation, adaptability, and layering of the human-made substrate are used as design strategies to maximize the potential for settlement and ecological succession.

Scientific knowledge regarding the design and effectiveness of artificial reefs is still limited. For this reason, the underwater structure in this project follows an adaptive design model, centered on cycles of observation, modification, and monitoring. This approach recognizes design as a co-evolutionary process in which the human is not merely an active maker, but a listening participant situated within a larger ecological whole.

“The Memorial reef” is thus a design proposal that weaves together ecological, spiritual, and cultural layers into a spatial intervention. It serves as a space for mourning, memory, transedance and the generation of new life. It offers habitat for future marine organisms, as well as a contribution to terrestrial biodiversity. By reframing architecture not as a static form, but as a temporary facilitator of ecological processes and human meanings, this project proposes a model for how design can offer an ethical and aesthetic response to the fragility of our planet and our interdependence with coral reefs.

The exposed landscape

Ka Lae, South Point, Island Of Hawai’i, Hawai’i, United States of America (2023)

RESEARCH

RESEARCH

THE PROBLEM

Coral reefs are among the most biologically rich and productive ecosystems on Earth, yet they are bleaching and disappearing at an alarming rate.

Since the late 19th century, over 50% of the world’s reefs have been lost, primarily due to human-driven climate change, ocean acidification, overfishing, and pollution. These fragile systems, which occupy less than 1% of the ocean floor, support roughly 25% of all marine life and provide food, income, and coastal protection for over 500 million people worldwide. Their decline threatens not only marine biodiversity, but the stability of entire coastal economies and cultures. As reefs vanish, so too do the intricate relationships that have evolved over millennia between coral, fish, water, and human life—an ecological unraveling with planetary consequences.

WHAT ARE CORALS?

Coral reefs are complex, biogenic structures formed by the calcium carbonate skeletons of reef-building corals, primarily stony (hard) corals or soft corals, which exist in symbiosis with photosynthetic algae known as zooxanthellae.

These ecosystems develop in shallow, warm marine waters and are characterized by high biodiversity, structural complexity, and ecological productivity. Functioning as foundational habitats, coral reefs support a vast array of marine organisms and play a critical role in nutrient cycling, shoreline protection, and global carbon dynamics. Despite occupying less than 1% of the ocean floor, they are among the most ecologically significant and sensitive ecosystems on the planet.

WHAT ARE CORALS?

MORPHOLOGY. Coral colonies are made up of hundred of thousend of interconnected coral polyps. Each coral polyp has soft feeding tentacles which are only extended and visible when the polyps are actively feeding. Hard coral polyps live in solid calcium carbonate cups called corralites. The body walls of hard coral polyps contain microsopic algea called zooxanthellea, which use the corals for shelrer in return for extra energy to the corals by using sunlight to produse energy through photosynthesis. Soft coral polyps which cannot produce calcium carbonate live in fleshy skelletons which are supported by spiny skeletal elements called sclerites.

Corals are broadly categorized into two groups: soft corals and hard corals, distinguished by their morphology, skeletal structure, and taxonomic classification. Soft corals belong to the subclass Octocorallia and are characterized by polyps with eight tentacles. Lacking rigid calcium carbonate skeletons, their flexible structures do not contribute to reef formation and can be visibly displaced by water movement or touch. In contrast, hard corals fall within the subclass Hexacorallia, with polyps typically exhibiting tentacle arrangements in multiples of six. These corals secrete calcium carbonate to form rigid, stony exo-skeletons that remain fixed and persist long after the organism’s death. As such, hard corals are classified as reef-building species, playing a foundational role in the long-term accretion and structural integrity of coral reef ecosystems.

WHAT ARE CORALS?

ACROPORA CORAL SPECIES. Acropora refers to one genus of corals. The acropora gesus is a huge divers group containing many species of corals which can be very similiar and difficult to identify. There are two main features that distinguish acropora species: 1. Distinctive upturned cup-like coralites; 2. Terminal polyp at the apex of every branch.

NON-ACROPORA CORAL SPECIES. non-acropora coral species refers to any species found in any of the other genus which are not the genus Acropora. They have corallites which are very diverse in appearence and are arranged in a continious mat all over the surface of the coral. They do not have terminal polyps.

WHAT ARE CORALS?

CORALLITE TYPES. This is the growth form in micro level.Acropora corallites are always plocoid. NonAcropora corallites can be any of the corallite types.

Plocoid: corallites with their own walls

Phaceloid: Corallites with individual walss

Flabello Meandroid: Corallites formed in valleys which have their own walls.

Meandroid: Corallites formed in valleys which share common walls.

Ceroid: Corallites which are share common walls.

Plocoid

Phaceloid

Flabello Meandroid

Cerioid

WHAT ARE CORALS?

GROWTH FORMS . Identification of the growth form. Growthform refers to the way in which the coral is growing. A coral may go through more than one growth form in a lifetime. Different growth forms perform different to ecological functions within the coral reef ecosystem. Therefore, when surveying a reef to asess reef health, growth form is an important factor to consider.

It is also important for restoration as a reef which is predomantly one or a few growthforms will not perform as many ecosystems functions and will therefore not be as heatlhy, or as resilent, as a reef which has a range of growth forms. Some growthforms are faster than others which makes them more suitable for restoration for example or to grow on certain types of substrates. Some grow easier and aare quicker to grow.

WHAT ARE CORALS?

Branching. bushy structures, individual branches split into many more braches

Digitate. Short, chubby fingers. Form clusters. Individual branches may occasionally grow a second brach but that second branch will not split.

Encrusting.

Like paint on a rock. Forms large mats following the contours of the surface they are growing on. Fairly uncommon.

Sub-massive.

Thick columnar. Fairly uncommon and difficult to distinguish as terminal polyp is not obvious but always has distinctive acropora cup like corallites.

Laminar.

Plate like. Form flat roughly round plate structures are attached to the substrate at the edges of the plate.

Tabulate.

Table-like. Form flat, roughly round table structures witn an abvious central ‘leg’ holding up the structure.

HOW DO CORALS LIVE?

NON-ACROPORA CORAL SPECIES.

Branching. Bushy structures, individual branches split into many more braches. Do not form structures as alarge as the acropora branching

Foliose. Rose petal-like. Form singular pencil sharpening-like structures or large mats of rose petals. Brittle and easily broken.

Encrusting. Like paint on a rock. Forms large mats following the contours of the surface they are growing on. Fairly uncommon.

Sub-massive. Columnar. Form large structures with water spaces between the columns which reach right down to the base of the structure. Columns are sometimes so tightly packed the water spaces are barely visible.

Massive. Solid lumpy structures grow upwards and outwards in a contiuous mound. Can form huge structures.

Mushroom. One single corallite. Free-living, not attached to the reef. Can be round, oblong, T- or Yshaped. Often form in large groups creating fields.

WHAT DO THEY NEED?

To be a coral is to dwell in stillness and symbiosis—a living architecture shaped by light, water, and deep time. Neither singular nor solitary, the coral is a colonial organism: thousands of genetically identical polyps working in quiet unison, secreting calcium carbonate to form the structural foundation of marine ecosystems. Rooted yet responsive, it feeds nocturnally through plankton capture and photosynthesizes by day in symbiotic partnership with zooxanthellae—an algae-coral mutualism as ancient as the reefs themselves.

Corals are both fragile and foundational. They scaffold biodiversity, offering shelter, breeding grounds, and foraging spaces to thousands of marine species, from herbivorous fish and urchins to sponges and crustaceans. Yet they exist at the margins of habitability, finely attuned to a narrow spectrum of environmental conditions.

Optimal growth occurs between 23–29°C, in salinities of 32–35 ppt, and under sunlight-rich conditions at depths of 0–30 meters. The structural integrity of reef systems is supported by corals that

calcify best at a pH of 8.0–8.3, often settling on substrates inclined 10–30°—a geometry that balances light exposure with sediment resistance. They require low nutrient environments, tropical sea temperatures with low yearly fluctuations, hard substrates on which to attach, low sediment levels in the water column and high light intensisty. They are slow growing and slow to evolve. These specific requirements make it difficult for corals to thrive in our constantly changing environments.

A brief thermal anomaly or a slight drop in pH, and corals bleach—expelling their algal symbionts and turning pale, spectral witnesses to a destabilized climate.

To inhabit the life of a coral is to inhabit time differently: to build slowly, accretively, in dialogue with ocean currents, sunlight, and other lives. Their silence articulates an ethic of interdependence—form emerging through relation, vulnerability as strength. In their mode of being, corals offer us not only a record of ecological history, but a model for design: responsive, collaborative, and embedded within the rhythms of the morethan-human world.

SYMBIOTIC RELATIONSHIPS.

In the shifting currents of the Anthropocene, where human agency reshapes planetary systems, the coral reef stands as both a warning and a guide. These submerged landscapes— complex, vulnerable, and radiant—are not passive victims of change, but dynamic architectures of cohabitation. They embody a form of living design shaped by interdependence, metabolism, and reciprocity. Within them, symbiosis is not anomaly, but principle.

In ALIVE: Advancements in Adaptive Architecture, Kretzer and Hovestadt describe symbiosis as a model for rethinking architectural agency: “the aim … to achieve the symbiotic behavior and metabolic balance found in the natural environment. To do so, architecture operates like an organism.” This is not metaphor, but mandate. If architecture is to endure, it must learn from systems that build with time, climate, species, and death.

Coral reefs are among the most potent teachers of this approach. Composed of billions of tiny organisms constructing monumental limestone cities, reefs are built not by dominance, but by relation. They thrive through partnerships that are metabolic and affective, each species participating in the reef’s formation, maintenance, and renewal. To observe the reef is to witness a choreography of coauthorship.

1. The Architects of Light: Coral and Zooxanthellae

At the heart of reef-building lies the partnership between hard corals and microscopic algae known as zooxanthellae. These symbiotic algae dwell within coral tissues, harnessing sunlight to perform photosynthesis. The sugars and oxygen they produce nourish the coral host; in return, the coral offers shelter, minerals, and access to light.

This is the energetic backbone of reef construction—a pact of light and stone. Here, metabolism becomes form. The coral’s calcium carbonate skeletons are precipitated through the energy exchanged in this relationship, generating the reef’s vast structures. The architecture that results is not imposed upon the landscape but grown within it, sustained by shared breath.

2. Guardians of Form: Crustaceans and Coral

Among the reef’s branches live crustacean defenders: small crabs and shrimp such as Trapezia species. These creatures dwell in the coral’s crevices, vigilant against threats like the crown-of-thorns starfish. When danger nears, they emerge—not to flee, but to protect.

This symbiosis is rooted in reciprocity: the coral offers habitat; the crustaceans offer defense. These tiny bodies act as living extensions of the reef’s infrastructure, woven into its sensory and protective capacities. The boundary between organism and architecture dissolves— structure becomes sentient, responsive, alive.

3. Gardeners of Balance: Herbivores and Algal Control

Without intervention, algae would overwhelm the coral, blocking sunlight and suffocating the reef. It is the grazing of parrotfish, sea urchins, and other herbivores that maintains the reef’s delicate balance. Their feeding removes excess growth, creating space for coral recruitment and regeneration.

This act of consumption is not destruction, but care. These animals sculpt the reef not by design, but by need. In return, the reef offers nourishment and shelter. This mutual dependency generates a feedback loop—a living maintenance system where architecture is not fixed but continually renegotiated by its inhabitants.

Together, these symbiotic relationships reveal a model of architecture that is adaptive, participatory, and metabolic. They show that design need not dominate nature, but can emerge from within its logics—relational, responsive, and alive.

As we imagine futures in which the artificial and the organic intertwine, coral reefs offer a profound guide. They teach us that resilience lies not in control, but in connection. That sustainability is not a condition, but a practice of attunement. That form, in its most enduring state, is shared.

In an era of ecological precarity, the reef does not merely survive—it performs survival through collaboration. Its survival is a ritual, enacted daily, across species and centuries. To design like a reef is to design with others: with light, with algae, with hunger, with shelter. And perhaps, as architects, we too must learn to build not alone, but in relation—to make space for others to live.

THREATHS AND IMPACTS.

Coral reefs are under threat fron many angles, predominatly caused by human both directly and indirectly.

75% of the corals worldwide are under threath. these threaths are continuing increase causing worldwide declines in corals and consequently declines in other organisms which rely on the reefs.

THREATHS AND IMPACTS | GLOBAL

CHANGES IN SEA TEMPERATURE. Global warming causes rises in sea temperature. Some species can tolarate higher and sometimes lower temperatures for shorter time of period than the avarage tolerance of 23-29C. This sensitivity means that temperature shifts of even a few degrees, can have an affact on coral mortality.

SEA-LEVEL RISE. This rising temperatures caused by global warmings are also causing record levels of melting ice at the poles. The resultant inceased influx of water is causing the sealevel to rise which increases the depth at which the orals are located. As we know, the best depth for corals is between 0-30 meters deep. With rising sealevels, de light intensity will decrease, meaning algea within the coral can not photosynthesise as well.

OCEAN ACIDIFICATION. The increased levels of carbon dioxide (CO2) in the athmosphere, caused by burning fossil fuels, increases the amount of CO2 dissolving into the oceans. This is causing the oceans to be more acidic rather than slightly alkaline. The chemical reactions which occur when CO2 dissolves into the sea water also reduces the saturation states of calsium carbonate minerals into the ocean. As corals require calcium corbonate to produce their skeleton, this reduces the rate at which corals can grow. It also affects other calcifying organisms such as crustaceans, snails and sea urchins and zooplankton.

CHANGING STORM PATTERNS. More frequent and higher intensity storms

are causing more extensice physical damage to individual corals and the overall framework of coral reefs. Storms can also kick up sediment which decreases light intensity and settles on corals, smothering them. Corals are adapted, evalutionary speaking, to recover from storms, however, when they are under stress from so many other impacts, their resilence and ability to recover is reduced.

ALTERED OCEANIC CURRENTS. Changes in oceanic currents affects movements of pollutants, nutrients, and larvae as well as temperature transfers.

CHANGES

IN PRECIPITATION. Increased rainfall causes more sediment to be washed into the oceans from the land (sedimentation). Increased sedimentation reduces the light intenity reaching the corals. The sediment can also be settle on the corals, effectivly smothering them and blocking out all the light. Rainfall also increases run-off of pollutants and can increase the influx of fresh water into river mounth areas.

EL NINO SOUTHERN OSCILLATION.

This refers to the cycle of warm and cold sea temperatures of the tropical, central and eastrn pacific ocean. The ENSO cycle includes two phases: El Nino is high air pressure in the Western Pacific and low air pressure in the Eastern Pacific. Places like Hawai’i which are located in the middle, will feel the effect of El Nino intensly. The cycle causes global changes in temperatures and rainfall, exacerbating the impacts on climate change on reefs.

THREATHS AND IMPACTS | LOCAL

Local impacts are more focussed issues caused by human activities in the local area.

COASTAL DEVELOPMENT.

Large or small scale developments on the coastline near reefs can have serious effects. Developments involve removing mangrove forests, dredging, increased pollution, increased run-off during construction, increased tourism and recreational activities. In the past, corals have even been mined for building materials.

TOURISM AND RECREATION.

Increased tourism and recreation, while often beneficial for an area economically, can have an icreased impact on the reefs. Coral breakages are caused by divers, swimmers and snorklers whilst pollution increases from sunscreen chemicals, plastic and rubbish. Boat propellors and anchirs can damage reefs if not used appropiately.

POLLUTION. Land based pollution affects 25% of reefs globally. On the one biggest causes of ocean pollution is plastics in the environment. plastic does not break down easily in the ocean, and instead drif around in ocean currents, gathering in large collections and washing up on beaches. Plastic bags floating in the water can be mistaken for jellyfish and consumed by a variety of marine organisms, often resulting in death.

OVERFISHING. Overfhishng is the biggers non climate related threath to coral reefs, affecting over 50% globally. Heavy and unsustainable fishing activities remove

key species from the ecosystem which effectively puts the whole sysytem out of kilter and results in widestread knock-on effects. Fishing activities often begin near the top of the food chain with the larger, more commercial fish species, as ahi (tuna). As the more desirable fish become less available and harder to catch in large numbers the fisherman begin to fish down the food chain to smaller as wel younger fish. Fishingout the young fish means that they have had less or no time to reproduce, which heavily affect the populations. Herbivores are often heaily fished as they are commercially valueable. Reducing the populations of herbivores results in less grazing of the algea on the reef, causing creased levels of algea. Large amounts of algea smothers coral, uses up oxygen and can cause of alge a smothers coral, uses up oxygen and can cause an ecosystem shift from coral dominated reefs to unproductive algea dominated reefs.

DESTRUCTIVE FISHING.

There are many destructive fishingsome methods widespread while others are locaised traditonal methods. Some examples of common methods include dynamite explosions, cyanide poisoning and trawl fishing. These methods cause varying degrees of damage but are often unselective, killing on target species and causing extensive damage to the surrounding areas

THREATHS AND IMPACTS.

BLEACHING. Corals contain microscopic algea called zooxanthellae within the walls of the polyps. These algea use the corals for shelter and protection in return they produce energt for the corals through photosynthesis. The extra energy provided by the zooxanthellae helps thecorals to produce their calsum carbonate skeleton. This proces means that corals have many of the same requirements as plants. The zooxanthellae are also what gives corals their color.

When corals are under stress, like elevated sea temperatures, run off, pollution, over-exposure to sunlight or extreme low tides - they expel the zooxanthellae and consquently lose their colour, becoming white. this proces is named bleaching.

It is imporant to remember that bleached corals are not dead. It is possible to uptake new algea and to recover, however, if they remain bleached and under stress for a prolonged time the coral will die.

DISEASE. There are many diseases which can affect corals. These van be exacerbated by other impacts which but the coral under stress and lower their resilence.

PREDATION. Many reef organisms feed directly or inderictly on corals, which is a natural process. However, with other impacts affecting the reefs or exacerbating the levels of predation, then predation can become a problem. The main coral preditors are:

- Crown or thorns starfish (COTS). These are very common in Hawai’i and form a treath for the reefs. A large starfish with up to 21 arms. They are covered in posonous spines and feed directly on corals. One starfish can consume 6m2 of coral a year. Small numers of these starfish on reef can be a healthy population, however if their natrual predatiors are heavily fished out then COTS populations can explode. COTS are notoriously difficult to remove due the posioness spines and their ability to spawn if threatened. This means they have to be injected with poison or carefully removed from water entrily to cull populations.

- Drupella snails. Small carnivorous snails wihich use a sandpapter like thong to feed directly from corals.

- Herbivores. There are many species of herbivore. These fish graze on the algea growing on corals and indirectly scrape the corals, damaging them.

- Callivores. Some fish feed directoly on coral polyps. Various other organisms feed on corals such as fireworms and nudibranchs.

WHO DEPEND ON THE REEFS?

The loss of reef habitats further endangers already vulnerable species, exacerbating their risk of extinction.

The interaction between predator and prey plays a crucial role in maintaining ecological balance. Disruptions in food chains can destabilize these interactions, leading to imbalances among species.

Fish populations and biodiversity are under threat, affecting 25% of all marine species. They are losing their shelter, feeding grounds, and breeding sites.

Symbiotic relationships break down, resulting in the loss of essential habitats for many species.

The process of carbon sequestration via calcification is diminishing, reducing the ocean’s capacity to store carbon.

Changes in ocean chemistry are leading to significant disruptions in pH levels and fundamental biogeochemical cycles.

Medicinal compounds derived from reef organisms (e.g., for cancer or pain treatment) are becoming inaccessible.

Biological research loses a crucial source of knowledge on resilience and symbiosis.

WHO DEPEND ON THE REEFS?

Ecological collapse occurs as ecosystems transition to degraded conditions dominated by algal proliferation.

Increased global warming is exacerbated by the decline of coral reefs, which diminishes their capacity to absorb carbon dioxide and thermal energy.

Reduced damping of wave energy results in heightened coastal erosion.

Without the protective buffering provided by coral reefs, storm surges inflict significantly increased damage.

Coastal zones experience a loss of stability, leading to gradual submersion

WHO DEPEND ON THE REEFS?

Cultural identity, especially within coastal and indigenous populations, is increasingly threatened and eroded.

The deterioration of coral reefs leads to a decline in tourism, adversely impacting local economies.

The collapse of fisheries results in the loss of food security and livelihoods for millions of people.

The decline of reef ecosystems leads to the erosion of traditional ecological knowledge.

Island-based local economies are losing their fundamental economic foundations.

Rising unemployment is observed within the sectors of fisheries, tourism, and environmental

Coastal properties experience depreciation and heightened vulnerability to damage.

SOLUTIONS FOR RESTORATION, CULTIVATION AND CONSERVATION

In this epoch of ecological unraveling, inaction is no longer tenable—the preservation of coral reefs demands intentional, informed, and reverent engagement.

Though the scale of global threats renders full restoration improbable, this does not absolve us of responsibility. Instead, it compels a shift in consciousness— toward recognition of reefs not as distant ecologies, but as essential infrastructures of life, woven into the planetary fabric we all inhabit.

While large-scale reversal may lie beyond our reach, local action remains possible. Coral reef restoration, though still emerging and uncertain in its long-term efficacy, offers a form of situated repair—a practice of care and reciprocity. It is not a panacea, but a meaningful response: an embodied ethics that acknowledges loss while nurturing resilience, one fragment at a time.

Coral restoration is the process of assisting the recovery of an ecosystem that has been degraded, damaged or destroyed.

Restoration of reefs is possible although it requires a long time and monetary investment, as well as a good knowledge and skill base. It is also not the only solution and it is importatnt to remember that restoration words best when comined with other methods, such as raising awareness, fishing restrictions and responsible diving practices in order to reduce the damage done in the first place. Most solutions start politically.

CONSERVATION FOR THE CORAL REEFS

Coral reef restoration involves a range of scientific, ecological, and community-based strategies aimed at repairing degraded reef systems and enhancing their resilience. While restoration cannot fully reverse the widespread damage caused by climate change, pollution, and overfishing, it can support local recovery and help maintain vital ecosystem functions. Common methods include:

CORAL GARDENING (FRAGMENTATION AND OUTPLANTING)

This widely used method involves collecting healthy coral fragments (often from donor reefs or broken pieces after storms), growing them in underwater or land-based nurseries, and then transplanting them onto degraded reef sites. These fragments are usually fastgrowing, reef-building species.

MICROFRAGMENTATION

A technique used primarily for slow-growing massive corals, where corals are cut into tiny fragments (1 cm2). These fragments are then grown in nurseries; when placed close together on the reef, they fuse and grow faster than larger pieces.

LARVAL PROPAGNATION (SEXUAL REPRODUCTION)

This method collects coral spawn during natural spawning events, fertilizes eggs in controlled conditions, and raises coral larvae. Once settled, the juvenile corals are planted onto reefs. This approach increases genetic diversity, which may improve resilience to stress.

ARTIFICIAL STRUCTURES AND SUBSTRATES

Engineered reef modules, such as concrete structures, ceramic tiles, or biodegradable materials, provide surfaces for coral attachment and habitat for marine life. These structures are often placed in areas where natural substrate is lacking.

ASSISTED EVOLUTION AND SELECTIVE BREEDING.

Researchers are exploring ways to increase coral resilience by breeding individuals that are more heat- or diseasetolerant, or by exposing corals to stressful conditions in labs to “train” them (a process known as preconditioning or epigenetic acclimatization).

ALGAL CONTROL AND HERBIVORE REINTRODUCTION

Restoration often includes removing algae or reintroducing herbivorous species (e.g., sea urchins or parrotfish) that keep algae in check, thereby creating conditions more favorable for coral settlement and survival.

COMMUNITY BASED MANAGEMENT, MONITORING AND PROTECTION

Restoration must be paired with local conservation efforts, such as establishing Marine Protected Areas (MPAs), regulating fishing practices, reducing land-based pollution, and involving local communities in stewardship and monitoring.

For this project I research more of coral gardening, artificial reefs and outplanting.

SOLUTIONS

CONSERVATION FOR THE CORAL REEFS

CORALS OF OPPORTUNITY.

Corals reproduce sexually by releasing eggs and sperm into the water column in a process called spawning. When corals spawn, their sperm and eggs can travel over the shoreline between 10-20 kilometers in a diameter with the currents.

They also reproduce asexually through a process called budding whereby a polyp splits into two or grows another polyp beside it.

As well as this, some frowth forms use a process called fragmentation as a method of colonizing new areas. This is where natural process, such as storms or other organism activity, such as turtles feeding or human activity break of fragments of colonies. These fragments are them moved around by water movement and, if lucky, will get stuck into a rock or crevicce elsewhere. They will them rattach, foriing a new colony awat from the parent colony.

These coral fragments are known as coral of opportunity and are the best corals of use in coral gardening as it doesnt soce breaking healthy colonies. It also gives these loose fragments a much better chance of survival than they would have naturally. The corals which are most easily fragmented are those whic are in chranging or digitate growth forms. Occassionally, you may find some sub-massive growth form fragments, or seleciton of tabutale, foliose or laminar.

The best growht form types for coral gardening are branching and digitate as they are faster growing and more resilent to fragmentation. In praticular, Acropora corals are more ligely to survive due the wat that they grow.

Finding corals of oppertunity involves looking for branching and digitate colonies and searching the surrounding areas for fragments.

SOLUTIONS FOR RESTORATION, CULTIVATION AND CONSERVATION

CORAL RESTORATION SITE ASSESMENT.

CHOOSING A SITE FOR RESTORATION

.

Were there coral colonies previously at the site of interest?

→ NO: This is not a coral reef habitat and therefore should not be restored.

→ YES: next question

Do you know what impacts caused the coral reef to degrade?

→ NO: Assess the damage to determine the causes of reef degradation.

→ YES: next question

Have steps been taken to stop or manage these impacts?

→ NO: Restoration is not recommended until recurring impacts are resolved.

→ YES: next question

Are there any conditions preventing the reef’s natural recovery?

→ NO: Assess whether active restoration is needed alongside natural growth.

→ YES: Coral restoration can be investigated and planned for this site.

PLANNING CONSIDERATIONS.

There is a concerning lack of planning and management across coral reef restoration programs. In many cases restoration activities are implemented with no monitoring or impact assessmens conducted and with no monitoring or maintenance planned. It is essential that teach site of interest is fully assessed for suitability and that an appropriate plan of action is developed for the specific conditions and impacts present. A Healthy reference site located near the proposed restoration area, with as similar conditions as possible should be assessed to ensure that the coral composition and reef structure can be createsd as naturally as possible.

CONSERVATION FOR THE CORAL REEFS

Factors to assess when planning a restoration project include substrate type, benthic, gradient, ambient conditions, and ongoing impacts.

* Substrate:

* Silt

* Rubble

* Rock

* Sand

* Seagrass

* Gradient:

* Flat

* Shallow

* Moderate

* Steep

* Current:

* Low

* Medium

* High

Other ambient conditions to assess include but are not limited to:

* Light Penetration (Visibility) turbidity

* Saline = 3,5%

* Temperature water : 26-27C, Corals need a watertemperature of 23C-29C

* Nutrient Levels : high - phytoplankton

* Stromingssterkte : Halaea Current”, 0,4 knots South West

* Wave direction : South East, 1,7m high Make sure to check whether any of these conditions vary by day or seasonality.

THINGS TO CONSIDER DURING THE PLANNING STAGE.

- SMART TARGETS: Specific Measurable Accurate Realistic Timebound

- METHOD: Restoration methods, techniques and designs are always improving – choose one that is appropriate and cost effective. Pilot tests should be conducted.

- MONITOR: Long term monitoring for several years should be undertaken to see if the project is successful and to troubleshoot any issues.

- BUDGET: A cost budget for the full restoration project should be calculated to ensure all activities and costs are included and cost over-runs considered.

MONITORING.

Intensive monitoring is needed at the start of reef restoration projects in order to establish a solid baseline before and measurable criteria. Effective baseline methods for monitoring every restoration site should be developed so that the appropriate methods and tools can be selected for the site of interest, as they can all be site-specific.

Tracking results from these methods will help guide management decisions and show if the project is achieving results. Effective monitoring also enables identification of problems, successes and failures, and allows for adaptive management. Intensive monitoring during the first year of the project is recommended, and long-term monitoring enables tracking reef recovery over time.

Future Monitoring and evaluation provide a feedback loop allowing the project to improve continually.

SOLUTIONS FOR RESTORATION, CULTIVATION AND CONSERVATION

CORAL NURSERY IMPLEMENTATION

NURSERY INSTALLATION.

Coral Nurseries are temporary structures designed to facilitate the propagation of corals. These corals can then be used as parent stock for coral reef restoration. The type and location of the nursery will be determined during the coral restoration site assessment process conducted at the start of the project.

Ensure that the appropriate nursery type is selected for the area being restored. Nursery structures should always be placed on or adjacent to the target restoration site, at the same depth as the corals to be restored. This increases the survival of the corals when they are later transplanted from the nurseries to the substrate.

NURSERY STRUCTURES.

ROPES. Corals placed through ropes.

-Gradient: Steep

- Current: High

BUSHES. Hanging corals in suspension allows them to get light and nutrition from all directions which increases growth.

– Gradient: Moderate

- Current: High

TREES. Corals attached with plastic wire.

– Gradient: Steep

- Current: Low

CONSERVATION FOR THE CORAL REEFS

NURSERY POPULATION.

DIRECT HARVEST.

Breaking corals causes stress to the colony, and in some cases increases mortality. If we break healthy fragments from live coral colonies on the reef to grow in nurseries, we reduce the number of healthy corals on the reef and increase stress on remaining colonies.

Therefore, the overall mass of healthy coral on the reef is reduced – even though the aim is to increase coral. This is unsustainable.

CORALS OF OPPORTUNITY (COOs).

Have already broken off and no longer form part of the healthy colony, causing them to stress. If left where they are, corals of opportunity are unlikely to be healthy due to their position, or they may be too far from the main colony. Rescuing fragments by installing them in nurseries improves survival rates and increases coral mass and distribution.

CORALS OF OPPORTUNITY (COOs) –fragments of coral that already have been broken off from their colonies by other causes (from anchor damage or other causes like storms, turtles and divers) –should be used. Alternatively the use of coral nurseries means than enough coral can be gained for planting through the entire restoration project whilst avoiding the need for continual harvesting from existing healthy reef areas. Even the coral nurseries them selves should be populated with COO’s.

COO’s should be vollected from similar depths to intended nurseries location ideally. Larger coral fragments should be collected so that they van be broken into several smaller pieces that are genetically identical if multiple fragments that have very clearly came from the same parent colony they should be treated as different individuals.

CONCLUSION.

Direct harvesting from healthy reef (even for restoration purposes) is unsustainable and should be avoided.

NURSERY MAINTANANCE.

Once in the nurseries, corals must be cared for whilst they grow for 1 to 2 years before being ready for permanent transplanting. Weekly maintenance is required.

- Scrub and remove all encrusted surfaces with sponges or algae

- Remove filamentous, not coralline & crustose algae or laminarles

- Reduce direct contact with the corals and NEVER scrub corals

- Replace dead coral fragments with new corals or remove completely

- Replace lost or dislodged corals to the tree, unless damaged

- Record damage amounts, ensuring identification is retained

- Record EVERYTHING using specific location identity codes for each coral

SOLUTIONS FOR RESTORATION, CULTIVATION AND CONSERVATION

THE NURSERIES. Coral fragments are placed on the nursery structures. Maintaining and measuring coral growth. Monitoring is essential.

SOLUTIONS FOR RESTORATION, CULTIVATION AND CONSERVATION

ARTIFICIAL REEFS, FRAGMENTATION AND TRANSPLANTATION OF CORALS

ARTIFICIAL REEF STRUCTURES.

Once the coral fragments in the nurseries have reached 2.0 cm across it is time for them to be fragmented and transplanted onto permanent substrate on the target reef. If possible, natural substrate should be used, however a lack of suitable substrate is often a factor preventing natural recovery and recruitment of hard coral in a degraded reef. If necessary, artificial structures should be constructed and installed in the restoration area.

These are man made structures and are installed near or on reefs or sometimes are used to create entirely new reefs. On a smaller scale, purpose built structures are made using materials such as metal rebar or concrete blocks. In my opinion I have been looking for a solution which is more ecofriendly and naturally.

Artificial reefs can be deployed and left to be colonized naturally or the process can be accleretad by attaching coral fragments to the structure, allowing them to attach a nd create new colonies.

NATURAL SUBSTRATE.

- If there are stable (unmovable) areas of bare substrate – either rock or dead coral colonies – they can be used as a substrate to plant on.

- Either use notches to push the healthy fragments of coral into (e.g., if there are no crossing holes, make some with a chisel and hammer).

- You can then secure the fragment with epoxy or glue if necessary.

CONSERVATION FOR THE CORAL REEFS

CONCRETE STRUCTURES – Epoxy

Attachment

MARS Blocks – Gradient: Steep

Metal Frame Structures – Cable-tie

Attachment

BOX – Gradient: Shallow

TRIANGLE – Gradient: Steep

SPORRE – Gradient: Moderate

CORAL FRAGMENTATION.

When a coral is broken into fragments the colony puts energy into healing (regeneration of soft tissue), this results in a significantly increased rate of calcium carbonate production. Coral fragmentation is commonly used to grow corals for restoration because it increases the coral’s natural growth rate and hardiness. Fragments should be taken from pieces of coral growing in coral nurseries and NEVER from live corals on the reef. The fragments should be removed prior to planting if possible to avoid cold or growth shock.

CORAL TRANSPLANTATION.

Coral fragments MUST be moved to a location with similar conditions to the area where they have been grown. Nurseries should be in or adjacent to the target restoration site so local conditions will be consistent when transplants are made. When transplanting coral fragments, the most critical factor is water depth – the primary variable for consideration. The range of depth each coral species can live in must be matched with any variation depending on the species and the conditions of the site, including turbidity, light levels, and current.

- Fragments that have come from the same original colony are genetically identical and can therefore be placed close together.

- Growth stress is lower when placed with another from the same colony.

- However, it is better to use coral fragments from the same colony in one area, rather than mixing too many fragments from different colonies and introducing unnecessary risk.

- Corals are usually planted together to allow them to grow into an entire colony. Try to plant coral species together when they form the same colony structure.

Healthy fragments can also be used to repair species colonies observed in the reference site:

- If you see a dead area within a colony, replace that space if possible with a fragment from the same species.

- You may even encourage the dead area to regrow on its own by leaving space.

Record EVERYTHING using specific location identity codes for each coral and each artificial reef structure.

EPOXY ATTACHMENT.

- Mix the epoxy and apply to both the rock and the base of the coral

- Press the coral into the epoxy and hold for a few seconds while it hardens

CABLE TIE ATTACHMENT.

-Thread the cable tie through the coral base and secure tightly to the metal frame

- With a chisel, notch into the rock or natural substrate

- Fit the coral and secure with epoxy or glue if needed

SOLUTIONS FOR RESTORATION, CULTIVATION AND CONSERVATION

THE ARTIFICIAL REEF STRUCTURES

Coral fragments are placed on the artificial substrates. Maintaining and measuring coral growth. Monitoring is essential.

LOCATION

LOCATION

Ka lae

honolulu

Allow me to take you to a remote and isolated island archipelago in the midst of the Pacific Ocean: Hawai‘i. While many may know it as a tropical paradise—synonymous with surfing, Waikiki, and Honolulu—I invite you to journey further, to the southernmost point of the youngest island in the Hawaiian chain, known as the Island of Hawai‘i, or more commonly, the Big Island. Specifically, to a place called Ka Lae.

HISTORICAL CONTEXT

The story of the first Hawaiians’ arrival is one of extraordinary seafaring, deep ancestral knowledge, and spiritual navigation across the vast Pacific Ocean.

Around 1,000 to 1,200 CE, Polynesian voyagers— from the Marquesas —embarked on long-distance journeys aboard doublehulled canoes (wa‘a kaulua), guided not by compasses or maps, but by the stars, ocean swells, winds, bird flight patterns, and subtle changes in cloud formations. This traditional form of non-instrument navigation is called wayfinding.

According to oral histories and mo‘olelo (stories), the first settlers reached the Hawaiian Islands after navigating thousands of kilometers of open ocean, driven by both necessity and a deep curiosity for what lay beyond the horizon. These voyages were not accidental drifts, but purposeful expeditions guided by expert navigators and sustained by a reciprocal relationship with the natural world.

Upon their arrival on Ka Lae, the youngest island of the Hawaiian archipello, the first Hawaiians encountered rich, uninhabited lands and abundant marine ecosystems. They brought with them canoe plants— staples like kalo (taro), ‘ulu (breadfruit), and sweet potato—as well as animals such as pigs and chickens, carefully establishing systems of sustainable agriculture and aquaculture. Their arrival marked the beginning of a unique culture deeply rooted in malama ‘aina—love and respect for the land—and kuleana—a sense of responsibility to care for it.

Mokupuni

CULTURE.

The Indigenous culture of Hawai’i is deeply rooted in an ethic of environmental stewardship, grounded in ancestral cosmology, genealogical consciousness, and sophisticated land management systems. Central to this worldview is the Kumulipo, a sacred Hawaiian creation chant that not only recounts the origins of the universe and life but also affirms the interrelatedness of all beings and the human obligation to care for the earth (a’ina).

CULTURE | KUMULIPO

The Kumulipo is a foundational Hawaiian cosmogonic and genealogical chant that encapsulates the Indigenous worldview of interconnectedness between humans, nature, and the divine. Comprising over 2,000 lines, the chant narrates the sequential emergence of life—from the primordial darkness (po) to light (ao), from marine organisms, where the coral polyp is the beginning, to the land creatures, and ultimately to humans—establishing a sacred genealogy that situates human beings as the younger kin of the natural world. Composed for chiefly lineages, the Kumulipo affirms the divine origin of ali’i (chiefs) and legitimizes their stewardship over land and people. Beyond its ceremonial and political function, the Kumulipo expresses a deeply ecological ethic: by tracing all life to a common ancestral source, it reinforces the Hawaiian principle of malama a’ina, the responsibility to care for the land. As such, the Kumulipo is not merely a chant of origins, but a cultural charter for environmental and spiritual balance from mountain to sea (mauka to makai).

This philosophical foundation translated into practical modes of living that emphasized ecological balance, sustainability, and reverence for place. The principle of malama aina— caring for the land so that it, in turn, can sustain life—was enacted through daily practices, seasonal rhythms, and social governance structures. For example, the Hawaiian lunar calendar dictated fishing and farming activities according to the cycles of the moon, ensuring periods of rest and regeneration for marine and agricultural ecosystems.

CULTURE | KUMULIPO

KA WA AKAHI CHANT ONE

O ke au i kahuli wela ka honua

At the time when the earth became hot

O ke au i kahuli lole ka lani

At the time when the heavens turned about

O ke au i kuka‘iaka ka la

At the time when the sun was darkened

E ho‘omalamalama i ka malama

To cause the moon to shine

O ke au o Makali‘i ka po

The time of the rise of the Pleiades

O ka walewale ho‘okumu honua ia

The slime, this was the source of the earth

O ke kumu o ka lipo, i lipo ai

The source of the darkness that made darkness

O ke kumu o ka Po, i po ai

The source of the night that made night

O ka lipolipo, o ka lipolipo

The intense darkness, the deep darkness

O ka lipo o ka la, o ka lipo o ka po

Darkness of the sun, darkness of the night

Po wale ho--‘i

Nothing but night

Hanau ka po

The night gave birth

Hanau Kumulipo i ka po, he kane

Born was Kumulipo in the night, a male

Hanau Po‘ele i ka po, he wahine

Born was Po‘ele in the night, a female

Hanau ka ‘Uku-ko‘ako‘a, hanau kana, he ‘Ako‘ako‘a, puka

Born was the coral polyp, born was the coral, came forth

Hanau ke Ko‘e-enuhe ‘eli ho‘opu‘u honua

Born was the grub that digs and heaps up the earth, came forth

Hanau kana, he Ko‘e, puka

Born was his [child] an earthworm, came forth

Hanau ka Pe‘a, ka Pe‘ape‘a kana keiki puka

Born was the starfish, his child the small starfish came forth

Hanau ka Weli, he Weliweli kana keiki, puka

Born was the sea cucumber, his child the small sea cucumber came forth

Hanau ka ‘Ina, ka ‘Ina

Born was the sea urchin, the sea urchin [tribe]

Hanau kana, he Halula, puka

Born was the short-spiked sea urchin, came forth

Hanau ka Hawa‘e, o ka Wana-ku kana keiki, puka

Born was the smooth sea urchin, his child the long-spiked came forth

Hanau ka Ha‘uke‘uke, o ka ‘Uhalula kana keiki, puka

Hanau ka Pi‘oe, o ka Pipi kana keiki, puka

Born was the barnacle, his child the pearl oyster came forth

Hanau ka Papaua, o ka ‘Olepe kana keiki, puka

Born was the mother-of-pearl, his child the oyster came forth

Hanau ka Nahawele, o ka Unauna kana keiki, puka

Born was the mussel, his child the hermit crab came forth

Hanau ka Makaiauli, o ka ‘Opihi kana keiki, puka

Born was the big limpet, his child the small limpet came forth

Hanau ka Leho, o ka Puleholeho kana keiki, puka

Born was the cowry, his child the small cowry came forth

Hanau ka Naka, o ke Kupekala kana keiki, puka

Born was the naka shellfish, the rock oyster his child came forth

Hanau ka Makaloa, o ka Pupu‘awa kana keiki, puka

Born was the drupa shellfish, his child the bitter white shell fish came forth

Hanau ka ‘Ole, o ka ‘Ole‘ole kana keiki, puka

Born was the conch shell, his child the small conch shell came forth

Hanau ka Pipipi, o ke Kupe‘e kana keiki, puka

Born was the nerita shellfish, the sand-burrowing shellfish his child came forth

Hanau ka Wi, o ke Kiki kana keiki, puka

Born was the fresh water shellfish, his child the small fresh water shellfish came forth

Hanau kane ia Wai‘ololi, o ka wahine ia Wai‘olola

Born was man for the narrow stream, the woman for the broad stream

Hanau ka Ekaha noho i kai

Born was the Ekaha moss living in the sea

Kia‘i ia e ka Ekahakaha noho i uka

Guarded by the Ekahakaha fern living on land

He po uhe‘e i ka wawa

Darkness slips into light

He nuku, he wai ka ‘ai a ka la‘au

Earth and water are the food of the plant

O ke Akua ke komo, ‘a‘oe komo kanaka

The god enters, man can not enter

O kane ia Wai‘ololi, o ka wahine ia Wai‘olola

Man for the narrow stream, woman for the broad stream

Hanau ka ‘Aki‘aki noho i kai

Born was the tough seagrass living in the sea

Kia‘i ia e ka Manienie-‘aki‘aki noho i uka

Guarded by the tough landgrass living on land

He po uhe‘e i ka wawa

Darkness slips into light

He nuku, he wai ka ‘ai a ka la‘au

Earth and water are the food of the plant

O ke Akua ke komo, ‘a‘oe komo kanaka

The god enters, man can not enter

O kane ia Wai‘ololi, o ka wahine ia Wai‘olola

Man for the narrow stream, woman for the broad stream

Hanau ka ‘A‘ala‘ula noho i kai

Born was the ‘Ala‘ala moss living in the sea

Kia‘i ia e ka ‘Ala‘ala-wai-nui noho i uka

Guarded by the ‘Ala‘ala mint living on land

He po uhe‘e i ka wawa

Darkness slips into light

He nuku, he wai ka ‘ai a ka la‘au

Earth and water are the food of the plant

O ke Akua ke komo, ‘a‘oe komo kanaka

The god enters, man can not enter

O kane ia Wai‘ololi, o ka wahine ia Wai‘olola

Man for the narrow stream, woman for the broad stream

Hanau ka Manauea noho i kai

Born was the Manauea moss living in the sea

Kia‘i ia e ke Kalo-manauea noho i uka

Guarded by the Manauea taro plant living on land

He po uhe‘e i ka wawa

Darkness slips into light

He nuku, he wai ka ‘ai a ka la‘au

Earth and water are the food of the plant

O ke Akua ke komo, ‘a‘oe komo kanaka

The god enters, man can not enter

O kane, ia Wai‘ololi, o ka wahine ia Wai‘olola

Man for the narrow stream, woman for the broad stream

Hanau ke Ko‘ele‘ele noho i kai

Born was the Ko‘ele seaweed living in the sea

Kia‘i ia e ke ko Punapuna, ko ‘ele‘ele, noho i uka

Guarded by the long-jointed sugarcane, the ko ‘ele‘ele, living on land

He po uhe‘e i ka wawa

Darkness slips into light

He nuku, he wai ka ‘ai a ka la‘au

Earth and water are the food of the plant

CULTURE | KUMULIPO

O ke Akua ke komo, ‘a‘oe komo kanaka

The god enters, man can not enter

O kane ia Wai‘ololi, o ka wahine ia Wai‘olola

Man for the narrow stream, woman for the broad stream

Hanau ka Puaki noho i kai

Born was the Puaki seaweed living in the sea

Kia‘i ia e ka Lauaki noho i uka

Guarded by the Akiaki rush living on land

He po uhe‘e i ka wawa

Darkness slips into light

He nuku, he wai ka ‘ai a ka la‘au

Earth and water are the food of the plant

O ke Akua ke komo, ‘a‘oe komo kanaka

The god enters, man can not enter

O kane ia Wai‘ololi, o ka wahine ia Wai‘olola

Man for the narrow stream, woman for the broad stream

Hanau ka Kakalamoa noho i kai

Born was the Kakalamoa living in the sea

Kia‘i ia e ka Moamoa noho i uka

Guarded by the moamoa plant living on land

He po uhe‘e i ka wawa

Darkness slips into light

He nuku, he wai ka ‘ai a ka la‘au

Earth and water are the food of the plant

O ke Akua ke komo, ‘a‘oe komo kanaka

The god enters, man can not enter

O kane ia Wai‘ololi, o ka wahine ia Wai‘olola

Man for the narrow stream, woman for the broad stream

Hanau ka limu Kele noho i kai

Born was the Kele seaweed living in the sea

Kia‘i ia e ka Ekele noho i uka

Guarded by the Ekele plant living on land

Darkness slips into light

He nuku, he wai ka ‘ai a ka la‘au

Earth and water are the food of the plant

O ke Akua ke komo, ‘a‘oe komo kanaka

The god enters, man can not enter

O kane ia Wai‘ololi, o ka wahine ia Wai‘olola

Man for the narrow stream, woman for the broad stream

Hanau ka limu Kala noho i kai

Born was the Kala seaweed living in the sea

Kia‘i ia e ka ‘Akala noho i uka

Guarded by the ‘Akala vine living on land

He po uhe‘e i ka wawa

Darkness slips into light

He nuku, he wai ka ‘ai a ka la‘au

Earth and water are the food of the plant

O ke Akua ke komo, ‘a‘oe komo kanaka

The god enters, man can not enter

O kane ia Wai‘ololi, o ka wahine ia Wai‘olola

Man for the narrow stream, woman for the broad stream

Hanau ka Lipu‘upu‘u noho i kai

Born was the Lipu‘upu‘u living in the sea

Kia‘i ia e ka Lipu‘u, noho i uka

Guarded by the Lipu‘u living on land

He po uhe‘e i ka wawa

Darkness slips into light

He nuku, he wai ka ‘ai a ka la‘au

Earth and water are the food of the plant

O ke Akua ke komo, ‘a‘oe komo kanaka

The god enters, man can not enter

O kane ia Wai‘ololi, o ka wahine ia Wai‘olola

Man for the narrow stream, woman for the broad stream

Hanau ka Loloa, noho i kai

Born was the Long-one living at sea

He po uhe‘e i ka wawa

Kia‘i ia e ka Kalamaloloa, noho i uka

Guarded by the Long-torch living on land

He po uhe‘e i ka wawa

Darkness slips into light

He nuku, he wai ka ‘ai a ka la‘au

Earth and water are the food of the plant

O ke Akua ke komo, ‘a‘oe komo kanaka

The god enters, man can not enter

O kane ia Wai‘ololi, o ka wahine ia Wai‘olola

Man for the narrow stream, woman for the broad stream

Hanau ka Ne, noho i kai

Born was the Ne seaweed living in the sea

Kia‘i ia e ka Neneleau noho i uka

Guarded by the Neneleau [sumach] living on land

He po uhe‘e i ka wawa

Darkness slips into light

He nuku, he wai ka ‘ai a ka la‘au

Earth and water are the food of the plant

O ke Akua ke komo, ‘a‘oe komo kanaka

The god enters, man can not enter

O kane ia Wai‘ololi, o ka wahine ia Wai‘olola

Man for the narrow stream, woman for the broad stream

Hanau ka Huluwaena, noho i kai

Born was the hairy seaweed living in the sea

Kia‘i ia e ka Huluhulu-‘ie‘ie noho i uka

Guarded by the hairy pandanus vine living on land

He po uhe‘e i ka wawa

Darkness slips into light

He nuku, he wai ka ‘ai a ka la‘au

Earth and water are the food of the plant

O ke Akua ke komo, ‘a‘oe komo kanaka

The god enters, man can not enter

O ke kane huawai, Akua kena

The man with the water gourd, he is a god

O kalina a ka wai i ho‘oulu ai

Water that causes the withered vine to flourish

O ka huli ho‘okawowo honua

Causes the plant top to develop freely

O paia [‘a] i ke auau ka manawa

Multiplying in the passing time

O he‘e au loloa ka po

The long night slips along

O piha, o pihapiha

Fruitful, very fruitful

O piha-u, o piha-a

Spreading here, spreading there

O piha-e, o piha-o

Spreading this way, spreading that way

O ke ko‘o honua pa‘a ka lani

Propping up earth, holding up the sky

O lewa ke au, ia Kumulipo ka po

The time passes, this night of Kumulipo

Po--no

Still it is night

A central component of this environmental stewardship was the ahupua’a system founded around 1500. —a traditional land sub-division model that organized territory from mountain to sea (mauka to makai) with four hierarchical levels: Mokupuni (the island), Moku (larges subdivision of one island), ahupua’a’s (smaller subdivisions within the moku) and the Ili (two or three per ahupua’a. Each ahupua’a typically encompassed an entire watershed and included upland forests (wao akua), agricultural fields (wao kanaka), and coastal or marine areas (kai). Managed collectively under the guidance of ali’i (chiefs) and konohiki (land stewards), the system ensured the equitable distribution of resources and their sustainable use.

The mauka to makai orientation was more than spatial; it reflected a deeply ethical and spiritual mandate. The health of the ocean was seen as directly dependent on the health of the mountains, and vice versa. Cutting trees irresponsibly in upland forests could lead to sediment runoff and damage coral reefs; overfishing in the sea could disrupt the broader ecosystem. Thus, individuals and communities bore a reciprocal responsibility to care for the entire ecological continuum. Stewardship was not confined to one zone, but demanded awareness and accountability across the whole interconnected system.

These land-based practices were not merely utilitarian but spiritual, ritualistic, and deeply embedded in cultural identity. Ceremonies marked planting and harvesting; offerings were made to deities associated with rain, fertility, and the ocean; and chants preserved ecological knowledge across generations. The Kumulipo thus served not only as a genealogy but as an environmental charter—affirming that care for the land was inseparable from care for self, community, and the divine.

In sum, Native Hawaiian culture cultivated an intricate and holistic relationship with the natural world—one guided by cosmological understanding, genealogical reverence, and practical wisdom. The Kumulipo, as both chant and charter, anchored this worldview and legitimized a socio-ecological system that prioritized balance, reciprocity, and enduring kinship with the land from mauka to makai.

Ahupua’a

CULTURE | TODAY AND THE FUTURE

THE GREAT MAHELE. The traditional ahupua‘a system of land tenure in Hawai‘i, which organized land management from mountain to sea (mauka to makai), remained in place until 1848, when the Kingdom of Hawai‘i enacted the Great Mahele. This pivotal legal reform transitioned the land tenure system from a communal stewardship model to a Western-style system of private property ownership (fee simple). The introduction of privatized landholding profoundly altered the social and ecological landscape of Hawai‘i, gradually giving rise to urbanization, infrastructure expansion, and extractive land use practices. Over time, these changes contributed to environmental degradation, particularly in coastal and marine ecosystems. Since at least 1996, climate-related shifts—such as rising sea temperatures, ocean acidification, and altered rainfall patterns—have increasingly affected the entire ecological continuum from mauka to makai. Coral reef systems, in particular, have experienced significant decline, with cascading effects on biodiversity, subsistence practices, local economies, and the broader ecological integrity of the islands.

ANTROPOCENE. The Anthropocene-driven urban development of the mokupuni (island) of Hawai‘i has, over time, exerted significant pressure on its natural environment, particularly its coral reef ecosystems. The historically sustainable land management system—organized through communal stewardship and spatial division via the ahupua‘a framework—gradually disappeared following the shift to private land ownership. This transformation, combined with anthropogenic climate change and global warming, has accelerated the degradation of marine biodiversity, leading to the disappearance of numerous reef species. Notably, mass coral bleaching events in 2013–2015 and again in 2019 severely disrupted the ecological balance of Hawai‘i’s coastal waters. With projections indicating the potential loss of all coral reefs in Hawai‘i within the next 50 years, the island faces heightened risks of coastal flooding, erosion, and the collapse of ecosystem services, with cascading effects on ecological, cultural, and socio-economic systems.

The Great Mahele till today 1848 - now decreasing reef hawaiian homeland

LANDSCAPE STUDIES OF KA LAE

KA LAE.

Situated at the southernmost point of the Island of Hawai‘i, Ka Lae represents both a geographic extremity and a dynamic geological frontier. The island itself is the youngest in the Hawaiian archipelago and remains in an active state of formation due to ongoing volcanic activity. Its landmass is composed of successive lava flows primarily from three major volcanoes—Mauna Loa, Mauna Kea, and Kilauea. In proximity to Ka Lae, the submarine volcano Lo‘ihi continues to build beneath the ocean surface, contributing to the island’s expansion and underscoring the temporal scale of geologic processes still in motion.

The landscape of Ka Lae is characterized by an austere openness: a terrain of exposed lava rock minimally colonized by grasses and low-lying vegetation. This site is marked by its extreme wind exposure, due to its orientation at the convergence of trade wind pathways. From the open plains, the volcanic summit of Kilauea is often visible, linking the area visually and geologically to the island’s broader volcanic system. The region is also influenced by the island’s complex

microclimates, resulting in rapid and perceptible ecological changes; vegetation such as grasses can shift in hue and density within days in response to rainfall and wind variation, exemplifying the island’s climateresponsive ecosystems.

Along the southern coast, Ka Lae is bordered by a dramatic escarpment—cliffs reaching up to 80 meters in height stretch across a three-kilometer shoreline. These cliffs descend sharply into the Pacific Ocean, where powerful oceanic currents, including the Hakeke current, create hazardous maritime conditions and contribute to the area’s dynamic coastal morphology.

The deep ocean here is both a boundary and a generative force, shaping and eroding the coastline while linking the island to larger Pacific systems. As such, Ka Lae functions not merely as a physical landmark but as an active interface between volcanic, climatic, and oceanic forces.

Building on vulcanic sediment in a context with a lot of wind is taken into consideration as inspiration into my design proces.

Map of different vulcano formations on Ka Lae

Kahuku Basalt Kau Basalt Tephra Deposits

LANDSCAPE AND OCEAN STUDIES OF KA LAE

Ka Lae, South Point, Island Of Hawai’i, Hawai’i, United States of America (2023)

The exposed landscape

LANDSCAPE AND OCEAN STUDIES OF KA LAE

the grass

ocean weathering

geomorphology

the sand

existing life

the ocean surface

cliffs of Ka Lae

the seabed

PROBLEM STATEMENT | KA LAE

Main bleaching events have passed in 1996, 2002, 2004, 2014-2015 en 2019. Which affected a huge amount of coral. In 2019, the average bleaching rate among the surveyed coral species on the Island of Hawai‘i was 56%, making it the island with the highest recorded coral loss following the bleaching events.

Mean Bleaching Prevalence 41-60%

The estimated percentage of coral loss along the coastline in this region is between 10% and 15%.

Ka Lae is part of NOAA’s designated priority area for urgent coral restoration.

S BETWEEN 1996 - 2019.

BETWEEN 1996 - 2019.

% Coastal Area Lost - 2019 : 15/10%

% Coastal Area Lost - 2019 : 15/10%

NOAA’s priority for recovery area’s.

NOAA’s priority for recovery area’s.

EXISTING CORAL TYPOLOGIES

)

Pocillopora Meandrina (Cauliflower Coral)

Montipora Capitala (Rice Coral)

Thick Finger Coral

Montipora Fiabellata

Pontes Evermanni (Pohaku Puno)

Porites compressa (Pohaku Puna

Pocillopora Grandis

Serpetine Cup Coral

Montipora Dillata (Irregular Rice Coral)

Monti Paluta (Ringed Rice Coral)

Ceptoseris Hawaiianis (Hawaiian Plate Coral)

Porites Lobata

EXISTING CORAL TYPOLOGIES AND THEIR PARAMETERS

Montipora flabellata

MASSIVE OR THICK COLONIES HARD YELLOW, GREEN, BROWN, PURVLE ROUND

Favia lichen NON-ACROPORA MASSIVE OR THICK COLONIES HARD GREEN, BROWN, YELLOW, GREY, PURPLE

Favia truncata NON-ACROPORA MASSIVE OR THICK COLONIES HARD

WIND. The avarage windspeed on Ka Lae is 16-40 km/u

highspeed on 30 meters

highspeed on 50 meters

highspeed on 70 meters

highspeed on 100 meters

WAVES. The general wave direction at Ka Lae is Southeast and can range from 1 to 3 meters high.

RESEARCHING CONTEXTUAL PARAMETERS

THE CURRENT. The current system is complex and influenced by multiple interacting flows. Ka Lae is primarily known for the ‘Halaea Current,’ a powerful westward current notorious for pulling individuals out to sea. The dominant oceanic current affecting the Hawaiian archipelago generally moves in a northwesterly direction, shaped by the motion of the Pacific Plate.

TURBIDITY. On average, turbidity at Ka Lae is minimal. This is due to the strong currents in the area. low medium severe extreme

THE REEF. The existing reef is mostly wrapped around the eastern side because of the movement of the ocean waves and current. After the corner on the west side of Ka Lae the reefs are dissapearing.

THE SEABED. The seabed has a bottom that slopes from medium to flat, but after about 100 meters it slopes steeply.

Reef slope

Sheltered reef slope

Reef crest

Outer reef flat

Inner reef flat

Terrestrial reef flat

Plate

Small reef

Back reef slope

THE BENTHIC LAYERS. The benthic layers on Ka Lae are containing mostly rock, sand and rubble from dead coral.

koraal / algen

zeegras

micro-algen matten

steen

koraal puin zand

he ocean depth at Ka Lae descends immediately from the cliffs to approximately 10 to 18 meters. It then gradually slopes down to a depth of 100 meters, after which it drops off steeply, reaching depths of over 2,000 meters.

POTENTIAL SOLUTION FOR KA LAE

essential questions to ask to conclude to restore the reef on this location.

Have coral colonies previously existed in this area?

Yes. This is evident from the presence of coral rubble on the seafloor and along the shoreline.

What consequences have been caused by the degradation of the coral reef?

Climate change and industrial fishing have been major contributing factors to the degradation of the reef.

Are there any conditions that hinder the natural recovery of the reef?

Natural recovery processes are present, but passive inaction is not a viable option.

Is there a healthy reference site located near the proposed restoration area, with as many comparable environmental conditions as possible?

Yes. Coral composition and reef structure can be recreated as naturally as possible by using a reference site located to the south of West Ka Lae.

Location for the memorial

reef

By overlaying spatial parameters, we can conclude that the westernmost point of Ka Lae is the appropriate location for the Reef of Remembrance. Given that the salinity at Ka Lae is 3.5% and the water temperature is 26 degrees Celsius—conditions suitable for tropical corals—this site holds strong potential. However, broader climatic factors cannot be addressed on a large scale, which justifies the choice for a localized intervention.

ARCHITECTURAL

ARCHITECTURAL CONCEPT

What strategies can be employed to effectively raise public awareness and foster long-term stewardship of coral reef ecosystems?

In what ways can human intervention contribute meaningfully to the restoration and resilience of coral reefs?

How can architectural interventions be designed and implemented at an ecological scale to support and enhance marine biodiversity in reef-adjacent environments?

A ritual route through which we bid farewell to our departed loved ones and give back to the reefs of Ka Lae, in order to foster the creation of new sacred life beneath the ocean’s surface and reflects on land.

SACRED SITES

WHAT ARE SACRED SITES

Description of a sancturary.

A protected or a safe space for humans, animals, plants. It’s considered to be holy and deserves respect, mostely related to a connection with a higher power.

What does a sacred space mean to me?

Today, contemporary as historical sacred architecture instills emotion and thought and transedence. It requires of its users an involvement and inclusion in daily practice or ritual. In the opposite sense, sacred architecture emits or transmits emotion to its users: it, in a way, is in direct dialogue with one or with every user. It should speak to them and be comforting, yet in different, personal ways.

What could a sacred space signify in relation to a coral reef?

Natural santurary as a simple case of grounding what allows for a re-orentation and removal, a small intimate sancturary that can serve as a temporary releas from ones condition. Or artifical sancturary due the lack of natural connection in todays reality, this could create a connection. Superficial connection and relation to reefs appears in contemporary constructions in effort to bring back the coral reefs into the environment.

Sacred

Space at the Intersection of Architecture and Nature.

The notion of sacred space occupies a central place in both architectural discourse and Indigenous understandings of landscape. Within the built environment, sacred space refers not only to religious or ceremonial structures, but to any spatial condition that evokes a sense of transcendence, reverence, or deep presence. In the context of nature and architecture, sacredness emerges through a sensitive alignment between material, place, ritual, and human experience.

Chruch of Light, Tadao Osaka, Japan

Pastoor van Ars kerk, Aldo van Eijk, 1969 Den Haag, Netherlands

Stonehenge monument, -, 3000 and 1520 BCE, Salisbury Plain, England

In architectural practice, sacred space is often characterized by deliberate use of light, proportion, materiality, silence, and spatial sequencing to facilitate reflection, connection, and transformation. Architect Peter Zumthor, for instance, describes sacred spaces as those that “envelop the visitor,” creating a sensory environment that encourages inward experience. Similarly, Tadao Ando employs concrete, light, and emptiness to cultivate moments of stillness and contemplation, allowing architecture to act as a threshold between the physical and the spiritual.

Beyond the realm of formal architecture, sacred space is deeply rooted in Indigenous and place-based cosmologies. In many Indigenous cultures, including Native Hawaiian traditions, specific sites in the landscape are regarded as wahi pana— storied and sacred places imbued with ancestral memory, spiritual power (mana), and ecological significance. These spaces are not defined by construction, but by relationship, history, and ritual. The landscape itself becomes the sacred

architecture, often requiring only minimal or symbolic human intervention. Contemporary architectural practice that seeks to engage with sacred space must therefore move beyond aesthetics or symbolism and toward an ethic of reciprocity and ecological sensitivity. Architects such as Glenn Murcutt emphasize designing in harmony with the environment, using local materials and responding to climatic and cultural contexts to produce spaces that resonate with their surroundings.

When architecture and nature converge in the creation of sacred space—such as along a ritual route that honors the dead and gives back to the ocean, as in the case of Ka Lae, Hawai‘i—the result is more than a structure. It becomes an embodied offering, a gesture that acknowledges loss, facilitates healing, and contributes to the regeneration of life. Such spaces serve not only as sites of memory, but as living systems that bridge the human, the ecological, and the spiritual.

Ando. 1989. Bruder Klaus Field Chapel Peter Zumthor. 2008, Germany

Rothko Chapel, Howard Barnstone, Gene Aubry, Philip Johnson, Eugene E. Aubry, 1971, Houston TX, US

WHAT ARE SACRED SITES

Le Corbusier - “Light is the key to well-being. A return to the silence within oneself to find the secred that is in every being, the great void, unlimited, which our notion of sacredness does or does not live.”

Louis Kahn - “Architecture appears for the first time when the sunlight hits a wall, but natural light’s presence and power, particularly in the experience of sacred spaces, is enhanced by its opposite: darkness. The two work in tandem, like graceful dancers, circling a room.”

Tadao Ando - “I don’t believe architecture has to speak too much. It should remain silent and let nature in the guise of sunlight, water and wind. I hope to achieve simplicity, but I also hope to achieve depth … I believe it is important that architecture should be a space where you feel spiritually empowered and connect with nature.”

LOCAL SACRED SITES ON THE ISLAND OF HAWAI’I

Maunakea. A shrine for worship, as a home to the gods, and as the piko of Hawai’i Island. Home of first goddes of Hawaii, Pele.

Sacred sites in Hawai’i are very common to be related to nature and the godes of the cosmopolitic environement. A lot of sacred spaces reffer to the kumulipo and are build with lava rocks.

Pu’ukohola Heiau Sacrificial temple for the first human sacrifice.

Pelekane Beach

Sacred monument to Hawaii’s shark god.

Human sacrafice and place where priesters communicaties with their gods and anceistors.

Pu’uhonua o Honaunau

Ancient warriors, war victims and those who broke the law used to seek refuge at this sacred place, which includes houses, ancient fishponds and a heiau.

Ku’emanu Heaiu Temple dedicated for surfing.

Mo’okini Heiau

SENCES AND SPACE

SENSING SPACE.

Abstract

Exploring the role of the senses in experiencing space, particularly within landscapes and sacred environments. It argues that architecture, when attuned to sensory perception, can foster deeper emotional, ecological, and spiritual engagement. Through a phenomenological and ecological lens, the text examines how space becomes meaningful not solely through visual form, but through embodied, multisensory interaction with place. Drawing on architectural theory, Indigenous knowledge systems, and landscape studies, it proposes that sacred space arises through the convergence of sensory awareness, environmental context, and cultural ritual.

Beyond the Visual Architecture has long been understood primarily through the visual register—plans, elevations, and representations dominate both education and practice. Yet, the experience of architecture is never purely visual. We inhabit architecture with our entire bodies: we move through it, hear its echoes, feel its textures, breathe its atmospheres. Architecture is sensed. It exists not only as form and material, but as temperature, acoustics, scent, tactility, and orientation within a larger environmental system.

The sensory dimension of space is especially critical when considering landscape and sacred space, where environmental conditions and cultural meanings intensify the spatial encounter. In these contexts, perception is not passive. It is active, embodied, and reciprocal, rooted in both individual memory and collective experience.

MULTISENSORY SPACE. Feeling Architecture

To feel architecture is to go beyond surface.

Each sense contributes uniquely to spatial understanding:

- Touch, enables us to feel textures, temperatures, and the weight of materials. A sun-warmed stone wall, a cool floor beneath bare feet, or the roughness of carved wood carries emotional and symbolic charge. Sound shapes spatial awareness. The way a breeze rustles through leaves, the echo of footsteps in a vaulted hall, or the muffled silence landscape conveys the depth, scale, and character of place.

- Smell, often neglected in architectural discourse, is deeply tied to memory and emotion. The scent of ocean salt, rain on dry earth can immediately situate us in time and place.

- Sight, while dominant, is transformed by light, shadow, reflection, and movement. The visual field is dynamic, filtered through weather, time of day, and perspective.

- Taste, though rarely invoked, becomes relevant in cultural and ritual contexts— particularly where space intersects with food, ceremony, or the elements themselves.

Architecture that engages the senses becomes immersive rather than merely representational.

LANDSCAPE AS A SENSORY FIELD.

In the open, living medium of landscape, sensory architecture takes on a wider scope. The terrain is not neutral; it is textured by geology, wind, vegetation, wildlife, and history. Landscape is spatial, temporal, and sensorial. Walking across a field of volcanic rock, hearing the cry of seabirds, or standing in a grove where ancestors once gathered— these experiences root us in place through sensorial memory and cultural continuity.

Hawaiian idigenous ontologies often do not separate body, land, and spirit; rather, they conceive of space as alive, relational, and storied. In Hawaiian thought, for example, the land (aina) feeds not only the body, but the soul, and certain spaces (wahi pana) are revered through sensory protocols of chant, offering, and physical conduct.

Designing in and with the landscape thus requires not only ecological awareness, but sensorial humility—a willingness to listen, to wait, and to design in rhythm with the site.

SACRED SPACE AND RITUAL PERCEPTION.

Sacred space can be understood as a heightened state of environmental and cultural awareness—a place where sensory experience becomes ritualized. Whether in a cathedral, a burial ground, a forest shrine, or a coral reef restoration site, sacred space is marked not solely by symbolic architecture but by how it feels, how it sounds, and how it invites the body to move or be still.

In sacred architecture, orientation and procession often guide sensory engagement. A path may lead the visitor through thresholds of increasing quietness, darkness, or openness. The materials may carry sacred connotations (rock, water, ash, coral), and the design may frame views of the sky, the vulcano, the horizon, or the sea. Sacredness is created not only by cultural meaning, but by the calibrated invitation to perception.

Here, the senses are not ornamental—they are vehicles of transformation. By engaging the senses, sacred space invites individuals to connect with something greater than themselves: ancestors, deities, the natural world, or the passage of time.

DESIGNING WITH THE SENSES: TOWARD AN ECOLOGICAL AESTHETIC.

In an era of ecological degradation and sensory overload, re-engaging the senses in architectural and landscape practice is both an aesthetic and ethical act. Sensory design encourages slowness, attention, and reciprocity—qualities essential to sustainable and respectful interaction with the environment.

Emerging practices in eco-ritual architecture, memorial landscapes, and restorative ecologies point to new ways of designing spaces that heal, remember, and regenerate. Projects that honor death, support biodiversity, or frame encounters with the non-human world are often deeply sensory. They do not shout; they whisper. Their power lies in atmosphere, material honesty, and invitation rather than instruction.

To design with the senses is to make space not only for people, but with the land, the ocean, with memory, and with time.

CONCLUSION.

The experience of architecture is never disembodied. It is felt through the skin, the breath, the bones, and the senses. Sacredness, too, is not a static quality, but an emergent condition born from meaningful interaction between body, space, and environment. By recognizing the role of sensory perception in shaping spatial experience—especially in landscapes and sacred contexts—architects and designers can foster deeper, more embodied relationships with place.

Ultimately, sensing space is not only about how we perceive architecture, but about how space can help us perceive ourselves in relation to the world—ecologically, culturally, and spiritually.

At the time when the earth became hot

To cause the moon to shine

The slime, this was the source of the earth

Darkness of the sun, darkness of the night

At the time when the heavens turned about

To cause the moon to shine

The source of the night that made night nothing but the night

The source of the night that made night

Born was Kumulipo in the night, a male Born was Po‘ele in the night, a female

At the time when the sun was darkened

The time of the rise of the Pleiades

The night gave birth

To cause the moon to shine

The time of the rise of the Pleiades

The intense darkness, the deep darkness

THE DESIGN

APPROACH

THE DESIGN APPROACH

This project proposes a ritual path—an architectural gesture shaped by grief, memory, and ecological renewal. Inspired by the rhythms of the Kumulipo, the Hawaiian creation chant, the route unfolds as a spatial poem, where land and sea, body and coral, death and regeneration are intimately entwined.

The path leads us through a sensory landscape shaped by wind, water, salt, stone, grass, and silence. Along the way, we are invited to listen, to feel, to release. At the end of the route, the body is not buried,

but given back to the ocean, transformed into an artificial reef that fosters new marine life. In this act of surrender, the human form becomes habitat—mourning becomes renewal.

Architecture here is not monumental, but ritual, ephemeral, and ecological. It is a choreography of transition, shaped by nature and shaped for nature. Through this offering, we reimagine loss not as absence, but as a return to the living systems from which we cam

THE ROUTE OF THE

THE MEMORIAL REEF

ROUTE IN THE LANDSCAPE

ROUTE FRAGMENTS

ROUTE FRAGMENT

01. FROM GRAVEL TO MOWING GRASS

ROUTE FRAGMENT 02. LAVA ROCKS

ROUTE FRAGMENT 03. THE BRIDGE

PART 1. a route to say goodbye to our passed member..

ROUTE FRAGMENT

04. THE CHAPEL

ROUTE FRAGMENT

05. THE TRENCH

ROUTE FRAGMENT 06. LAVA STONES

ROUTE FRAGMENTS

ROUTE FRAGMENT

07. MOWING PATH

ROUTE FRAGMENT

08. FROM GRAVEL TO MOWING GRASS

ROUTE FRAGMENT 09. LAVA ROCKS

PART 1. ENDS HERE

1KM. AND 3 HOURS OF CERREMONIAL EXPERIENCE

PART 2. DELIVERY TO THE SEA

ROUTE FRAGMENT 10. THE BRIDGE

ROUTE FRAGMENT 11. THE CHAPEL

ROUTE FRAGMENT 12. THE LAVATUBE

ROUTE FRAGMENTS

ROUTE FRAGMENT

13. THE LAVA STREAM

ROUTE FRAGMENT

14. THE STAIRS

ROUTE FRAGMENT 15. THE OCEAN OBSERVATORY

ROUTE FRAGMENT 16. IN THE CLIFFS

ROUTE FRAGMENT 17. THE STAIRS TO THE MEMORIAL REEF

ROUTE FRAGMENT 18. ALONG THE CLIFFS

ROUTE FRAGMENTS

ROUTE FRAGMENT 19. UP ON THE CLIFFS

ROUTE FRAGMENT 20. TOWARDS THE SOURCE

ROUTE FRAGMENT 21. HIGH GRASSES

ROUTE FRAGMENT

22. THE CURRENT

PART 2. DELIVERY TO THE SEA 3KM. AND 3 HOURS OF CERREMONIAL EXPERIENCE

SECTION OF A FRAGMENT OF THE LANDSCAPE AND THE

FROM GRAVEL TO MOWING GRASS

As you walk across Ka Lae, the sharp crunch of lava gravel gives way to the soft rise of grass-covered earth. The wind is constant— salty, strong, alive—wrapping around you like breath. The sun burns overhead, and the land stretches wide beneath a trembling sky. Grasses sway, yellow butterflies drift, and the scent of sea and stone fills the air. Ahead, the cliffs cut into the turquoise ocean, where waves speak in foam and rhythm. Ka Lae is more than landscape—it is a threshold, where fire-born land meets the living present, and each step draws you deeper into its quiet, powerful presence.

THE LAVASTONES BETWEEN THE GRASSES

As you move from the open grasses toward the scattered lava stones emerging from the earth, the landscape shifts in texture and tone. The soft undulation of windswept blades yields to the hard geometry of ancient basalt—dark, sun-warmed surfaces breaking through the green like memories surfacing from deep time. Beneath your feet, the ground grows uneven, each step a negotiation between balance and weight, between yielding soil and the firmness of cooled fire. The stones radiate heat, absorbing the sun’s intensity and releasing it in silent pulses, like the breath of a sleeping land. Your body registers the change—not just in terrain, but in tempo—as if the earth asks you to slow down, to listen. Here, the wind catches differently, whispering between cracks, while the grasses bend around the stones, embracing them in soft defiance. It is a threshold in reverse: from the living to the elemental, from movement to memory.

FROM GRAVEL TO MOWING GRASS

As you approach the trench—a deep, windcarved scar in the land—the physical world begins to thin. The grasses hush, the stones fall silent, and the wind gathers into a more deliberate rhythm, as if echoing an older language. The trench is not merely a cut in the earth, but a boundary: a liminal rift where the tangible gives way to the unseen. On one side, the world of form—heat, weight, breath—on the other, the realm of spirit, memory, and ancestral presence. It is a place of separation, yet not severance. A narrow bridge spans the void, simple in structure but immense in meaning. Stepping onto it, you feel a shift—not in gravity, but in gravity of being. The bridge binds what the trench divides: a passage held between realms, where the soul listens more than the body moves. Below, the depths remain unknowable, carved by time and wind and something older still. And yet above, in the crossing, the two worlds recognize each other—mirrored in silence, connected in breath.

THE CHAPEL

THE CEREMONIAL SPACE

We enter the main chapel through a towering, stone-framed threshold. Inside, the space rises nearly fifteen meters high— cool Roman concrete bathed in vertical light from an open shaft above. Sunlight pours down like a blessing, striking the still water where our beloved rests upon a lava stone. The room curves gently inward, drawing the eye toward a narrow opening that frames the vast, trembling horizon of Ka Lae. Reflections from the water ripple across the ceiling, as if we are seated beneath the ocean’s surface. Wind stirs the pool; light dances. Rain begins to fall, entering through the high opening, and the air shifts—thick with silence, vibration, and the distant breath of the gods. The space hums. Water rises slowly around our feet, connecting us in stillness. Here, light, stone, air, and water converge into one living presence— ephemeral, sacred, and deeply felt.

“In the past few seconds, each of you has done something vital—without thought, without effort: you have breathed. Let us breathe together now—two deep breaths. Inhale… and let go. Again—breathe in… and release. That second breath we just took—it came from the ocean. The ocean, the breath of our planet, produces over half of the Earth’s oxygen. We are alive because of it. Look around you—at the land, the wind, the people beside you. Hold each other. Meet one another’s eyes. Share an embrace. Be gentle. In this moment of awareness, let gratitude rise—for nature, for the gift of being alive. For the ocean, above all—for it is where everything begins. Life emerged from its depths, and gave us breath. In our Kumulipo, our sacred creation chant, the coral polyp is the first form of life—from it, all others unfold. Today, we return a life to that source, to nourish the reef. Where something ends, something else begins. Where a body falls, new life rises.”

THE CEREMONIAL SPACE

The ceremonial space with heavenly light

The ceremonial in the darkness the rain unite

THE CHAPEL

THE CREMATORY

Space to wait

The crematory

Where ashes become substrate—a stone of remembrance—we ascend a narrow stair between slanting walls, guided by a blade of light, as if walking through the cliffs or lava tubes of Ka Lae. A break in the wall reveals a framed vista: Ka Lae stretching outward, Kilauea in the distance, its molten flows birthing new land. With each step, the view expands, the air shifts. At the top, light filters through a small opening, leading us into the atelier.

From the balcony, we stand on the edge— land meeting sky. The round space opens to the heavens through a wide circular skylight, evoking the mouth of a crater. Striated concrete walls echo cooled lava flows. Light touches a central worktable, then turns toward a cabinet holding remembrance stones—ashes returned to the sea. These stones, formed from human remains, volcanic ash, shell lime, seawater, and crushed ‘opihi, will one day grow life again.

THE ATELIER - MATERIAL STUDIES

a mix from shelllime, vulcanic ashes, human ashes, crushed opihi shells and seawaterforms the base for a substrate for the living reef.

THE ATELIER - MATERIAL STUDIES

the cycle

opihi’i

human

vulcanic ashes sea water

THE TRENCH

This is where we pause—for now. Slowly, we begin the return, yet we linger a moment longer, suspended above the trench of Ka Lae, poised between the tangible world and the realm of spirit. The landscape around us has shifted subtly, as if time breathed through it. Silence holds the space. I hear the grasses brushing one another, the trees murmuring in the wind. Wait a little longer—be still within the threshold.

THE LAVA STONES

We tread back across the vast, uneven lava stones—each step a deliberate negotiation with the earth’s ancient memory. The dark basalt, fractured and monumental, holds the sun’s warmth like a quiet archive of fire. Beneath our feet, the ground speaks in cracks and contours, guiding us across its hardened flows. With each movement, the body recalls its place within deep time, and the silence is filled with the echo of footsteps returning— slow, reverent, and bound to the land.

THE LAVA STONES

Walking through the tall grasses, the skin senses the gentle brush of each blade, while the air carries the subtle scent of earth and wildflowers. The wind weaves softly through the stalks, its cool touch stirring a quiet symphony of rustling leaves and distant whispers of life, enfolding the body in a delicate, ever-shifting embrace.

BACK TO THE CHAPEL, THE MOMENT FOR DELIVERY

One month later, the transfer of the memorial stone to the sea takes place. This marks the official farewell ritual, where we bid a definitive goodbye to the departed beloved. The body will be returned to the corals, back to the ocean, where it receives a new the protection of all life that will grow around it. We then proceed along the first half of the initial route back toward the chapel.

THE SECOND CHAPEL - WHERE THE SOUL RISES

Descending, we follow the water’s edge into the landscape, moving beneath the surface—both physically and metaphorically underground. With increasing silence, a growing sense of isolation envelops us. We enter the observatory, a contemplative space where we cast our gaze upon our continued existence in a transformed state: memory embodied. The stone we are about to return to the sea becomes this new vessel of presence. Seated within the circular chamber, we fix our eyes upon the memorial stone. Beyond it, a vast, white wall stretches infinitely upward toward the blue sky. Light filters through, casting a distinctive glow upon the walls and illuminating the stone like a spotlight. Though an observatory by name, the abstraction of its architecture, combined with the surrounding landscape’s colors, evokes an almost surreal experience. We lift the memorial stone—the new embodiment of the departed. The emptiness that now holds it will soon give way to growth and life.

floorplan - nivo -1

scale 1 - 200

STONE UNDER THE PLEIADES

inspired by the rocks of Ka Lae and the natrual habitat of the coral reefs.

THE OBSERVATORY - OBSERVATION

STONE UNDER THE PLEIADES

THE LAVATUBE

The Walk of Reflection leads us toward the final resting place of the beloved. As we enter the profound darkness of the lava tunnel, our senses sharpen in response to the absence of light. In the enveloping shadows, vision adjusts—shapes and textures emerge subtly, and the silence heightens our awareness of every breath, every footfall. The darkness acts as a veil of introspection, stripping away distractions and fostering a deep internal stillness. Emerging from the lavatube, the sudden return of light and the sight of grasses bending toward the rugged lava cliffs of Ka Lae flood the senses with renewed clarity. This transition from shadow to light feels like a rebirth—a moment of awakening where the body and mind realign, invigorated by the vivid interplay of nature’s raw elements. Along the route, we carry this renewal within us, remembering and meditating, poised to meet what lies ahead with presence and reverence.

THE STREAMS OF LAVA GUIDES US BACK TO LAND

Approaching the ocean observatory, we descend along the cliffs to a place of stillness and anticipation. One chamber opens where ancient lava once met the sea—now a space for quiet meditation. Another offers vast perspective over the ocean’s expanse. Here, we wait. When the boat carrying the memorial stone appears on the horizon, we rise, and begin to follow—tracing the final passage of our beloved.

THROUGH THE CLIFFS

Walking through the cliffs of Ka Lae beside the sea is an immersive, multisensory encounter with elemental force and geological time. The wind carves its way through the basalt edges, carrying the briny scent of salt and seaweed, while waves crash rhythmically below, their deep resonance echoing through stone. Underfoot, the terrain shifts from rough, sun-warmed lava to smoothed ledges etched by centuries of ocean breath. The air tastes of minerals and motion; your skin feels the contrast of heat from the rock and the cool spray of sea mist. Light fractures across the surface—shadows dancing between crevices—while seabirds cry above, tracing the invisible currents. It is a place where perception expands, where the body becomes attuned to both vastness and detail, and where movement through the cliffs feels like a quiet ritual of sensing, remembering, and belonging.

THE STAIRS

THE STAIRS

Emerging from the cliffs, we behold the staircase—a structure carved in dialogue with the rock, descending seamlessly into the sea and vanishing beneath the surface. It appears to stretch infinitely downward, dissolving into the depths. Waves break gently where the lowest visible steps meet the water, marking the threshold between land and ocean. Slowly, we begin our descent. Some steps offer places to sit, inviting pause and reflection. At a submerged landing, just beneath the tide, stands the ceremonial guide—appearing to hover, held by the precise rhythm of the sea. In the distance, the boat approaches, carrying the divers and our beloved, now held in the form of the memorial stone. As the stone is lowered into the ocean, bubbles rise—tracing its resting place below. In that moment, I feel the staircase as a conduit— binding me across the vast, unseen depth to the one I have lost, now returned to the sea.

“Hoi’ i ke kumu” — Return to the source. Eia kiua i kiia li — We are here today, to let go and to give back. From darkness, the first life emerged: the coral polyp. The Kumulipo tells us the story of origin— Life began in the reef, in silence, in the sea. And today, we return a life to that sea.

As the polyp builds stone from light, so too do we build memory from love. He / she / they now become part of the reef— a body returning to nourish coral, to sustain sea life, to join the sacred cycle of a’ina me ke kai — land and sea.

They came from the night, and now return to the beginning— where the ocean protects, the reef sings, and the waves come and go.

Ho’omoe me ke aloha — Rest with love. Ua ho’i ‘oe i ka pi — i ka polipi mua o ke ola — You have returned to the night, to the first polyp of life.

small voids to place coral fragments

small marine spevies can shelter in the small holes. the voids between the rocks allow bigger marine species to habitat.

ALONG THE CLIFFS

Halfway along Ka Lae’s cliffs, the earth fractures into quiet ledges, where the horizon wavers between solidity and dissolving blue. The scent of salt and volcanic stone merges with the wind, carrying whispers of migrations—human, marine, and memory. Beneath your feet, the cliff hums with unseen tides, as if the land itself listens to the ocean’s pulse.

ALONG THE CLIFFS

As we ascend from the water’s edge, the air sharpens—thinner, drier—carrying the scent of stone and sun-warmed salt. Each step upward draws the body from fluidity to firmness, where gravity feels heavier, and the vastness below lingers in the breath.

TOWARDS THE SOURCE

With Kilauea rising in the distant haze—the earth’s luminous source—I walk the cliff’s edge, where lava once met air. Each step toward the solitary tree is a quiet reckoning with origin, framed by stone, wind, and ancestral breath.

HIGH GRASSES DEVELOPING FREELY AND MULTIPLY

High grasses sway unchecked, evolving freely as time drifts forward, their movement shaped by wind’s gentle insistence and quiet resilience. Immersed within them, I feel both disoriented and liberated—as if untethered from linear thought, carried on the breath of the breeze. In this disarray, life becomes vivid; presence sharpens in the wildness of the moment.

PASSING THE CURRENTS

PASSING THE CURRENTS

THE AFTERWORD THE MEMORIAL REEF

This project at Ka Lae unfolds as an experimental symphony between architecture, landscape, spirituality, culture ecology, and memory—a living dialogue where coral restoration becomes a ritual of renewal and remembrance. Through the careful design of an underwater structure, the research delves into the biological nuances of coral growth and the rich sensory textures of place, intertwining the marine ecosystem’s fragile rhythms with the human experience of loss and transformation into a new life.

The reef, both physical and poetic, serves as a sanctuary of remembrance, where the salt-laden breath of the ocean mingles with whispered waves and the subtle hum of underwater life. The rough texture of volcanic rock, the gentle sway of coral branches, and the shimmering dance of sunlight beneath the water’s surface evoke a tactile and visual tapestry that grounds the ritual in sensory presence. The scent of brine and the cool embrace of the sea permeate the space, inviting an embodied encounter with life’s cycles.

Situated at Ka Lae— this unique landscape frames the interplay between the tangible and intangible: the coral’s delicate polyps pulsate with quiet resilience, echoing the fragile persistence of memory held in the body and what is left behind by the family

and friends . Here, ritual gestures mirror the ocean’s cadence—slow, flowing, cyclical— blurring boundaries between human and marine realms.

The project honors the passage from presence to absence, life to death, ocean to land, through ritual acts that awaken the senses and the soul. In the symbolic return of human remains to the reef, the body dissolves into the underwater world, reconnecting flesh and bone with coral and currents. This process reaffirms our inseparable bond with nature’s eternal cycles of decay and rebirth, memory and transformation. Farewell itself becomes a memory, carried and shaped by the landscape’s touch—where every scent, sound, and texture awakens the senses and imprints the moment onto the soul.

Ultimately, The Memorial Reef and life invites us to experience loss not as an ending, but as a sensory journey of transformation—a breathing exchange between land, sea, body, and spirit, woven through light, texture, sound, and scent, echoing the continuing breath of life beneath the waves.

And with this awareness and respect for nature, because we leave our passed loved once behind, we will take better care for our nature in the future, as our acient relatives will be there.

WITH DEEPEST THANKS TO...

FAMILY, FRIENDS AND COLLEAGUES..

- Ricky Rijkenberg

- Sarah Engelhart

- Marlies Boterman

- Thijs de Zeeuw

- Ziega van den Berk

- Daan Houtzager, Reefy

- Jesse De Bont, Reefsystems

- Max Dijkstra, Reefsystems

- Kara Majerus, SORCE

- Paulo Marin, NOAA

- Sylvia Pruijn

- Rob en Lia Pruijn

- Claudia Pruijn

- De zus van oma

- Winston Pruijn

- All of my friends with all their patience

- And most of all, to the ocean and its coral reefs — for the breath they lend our lungs, the rhythm they gift our tides, the life they give and share — my deepest thank you.

FROM THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN...