Standing knee-deep in muddy water on a sunny Saturday morning, a group of volunteers pulls weeds from a taro patch, working mostly around the perimeter.

Another group of volunteers digs out the remaining roots of California grass at a nearby plot of land, getting it ready for new plantings.

It’s back-straining work (and you’ll get muddy), but there’s laughter, camaraderie and conversation as the volunteers make progress. Once the thick California grass is removed, the land underneath is already primed to grow kalo.

Families, including mom, dad and keiki from preschoolers to teens, all pitch in. Younger kids are usually given the task of running around with nets to catch crayfish that must also be removed for the taro to thrive.

It’s all part of a community effort by the nonprofit Kakoo Oiwi to restore a slice of land in Heeia to what it was used for in ancient Hawaiian times: terraced taro patches, or loi, stretching from the mountain to the sea.

Last year, Kakoo Oiwi secured a 38-year lease from the Hawaii Community Development Authority to return the lands — 404 acres in total, about a mile past Windward Mall — to their former agricultural state.

The project’s name — Mahuahua ‘Ai o Hoi — means "replanting the fruit of Hoi." ("Hoi" is a place name.)

"Our ancestors have cultivated this land for thousands of years," said Kanekoa Shultz, Kakoo Oiwi’s acting director.

In 1928, as evidenced in a black-and-white aerial photo, the lands were dedicated to agriculture, with stream water feeding into a large and healthy fishpond.

When taro was replaced by sugar cane, pineapple and rice, and later cattle, the results included erosion, flooding and increased runoff during heavy rain. Invasive mangroves were introduced to control erosion, but they also clogged Heeia Stream.

For the past few years, the land has remained fallow, overgrown with weeds.

Memories of how taro once thrived on the lands are still vivid for kupuna who are guiding Kakoo Oiwi with its efforts, including where the taro should be planted.

ALICE HEWETT, 80, was born and raised on the very parcel where restoration efforts are under way.

She remembers how the loi stretched all the way from across King Intermediate School up into the mountains. When she was growing up, her uncle McCabe owned a poi mill across from the school.

"We had to work the land," she said. "We didn’t just eat. We had to work, we had to plan for the harvest and we had to make the poi."

Leialoha "Rocky" Kaluhiwa, 68, is the fourth generation of a family with deep roots in the Heeia soil.

As a child, she worked the loi every day. As an adult, she fought developers who wanted to turn the area into a residential development and golf course during the ’60s, and a proposed nuclear power plant at Heeia Pier in the ’70s. Now she gets to witness and guide the restoration efforts.

"Everything comes from the mountain and goes back to the ocean," she said.

Setbacks, like the theft of a truck and tools in March, have not kept the group from pressing on with its mission.

While Kakoo Oiwi seeks more donations, grants and help from volunteers, it is also working in partnership with other groups such as the Nature Conservancy, Koolaupoko Hawaiian Civic Club, Hui Ku Maoli Ola (a native Hawaiian plant nursery in Haiku) and Paepae o He‘eia, which is restoring an ancient Hawaiian fishpond at the ocean.

The Hawaii Community Foundation provided a one-year, $12,000 grant to Kakoo Oiwi — small, but enough to help get the project started.

"It’s a great project to fund because you’re getting community economic development, a native habitat restoration and food security," said Josh Stanbro, HCF’s director of environmental and sustainability programs.

Just less than 2 acres of taro have been planted so far, but the vision is to eventually expand to 150 acres, Shultz said. The taro will be sold to local families at affordable prices.

Progress could go much faster, but hurdles include funding and permits. The plantings are all done by hand, so far, because the group does not yet have permits to use machinery.

Other parcels of land will go toward growing hoio (edible fiddlehead ferns) and later, native fruits and plants.

Kakoo Oiwi’s goal is threefold: to restore the lands to their original use, to grow food and to create a community like the one that existed in ancient times.

SECOND Saturdays are designated as community workdays, when 100 to 150 volunteers show up to work in the fields.

Among them are people from all walks of life: chefs, waitresses, students and university professors, among others.

On a recent Saturday, chef Dave Caldiero of Town was pitching in with his family. On a previous Monday, Mark Noguchi, chef and owner of Heeia Kea Pier General Store & Deli, was helping along with staff and other folks from the restaurant industry.

"This is a special place," Noguchi said. "This grounds you."

Noguchi, a former hula dancer, said he cooks from a hula perspective. In hula, one gathers flora and fauna with respect. The same goes for the ingredients of a meal.

"You need to have respect for where your food comes from," he said.

Hokulani Aikau, a volunteer and University of Hawaii associate professor, regularly brings her three children, ages 2, 3 and 7, to community workdays. She wants them to experience the culture of working in a taro patch.

"For me, the loi was the family’s responsibility to care for, so everybody has a role to play," she said. "It’s all about instilling a sense of kuleana (responsibility) in them."

Aikau’s research goes hand in hand with working at the loi because she is examining the role of communities in regenerating and managing natural resources.

"I’m committed to the project, both in my personal and professional life," she said. "I love planting kalo."

After working a few hours, volunteers wash off in a nearby stream and have lunch provided by Kakoo Oiwi.

For Kaluhiwa, the fourth-generation representative, seeing the restoration efforts is both nostalgic and emotional.

Kaluhiwa wishes many of her neighbors, and her own kupuna, now gone, could see what’s happening today.

"We’re doing the groundwork for the next generation," she said. "To live to see it means it was worth all the work."