Stand at the edge of a coffee row in Holualoa just after sunrise. The air carries the faint sweetness of Kona blossoms, what locals call Kona snow for the way white flowers dust the trees in spring. By September, those blossoms have become heavy red cherries, and somewhere along that row, a woman is picking them. She knows this tree. She knows how it performed last year, how the March rains hit it, and what the berry count looks like compared to the row beside it. She is not a background figure in this story. She is the story.
Behind many of the most respected names in Kona coffee, you will find women. They run the rows at dawn. They manage the books after dinner. They testify in committee rooms in Honolulu. They train the next generation on the farm during afternoon breaks from school. Women in Kona coffee farming on the Big Island are not a niche category or a recent development. They are foundational to what makes this coffee belt one of the most distinctive agricultural regions in the world.
This spotlight does not claim to be an exhaustive list. The Kona coffee belt stretches roughly thirty miles along the western slope of Mauna Loa, running from Holualoa in the north through Kealakekua, Captain Cook, Honaunau, and deep into South Kona. Hundreds of farms operate within that corridor. The stories shared here represent a much larger community of women across every mile of it.
At Buddha's Cup, we farm on this same volcanic soil. We share the same weather anxieties that keep growers awake in March when a Kona Low builds offshore. We share the same harvest rhythms, the same conversations about fertilizer costs, the same pride when a roast comes out exactly right. We have watched women lead across every aspect of this industry for as long as we have been part of it. This article is our way of saying that out loud.
In the sections that follow, we trace the history of women's labor in Kona coffee from the plantation era to the present. We profile the kinds of growers shaping the belt today, from micro-farm operators doing every task themselves to heritage farm leaders navigating multi-decade responsibilities. We look at the advocacy work happening in committee rooms and board chambers. We examine what 2026's compounding challenges, from the March Kona Low to fertilizer supply pressures, have meant for women operators specifically. We explore agritourism as a platform where women farmers become educators. And we look at how the knowledge women carry moves from one generation to the next. If you want to understand the people behind your morning cup, start here.
The Roots of Women's Labor in Kona Coffee History
Women's contributions to Kona coffee did not begin with modern agritourism or the rise of direct-to-consumer retail. They began in the fields of the late 1800s, when coffee cultivation first took hold on the slopes of the Big Island. Understanding that history matters because it reframes the conversation. Women in Kona coffee farming are not new voices asking for a seat at the table. They built the table.
From Plantation Era to Family Farm Ownership
Coffee arrived on the Big Island in the 1820s and found its footing in Kona's distinctive microclimate: volcanic soil with excellent drainage, afternoon cloud cover that moderates heat stress on the trees, and elevation bands between 1,200 and 2,000 feet that slow cherry development and concentrate sugars. By the late 1800s, organized cultivation was underway, and the labor that sustained it was substantially female.
In the plantation era, women worked alongside men in the picking rows and took on additional responsibilities in the domestic processing of harvested fruit. The drying of parchment coffee, the monitoring of fermentation, and the sorting of green beans before sale were tasks that fell within the household sphere, and women managed them with precision that directly affected the quality of what reached buyers. This was skilled work, even when it was unpaid and unrecorded.
The shift from plantation-scale operations toward small family farm ownership accelerated in the mid-twentieth century. By the time Kona's signature small-farm model took hold, with many operations running just a few acres worked almost entirely by family members, women were already central to every stage of production. The difference was that now the farm itself was a family asset, and women's labor was woven into the economics of ownership rather than the economics of wage employment.
Across multi-generational farms, women often held the institutional memory of varieties, processing methods, and soil management practices even when formal ownership sat with male family members. They remembered which block of trees produced the most consistent cherry size. They knew when the fermentation tanks needed to be drained based on smell rather than a timer. They tracked which years had brought late rains and what that had done to the dried parchment. This knowledge did not appear in any ledger, but it kept farms viable across decades.
The legacy of Kona coffee farmers is built from exactly this kind of accumulated knowledge, passed through families and communities over generations. The Greenwell family, whose farm has operated for 176 years on the Big Island, represents the kind of deep-rooted history that only survives when knowledge is treated as precious and shared carefully across time. That preservation has consistently involved women at its center.
What made the Kona model distinctive, even in a global context, was its human scale. When a farm is small enough that every tree is known individually, the person who knows those trees becomes indispensable. Women were that person on farm after farm, generation after generation, long before the industry formalized titles or recognized their roles in ways that showed up in census records or trade publications.
The Rise of Women as Named Farm Owners and Operators
The structural shift that brought women into named, visible roles as farm owners and operators happened gradually through the 1990s and accelerated in the 2000s. The driving forces were not social in isolation. They were economic.
Direct-to-consumer sales and agritourism created new revenue streams that depended on functions women had always performed. Farm store management, tour hosting, online retail operations, customer correspondence, and tasting room coordination became recognized economic activities because they generated measurable income. Women who had always done these things gained institutional recognition as the roles themselves gained financial value.
This is not a cynical observation. It reflects a real and positive development. As the farm tour economy grew along the belt, as mail-order coffee became viable through the internet, and as specialty coffee consumers began seeking direct relationships with producers, the skills women brought to those relationships became the farm's competitive advantage. The person who could explain wet processing to a visitor in a way that made them want to buy a pound to take home was doing economic development work. And often, that person was a woman.
The 100% Kona label protection movement brought another arena where women farmers organized early and effectively. Authenticity standards matter enormously in a region where the name carries significant market premium. Women who understood the farm economics of that premium, because they were managing the accounts, became advocates for the enforcement mechanisms that protect it. Understanding what makes Kona coffee distinct from other regional coffee cultures starts with understanding how fiercely this community defends its standards, and women have been central to that defense.
Today, women are owners, head roasters, farm managers, and board members across the belt. The visibility has caught up, at least partially, with the reality that always existed. There is still work to do in formal recognition and economic equity, but the trajectory is clear.
Cultural Context: Hawaiian Women and the Land
To fully understand women's relationship to coffee farming on the Big Island, you need to understand something about the Hawaiian relationship to land itself. The concept of malama aina, caring for the land, is not simply an environmental philosophy. It is a framework for how humans understand their role in a place. The land is not owned. It is tended. The person who tends it is responsible to it, not over it.
For Native Hawaiian women on the land, farming is often framed through this lens of stewardship rather than ownership. That framing shapes how they talk about succession: not what they will leave behind, but what the land will need next. It shapes how they talk about soil health: not as an input management problem, but as a relationship that requires attention and reciprocity. It shapes how they talk about sustainability: not as a marketing term, but as an obligation to the place and the people who will farm it after them.
This cultural context connects directly to the broader pattern of plant stewardship that characterizes many women-led farms in the region. Mamaki, the native Hawaiian herbal plant, grows on farms like ours at Buddha's Cup. Women at farms across the belt have been central to growing awareness of mamaki's cultural and wellness significance, introducing it to visitors who have never encountered it, preparing it as tea during tastings, and explaining its place in Hawaiian botanical tradition. Celebrating local heritage through tea is one of the ways that the broader story of women's stewardship becomes tangible for visitors and buyers.
The history of tea plants in Hawaii is inseparable from the history of women who grew them, used them, and taught others their value. That history runs parallel to the coffee story and intersects with it at every farm where both crops share the land.
As we move from history into the present day, the thread connecting all of these eras is consistency. Women have always been here. What has changed is how clearly we can see them.
Profiles in Growing: Women Farmers Across the Kona Belt Today
The Kona coffee belt in 2026 is home to hundreds of individual farm operations, ranging from micro-parcels of a few acres to heritage estates with multi-decade histories. Within that range, women are present at every scale and in every role. The profiles in this section are drawn from the patterns, realities, and publicly documented experiences of the farming community. They represent composites of real people doing real work, described with the specificity that comes from being their neighbors and peers.
Small-Acreage Owners Doing Everything Themselves
Picture a farm of four acres in the Holualoa corridor, sitting at around 1,500 feet elevation on a slope that catches the afternoon clouds almost every day. The woman who runs it wakes before the sky lightens. She checks the irrigation timer, walks the first row to look for signs of Coffee Berry Borer damage, and assesses the overnight wind for any branch breakage. By the time most people are starting their workday, she has already made three decisions that will affect this season's yield.
This is the micro-farm operator. She typically manages between three and seven acres, often with one other family member sharing the work, and she handles every task herself: pruning through roasting through packing through shipping. During harvest season, which runs from September through February in the Kona belt, the picking rotations intensify. Each tree is visited multiple times as cherries ripen at different rates. Selective hand-picking, the practice that distinguishes Kona coffee from machine-harvested commodity coffee, is physically demanding work sustained over months.
In the evenings, the work shifts from physical to administrative. Order fulfillment, customer emails, social media updates, tour schedule coordination, and bookkeeping occupy the hours after dinner. Many small-acreage women operators are also the farm's primary customer relationship manager, the voice that answers questions from buyers in Seattle or New York who want to know about this year's harvest and whether the medium roast is available yet.
Holualoa is particularly dense with this kind of operation. The village sits at the northern end of the Kona coffee belt and has historically been home to a cluster of small farms with deep community ties. The tasting and tour economy along this corridor has been a lifeline for small operators, giving them direct-to-consumer margins that commodity sales never could. What it looks like to visit a working Kona coffee farm is shaped substantially by what these small-acreage operators have built, farm by farm, over decades.
Heading into late 2026, rising production costs are placing particular pressure on small-acreage operators. Fertilizer prices, labor costs, and the lingering effects of the March 2026 Kona Low storm have compressed margins in ways that are difficult to absorb on a four-acre income. Women running these farms are navigating cost-cutting decisions that carry real risk: reducing a fertilizer application to save money today can mean a yield reduction next year that costs far more than the savings. The calculus is brutal, and it falls on people who are already doing the work of three or four employees.
What keeps these operators going is not just economics. It is identity and community. These women are not simply running a business. They are maintaining a way of life, a connection to a specific piece of land, and a set of relationships with neighbors, customers, and the land itself that money cannot fully quantify. That does not make the financial pressure less real. But it does explain the resilience.
Women Leading Mid-Size and Heritage Operations
At the mid-size and heritage end of the spectrum, the challenges multiply in scale while the fundamental character of the work remains the same. Women managing or co-managing farms with longer operational histories carry a particular weight: the responsibility of variety integrity across decades.
When a farm has been growing a specific selection of Typica trees since the 1970s, the decision about whether to introduce a new variety is not simply an agronomic calculation. It is a question about identity and legacy. What does this farm stand for? What has it always produced? What will it be known for in another forty years? Women who have grown up on these farms, or who married into families with this kind of history, often carry the clearest sense of the answers. They were present for the conversations their parents and grandparents had about exactly these questions.
For heritage farms, the question of when to invest in new processing equipment carries similar weight. A new pulping machine is not just an equipment upgrade. It is a statement about how the farm values its fruit and what experience it wants to create for the person who eventually drinks the coffee. Women farm leaders who have spent years explaining their processing philosophy to buyers and visitors have a sharp understanding of what that equipment choice communicates.
The March 2026 Kona Low provides a vivid example of the scale of decisions these leaders face. The storm caused nearly two million dollars in reported damage on Hawaii Island alone, with the full extent still being assessed as farmers gained access to fields in the weeks following the event. The Greenwell farm, one of the oldest continuously operating coffee farms in Hawaii at 176 years, lost 24,000 nursery trees and approximately 20% of its crop. Decisions about how to respond to that loss, what to replant, in what order, with what variety, using what financial resources, all fell on the people leading that operation through one of the most difficult seasons in recent memory.
Women in these roles navigate relationships with distributors, importers, and specialty roasters on the mainland while simultaneously managing field crews, tracking harvest data, and making the kind of post-disaster triage decisions that require both financial sophistication and intimate knowledge of every block on the farm. The combination of skills is extraordinary, and it rarely gets the recognition it deserves.
Head Roasters and Quality Control Leaders
Post-harvest processing and roasting represent a distinct skill set within Kona coffee, and women who specialize in this side of the operation have built reputations that extend well beyond the belt.
Roasting Kona coffee is not simply a matter of applying a standard curve and walking away. The beans' density, which reflects the slow development that happens at Kona's elevations, affects how heat moves through them. The moisture content after wet processing varies by farm, by season, and by how long the parchment has rested. The elevation of the specific block the beans came from influences how the roast develops in the final minutes. A skilled roaster reads these variables and adjusts in real time, logging the results and refining the approach with each batch.
Women who have developed this expertise have often done so through years of trial, failure, careful documentation, and community exchange. The Kona Coffee Farmers Association's newsletter, which earned recognition as the best agricultural newsletter in Hawaii for its August 2026 issue, reflects how seriously this community takes education and skill development. That recognition is meaningful because it comes from a community that holds itself to high standards. The women contributing to that culture of learning, as roasters, as writers, as educators, are shaping what Kona coffee means to the people who drink it.
When you source coffee from a women-led roast operation, you are often getting a higher level of traceability in the cup. The person who grew the cherry, processed the bean, and developed the roast profile is the same person, or part of the same small team, who packed and shipped the bag to your door. That chain of custody is what specialty coffee buyers pay for, and women roasters in Kona have been building it, one careful batch at a time. The island flavor characteristics that make Kona coffee distinctive are inseparable from the decisions a skilled roaster makes with every batch. And the farmer stories in their own words that give buyers a window into these operations often come from women who are equally comfortable talking about agronomy and roast chemistry in the same conversation.
Advocacy and Leadership: Women Shaping Kona Coffee Policy
Coffee farming in Hawaii does not happen in isolation from policy. Biosecurity decisions affect what pests and diseases farmers can manage, and how. Agricultural labeling laws determine what protections Kona coffee producers have against fraudulent blends. Input regulations govern what farmers can apply to their soil and when. These policy questions are decided in committee rooms, board chambers, and hearing halls, and women in Kona coffee have made their presence felt in all of them.
Suzanne Shriner and the Board of Agriculture Nomination
In April 2026, Governor Green nominated Kona Coffee Farmers Association Vice President Suzanne Shriner to serve on the ten-member Board of Agriculture and Biosecurity for Hawaii Island. This was a significant appointment, and not simply as a symbolic recognition of women's leadership in the community.
The Board of Agriculture and Biosecurity makes decisions that have direct, concrete effects on what farmers can and cannot do on their land. Biosecurity protocols determine how quickly Hawaii responds to new pest and disease threats. The Coffee Berry Borer, which has been one of the most damaging pests in Kona coffee history, arrived in Hawaii in 2010 and has required ongoing management strategies that only work if the entire community coordinates. Having a Kona coffee farmer, someone who understands the daily reality of managing CBB pressure on a working farm, in a formal governance role on this board matters enormously for the quality of decisions that body makes.
Shriner's nomination reflects a larger pattern that has been building for years. Women in the Kona coffee community have been accumulating the credibility, the institutional knowledge, and the relational networks that lead to formal leadership appointments. Those appointments, in turn, open doors to policy influence that shapes conditions for every farmer on the belt, regardless of scale or gender.
Soil health conversations, sustainable input practices, and the long-term viability of Kona's farming ecosystem all flow through the kind of governance this board exercises. Having women who farm this land sitting at that table is not just equitable. It is strategically smart for the entire community.
Legislative Testimony and Organized Advocacy
Beyond individual appointments, women farmers in Kona have been consistent participants in organized legislative advocacy. The April 2026 KCFA newsletter included a specific call for written testimony from farmers, with the note that even checking a single box on a submission form makes a difference in how legislators understand the scope of community concern.
This kind of coordinated testimony campaign works because Hawaii's agricultural legislative process is genuinely responsive to organized farmer input. When a committee sees hundreds of submissions from working farmers on the same issue, that volume carries weight. The women who coordinate these campaigns understand the political mechanics and have made themselves effective at using them.
Women farmers often bring a particular perspective to testimony around labeling, food safety, and input access. They tend to manage the compliance and paperwork side of farm operations, which means they encounter the real-world effects of regulatory decisions at a granular level. When a new labeling requirement adds three hours of monthly administrative work to a one-person farm operation, the person who feels that burden most directly is usually the one handling the paperwork. That perspective, grounded in operational reality rather than abstract policy preference, makes for compelling testimony.
The importance of community support for Kona coffee shows up in legislative contexts just as clearly as it does in the marketplace. When buyers choose Kona coffee grown by women-led operations, they are participating in a community that also shows up in Honolulu to defend its interests. The two things are connected.
The KCFA Symposium and Continuing Education
The Kona Coffee Farmers Association's February 2026 symposium brought together growers for a full day of education that covered agronomy topics, coffee flowering cycles, and an exchange with Kauai Coffee operations that gave Kona farmers a window into how a larger-scale Hawaiian operation manages its processes. Women farmers were active participants throughout, and several served as presenters on topics where their expertise was recognized by the community.
Skill-sharing events like the symposium are one of the strongest assets the Kona belt has. When a head roaster explains her approach to managing moisture content in wet-processed beans, every other roaster in the room learns something they can apply the following week. When a farmer who has been experimenting with cover cropping to reduce fertilizer dependence shares her data, other farmers have information that might help them navigate the same input cost pressures she has faced.
Education in sustainable farming looks like specific, practical knowledge applied to real conditions. Cover cropping decisions that account for Kona's particular rainfall patterns. Irrigation timing that works with the afternoon cloud cover rather than against it. Pest identification skills sharp enough to catch CBB pressure early, before it spreads. Roast logging detailed enough to replicate a successful batch six months later. Women in the Kona community have been both recipients and generators of this knowledge throughout the symposium's history.
Understanding what role education plays in sustainable coffee farming is inseparable from understanding how communities like this one maintain and transmit expertise across seasons and generations. The symposium is one formal expression of a knowledge-sharing culture that operates informally every day, in fields and processing areas and farm store conversations across the belt.
Resilience in Hard Seasons: Women Farmers and the 2026 Challenges
2026 has been a genuinely difficult year for Kona coffee farmers. Saying that plainly, without softening it, matters because understanding what women farmers have navigated this year requires understanding the actual conditions. The resilience is real. So is the hardship that made resilience necessary.
The March 2026 Kona Low and Its Aftermath
A Kona Low is a cyclonic weather system that develops near the Hawaiian Islands, typically in winter or early spring. Unlike trade wind weather, which arrives from the northeast and tends to bring predictable patterns, a Kona Low brings moisture and wind from the south, often dumping heavy rain and high winds on the normally leeward western slopes of the Big Island where the coffee belt sits. For farmers who count on that leeward position for protection, a Kona Low is a worst-case scenario.
The March 2026 Kona Low was severe. By the time initial assessments were completed, reported damage on Hawaii Island alone was approaching two million dollars, with expectations that the number would grow as farmers gained access to fields that had been blocked by flooding, downed trees, and road damage. The storm hit at a vulnerable time in the agricultural calendar, when nursery seedlings representing next season's planting stock were still young and when the trees themselves were in early flowering stages that wind and waterlogging could disrupt.
The Greenwell farm's losses, 24,000 nursery trees and approximately 20% of the crop, illustrate what that kind of damage means in operational terms. Twenty percent of a crop is not a minor setback. It is revenue that does not exist this season, labor costs that were incurred without return, and seedlings that represented years of cultivation wiped out in a single weather event. For a 176-year-old farm, the institutional resilience to absorb a loss like this exists. For a four-acre micro-farm run by a single operator, the same percentage loss could be an existential threat.
Women farm operators navigated the response to the storm in specific, practical ways. Coordinating cleanup labor when everyone in the community needed it at the same time. Filing damage assessments with agencies that required documentation most small farmers had to compile from scratch. Managing cash flow during the gap in production that followed the storm, when orders still needed to be fulfilled but inventory was depleted. Communicating with customers who wanted to understand why their usual shipment was delayed and whether the farm was okay.
That last task, customer communication during a crisis, requires a kind of emotional and logistical steadiness that is easy to undervalue. The relationship between a small Kona coffee farm and its loyal buyers is personal. Those buyers care about the people behind the product. Maintaining that relationship through a difficult season, being honest about what happened without alarming customers to the point of losing them, is a form of farm management that women in this community have handled with remarkable grace.
Fertilizer Access and Input Cost Pressures
Separate from the storm damage, 2026 has also brought a fertilizer access crisis that is restructuring how farmers think about their operations. Survey data collected from Kona belt growers has found that farmers who cannot obtain adequate fertilizer face yield losses of up to 50%. In response, growers are actively cutting planting areas, abandoning crops in some cases, and substituting inputs in ways that may have long-term soil health consequences.
The September 2026 KCFA newsletter documented these patterns in detail, giving the broader community a clear picture of how widespread the problem has become. For women operators who manage farm finances directly, every input cost decision involves a calculation that extends beyond this season's budget. Reducing a potassium application to save money this quarter might mean weaker cell wall development in next year's cherry, which affects processing quality, which affects the price the coffee commands, which affects whether the savings were actually savings at all.
Women farmers who have been managing these decisions have consistently demonstrated a preference for solutions that protect soil health over the medium term even when they cost more in the short term. This reflects both the malama aina ethic described earlier and a practical understanding that the farm's productivity depends on the health of the soil in ways that play out over decades, not quarters.
Sustainable farming practices have become both an economic and ecological response to the input cost crisis. Cover cropping, composting, and reduced-tillage approaches that build soil organic matter can reduce dependence on purchased inputs over time, though the transition requires capital and patience that are both in short supply in a difficult year. Understanding when new trees get planted for sustainable farming is part of the same long-horizon thinking that characterizes the most resilient operations on the belt.
Community Response and Mutual Support Networks
One of the most consistent features of how women in Kona coffee have responded to 2026's compounding challenges is their use of community networks. Formal and informal, these networks move resources, information, labor, and emotional support across the farming community in ways that make individual operations more resilient than they would be in isolation.
Sharing of seedlings after the nursery losses from the March storm was one concrete expression of this. Farmers who had stock to spare made it available to neighbors who had lost everything in their nursery rows. Labor exchanges, where workers help at one farm during a bottleneck and that help is returned during a different season, function similarly. Cooperative marketing arrangements that let small farms share the cost of a mainland trade show or a shipping container help micro-operators access markets that would otherwise be out of reach.
The KCFA newsletter has been a critical communication channel holding this community together through 2026's sequence of challenges. Its January 2026 issue established the year's context and helped farmers understand they were facing industry-wide pressures rather than individual failures. That framing matters. When you know that the fertilizer shortage is affecting every farm on the belt, not just yours, the problem becomes a community problem with potential community solutions rather than a private crisis to be weathered alone.
Women have often been the architects of these mutual support systems, not because they have more time for it, they absolutely do not, but because they tend to maintain the relational infrastructure that makes rapid resource-sharing possible. They know who has the extra seedlings. They know who needs help with the cleanup crew. They know who is struggling to make the numbers work this quarter and might benefit from a conversation with someone who found a creative solution last season. Hawaiian coffee culture explained is fundamentally a story about this kind of community interdependence, and women are at the heart of it.
Agritourism as a Platform: Women Farmers as Educators and Hosts
The relationship between agritourism and women's visibility in Kona coffee is not coincidental. As farm tours, tasting experiences, and direct visitor engagement became significant revenue streams, women who had always been the farm's primary educators and hosts gained an economic platform that formalized roles they had long performed informally.
Why Farm Tours Matter for Women-Led Operations
Agritourism revenue gives small and mid-size farms a direct-to-consumer income stream that partially offsets the volatility of commodity coffee pricing. When green bean prices fluctuate based on global market conditions that have nothing to do with the quality of Kona coffee specifically, farms with strong agritourism programs have an income buffer that pure producers lack. The visitor who pays for a farm tour, buys a bag of coffee in the farm store, and ships a gift box home to family on the mainland is contributing value that bypasses the commodity market entirely.
Approximately twelve of fifteen mapped tasting and tour farms in the Kona belt are clustered around Holualoa and Captain Cook. That density is not accidental. These communities have a long history of small farm operations and community tourism infrastructure, and they have invested in the visitor experience in ways that benefit every farm in the corridor. When a visitor reads about Kona coffee tasting experiences and finds a cluster of options within a short drive, every farm in that cluster benefits from the draw that the collective creates.
Women farm operators who host tours are doing dual-role work: running a farm and running an educational visitor experience simultaneously. The scheduling, the hospitality, the narrative of how coffee grows and is processed, and the customer relationship that begins on the tour and potentially extends into a years-long buying relationship, all of this requires skills that overlap with but are distinct from farming itself. Women who do it well have developed something genuinely rare: the ability to translate complex agricultural and cultural knowledge into experiences that resonate with visitors who may never have seen a coffee tree before they arrived.
What You Learn From a Woman Who Grows Your Coffee
There is a specific quality to education that comes from someone who has done the work themselves. When a woman who has picked thousands of pounds of coffee cherry over decades tells you how to identify a ripe one, the information carries a weight that no general guide can replicate. When she explains the difference between wet processing and dry processing while standing next to the actual pulping machine, the smell of fermentation in the air, the explanation becomes embodied knowledge rather than abstract fact.
At Buddha's Cup, our farm tours are built around exactly this model. We offer several ways to experience the farm, each designed to give visitors direct access to the knowledge and the place. Our Free Farm Tour introduces guests to the coffee trees, the processing stages, and the story of how Kona coffee goes from cherry to cup. The Deluxe Tasting adds a structured cupping experience that teaches visitors to identify the flavor notes that distinguish our specific coffees. Manny's Walking Tour goes deeper into the agronomy of the farm, walking guests through the rows and explaining why we make