To paraphrase Jon Snow, “all the best ukulele have names.” I’ve always named my ukulele. I know some people say that is crazy, why name something that won’t come when you call it? But I’ve always named my cats too, and they sure don’t come when I call them. Warning the story to follow is long. But to understand why this is more than just an ukulele to me, it needs to be told.
I longed for a Moore Bettah ukulele almost as soon as I first saw one, not long after I started playing the uke in December of 2008 - almost six years ago. As soon as I was fortunate enough to place my order for a custom Moore Bettah ukulele, I began thinking about what I would name it. I had some beautiful looking and nice sounding ukes, and some nice looking and beautiful sounding ukes, but no uke had yet been that perfect combination for me of tone and beauty. From what I could see of Moore Bettah ukes, they seemed to be that rare union of both. Once I looked up “union” in the Hawaiian dictionary, and saw the word “hui,” I figured I would just add the word for beautiful “nani” and came up with the name “Hui Nani.” I had the name for my uke. No uke yet, but I had the name.
As I was talking with Chuck over the course of the months before my uke was built, I was struck by something that he mentioned to me at one point: that his ukes (and I suppose most custom instruments by extension) are a union of the builder and the client — it would be a part of him and a part of me that would exist in this ukulele. I smiled to myself as he said it because I knew that my ukulele’s name now had a double meaning. It was not just a union of sound and visual beauty, but also of a piece of both the luthier and myself.
As we talked story, I told him of my deep love for the Hawaiian island of Kauai. I had been going there many times a year for almost 20 years with my family and it was a place that meant more to me than any other in the world. When my grandmother passed, we scattered her ashes in Kauai, so it always made me feel closer to her when I would return.
I showed him my tattoo of a polynesian honu turtle with the Hawaiian islands embedded in his shell — and mentioned that when I wanted to be particularly close to her, I would touch the island of Kauai. I had particularly chosen a honu tattoo because every time I returned to Kauai, I never failed to see a turtle at some point poking his head above the waves — I always felt it was my grandmother telling me hello.
When we discussed what the inlay would consist of, I was firm in my belief that Chuck should determine what he wished to build. I even told him, I would no sooner tell Picasso what to paint. I only had a wish for some of the curliest koa I could buy, I hoped for a Hawaiian theme, and I wanted some turquoise in the uke, as it is my favorite color. We discussed the Na Pali coast, and I showed him a couple of photographs -- one of a turtle swimming under water and another of a Wyland scene. But I told him he was free to do whatever he wished on this ukulele.
On that day my mom and I met Chuck and his wife at their home, I mentioned that my grandfather was very ill. It had originally been my grandfather’s desire to one day live in Hawaii but he had never made it, yet every time he journeyed back there (when he was still healthy enough to do so), he felt reunited in spirit with the love of his life: my grandmother. I also mentioned to Chuck that when my grandfather passed, we would be scattering his ashes in Kauai so they could be together again.
On February 11th, 2014, I happened to be visiting Hawaii with my spouse and so I flew to Hilo to visit Chuck’s house again and chose my wood. We went through a number of sets, and I picked some koa with wild looking “crushed velvet” style curl. I then flew back to meet my spouse in Oahu. When I got back to the hotel in Oahu that night I received a phone call from my mom that my grandfather had passed away that day. I ended up leaving Hawaii early and flying home to be with my family. What had been one of the greatest days in my life turned into one of the saddest as my grandfather and I had been exceptionally close, and never ended a conversation without saying, "I love you more."
My mom and I returned to Kauai a couple of months later to scatter his ashes along the Na Pali coast. It was a particularly windy day, with incredibly large waves splashing up over the bow of the boat. Despite the rough weather and seas, we sailed out to the water opposite the Kalalau Trail lookout and scattered the ashes, reuniting him with my grandmother once again. He was now part of the reason I love Kauai the way I do.
On a lighter note, the build process was a very fun one, with Chuck often sending me photos of the ukuele as it turned from koa boards into a wonderful musical instrument. Some photos were very educational and others put a huge smile on my face, just for the wonderful personalization of the process...case in point, see the inside of my uke.
When I saw the inlay Chuck had created for the first time, it captured that Na Pali coast to me in one image. The green lush cliffs were there, with shimmering water as well. The honu — an image so important to me and symbolic of memories of Hawaii was present front and center, swimming amongst the fish and plants. The lush shades of green that are so present in that island — from Na Pali, to Waimea Canyon, to Mt. Waialeale, they are found on my ukulele.
When I got the final images, I found I particularly loved a couple of the things that were added surprises -- the second little honu swimming by the soundhole, and the bottom of the sea extending onto the fretboard, including the starfish and the seashells. It really feels like a Wyland style painting of the place I love most. And the most striking thing is that instead of paint, Chuck has created this undersea world using cutouts of stone and shell and other materials. He even managed to work my favorite color -- turquoise -- into the strap button! Chuck truly is an artist beyond all compare.
I know every time I look at that ukulele, I will be reminded of a place that I love. And I will be forever indebted to Chuck for making such a beautiful, tangible reminder of memories I shared with two people that meant the world to me.
I named the ukulele “Hui Nani” — beautiful union. It is a union of beauty in both incredible tonal qualities and aesthetic imagery. It is a union of a bit of both luthier and customer — as all custom ukuleles carry a bit of the spirit of both parties. And it is a union between me and a place I love above all others — Kauai, the Garden Isle.
It has only just arrived, so I have only played a couple of quick songs on it. I already appreciate having the side soundport, as it helps to direct the sound upwards to the player. I am about 50% deaf in my right ear and so it is a really nice addition.
I can't believe the finish on the uke. I always liked the Kanile'a UV finish. But this feels so incredibly smooth to the touch -- and it is impeccably applied. Other touches, like the bound fretboard are a nice addition, and the action is at a perfect sweet spot for me in terms of height -- nice and low but no buzz.
I find I really appreciate the turquoise fret marker dots, as they pop on the black ebony wood -- it seems to be a much nicer gauge for me than the smaller, less brightly colored dots on some ukes.
The tone is lovely. It is strung with Southcoast HML-RW strings, which I had been using on my Kamaka for the past few months to get used to the wound string. It has a sweet tone and is a joy to listen to -- well maybe if someone TALENTED was playing it! I can't wait until it opens up, and I plan to play it a lot to get it to that point!
Specs:
Model: 4 string tenor, #1421
Body: 5A master grade koa
Binding: ebony
Purfling: B/Gr/B top and sides
Neck: Spanish cedar (carbon fiber reinforced)
Freboard: ebony, bound with turquoise recon stone markers
Inlay: "Kauai Dream" - recon stone, paua and green abalone shell, brown lip mussel shell, acrylic, Tahitian black pearl shell, corian and magic
Rosette: turquoise recon stone
Tuners: Gotoh UPTL (4:1)
Pickup: LR Baggs 5-0 active
One last note: while Chuck was building my uke, he sent me a series of photographs. I compiled all of them into a video slideshow to memorialize the build process. I want to thank Andrew Kitakis for allowing me to use a couple of his photos with his permission, as I was a dork and did not get a picture of the exterior of Chuck's workshop or the beautiful tree tunnel route to his home myself. I hope that it gives an example of the hard work and lovely output of Chuck Moore and Moore Bettah Ukulele. I hope you enjoy "Making of a Moore Bettah."
One last shot of all my ukes in a row -- welcome to the family Hui Nani.
