The story
As you sit there adjusting your pegs, listen closely to the peculiar logic of the four strings under your fingers. Most instruments follow a predictable path, with the strings getting deeper and heavier as you move your thumb upward. But the ukulele is a bit of a rebel. When you pluck that top string, the G, you’ll notice it’s actually higher in pitch than the C string resting just below it. In music theory, we call this re-entrant tuning, but most people know it by the sing-song rhythm of its famous mnemonic: My dog has fleas.
That little skip in the tuning, where the notes don't just go up or down but circle back on themselves, is the secret to the ukulele’s sunny personality. Because the notes are all packed into a narrow range, strumming doesn’t create a ladder of sound; it creates a shimmering block of color. It’s a design that feels less like a serious machine and more like a happy accident, though its history is quite deliberate.
This sound traveled a long way to reach you. In the late summer of 1879, a ship called the Ravenscrag arrived in Honolulu after a four-month journey from the island of Madeira. On board were Portuguese immigrants who brought with them their traditions and their instruments, specifically the four-stringed machete and the five-stringed rajão. The story goes that when the passengers finally stepped ashore, they celebrated with music, and the Hawaiian people were immediately enchanted by the fast, light sound of these small wooden instruments.
One man who famously fell in love with the sound was King David Kalākaua, the Merrie Monarch. He saw the instrument as a way to blend modern influences with Hawaiian culture, and he even learned to play it himself. The name ukulele is often translated as jumping flea, and while some say it refers to the way a player’s fingers fly across the fretboard, others believe it was a nickname for a particularly energetic British officer at the royal court.
By the time the Panama-Pacific International Exposition opened in San Francisco in 1915, the world was ready for something portable and joyful. The Hawaiian pavilion was a massive hit, and soon the ukulele swept across the American mainland, becoming the soundtrack of the jazz age. While some modern players prefer a Low-G tuning for a wider range of notes, the classic re-entrant tuning remains the heart of the instrument. It’s what gives it that unmistakable, weightless chime.
Before you move on to your next song, try one small thing. Place just one finger on the third fret of the bottom string, that’s the A string. This is a C major chord. Give it a slow, gentle strum and notice how the notes don’t seem to have a top or a bottom, but rather hang together in the air like a single, bright bell.