The “Pink Palace of the Pacific” has stood on the shores of Waikīkī since 1927, welcoming presidents, royalty, and Hollywood stars since opening its doors. Today, it serves as a symbol of luxury. But long before Waikīkī became an international travel destination, it was once the royal seat of O‘ahu. As such, the grounds and the surf here were off-limits to anyone who was not of ali‘i status.
In the 1600s, during the time of Ali‘i Kakuhihewa, there was a champion fighting rooster that lived in Ka‘au, a large crater in the Pālolo district above Waikīkī. This was no ordinary rooster, however. People said this rooster was a half-man, half-chicken supernatural being often referred to as Ka‘auhelumoa.
According to oral tradition, Ka‘auhelumoa flew down from his home one day and landed in Waikīkī. Furiously scratching the earth, he caught the attention of Kakuhihewa, and then he suddenly vanished. Kakuhihewa took this as an omen and planted niu (coconuts) where the rooster was digging.
The planting proved transformative. Coconut trees were essential to Hawaiians due to their versatility and abundance. Used for food and drink, fiber for ropes, and material for building, the niu appears in numerous chants and legends. Even the water in a young coconut is used for special blessings and ceremonies.
From Kakuhihewa’s initial planting, more than 10,000 coconut trees filled the area, and this grove became known as “Helumoa.”
By the end of the 19th century, Waikīkī no longer served as a center of chiefly power. Its shoreline drew recreation-seekers instead. In March 1898, Colonel George Macfarlane leased a portion of Helumoa to establish a seaside annex to Downtown Honolulu’s Hawaiian Hotel.
He hired laborers to clear and level the land and remove the coconut trees. The workers spent the morning cutting the roots around the trees, then went to lunch. As they were returning from their break, a strong gust of wind shook the trees, which began to sway dangerously. Without roots to stabilize them, the trees were bound to topple over. The men started running when the unthinkable happened.
Flung high into the air by the catapultic motion of the roots of the falling trees was a mass of human bones. As ribs, femurs, and vertebrae flew through the air, something struck one worker in the back with a hard thud. When he turned to see what hit him, he nearly died of fright as an ancient skull stared back at him!
The newspaper reported that there was no way to get the men back to work that day. The only one who returned was the foreman who found an entire skeleton in a sitting position with its arms extended over its head, and another disassembled skeleton nearby.
An elderly woman named Kaohi, a former retainer of Princess Pauahi, said she was born there and still lived nearby. She explained that there used to be a heiau on that spot, and the bodies of Hawaiians slain in battle were buried within its walls.
This information isn’t in their welcome packet. Beneath the bright sun and the gentle sway of palm trees, the Royal Hawaiian hides its spooky shadows well. Hotel staff are professional and discreet, but some admit there have been more than a few strange reports. Quite often, these odd events center around a particular room on the third floor.
Guests have called down to the front desk, confused and frustrated, saying they’re locked out of their room. But when hotel maintenance arrives to assist, the door opens without issue.
Inside, the room looks like every other, immaculate and welcoming, cooled by central air. However, some guests have noted a single cold spot in the room that isn’t near any vents. Even in the warmest months, the chill lingers in that one exact place, as though something cold and invisible is standing there. But the most disturbing reports have nothing to do with malfunctioning doors or strange temperatures. They happen in the dead of night.
Richard and Alice arrived on their first evening in Hawai‘i, eager for rest after a long flight, but by midnight, neither of them could settle enough to fall into a deep sleep. They shifted and turned all night, waking at odd intervals, assuming it was nothing more than travel fatigue.
Alice began to doze off again, only to feel Richard sit up beside her. When she opened her eyes to ask if he was okay, she saw him staring at the foot of the bed. Following his gaze, her breath caught in her throat.
A tall figure stood near the bed, motionless. Although it seemed like a person, its outline was too smooth. There were no facial features or clothing details; it was just a tall person-shaped shadow. Alice squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again. At that exact moment, Richard reached over and clicked on the lamp.
There was no one else in the room.
Their disbelief came first, then the instinct to check the room. The doors, closets, bathroom, and behind the curtains; no one was hiding, and nothing was disturbed. When Richard called security, two guards arrived, scanning for signs of an intruder, but they didn’t find anything either. They suggested the couple just needed rest, that jet lag could play tricks on the mind. But as the guards left, the uneasy memory of a shadowy figure remained.
Richard and Alice aren’t the only people to report strange feelings in their third-floor room. Other guests have described restless nights, tossing, turning, and waking from vivid nightmares. At first, they, too, chalk it up to jet lag. But when they roll over and open their eyes, they find a dark silhouette standing next to the bed. Always the same description: a tall, unmoving shadow person. A figure without features, standing just a little too close.
The Royal Hawaiian is one of the oldest hotels in Hawai‘i still in operation. Its walls have seen celebrations, heartbreak, war, and wealth. Some wonder if this shadow belongs to someone from the hotel’s early days who never checked out. Others think it belongs to someone who was there long before the hotel was built.
In Hawai‘i, not all ghosts are vengeful or malevolent. Some are simply lost. Some are protectors. Others are bound to a place, unable — or unwilling — to leave. Whatever presence resides in that room at the Royal Hawaiian, it doesn’t appear to mean harm. But it does want to be noticed.
The next time you stroll past the Pink Palace, stop for a minute to admire its elegance and take in its history. And if you ever stay there… don’t forget to leave the light on.
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