Prior to Western contact, the Waiākea Peninsula at the edge of Hilo Bay sustained a thriving Hawaiian community for generations. As Hilo gradually developed into an important port for the sandalwood trade, supply replenishment, and the whaling industry, the area began to change.
Although the traditional stewardship of the ʻaina ensured the loʻi kalo (taro fields) and the loko iʻa (fishponds) continued to provide food for the area, the peninsula slowly took on a different purpose. Then, the introduction of private ownership through the Great Mahele of 1848 forever changed how Waiākea would be managed.
With the expansion of Hilo Harbor, the wetlands were drained, and fishponds fell into disuse. To accommodate larger ships, the bay was dredged, and the fill from the bay was used to create new land along the shoreline. Ancient canoe landings disappeared beneath that newly created land, and much of the ceremonial landscape surrounding Kūakaʻananuʻu Heiau was erased. Roads, homes, and public buildings gradually spread across the shoreline, covering many of the features that had defined Waiākea for centuries.
Due to the harborʻs continued growth and change, today’s shoreline bears little resemblance to the one that greeted the first Western merchant vessels. During the early 1900s, a new public park was created to honor the last reigning monarch. Liliʻuokalani Gardens, with its walking paths, decorative bridges, and ornamental gardens replaced the loʻi kalo and loko iʻa, creating a space where residents and visitors could enjoy the shores of Hilo Bay.
In 1933, the Hilo Parks Commission invited director Cecil B. DeMille and other celebrities from the film "Four Frightened People" to plant banyan trees along a new roadway. Later that year, Babe Ruth planted a tree, and the road was formally designated the following year in time for a visit from President Franklin D. Roosevelt, who planted his own tree. Over time, nearly 50 trees were planted by aviators, entertainers, politicians, and other notable visitors, and the Banyan Drive became known as “Hilo’s Walk of Fame.” In 1939, the Naniloa Hotel opened its doors on the site of a former yacht club, welcoming visitors to its tranquil location by the sea.
Like the rest of Hilo, the Waiākea Peninsula has had to face the destructive power of the sea. Tsunamis in 1946 and 1960 devastated the coast, destroying homes, businesses, and facilities along the waterfront. While many of the banyan trees survived, a new infrastructure once again reshaped the landscape and Banyan Drive soon became the center of Hilo’s visitor industry.
By the 1970s, Banyan Drive was already established as the center of Hilo’s visitor industry. The Naniloa and the new Hilo Hawaiian, along with other new hotels, welcomed travelers from around the world, while nearby golf courses, parks, and public spaces drew both residents and visitors to the bay.
Although centuries of development had transformed nearly every part of the peninsula, places like Mokuola (Coconut Island) continued to preserve a connection to an older Hawaiʻi. The landscape may look different from the days of loʻi kalo, loko iʻa, and Kūakaʻananuʻu Heiau, but its mana cannot be erased.
Perhaps that is why, despite decades of change, stories continue to emerge from Banyan Drive, describing experiences that seem to be connected to a long-lost past. Former staff have mentioned doors of empty rooms rattling for no reason, and housekeeping staff talk of the water faucets in one of the rooms turning on by itself.
However, the scariest stories are the ones about a group of visitors who turn up during specific moon phases, without reservations. One security guard said it starts with the sound of drums. It’s distant, but the sound is a consistent beat that doesn’t change like modern music. As the drums get louder, a mist appears on the building’s mauka side and moves through the wall and the hotel rooms, exiting through the wall on the opposite end of the building on their way to the ocean.
“I know it’s not my imagination,” he said. “The lights dim and flicker, pictures on the wall shake or fall to the floor, sometimes the furniture moves.”
The guard said that the employees at the hotel know to make themselves scarce during that time, but no one really talks about it with each other.
The authors can be reached at hawaii.mysteries@gmail.com
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