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ASD Staff

WEB square crop Hayley Lehman Headshot RGZ1636

Haley Lehman

Kelsey Kukaua Medeiros Headshot

Kelsey Kukaua Medeiros

Letters to the Editor

Higa headshot white shirt square

Sterling Higa

Columnists

A new documentary illustrates confusion about Native Hawaiian culture. 

 is produced by Science and Nonduality, a nonprofit that promotes new age spirituality.

The documentary features interviews interspersed with nature b-roll. Picture lava-lit volcanoes, windswept vistas, and the vast ocean. The filmmakers make ample use of the pull-back reveal shot, where a camera zooms out from a person to reveal their context.

The star of the documentary is William Iaukea. Iaukea is billed as a healer and storyteller. His words open and close the documentary, with interview footage threaded throughout.

At the beginning of the film, Iaukea advances a creation myth that does not match Native Hawaiian oral legends. In Iaukea’s telling, the Hawaiian people were gods, co-creators of “a perfect place in the middle of nowhere.” Once the world is formed, they decide to take on flesh and blood to live in the world.

Later in the film, Iaukea advances his own definition of pono. “Pono is as it should be — no right, no wrong, no yes, no is/is not,” says Iaukea. “The old people growing up with that language, using that word, they were able to manipulate the language to make it stronger or not as strong — to make it mean something that will be medicine for others.”

At the end of the film, Iaukea tells viewers to call on their ancestors. “You are so connected to those that came before you. Trust them. If you call, they will come.”

Between Iaukea’s creation myth and his call to summon the ancestors, the documentary takes a few turns.

First, it features Keanu Sai, a Hawaiian sovereignty activist who 

 to serve as “Acting Minister of the Interior and Acting Minister of Foreign Affairs ad interim for the Council of Regency of the Hawaiian Kingdom.” Sai is called to recite the history of the overthrow and annexation.

This sets up the film’s real subject: the trauma of the Hawaiian people, traced to the overthrow and American colonization. Those interviewed claim that the trauma manifests as poverty, addiction, violence, and self-harm.

The film profiles a few organizations seeking to treat that trauma. One is Humanity Hale, a nonprofit that bills itself as offering “trauma-informed support programs for Hawaiʻi Island youth.”

In the documentary, a Humanity Hale staff member, Kim Brown, recounts her childhood discovery that she was gay. “I grew up hating myself because I went to church,” she says, “when in actuality in my culture we were celebrated.” Brown recounts feeling depressed and lonely and says she turned to heavy drinking and “reverted to other things to fill the void of who I was.”

Brown’s interview is dubbed over her sitting on a beach and holding hands with Charis Higginson, the executive director of Humanity Hale. In another scene, Higginson wears an om pendant on her necklace as she leads a group of adolescents in a sharing circle, where they share their trauma. At one point, Higginson breaks out in tears as a participant shares their story.

Another girl, interviewed alone, begins to tell her story of childhood abuse. She breaks down halfway through the interview, “I can’t do this.” Higginson rushes in from off camera to comfort her, telling her that “your story is going to help so many people. I love you. I’m really proud of you.”

“Self-love is at the center of everything that we do,” says Higginson. “If you don’t have a relationship with yourself that’s healthy and that’s strong, you don’t have the capacity for anything else.”

At one point, Ilima-Lei Macfarlane, an MMA fighter, shows up to provide self-defense training for the young women at Humanity Hale. At another point, Iaukea arrives to teach a lesson. He comments on a girl that ran out into the rain to dance: “It was her connecting with the spirit inside of herself that wanted to dance, that wanted to be in the rain. And she danced in the rain. That was so beautiful.”

, Higginson made $120,000 as executive director, against $141,567 in revenue. 

, the nonprofit announced a three-year, $500,000 grant from the Office of Hawaiian Affairs to support “a multi-faceted healing program for Native Hawaiian at-risk and foster youth and those facing complex trauma.” In September this year, the nonprofit said it had raised 

 toward land acquisition for a transitional housing village for youth leaving foster care, with 16 tiny homes planned.

Another organization treating trauma is Men of PAʻA, an “ʻāina-based recovery” program for formerly incarcerated men. The program blends spiritual healing with community service and vocational training.

Its participants seem chastened, though their testimonies are filtered through the language of self: “After we heal, after we get right with self, after we get right with family, beautiful things start happening.”

The end of the film features interviews with hula and chant practitioners, who share quotes that owe more to new age spirituality than to the traditional Hawaiian worldview.

Science and Nonduality is a group that finds parallels between ancient shamanic healing rituals and recent discoveries in quantum physics. In recent years, they’ve taken an interest in indigenous approaches to treating trauma, hence their visit to Hawaiʻi.

The film selects soundbites that fit into a new age, vaguely gnostic view of reality. But it downplays the contradictions between worldviews.

For Iaukea, the Native Hawaiians are co-creators of the cosmos. “We move with the creation energy to create all things above the earth, on the earth, and below.” What it is to be Hawaiian is to “believe in your ancestors’ wisdom and the strength that is handed down generation to generation.”

 a few years ago, Iaukea said that self-worship was the ancient way of his people before Tahitians arrived and imposed their temple system and idol worship. “For them, for the first people, sacredness of things was that which was in you. God inside, so to speak,” he said. “Everything external, everything outside was just the way of the earth.”

Because the documentary is filtered through Iaukea’s gnostic worldview, it has no room to express the actual Native Hawaiian religion, which was a complex polytheistic system involving rigid boundaries between the sexes, cultic worship, and human sacrifice. Native Hawaiian religion is reduced to a few forms of cultural expression: hula and chant.

Because the documentary is generally hostile toward Western culture, it has no room for the mass conversions of Native Hawaiians to Christianity, nor for Hawaiian chiefs like Keōpūolani asking for baptism. It has nowhere to put the 1840 Constitution of the Hawaiian Kingdom, which committed the kingdom to the Christian God.

For the filmmakers, Native Hawaiians are an interchangeable people group. They are yet another colonized people who must reclaim “indigenous knowledge,” insofar as that indigenous knowledge is identical with the new age beliefs found in a Northern California yoga studio.

There is no room for the triune God who created all things and now commands all people everywhere to repent and believe in Jesus Christ.

The people of the Hawaiian Kingdom worshipped Him. The film’s gnostics and pantheists agree on little, except to reject Him.

View of the west side mountains

<title>The ancestors in “Kupuna ʻĀina” are not the ones who lived here</title>

A “healer” tells the camera that Hawaiians were gods who chose to take on flesh, and a nonprofit director wearing an om pendant leads foster kids in a trauma circle. ASD opinion columnist Sterling Higa on how a new documentary swaps the faith of the Hawaiian Kingdom for the spirituality of a Northern California yoga studio.

The ancestors in “Kupuna ʻĀina” are not the ones who lived here

Kelli Shiroma Braiotta Headshot

Kelli Shiroma Braiotta

Food & Dining

Thanksgiving is coming up on Thursday, Nov. 26. Whether you’re dining out or looking for an at-home feast, check out the following options:

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"100 Sails Restaurant & Bar"}]

: The Thanksgiving dinner buffet costs $109 per adult ($54.50 per child ages 6 to 10 years old). Highlights include kiawe-smoked prime rib that’s carved to order, kiawe smoked brisket, ‘ahi poke, assorted sashimi, snow crab legs, salt and pepper shrimp, caramelized mushroom linguini, roasted turkey leg and turkey breast, holiday stuffing, temaki sushi, Prince bread pudding, pumpkin crunch haupia crunch pie and more.

The brunch buffet costs $111 per adult ($55.50 per child ages 6 to 10 years old). It includes many of the featured dinner buffet offerings — including kiawe-smoked prime rib, kiawe smoked brisket, roasted turkey leg and turkey breast — but also includes breakfast offerings like Prince fried rice, a waffle station and an omelet station.

: Dinner buffet 5 to 9:30 p.m. Nov. 26-29; brunch buffet 9 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. Nov. 26

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"53 By the Sea"}]

: 53 By the Sea’s Thanksgiving take home packages are available for pre-order online and via phone.

The standard Thanksgiving dinner set ($250) is designed to feed four people and includes:

The deluxe Thanksgiving dinner set ($750) is designed to feed eight people and includes:

: In-person pick-ups from 8 a.m. to noon on Nov. 26

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"C4 Table by Colin Hazama"}]

: fishcake Honolulu, 307C Kamani St., Honolulu 

: C4 Table’s Thanksgiving holiday menu ($370) is designed to serve four to six people. It includes:

: Pick-up from 2:30 to 5:30 p.m. Wednesday, Nov. 25 at fishcake Honolulu 

: Email pre-order with name (first and last), telephone contact number, number of meals/additional sides, and preferred pick-up time slot to 

: Chart House Waikīkī’s traditional turkey dinner ($65) includes butter and sage roasted turkey, savory cornbread stuffing, mashed or baked sweet potato with rum butter, pan gravy, creamed spinach and cranberry relish. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Hy’s Steak House"}]

: This Thanksgiving ‘ohana feast to-go ($585) is designed to serve eight to 10 people. It includes:

: This special Thanksgiving dinner ($40) includes butter herb roasted turkey, homemade stuffing, mashed potatoes, turkey gravy, green bean casserole, candied yams with toasted marshmallow, grilled corn on the cob and a dinner roll. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Merriman’s Honolulu"}]

: This Thanksgiving prix fixe menu costs $140 per person ($45 for children ages 12 years and younger). It includes:

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"MW Restaurant"}]

: This Thanksgiving family feast ($725) is designed to feed six to eight people. It includes:

Pre-orders must be placed by Tuesday, Nov. 24.

: Pick-up from 10 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. Nov. 26

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Plumeria Beach House"}]

: The all-you-can-eat Thanksgiving buffets will include a carving station, chef specialties and a variety of desserts. They cost $145 per adult ($55 per child ages 6 to 12 years). 

: Nov. 26, brunch buffet 10 a.m. to 1:30 p.m.; dinner buffet 3 to 8 p.m. 

: This Thanksgiving package ($285.95) is designed to feed four to six people. It includes sliced roast turkey, turkey gravy, housemade stuffing, pineapple-glazed ham, garlic mashed potatoes, spicy ‘ahi on sushi rice, fresh cranberry sauce, and pumpkin crunch squares.

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"The Buffet at Hyatt"}]

: Hyatt Regency Waikīkī Beach Resort & Spa, 

: This Island-inspired Thanksgiving buffet costs $110 per person (50% off for children ages 6 to 12 years, $5.99 for children ages 5 years and under).

[{"type":"text","text":"Buffet highlights include:"}]

discount is not valid for holiday menus. 

The Royal Hawaiian, a Luxury Collection Resort, Waik

: This Thanksgiving takeout feast ($595) is designed to serve eight to 10 people.

: Pick-up from 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. on Nov. 26.

Upon arrival, guests should pull into The Royal Hawaiian porte cochere (valet) and check in with the team; staff members will bring your Thanksgiving feast directly to you. 

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Umi by Vikram Garg"}]

: Halepuna Waikīkī by Halekūlani, 2233 Helumoa Road, Honolulu 

: This special Thanksgiving dinner features a three-course ($110 per person) or four-course ($150 per person) menu.

The three-course menu features a soup or pasta (premium upgrade optional), main course and dessert; an optional wine pairing ($50) is available. The four-course menu includes an appetizer (premium upgrade available), soup or pasta (premium upgrade available), main course and dessert; an optional wine pairing ($70) is available.

[{"type":"text","text":"Featured dishes include:"}]

[{"type":"text","marks":[{"type":"textStyle"},{"type":"bold"}],"text":"Zippy’s Restaurants"}]

: Zippy’s is offering a variety of Thanksgiving packages to choose from:

[{"type":"text","text":"Whole turkey package, $214.95; serves eight to 10 people"}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Half turkey package, $124.95; serves four people"}]

[{"type":"text","text":"Whole turkey only, $95.95; serves eight to 10 people"}]

: Pick-up Wednesday Nov. 25 or Thursday, Nov. 26

Thanskgiving 2026 Zippys 102826

<title>Where to go for Thanksgiving 2026 – part 1</title>

Where to go for Thanksgiving 2026 – part 1

Lopaka and Tanya Kapanui

Lopaka Kapanui and Tanya Kapanui

Hawai‘i History

After collecting spooky stories for more than 25 years, it’s interesting to note that a ghost story from Japan is one of the most popular tales in Hawai‘i. But how did it get here, you ask?

In the late 1800s, the first contract laborers from Japan began arriving in Hawai‘i to work on the sugar and pineapple plantations. Later, the influx of immigrants from Japan, China, the Philippines, Korea, and Portugal, particularly during the Hawai‘i plantation era, resulted in a unique interethnic society. Thni-evirdehTe settlers brought with them their families, food, culture, and sense of community. They also brought their religions, superstitions, and ghosts.

Yōkai are a class of supernatural beings deeply rooted in Japanese spiritual traditions. Although there are a number of different expressions for ghosts, spirits, and monsters in the Japanese language, the modern use of the term “yōkai” in Hawai‘i and the Western world has come to represent a broad category of various supernatural entities.

The legend of the faceless ghost, known as noppera-bō in Japan, is a yōkai that resembles a human with no face. The creature is often mistaken for mujina, the badger or tanuki (raccoon dog) ghosts, who are shapeshifters and often appear as noppera-bō. Mujina are tricksters said to enjoy tormenting wicked people.

The true noppera-bō is an entity that looks like a regular person but has no face. They are usually harmless and are primarily known for frightening people. In some legends, the noppera-bō appears as an ordinary human being before its eyes, nose, and mouth disappear, leaving a blank sheet of skin where its face should be. When this yōkai touches the face of an unsuspecting victim, the victim’s facial features disappear, causing them to become noppera-bō.

Over the years, Hawai‘i has had its own sightings of the faceless ghost in places like the Waiākea Villas in Hilo, an intermediate school in Kailua, and the Moanalua school campus.

In May 1959, several children at a middle school in Pālolo told their parents about a faceless woman roaming the halls. The rumors spread quickly to other students and faculty, and the police department received frantic calls from parents to investigate. The principal at the time stated that the stories must have been greatly exaggerated by the students and asked for the parents’ help dispelling the rumors.

Just four days later, a newspaper editorial described sightings of a faceless woman at the Wai‘alae Drive-In Theatre in Kaimukī.

According to one version, a young woman entered the restroom around midnight to put on fresh lipstick. In the mirror, she saw a figure behind her with half a body, long hair, and no face. She turned around quickly, but no one was there. The restroom door slammed shut by itself and locked. The girl screamed and fainted, ending up in the hospital.

Another story states that a woman went to the restroom and noticed someone standing in front of the mirror, combing her long, black hair. The woman moved closer to the hair-brushing stranger and spoke to her. The person in front of the mirror turned slightly toward the woman. She had no face. The woman was so frightened, she ended up in the hospital with a nervous breakdown.

As most people know, the drive-in used to sit next to the Kāhala Cemetery, also known as Ocean View Cemetery. According to a map published in 1929, the cemetery stretched from where it is now, all the way to where 20th Avenue met Hoku Avenue before the Lunalilo Freeway was built. At some point, the burial grounds were cut in half, and the theater was built on the ‘Ewa side of the lot. Today, a storage facility sits atop the old drive-in site, and there are houses along the mauka and ‘Ewa borders, but the rest of the cemetery is still there.

As for the faceless ghost, she hasn’t disappeared with the theater. She’s reportedly been seen several times just across the street. People claim to have encountered her in the mall bathroom and the aisles of a nearby grocery store.

A person approached me about a crazy incident in the shoe section of a department store in that mall. It was the start of a sale, and the department was filled with shoppers looking for deals on the clearance rack that had been marked down again. But suddenly, people started dropping their shoes on the floor and leaving the area, as if they were avoiding something.

The store employee went to check it out and saw a strange woman in a red dress with long, black hair, grabbing shoes off the racks with one hand and piling them onto her arm. She was creating a mess as boxes and shoes fell to the floor. The woman’s body seemed to be shaking with tension.

The saleswoman approached the lady from behind and called out, “Excuse me?”

The stranger didn’t acknowledge the saleswoman, so she called out again, louder this time. Suddenly, the strange lady froze, holding an empty shoebox in her hand. She crumpled the box like it was a piece of paper, let out a horrible scream, and then threw the shoes she was holding to the ground.

The saleswoman said that when the lady in the red dress turned around, she had no face.

“I left,” she said, “I didn’t go upstairs to clock out. I didn’t even talk to my manager. I just left. There’s no way I’d ever go back in that store.”

[{"type":"text","text":"Have you seen the faceless woman?"}]

Waialae Public Storage

<title>The Faceless Woman of Wai‘alae</title>

The drive-in theatre on Wai‘alae Avenue may be gone, but the famous faceless ghost that haunted it is not — in fact, she's been spotted across the street at the mall.

The Faceless Woman of Wai‘alae

Ed Rampell

Arts & Entertainment

Hawai’i comedian Frank De Lima made a triumphant return to Los Angeles appearing before a sold-out crowd of mostly transplanted 

Taking the stage at the Nakaoka Community Center in the suburb of Gardena, De Lima told the 200 Aloha shirt-clad fans that he first began playing at L.A. venues “in the late 70s at the Kono Hawai’i Restaurant and showrooms such as the East West Lounge; in the early 80s at the Long Beach Airport Holiday Inn; then at the Torrance Airport Holiday Inn; and in the early 90s at the Normandie Casino.”

This was De Lima’s first live show in L.A. in 20 years 

 and what a show it was! For about 90-minutes Hawai’i’s clown prince performed “Uncle Frank’s” greatest hits, cracking jokes with his trademark ethnic humor and singing fractured melodies with “Hawaiian-ized” lyrics set to popular tunes, wearing goofy costumes poking fun at a variety of kooky characters. The slimmed down De Lima, who has shed more than 100 pounds for health reasons, climbed into a sumo wrestler fat suit, dancing and singing as he spoofed the traditional Japanese sport.

Changing into customary Chinese garb and playing off of the stereotype of Chinese people supposedly being tight with money, De Lima portrayed the host of a zany version of the TV game show "Who Wants to Be a Millionaire" that he renamed "Who Wants to be a Five Dollar-aire," inviting members of the audience to join him on stage to answer wacky questions at only one dollar per point.

In another vignette De Lima donned a shaggy black wig and sunglasses to portray a tipsy Don Ho slurring his words through a barely intelligible version of “Tiny Bubbles,” accompanied by recorded music. Of course, De Lima’s piece de resistance is his takedown of Imelda Marcos while wearing a puffy-sleeved Filipiniana dress and another more manicured black wig. Satirizing the Philippines’ overthrown former First Lady, who had to flee with her husband President Ferdinand Marcos from Manila to Makiki, De Lima changed the lyrics of the "Chorus Line"

song “What I Did for Love” to “Kiss my shoes goodbye.” Although the crowd-pleasing comic told me in an interview that he generally stays clear of political humor to avoid alienating and polarizing audiences, De Lima’s Imelda is comparable to Charlie Chaplin’s mockery of Hitler in the 1940 classic movie, "The Great Dictator."   

As is De Lima’s wont, the equal opportunity court jester 

 who says his “chop suey” lineage includes “Irish-Scotch-English-Spanish-French-Portuguese-Chinese-Hawaiian” 

 made fun of all of multi-culti Hawai’i’s nationalities, sparing none, including the group he told me in an interview that he identified with most: the Portuguese. The former seminarian joked that: “The Jews think they’re the chosen people because they wandered around the desert for 40 years. But we Pawdagees can’t find our way home every night!” As for Haoles attending his show, De Lima quipped that they probably didn’t understand anything he was talking about.

Native Hawaiians, too, came in for some ribbing from the part-Hawaiian De Lima, especially in his act’s grand finale: A knee slapping, pidgin English, “kanak to da max” rendition of Kenny Rogers’ Country Western hit “Lucille,” hilariously re-set in “One bar in Kalihi.” With the Gardena throng shouting “hana hou!”, De Lima’s encore caused the extended event to go into overtime, if not overdrive.

Throughout his trip down comedy memory lane, De Lima was also interweaving his personal reminisces of and ruminations about growing up in Pauoa Valley, attending Chaminade and his ultimately unfulfilled aspiration to become a priest. (Religion’s loss is comedy’s gain – only God can decide who is better off for this turn of events?) Remembering the 16 homes on his block with eight different nationalities, De Lima mused onstage: “So much culture, so much idiosyncrasies, so much phraseologies in a little boy’s head … I was ‘Mr. Question Mark,’ I wanted to learn different stuff … I had a special gift from God: Daydreaming,” Frank shared frankly with the spectators, many of whom have been his fans for decades. At the end of his gig, lei maker Lamme' Malunao walked onstage and draped a ti leaf lei around De Lima’s neck.

The Hawai’i comedy legend, who is now semi-retired and living in 

, was brought to L.A. by promoter and podcaster Kamaka Brown, who was born and raised on O‘ahu’s North Shore, and presented the Gardena fundraiser for “the Sandwich Islands Social Network, a group of dedicated volunteers serving to reconnect Hawaiians and Hawaiians-at-heart with the spirit of Aloha. SISN produces media content and live events that entertain, educate and inspire the Southern California community,” according to Brown, who now lives at Simi Valley. Also a stand-up comic and senior citizen, Brown opened for De Lima at what he called the “Jurassic Unkoz” (or Uncles) act, which periodically included what the punster called a “Hawaiian T-Rex” prancing about onstage in a dinosaur costume. (Of course, several of the "Jurassic Park"

movies were filmed at O‘ahu’s Kualoa Ranch and on Kaua’i.)

Inside the spacious Nakaoka Community Center, the Ho’olina Foundation did brisk business selling BBQ pork manapuas and spam musubi. Another table featured Frank De Lima merch for sale, including DVDs, CDs and T-shirts featuring the comedian’s smiling face with the words: “Pawdagee Head Quadas.”

Among the audience of mostly local people now calling SoCal home was Janice Remland, who said she was Portuguese, grew up in public housing at Honolulu’s 

 and attended McKinley High School. “When I was 18-years-old I saw Frank and I thought his Imelda was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. … It made me decide to become a comedian,” gushed Remland, who stated she’d performed at California clubs such as the Comedy Store.       

Referring to De Lima’s ethnic humor, Remland added, “We have to be careful doing comedy nowadays” out of fear of being “canceled,” due to jokes some may regard as offensive. “It’s refreshing to go back to comedy that celebrates nationalities. … I loved Frank’s show! It brought back some characters. Awesome!” 

She agreed that De Lima gets away with his gentle spoofing of Hawai’i’s different ethnicities because it’s always done lovingly, in a good-natured way,  never mean spirited.   

For fans back in the Islands who miss De Lima since he moved to Las Vegas in January 2025, the good news is that he’s returning for the “Celebration of Laughs Tour” with Andy Bumatai and Augie T on Nov. 20 at the Kahilu Theatre in Waimea, 

; and Nov. 22 at the Maui Arts & Cultural Center in Kahului, 

During his Gardena gig De Lima candidly shared observations about the aging process, but having never lost that innocent inner child observing the world from his Pauoa Valley doorstep, Frank De Lima is now 77 going on seven, and a good fun time was had by all at his L.A. comeback show.

ASD Frankas Don Ho

<title>'Wow Laulau': Frank De Lima returns to L.A. after 20 years</title>

At De Lima’s first live show in Los Angeles in two decades, Hawai’i’s clown prince performed “Uncle Frank’s” greatest hits, cracking jokes with his trademark ethnic humor and singing fractured melodies with Hawaiian-style lyrics set to popular tunes, wearing goofy costumes poking fun at a variety of kooky characters. ICYMI: He'll be back in the Islands next month for the “Celebration of Laughs Tour” with Andy Bumatai and Augie T.

'Wow Laulau': Frank De Lima returns to L.A. after 20 years

Square Mike Brestovansky Headshot RGZ3736 Large

Michael Brestovansky

Government & Politics

[{"type":"text","text":"About 70,000 cubic yards of sand is coming to Ala Moana Beach Park."}]

The Hawai‘i Board of Land and Natural Resources unanimously approved last Friday a $7.4 million 

 to restore the beach at Ala Moana Regional Park, which has diminished through erosion over the decades.

The project would be funded through the state’s newly implemented Green Fee, the increase in the state’s Transient Accommodations Tax that went into effect at the start of this year.

Under the terms of a memorandum of understanding between the state Department of Land and Natural Resources and the City and County of Honolulu approved by the BLNR Friday, the project would dredge up to 70,000 cubic yards of sand from offshore and deposit it along the Ala Moana shoreline.

At a one-foot depth, 70,000 cubic yards of sand could cover about 43 acres.

Laura Thielen, Director of the Honolulu Department of Parks and Recreation, explained to the BLNR on Friday that the sand replenishment project had been developed and planned years ago, with permitting completed in 2021. But when the Covid pandemic struck that year, funds that had been set aside for the project were diverted for various pandemic response projects. Subsequently, she said, her department lacked the cash to revisit the beach replenishment, hence the need for Green Fee funds.

Thielen said that, while the Ala Moana Regional Park is a county park, the City and County of Honolulu cannot spend bond money to restore the beach itself, “because the city does not have the title to the underlying property, just like you can’t get a mortgage on somebody else’s house.”

Under the original terms of the 2021 Conservation District Use Permit for the project, the City has until February 2030 to complete the project. Should the cost of the project exceed the $7.4 million in Green Fee funds, the City and County is under no obligation to spend additional county funds, and can simply reduce the project’s scope or terminate it.

Once the project is completed, the City will remain responsible for the beach’s maintenance.

Ala Moana Regional Park

<title>More sand coming to Ala Moana Beach Park</title>

BLNR approves a $7.4 million project to deposit 70,000 cubic yards of ocean-dredged sand across the depleted Ala Moana shoreline.

More sand coming to Ala Moana Beach Park

De Soto 2025

DeSoto Brown

What happened to Waikīkī? Specifically, what happened to Waikīkī during its greatest period of change that began in the 1950s? Let’s look at these “then & now” comparisons of Waikīkī views to see very clearly how different things look today.

Why did Waikīkī change so much in the last 70 years? The growth of tourism, of course, was responsible. Speaking economically, it’s extremely fortunate that tourism did increase so dramatically during this period as it served to fill in the gap created as large-scale agriculture (sugar and pineapple) either contracted dramatically, or died altogether. These had been the foundation of the economy of the Hawaiian Islands but were outcompeted by other tropical countries, where workers were paid considerably less and thus their agricultural products were cheaper as well. This has been, and continues to be, the reason for the loss of domestic production in the United States and indeed worldwide.

When did Waikīkī's major changes begin? This is easy to pinpoint: it was the year 1955. That was when four new 10-story buildings were completed here; the Waikīkī Biltmore Hotel, the Princess Ka‘iulani Hotel, the Reef Hotel, and the Rosalei apartments. As insignificant as this would seem today, it marked a shift away from downtown as the focus of new construction, as well as starting Honolulu on its vertical growth.

We can also single out the shift in transportation for Waikīkī's increase in density, which was the replacement of cruise ships by airplanes for increasing numbers of tourists after World War II. While air travel grew significantly during the 1950s it was really the introduction of jets that kicked off the explosion. The first jets arrived in Hawai‘i in 1959, cutting hours from the trip from the west coast, carrying far more passengers on each flight compared to propeller planes and — most significantly — reducing air fares. Waikīkī couldn’t help but grow to accommodate all these new people. A major milestone was unexpectedly realized in late 1967 when the one-millionth tourist arrived for that year, ahead of what economists had predicted. There would be no looking back.

A change you might notice in these various pairs of Waikīkī views is the great increase in growing green vegetation today. This has been true in many parts of Honolulu and because trees increase so slowly in size, we don’t notice how large they’ve become until we see an older photo to be able to spot the difference. Kalākaua Avenue has benefitted from more than one improvement project since the 1960s, to where today’s sidewalks are paved with hand-set stones, many with inscriptions in Hawaiian. Shady shower trees along with grass and various shrubs greatly enhance the district’s appearance, and maintenance workers are on the job each day to sweep and clean. Waikīkī creates the biggest part of the income from tourism and its importance in keeping this income steady was recognized years ago — so this necessary work goes on.

By the late 1970s much of Waikīkī looked as it does today, because while more towers have certainly been constructed since then, much of what we know now was in place. Although Waikīkī has been a crowded and densely urbanized district for decades, and has been criticized for that, it must be said that a great many visitors enjoy this vitality and the over-abundance of things to see and do. And even while Waikīkī is undeniably a city of itself, it is still located on the magnificently blue Pacific Ocean, with the Ko‘olau Mountains as one backdrop and Diamond Head as another, with the trade winds often blowing through it. And love it or hate it, we owe our economy to it, and had therefore better make sure it continues to function as smoothly as possible.

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<title>What happened to Waikīkī?</title>

Back in the Statehood era, you could see Punchbowl from Kalākaua Avenue and Diamond Head from Kūhiō Avenue. ASD history columnist DeSoto Brown pairs then-and-now photos to show the dramatic changes from a low-rise Waikīkī to today's bustling mini-metropolis.

What happened to Waikīkī?

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