The view from our room at the Four Seasons Resort, Lana'i at Manele Bay
On my recent trip to Lānaʻi, I was amazed by the differences between the two big-ticket resorts on this tiny Hawaiian island.
Just a 20-minute drive from each other, the Four Seasons Resort, Lānaʻi at Manele Bay and the Four Seasons Resort Lānaʻi, The Lodge at Koele are like separate worlds — albeit each with frondy gardens, romantic diversions and sexy cocktails. Offering rocky cliffs overlooking the Pacific on one side of the island and dreamy-grey skies and ranch land on the other, I can’t imagine a trip to Lānaʻi without a stay at both.
If a stay by the sea is your cup of tea, though — whoo boy, do I have a resort for you.
By the time Adam and I had neared the bottom of a long, winding, dry-grassy hill and glimpsed the palatial sweep of the Manele Bay’s entrance, we were already surprised. The landscape looked more like Southern California than what we’d come to think of (on O’ahu, Mau’i and the Big Island) as Hawaii. But once actual Hawaiian folks started approaching with smiles and kukui nuts leis, we racked focus on our sense of place.
The frangipani flowers, the intricate murals of sea life, the tiki torches, the graceful Asian art and gardens…the macadamia nut French toast…it’s all part of the resort’s well-brushed Polynesian experience. There’s no shortage of romance and luxury here (even Bill Gates chose it as his wedding site, for Pete’s sake), and there were times we felt like we were wafting across a Shangri-La stage set.
But it’s the bay itself that feels most Hawaiian of all: when sunshine hits the white-sand bottom, you’re swimming through a dragon’s eye, floating above bright corals and a shimmer of fish you can’t possibly have seen before. Almost every morning, a pod of spinner dolphins comes here to leap and splash at the far end, and every day, the beach is open to the whole island. All you have to do to feel connected to Lānaʻi’s local community is wander down a graded path and put your feet in the sand.
Early one morning, we skirted the bay’s entire shore, tidepooling along the way. Even with my grippy water shoes this was a slippery pursuit, but (almost) worth the tip-toeing to see tiny, wet worlds at work. Taking our first opportunity to climb to the stable, dry path above, we briefly trekked up a switchback to the island’s famous Sweetheart Rock. Below us was a sliver of all-yours-if-you-can-get-there Shark’s Cove, the Pacific blending from teal to turquoise. We sat down on a big red rock, turned our faces into the warming sun, and decided that herein lay a happy place.
Back over at the resort, I grabbed a handful of lychees from glass containers above the buffet (while a fellow guest looked at me askance, convinced I was stealing resort decorations) and we lounged around the best pool on Lānaʻi, lolling in a hot tub and eventually, mainlining shrimp ceviche and sparkling mojitos.
When we could no longer handle the sloth, we took off by ourselves to meander amongst waterfalls and stepping stones beside koi-filled ponds and lush gardens. Later that day, we emerged from the front door of our enormous guest room (which was, inch for inch, the same size as a Craftsman bungalow we used to rent) to a verdant scene of such hilarious beauty, replete with tiny bridge and scrollwork gazebo, that we had to laugh…and then sigh.
One afternoon, we hopped in the resort’s shuttle van to head way up the hill and explore the site of an ancient Polynesian settlement. Now little more than a dry riverbed within a tangle of quiet, rocky forest, we got only a few hundred feet in before startling a whole herd of the Axis deer that run wild across the island. Feeling like intruders, we turned around, trudged along the golf course and settled ourselves at a patio table at the swanky, be-muraled clubhouse to sip mango lemonades.
Yes, it does seem ironic to build a golf course and club beside the site of an ancient Polynesian settlement — but at least the sandwiches are delicious.
As if our personal lilies had not yet been sufficiently gilded, we indulged in a massage-for-two in an oceanside hale, a fancy little tent with a cliff-top view of the bay. While Adam’s therapist was a soothing presence, mine was a warm yet endlessly chatty over-sharer who inspired me to politely shush her; still, the ocean breeze, sunlight and scent of coconut oil managed to transport me to a place of peace. (hale ocean massage for two, $500 for 80 minutes)
Hales can also be reserved for private meals, which make them, in my opinion, the resort’s most romantic rooms — if not the only romantic rooms. One evening, we sat out on our, um, lanai (I swear, this is what you call a balcony in Hawaii) and watched the sunset blush over the bay, soft waves rolling in our ears. In that moment, I remember thinking that if life looked, sounded and felt like this every day, there might be debt…but surely there’d be no more war.
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While all opinions and observations are my own, our stay at the Four Seasons Resort Lana’i at Manele Bay
was sponsored by the Lānaʻi Visitors Bureau, and included our room, massage and several of our meals.
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See also
One Island, Four Seasons: The Lodge at Koele
Aloha There, Lana’i
Lana’i: The Big Picture of a Tiny Island
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