It’s always summer in Hawaii…or so we like to tell ourselves, once autumn takes hold.

One of my favorite versions of Hawaii, the northeast coast of the Big Island, has lush and frondy jungles, windswept coves, freakishly enormous flowers, tumbling waterfalls — and the comfortable elegance of the Palms Cliff House Inn.

The northeast edge of the Big Island, called the Hamakua Coast, is where you’ll find the island’s deep, green heart and a healthy dose of its tropical romance. About 15 minutes north of downtown Hilo, I was thrilled to discover a luxurious little cliffside bed and breakfast amidst a landscape that can easily make us forget the rest of the world.

Perched a long, quiet ways off the 19 near Honomu Town, at first glance the Palms Cliff House looks like someone’s sort of large, Victorian-y and whitewashed clapboard house. At the front door, though, you’re welcomed into the deceptively sprawling home of owners (and married couple) John and Michelle Gamble; these forty-something folks fell in love with Hawaiian culture and the Big Island back in 2000, and have since filled their inn with Hawaiian artifacts, crafts and a sense of place.

If you need a hit of ocean air right away, breeze on past the lobby’s sunken sitting room, waft through the French doors and lean against the railing on the first-floor porch. Or better yet, go check out the view from your digs.

There are only eight rooms here, all with ocean views; we were given one of the most popular with couples, Hawaiian Views (room #5). The room was huge and impressive, the decor a curious mix of stately manor, luxurious bordello and Hawaiian feather work; at first, this struck me as odd and a little garish, but soon began to blend into comfort with a bit of panache.

Schmancy perks like a gas fireplace, big ol’ flat-screen, marble Jacuzzi tub and balcony looking out over the water encouraged us to scurry back here from our adventures. The king-sized bed was full of pillows, allowing each of us to go all Goldilocks and find the one that was juuussssst right; tucked up in high-threadcount sheets, the fireplace turned down low, the sliding door open and the rumble of waves in our ears, we had ourselves a delicious night’s sleep here. (Hawaiian Views Suite, $349 US in summer and $449 US in other seasons)

Earlier that afternoon, leaning on the balcony railing with the soft blue glow of ocean in my eyes, I’d struggled a bit with myself: I could easily have convinced Adam to spend the rest of the day here with me, reading books and looking up occasionally to catch a drifting pod of dolphins. Or even a delightful spot of afternoon tea ($45 US per person).

But no — there was much exploring to do. (And just about all of it would require comfortable walking shoes with grippy soles.)

The Palms Cliff House is about three minutes south of Honomu Town, an early 20th-century sugarcane settlement that looks like a Hawaiian version of the Old West, and the spectacular Akaka Falls, a soaring 442-foot waterfall set amidst a big loop of walkways through a towering rainforest. Take a left from the 19 onto the 220, and you’ll find that it costs nothing to park in two-block-long Honomu (where you can score a turkey burger, ice cream and some local handicrafts) and all of $5US to park at Akaka.

About 7 minutes south of the Inn is the gorgeous Hawai’i Tropical Botanical Garden, a Northern California couple’s (seemingly insane) man-made celebration of otherworldly plants and flowers that spills down a steep hill into a rough tumble of stunning coastline. We sprayed ourselves thoroughly with insect repellent, picked our way down the initial path (watching lucky older folks get driven down in golf carts), and meandered amongst tiki idols, rare idols, rocky streams and giant ferns. Dee-lightful.

Tooling along the 19 back towards the Inn, we stopped by rushing rivers beneath tangles of vines, smuggled guavas from roadside trees, and gaped at sheer hillsides of palm trees that melted to verdant valleys and plunged to the rushing sea. Nice neighborhood they’ve got here.

For dinner that night, we got adventurous and headed north — way north. After about a 40-minute drive, we arrived at the Waipi’o Valley overlook, at the northernmost tip of the Big Island, in time to see the sunset. Sure, we could have caught the last blush of the day from our own balcony back at the Inn, but don’t judge until you’ve seen this wild slice of Hawaiian coast for yourself.

Aside from the pursuit of sheer beauty, our mission was dinner: come evening, there’s little to eat around Honomu. You can easily trek the few minutes back to Hilo, but we chose instead to take Michelle’s suggestion and head up to Honoka’a for homemade calzones at Café Il Mondo. A wise and delicious choice, we took refuge from a sudden rainstorm in a small, cozy storefront-style dining room with scuffed wooden floors and table-fulls of friendly locals. Excited to find that the dough here is made fresh in-house, we chose a light, chewy, olive oil-kissed Greek calzone with salty feta and (instead of marinara) the cafe’s signature pesto. It was absolutely wonderful, and fully worth the 25-minute drive back in the dark.

Morning back at the Palms Cliff House was a mix of strong winds, showers and intermittent rainbows, so we took our sweet, dense slices of homemade Dutch apple pancakes in the inn’s public room, sipping mild Hilo coffee, waiting out the rain and chatting with Michelle and John about their passion for the culture of hula. Their happiest (and busiest) month is in April, when the 3-day annual Merrie Monarch Festival is in full swing and a feathery flurry of hula dancers call the Palms Cliff home.

For us, we were content to explore the wilds of the Hamakua Coast and then sit awhile on that splendid wraparound porch, gazing off at the bay — with no place else to be.

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My stay at the Palms Cliff House Inn
was sponsored by the Big Island Visitors Bureau,
but all observations and opinions are my own.

Nightly rates include breakfast and range from
$199 US-$349 US during the summer and $299 US-$499 US in other seasons.

United/Continental offers direct, six-hour flights to Hilo from both Los Angeles and San Francisco.

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See also
A Hui Hou, Hilo
Hawai’i in Bloom
Shipman House: Back in Time, Hawaii Style
Hawai’i's Big Island: Go With the Flow
Dreaming of Hawaii
TWT Travel Binder: Hawaii

Travels With Two

Holding a gun for the first time at Lana'i Pine Sporting Clays

I was initially, shall we say, wary of our trip to Hawaii’s only clay shooting range, Lānaʻi Pine Sporting Clays, on the island of Lānaʻi. I’d always envisioned living a long, full life without ever shooting a gun, but Adam was game to bust a cap in something.

And so, in a spirit of sharing and pretend violence, off we went to hit our targets.

About a mile up the hill from the Four Seasons Lodge at Koele, we hopped aboard a golf cart and trundled through a forest of pines and native ironwoods with range manager Dennis Rapp. Luckily for me as a first-timer, Rapp is a seasoned gun veteran, patient teacher and hilariously dry wit.

Handing me a rifle, he calmed my jumpy nerves, reminded me to keep my shoulder down, my eyes open — and blam! I hit my first clay disk square in the center, shattering it into a gajillion pieces. I’d go on to to get 3 out of 9, forfeiting my 10th clay in favor of, well, not directing bullets at anything else.

In contrast, Adam proved that he’s an impressive marksman, advancing to five ranges and a round of double-clays inside of 45 minutes. Nice.

Now, it turns out you can also shoot air rifles here or rent a 4×4 to explore the epic Munro Trail, but the biggest surprise of this adventure? Turns out I’m good at archery. No lie, I can shoot an arrow like an action hero. I strapped on some weird leather hand/arm contraptions, leveled the core of my being at the target, and hit the very outside edge of the bullseye on my first try. I’d go on to nail get 10 out of 10 tries, and won myself a shiny crystal pineapple.

Seriously, I haven’t been so proud since I won the Alice Deal Middle School spelling bee in 1983. I’m considering turning to archery for stress relief in my real life, and to think — I have shooting a gun on a small Hawaiian island to thank for this, um, pointed discovery.

Lānaʻi Pine’s lessons/activities start at $60 per person and can be booked through Lānaʻi’s three major hotels or by calling directly at (808) 559-4501.

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Our shooting and archery lessons at Lānaʻi Pine Sporting Clays
were sponsored by the Lānaʻi Visitors Bureau.
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See also
The Best Little Hotel in Downtown Lana’i
One Island, Four Seasons: Lana’i at Manele Bay
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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Travels With Two

Shipman House Bed and Breakfast Inn, Hilo, Hawai'i

When we saw the Shipman House Bed and Breakfast Inn rising tall, proud and Victorian at the top of a long, manicured driveway, I said aloud:

“Oh, wow. This must have been the finest house in Hilo, back in the day.”

But actually, it’s still the finest house on Hawai’i's Big Island — even now.

When I travel, I love to feel like I’m inhabiting someone’s home, briefly trying on their life and history. Shipman House offers this opportunity in a unique and poignant way, mingling a family’s story with the history of the eastern side of the Big Island itself.

At the turn of the last century, W.H. Shipman, stepson of a successful Hilo rancher, became the big kahuna in these parts; his wealthy ranch stretched over 70,000 acres from the coast to Kilauea Volcano. In 1901, he bought this then-state-of-the-art mansion as a surprise for his wife, thus becoming the envy of the whole neighborhood.

(For the record, I think a nice silver bracelet makes a lovely gift, but to each his own.)

The front porch and first floor of the Shipman House

Shipman’s descendants have lived in the house since then, and his great-granddaughter, Barbara, has run it as a B&B since 1979. Her family’s empire may be smaller now, but still amounts to 17,000 acres of commercial real estate and agricultural interests; a legacy of having saved Hawai’i's native goose, the nene, from extinction and brought the first orchids to the islands; and assembling a gorgeous collection of Victorian furniture and Polynesian art.

Upstairs at the Shipman's main house

A modern-day stay at Shipman House is just a few blocks up from downtown Hilo and yet steeped in antique luxury; in the main house, for instance, you’ll find custom-made stained glass, oriental carpets, clawfoot tubs and even an electric elevator. Take a wander down the residential street to cross an old iron bridge and peer into a deep, green river gully. Or take a seat in a rocking chair on the big wraparound porch, surrounded by a tropical jungle fed by a mix of languid humidity, cool breezes and brief but astonishingly powerful rains.

Shipman's side porch and its comfy rocking chairs

Since all of Shipman’s rooms average $210 a night with a 2-night minimum, I’d still choose our room out in the adjacent guest house.

Rimmed by tropical plants and up a semi-steep flight of stairs, the big, airy Makai Room features the koa wood footboard of the same bed where Jack London slept — as a guest of W.H. Shipman — back in 1907. There’s a wide, plushy window seat, a shower big enough for two and a shared, screened-in front porch. (During our two-night stay, we never heard or saw our neighbors.) Japanese kimonos, a nod to one of Hawai’i's greatest cultural influences, hang in the big closet, and a ceiling fan kept us comfortably cool at night.

The Makai Room in the Guest House and glimpses of the Shipman's grounds

Come morning, Shipman’s breakfasts are pretty darn epic. You’ll meet couples from all over the world here, swapping island adventures over homemade muffins, passionfruit-flavored lilikoi butter, a seaweed-salt-herb combo that tastes great with hard-boiled eggs, and much more.

However, regardless of how hungry you might be, be prepared to rein yourself in while Barbara points our the offerings on her enormous/exotic fruit plate. Yes, she does this every day, and yes, she could probably just make up little signs telling you what each fruit is called/tastes like/comes from, but if you consider it part of your personal introduction to Hilo and Big Island culture, you’ll learn some cool things and be stuffing dragon’s eye fruit in your gullet within a few minutes.

The Shipman House fruit plate in all its glory

Come evening, before you turn in for the night at Shipman House, open a window or have a seat on the porch and you can hear the sparkly, metallic whirring of frogs all around you.

Have a listen here:

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My stay at the Shipman House Bed & Breakfast Inn was sponsored by the Big Island Visitors Bureau,
but all observations and opinions (as well as a new obsession with dragon’s eye fruit) are my own.

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While at Shipman House, know that you’re:
a half-hour’s drive from the Hilo Coffee Mill and the Akatsuka Orchid Gardens
a 45-minute drive from Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park
a 10-minute walk from downtown Hilo, where you’ll find the Hilo Farmer’s Market;
ice cream at Hilo Shark’s Coffee; and dinner at the delicious Cafe Pesto

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See also
A Hui Hou, Hilo
Hawai’i in Bloom
Hawai’i's Big Island: Go With the Flow
Dreaming of Hawaii
TWT Travel Binder: Hawaii

Travels With Two

The foyer/sitting room at Lana'i City's laid-back Hotel Lana'i

In all fairness, the Hotel Lānaʻi is the only hotel in downtown Lana’i. Happily, though, it’s a friendly, laid-back place to stay.

On the island of Lānaʻi, when you’re looking to immerse yourself in small-town Hawaiian life (and not spend a king’s ransom on your lodgings), this here — along with its lovely, delicious Lānaʻi City Grille – is your home away from home.

Our breezy cottage at the gently lived-in Hotel Lānaʻi allowed us a welcome opportunity to detox from the (near-) excessive luxury at the oceanside Four Seasons at Manele Bay. As B&B/boutique hotel people at heart, our knee-jerk comfort zone has a sense of history and a foyer instead of a lobby; this joint fits our bill beautifully. Set across the street from Dole Park, the town center of sleepy Lānaʻi City, it invites you to go for a stroll and meet the island’s locals — all of whom seem to have come for a visit and ended up choosing to stay forever.

Built in 1923 to house visiting executives of the Dole Pineapple empire (the island’s main industry for about 70 years), the vibe here is “longtime vacation home.” The 11 rooms here have front porches with rocking chairs, whitewashed baseboards, pedestal sinks, soft-worn floorboards that feel happy on bare feet, and no air-conditioning; the year-round climate here is mild and breezy. Lodging starts at $99 a night, the greatest argument for a stay here rather than Manele Bay or the ranch-land sprawl of the Four Seasons’ Lodge at Koele…which start at about $300.

Because the antique walls in the main buildings tend to be thin, I’d recommend staying in the romantic Cottage, a private little house with its own patio and hammock. (Bonus for unrepentant media addicts: While there’s free wi-fi in every room, only the Cottage has a TV.) The quilted bedspread was pure Hawaii and the screen door sounded like a small-town summer. Our one afternoon at the hotel, we hung on our patio listening to the silken songs of Lionel Richie played on a ukelele, wafting on over from the park. (Cottage, $179 per night + tax)

The Cottage, our cozy, private digs at the Hotel Lana'i

The only drawback of the Hotel Lānaʻi? The slim pickings at the breakfast buffet. Tiny little muffins and dry scones, bland grocery-store fruit (very little can grow in the island’s plastic-threaded, post-pineapple soil) and coffee that’s too wan for our deep, dark tastes. Fortunately, the hotel is just a block or two from several other breakfast options. To boot, you can get some kick-ass coffee at Coffee Works, which has quite possibly the best sign ever — a big black coffee cup that releases puffs of steam. If you’re into breakfast, you’re better off leaving and paying extra elsewhere.

On the plus side? The hotel’s on-site restaurant, the Lānaʻi City Grille, provided our best dinner experience on the island. Twice.

The evening before our Hotel Lānaʻi stay officially began, we hopped on a shuttle from Manele Bay to Lana’i City and took a short wander ’round the downtown square. We soon learned that Jenny Gentry Majkus, proprietor of swanky island-wear boutique The Local Gentry, and Diane from the Mike Carroll Gallery would both be celebrating that evening at the Lānaʻi City Grille: Jenny’s unstoppable dance-sensation of a daughter was turning 3 and seemed poised to wear out the house band, and Diane’s husband was being surprised for his birthday by all of his grown children gathering from across the U.S…including his newly-pregnant daughter.

We opted, then, to not to miss the show. Settling ourselves in for an early dinner with a view of the lantern-trimmed music stage, we smiled around the summery Cratfsman porch of a dining room and took hostess/manager Michelle Kommes’ advice to try the (goat cheese-phyllo goodness of the) beet carpaccio salad. We’d return for it the next night — and if we lived closer, would probably do so again every month ’til the end of time.

Lana'i City Grille at the Hotel Lana'i

The neo-Hawaiian menu here (which includes local venison and fish), is the creation of Bev Gannon, chef at Maui’s Hali’imaile General Store, where we ate our faces off back in 2010; not a huge shock, then, that we loved the food. The steel drum tunes, cheerful local bar scene and hands-in-the-air-like-you-just-don’t-care shenanigans of a dancing toddler? Just sweet scoops of ice cream on the Filipino-inspired banana lumpia or the (wait for it) chocolate-chip cookie baked in a skillet. (Dinner for two with some excellent wines and/or cocktails, about $120)

If you want to stay in one central, reasonably affordable location on the island, try the Hotel Lānaʻi. Then, be sure to visit the two resorts and book a few excursions…that is, if you feel like getting up and off your porch. You may just want to stay here a while, drinking in the quiet.

_____________________________________________________________________________

While all opinions and observations are my own,
our stay at the Hotel Lānaʻi
was sponsored by the Lānaʻi Visitors Bureau
and included our room and one of our (dee-licious) dinners at the Lana’i City Grille.
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See also
One Island, Four Seasons: Lana’i at Manele Bay
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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Travels With Two

On Lana'i, the stables and pines of the Lodge at Koele

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, The Lodge at Koele and the Four Seasons Resort, Lānaʻi at Manele Bay are like separate worlds — albeit each with frondy gardens, romantic diversions and sexy cocktails. Offering dreamy-grey skies and ranch land on one side of the island and rocky cliffs overlooking the Pacific on the other, I can’t imagine a trip to Lānaʻi without a stay at both.

If a big ol’ porch, an orchid greenhouse, a stable full of horses and elegant afternoon tea are your idea of vacation, though — allow me to introduce Koele.

Before I launch in, perhaps I should clarify: I personally love porches, orchids, greenhouses, horses, elegance and afternoon tea. These are all things that for me, as a traveler and a human being, make life infinitely worth living. And Koele has them all.

The former headquarters of the Lanai Company Cattle Ranch, the Lodge at Koele is a renovated version of Victorian-era Hawaii, with a leathery library, mural-trimmed music room and even croquet on the lawn. There’s an expansive, woodsy golf course designed by Greg Norman, but we had ourselves a fine time at the civilized miniature course right in the backyard. The gardens are a mix of natives and tropicals from around the world, flowing gently around shimmering ponds — and a pagoda.

A frequent shuttle travels between the island’s two Four Seasons resorts so you can have access to Manele Bay’s beach and spa. But at Koele, just across the road is a stable full of horses where you can clop along the surrounding trails, rent a fancy carriage and driver, or just lean over the wooden fence and pet some soft noses and manes.

Ironically, it’s a lot cooler here up near the woods than down by the sea, and the sun is more occasional than shining. The steely light here boosts every color and softens every hard edge. From inside the soaring A-frame lobby, perched beside a roaring fire in a big stone fireplace, nibbling a cheese plate and sipping pineapple lemonades, we gazed dreamily out of tall windows at the velvety glow of bougainvillea beneath an overcast sky. Out in the orchid greenhouse, for just a minute we had the curious feeling that we were actually in England, surrounded by misty clouds, manicured lawns and old-growth trees.

The best place to watch the light change up here is from the front porch. Between the west wing and the front entrance, there’s a long line of wicker lounges, each with its own quilted pillow, that seem to invite lingering. One day of our stay, we walked past the same thirty-something couple three times — in morning, afternoon and early evening — simply reading books, side by side. On our third pass I said, “You two are my personal vacation heroes.” They laughed and replied that their big goals at Koele were to slow down, read, and occasionally lift their heads to see the day drift by. While our travel style is more “see everything you possibly can and then sit down, I still salute this couple for their dedication to chilling out. Well done.

Just before sunset on the center porch is cowboy/cocktail hour. I cuddled the resident cat (aka Koele), for a good long while, then joined Adam at a rail-side table for elderflower-honey martinis and original songs by Jesse Taylor (aka the Singing Cowboy). In what sounds like the logline from a ’70s movie, Jesse often shares the story of being discovered in a Montana bar by the wife of Koele’s stable manager. Just about every evening now, in a cowboy hat and boots, Jesse strums his guitar on Koele’s porch and sings to all the ladies of the Lodge.

Once the light was done for the day, we’d happily retire to our nearly perfect room. Huge and cozy at the same time, we had plenty of space in which to spread out and settle in. A window seat for me; a rear garden-view lanai (balcony) for Adam; a big, hand-painted tile bathroom with strong water pressure; a sprawling hug of a bed; and um, excellent soundproofing. Given free rein, I’d have  swapped out the formal chintzes and plaids for something more Hawaiian…but then we might still be in that room now. (Rooms average $295-750, with packages and luxury suites available)

Still, we’d be tempted to leave it for a few hours at a time. For instance, glad we didn’t miss the wagyu beef prepared on lava rocks in the fancy, fireside Dining Room, listening to the angelic voice of the simply lovely Larry Endrina, a regular Koele performer. Afternoon tea was a highlight, too, with a tea box that allows you to sniff each blend and read about its origin. Our friendly server had recently been to Taiwan and fallen madly in love with tea there; his insights led me to a floral-y oolong and Adam to an earthy assam.

Our last afternoon at Koele, we meandered over to the stables and alighted a white, horse-drawn carriage (with pink seats, no less) for an hour’s delightful ride through Lānaʻi City. By then, we’d both walked and driven through town, but from up in the carriage we managed to see things we hadn’t noticed before. Folks waved us to us from their porches as we leaned back, slowly passing beneath treetops, and snuggled in for some head-on-shoulder action.

Am I ready to go back to Koele? Absolutely. This special place would be way up on my list for an anniversary or other special occasion — like, say, any random Tuesday.

_____________________________________________________________________________

While all opinions and observations are my own,
our stay at the Four Seasons Resort Lana’i, The Lodge at Koele
was sponsored by the Lānaʻi Visitors Bureau
and included our room, carriage ride and several of our meals.
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See also
One Island, Four Seasons: Lana’i at Manele Bay
Aloha There, Lana’i
Lana’i: The Big Picture of a Tiny Island

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Travels With Two

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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Travels With Two

A mural of Manele Bay in downtown Lana'i City

When you think of taking a trip to Hawai’i, you’re probably picturing beach, palm trees and pineapples. And in the case of the small island of Lānaʻi, you’d be spot on.

Sort of, anyway.

At only 20-odd miles across and home to only 3,000 people, this unique slice of the world has a pretty darn complicated, fascinating history — especially when you consider that it’s part of the United States.

Ancient residents of Māui thought Lānaʻi was a terrifying land of man-eating ghosts, and at one time you’d have only been sent here to be punished or prove your (quavering) manhood. Then in the 1500s, Māui’s Prince Kaululaau managed to convince his people that he’d rid Lānaʻi of its evil spirits, prompting his dad to bequeath the island to him and some loyal subjects. Life on Lānaʻi continued pretty peacefully until the late 1770s…when King Kamehameha slaughtered its residents almost en masse in a violently successful effort to unite Hawai’i.

Shortly thereafter, following British explorer Captain James Cook‘s discovery of the islands, Western missionaries began sailing their epic way to Hawai’i, intent on new souls. In the 1860s, Mormons came to isolated Lānaʻi seeking a colony of religious freedom and native converts, but left after just a few years, disappointed by failed crops and church leader Walter Murray Gibson‘s scandalous creation of his own island fiefdom.

Though his brethren departed for Oah’u, Gibson remained on Lānaʻi in the naïve good graces of then-king Kalakaua. Eventually, power-hungry Gibson was made Hawai’i's de facto prime minister, and at what is now the Four Seasons Lodge at Koele, he set up the island’s then-biggest business, the Lanai Company Cattle Ranch. After his death in 1888, his daughter took over; while she and her husband were ultimately unable to make the ranch a financial success, they did hire foreman George Munro, a conservationist-minded New Zealander who, to counteract the overgrazing of the land by thousands of sheep and cows, brought humidifying and iconic Cook Island pines to Lānaʻi.

Cook Island pines surround the stables at Koele, former site of the Lanai Company Cattle Ranch

In 1922, cash-poor Lānaʻi was sold to James Dole of pineapple fame. Needing more labor, he encouraged Filipino, Japanese, Chinese, Portuguese, Korean, and Puerto Rican immigrants to come for steady work and proceeded to turn the island into the world’s largest plantation. (Many of the original plantation workers’ homes still stand in a ramshackle fashion in town, and a fair number of Filipino families, in particular, remain here. Their strongest influence can be seen in colorful house paint, vibrant front yard gardens, different types of lumpia on area menus and adobo ingredients in local markets.)

Lana'i's immigrant legacy includes banana lumpia at the Lana'i City Grille, historic plantation workers' homes and adobo pig roasts

But when the Great Depression decreased demand for fancy fruit, in came Castle & Cooke. By the 1910s, this Los Angeles-based company already held a one-third stake in the powerful Matson shipping empire; in 1931, they swooped in on the financially weakened Hawaiian Pineapple Company, gradually pushing out Dole while taking his name. By 1961, the pineapple kingdom would be entirely theirs, and Lānaʻi ran not unlike a feudal dream.

At age 15, all Lānaʻi residents were required to go work for Dole. Almost the entire island was dedicated to growing, processing and transporting the fruit, and operations ran on two shifts, starting each day at 4:30am. Up-and-comers would be assigned to a variety of departments, from picking to trucking to experimental; the latter successfully hybridized the low-acid Maui Gold. Work was plentiful, but opportunities for advancement were not; to avoid a future of sunstroke and backbreaking work, many young people fled, staying away from their otherwise beloved home for years.

Thousands of Lana'i's 89,000 acres used to be pineapple fields

By the mid-1980s, though, the dollar-green pastures of the agriculture industry were being replanted among the cheaper labor markets of Asia. Castle & Cooke closed up Lānaʻi’s fields and began focusing its efforts on tourism. In 1990, they developed the island’s former cattle ranch into the Four Seasons Lodge at Koele, and soon, many locals who’d left long before began to trickle back. Two hotels would soon follow, the Four Seasons Resort at Manele Bay and central, less expensive Hotel Lānaʻi, as well as a handful of excursion providers.

From left: Four Seasons Lodge at Koele, Hotel Lana'i, and Four Seasons Resort at Manele Bay

All that’s now left behind of the pineapple trade is Dole Park in downtown Lānaʻi City, a fruit-lined walkway to the Cultural & Heritage Center, and on much of the island, a tragically short-sighted environmental legacy. For many decades, pineapple corms were planted in holes poked through layers of plastic sheeting laid atop the soil to hold in moisture and keep out invading weeds; occasionally, (almost) the whole works would be burned off to regenerate the soil for new pineapple, but this rarely eliminated all the plastic sheeting. Then in 1992, when the fields were abandoned for good, the last layer wasn’t burned off at all. The result? Remnants of black plastic that lie as deep as six feet under but also poke through the soil, rendering fallow whole swaths of the island.

The sign at Lana'i City's Dole Park and bits of black plastic poking through the soil are part of the island's pineapple legacy

But happily, efforts are now being made in earnest to replant Lānaʻi with endangered natives and bring back local food production. On the island’s northwest, the Nature Conservancy runs the 590-acre Kanepu’u Preserve, where 48 native, dry-lowland species — like spindly-strong ironwood and ebony lama trees — are being nurtured. You can rent a 4-wheel drive in town, take a 20-minute drive out here to this quiet, windswept area and either take a self-guided tour using the preserve’s explanatory signs or see about arranging a guided tour through the Nature Conservancy’s Mau’i office.

Ironwood trees leading into the Kanepu'u Preserve

Back on the eastern side of the island, venerable Alberta De Jetley and gruff local character Bennie Richardson labor to make Lānaʻi more sustainable, as well as more profitable. Since 2003, they’ve run Bennie’s Farm, the only commercial farm on Lānaʻi, where they’ve organically revived the soil, keep it planted as cheaply as possible, and, among several other crops, fine-tune the complex art of (gorgeously sweet) banana growing. In addition to selling their produce to the local resorts and markets, Alberta can be found at a farmers’ market stall every Saturday in Dole Park from 8am to noon; come early, though, as she tends to sell out fast. The farm can’t presently keep up with local demand, but someday…just maybe.

At Bennie's Farm, the only commercial farm on Lana'i, Alberta and Bennie nurture bananas and much more

Modern-day Lānaʻi is almost entirely privately-owned by Castle & Cooke, which itself is owned by American real estate mogul David Murdock. Murdock does his best to keep the island well-maintained and attractive to potential investors, but his efforts aren’t without controversy. These days, the hot-button issue on Lānaʻi is a plan to build a fenced-in phalanx of windmills on land that’s both barren and sacred, encompassing the moonscape-y Garden of the Gods and ancient ceremonial hunting grounds. (If you doubt hunting is a big deal here, take a stroll through the backstreets of Lānaʻi City and check out the deer antlers displayed in almost every garage.)

Some anti-windmill arguments focus on size, others on questions of benefits

The windmills were initially intended to provide power via an ocean-submerged cable to neighboring Mau’i, and (some) Lānaʻi locals were surprised to discover that their own power needs (which are enormously expensive) hadn’t even been considered. A revised plan now includes 100% power provision for the windmills’ hosts, but mistrust and hope divides the island’s residents; you’ll see just as many pro- as anti-windmill posters in Lānaʻi City. Some folks feel that the windmills will bring a steady windfall, while others feel they could disrupt traditional hunting, provide only a small handful of jobs, and further marginalize the governmental status of what amounts to a vulnerable refuge within a remote American state.

Lānaʻi is a case study for what happens when a small and lovely place becomes a religious, governmental and corporate pawn over a long period of time, and still manages to preserve what makes it special.

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See also
Aloha There, Lana’i
Visit Lana’i: New Media Artist-in-Residence Program

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Travels With Two

Mural in downtown Hilo, Hawai'i, depicting its fishing industry past

In Hawaiian, a hui hou means “until we meet again.”

Rather than say goodbye to Hilo, the biggest small town on the eastern side of Hawaii’s Big Island, I’d rather just bid it a brief adieu. And with new direct flights from Los Angeles to Hilo launching today, it’s a darn safe bet that we’ll be back soon.

We first visited the Big Island back in ’06 for a friend’s wedding on the dry, western Kohala Coast (aka “the Kona side”), and after a whirlwind trip around the whole island, only had a rushed hour or so to spend in and around Hilo. Our experience of Kona was snorkel-happy beaches, shopping plazas and fancy resorts; pretty to be sure, but for us, it lacked a spirit of exploration.

Just recently, thanks to the Big Island Visitors’ Bureau, we finally got to spend a few days exploring the more lush and friendly “Hilo side.” The verdict? Love the shoes-free livin’; the soaring hillsides of palm trees; wild ocean coves; tumbling waterfalls; powerful rainstorms that yield vibrant flowers and exotic fruits; vintage architecture; blend of Asian cultures; and nearby Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park.

Used to be, though, the only direct flights from the West Coast to the Big Island took you to Kona — a three-hour drive from Hilo. Getting to Hilo has always involved a plane switch in Honolulu; this is the way we had to go just a few weeks ago, and with layover time, our journey from L.A. to Hilo took over eight hours.

In a world of limited vacation days, lots of time-crunched visitors to the Big Island (which is 4000 miles from the U.S. mainland) have never even made it to the Hilo side.  That’s a shame — and yet, sadly understandable.

Now, merged airline United/Continental has stepped in to give the Hilo side the boost it deserves: Two daily flights from LAX will get visitors from the West Coast to Hilo inside of five hours. Make a whole trip out of the wild, jungly eastern side of the Big Island, or start in Hilo and work your way over to Kona for a couple days of beachy unplugging. Hassle-free in, hassle-free out.

So, here’s just some of what you’ll find in and around Hilo…in case you’d like to fall in love with it, too.

In the heart of downtown Hilo, a reflecting pool in a public park serves as a memorial to local soliders who served in World War II

Just outside of downtown Hilo, the spray from Rainbow Falls often makes a...rainbow

The epic fruit platter at the historic Shipman House B&B includes local favorites like lychee, longan and soursop, all introduced to Hawaii by a pan-Asian population

At the Hilo Farmers Market (held downtown on Wednesdays), we laughed long and hard over soaps from local company The Filthy Farmgirl -- and then bought a whole bunch

At the Hilo Farmers Market, you'll find the island's Japanese, Chinese, Vietnamese and Polynesian melting pot in the food, crafts and locals

At Hilo's laid-back Bayfront Coffee Company, try the strange and refreshing kava, an ancient and ceremonial Polynesian root drink that makes you feel (legally) happy

Not far from town, the Hilo Coffee Mill grows and roasts the Hilo side's only local coffee; here, you can take a tour and try the wares

Orchid porn, anyone? At the Akatsuka Orchid Farm, glory in varieties you've never seen

The path to the Thurston Lava Tube in Hawai'i Volcanoes National Park is surrounded by a jungle of some of the biggest ferns on Earth

At the bottom of the lush and painstakingly-planted Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden in nearby Papaikou, you'll find a dramatic stretch of Pacific coves

Akaka Falls State Park near Honomu Town has the tallest falls in Hawai'i and a thick tangle of jungle towering over its walkways

Like a miniature version of Hilo's historic downtown, Honomu feels like a frontier Main Street...albeit one where you can get a nice ahi burger

Near Honomu, the view from the porch at the Palms Cliff House includes whole pods of dolphins

Back in Hilo at the Pana'ewa Zoo, you'll find Namaste, a rare white bengal tiger

In the coastal parkland of downtown Hilo, you'll find lots of space, a little peace and the huge, exotic arcs of monkey pod trees

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My trip to Hawai’i's Big Island was sponsored by Big Island Visitors’ Bureau,
but all observations and opinions here are my own.

Direct flights on United/Continental from Los Angeles to Hilo (LAX>ITO) begin today, June 9, 2011.

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See also
Hawai’i in Bloom
Hawaii’s Big Island: Go With the Flow

Travels With Two