"An Island Set Apart" a Lanai Travel Page by JRiel

Hawaii is a poster-child for exotic American tourism. And yet unruffled Lanai, smallest of the six accessible islands, is oftentimes overlooked by the millions who annually flock to the Aloha State looking for a touch of foreign realism, only to settle on familiar comforts that are culturally tame.

But Lanai is rugged substance in rare form, and visiting is a contradiction of terms. Clearly overshadowed, yet quietly aloof, here is an island set apart.

Perhaps it’s somewhat due to a predominantly Asian immigrant population, or because of an apparent lack of fast food restaurants and late night watering holes. Whatever the reason for its soft-pedalled vibe, it is just as long time island residents endearingly say: “Lanai is the closest you’ll get to ‘Third-World’ in the U.S.A.”

Taking the 45-minute boat ride from renowned Maui to the solitary island of Lanai is like begging a momentary pardon from the rest of the world. The sensation you get as the Expedition’s passenger ferry departs Lahaina, a well trodden Maui port town, for Manele Bay, a dusty harbor on Lanai‘s southern shore, is the same feeling you have when you look at your wristwatch and suddenly notice that condensation has collected in its face--you realize that time stands still.

As your ferry nears Lanai and you slowly pull into port, the pod of dolphins that have been surfing in your wake take graceful leave, plunging into the deep blue waters that skirt the island. You’re left staring inland at Manele Bay Small Boat Harbor, which turns out to be nothing more than a rustic welcome pad with a single dirt road and its fair share of pot holes. You begin to understand that what you’re about to experience is an exclusive taste of an alternative Hawaii.

A 4x4 Lover’s Paradise

The recently repaved Manele Road slowly snakes its way up from the harbor, until about 1,306 feet above sea-level, where stands historic Lanai City, a small plantation town nestled at the cool mist laden base of Lanaihale, the island’s highest point. From this tiny hamlet, the highway splits off into two opposite directions--southwest descending to Kaumalapau Harbor, the island’s commercial port, and northeast down Maunalei Gulch to Shipwreck Beach and the rugged North Shore. Aside from these three comfortably paved thoroughfares, you can expect to hit red earth the rest of the way.

With only thirty miles of asphalt, the island offers more than a hundred miles of wild off-road adventuring as an alternative. These trails are accessible mainly by 4-wheel drive, although it‘s not unheard of to pass a beach going islander, sporting a well-rusted and red-dirt dusted sedan, cruising along its back country byways.

But wherever you choose to explore off the main paved route, if it‘s trekking in the lowlands through a thicket of copper-toned kiawe trees growing along the shoreline of Polihua Beach, or traversing your way on the edge of a ravine while in the highlands on Munro Trail, you will almost always catch a random glimpse of conspicuous black material poking out of the soil. It was once used to cover the acres of pineapple fields that blanketed Lanai, now it’s nothing more than a haunting reminder of the polished resort island’s former life as a plantation mistress.

“Don’t blink… otherwise you miss it!”

These well repeated words describe the compact brevity of the island’s old, and only, town. And it’s not just a cliché, it’s the truth.

Lanai City’s miniscule 2 mile radius is crisscrossed by a grid of one-way back alleys bisecting numerically ordered narrow streets, and the highest you’ll ever get to is 13th. Look away for a second and you’ll find yourself back where you started, on the sands of Hulopo’e Beach, asking the tour van driver, “Are we there yet?”

The old plantation town’s main business district quietly sits on 7th & 8th, two streets that run parallel with Dole Park, a large grassy square dotted with pine trees that stand guard like rooted sentinels towering over the city center. Here you’ll find a modern art gallery alongside a charming playhouse, “plate-lunch” restaurants with local fare, an Asian market holding hands with a New York style deli, as well as the island’s very own vintage jailhouse, currently closed for business.

And perched on a hilltop overlooking it all is The Hotel Lanai, a historic landmark built in the 1920’s. This is Lanai’s original guesthouse, and the first official establishment started where a weary traveler could rest for the night.

Of Sleeping Bags & Secret Gardens

Regardless of its laid back small town atmosphere, the island is no stranger to the spotlight. Mostly due to Bill Gates’ buttoned-up wedding in 1994, the world now knows Lanai by name. And year after year, a steady stream of high profile visitors have graced this tiny island since. But despite being an occasional media child this playground is not exclusive to the rich and famous.

Along the town’s shady side streets and quiet back roads, couples in search of a starry-eyed getaway will find quaint villas with sunset views, such as the “Dreams Come True” Plantation House, and families seeking a turf to call their own can rent out private estates perfect for gatherings, like “The Bamboo Garden Retreat.”

As for those traveling on a shoestring budget, the island offers an authentic beach camping experience. This involves pitching tent on the golden sands of Hulopo’e Beach Park. Facilities include restrooms, showers, running water, barbecue areas, and picnic tables. The site also boasts a strategic placement at the base of the Four Seasons at Manele, which connects you by shuttle, for a fee, to the uplands of Lanai City, where you can stock up for provisions at any of the island’s three grocery stores.

If self-catering is your style, however, it’s important to keep in mind that the town’s grocery stores will occasionally close for an hour or so at midday, allowing time for the workers to walk home and spend their lunch break with family. Some days of the week they stay open, other days they close. This is a schedule that even many of the locals have yet to figure out for themselves. But if you ask around for specific times, chances are someone will be able to give you a vague answer.

Take a morning stroll through Dole Park and have a nostalgic conversation with the tatas, or patriarchs of the Ilokano community, sitting at Old Man Bench, an informal group of life loving old-timers, many of whom drifted from the islands of South East Asia several decades ago to find work on the plantations of a bygone era.

Enjoy breakfast beneath the tawny roof of Canoe’s Lanai Restaurant, and lose yourself in an enlightening discussion over a gravy soaked loco-moco plate with the island’s Japanese-Americans, Chinese-Hawaiians and other residents of mixed ancestry, all the while getting a feel of what life was like back in the days when pineapple ruled as island king.

Get your lunchtime caffeine fix at Coffee Works and catch the inside scoops of the goings on in this tight knit community as you ‘talk story’ with second, third or fourth generation islanders who sit around sipping double espressos and steamy lattes with an up and coming crop of mainland American immigrants.

And at night, stop in for pupus and a drink at Pele’s Other Garden, the town’s most happening yet laidback hotspot, and people-watch with expatriates from countries such as France, Germany and Canada, who make up a fraction of the island’s current influx of resort workers, all of whom may be gadding about with a random smattering of locals and tourists alike.

Far from being a stereotypical Hawaii of little grass shacks and lovely hula hands, the island of Lanai is more pine tree cool than palm tree hot, more an eclectic mix of East-meets-West than a “Polynesian Paradise.” Whether you come here to experience a vibrantly alive but forgotten part of old plantation Hawaii, or to hobnob it with the world’s pampered elite, chances are you’ll leave Lanai with a faint grin and a quiet feeling that runs deep, like you’ve just been let in on a well-kept secret.

But as your plane touches down at the Honolulu Airport and you find yourself once again staring at a sprawling skyline of a concrete city, or as your ferry pulls into the crowded port of a neighboring isle and you reluctantly push your way through an all too familiar congestion of people and vehicles, just remember that the island of Lanai, a tiny pebble in the center of the Pacific, is quite possibly the closest you’ll ever get to touching the outside world while standing on American soil.