Mauna Lani Bay and Bungalows
The Big Island, HI

Becalmed by the shed of an outrigger canoe, I stare at the spot where the cinder-black lava bowed to the exorbitant blues of the Pacific. Behind me, palms hula to the slap of mullets jumping out of fishponds. Dreamily, I watch Kamehameha—big, tall and bronzed—ride in one last wave before his dinner of fresh fish from the royal ponds. Here at Kalāhuipua‘a, King Kamehameha I finds peace now that he’s brought all the islands of Hawaii under his rule. He loves its calming beauty, its perfect waves, the manna from its surroundings, and its power. Kalāhuipua‘a is at the navel of five great volcanoes (the three on the Big Island and two across the way on Maui) and place of great spiritual power. King Kamehameha I raises his arms and with awe in his voice chants his praise to his Creator.

Waking from my reveries, I add my hosanna to the King’s, uttered 200 years ago, for the bounty of Kalāhuipua‘a is still intact and under the stewardship of the Mauna Lani Bay. On this portion of the Big Island’s Kohala coast, the Kamehameha could still dine on fish from his ponds, store his canoe in a grass covered shed and wander among well-loved plants. Of course, the modern hotel, golf courses, and swimming pools might come as a shock.

Sixty years ago, Francis H. I‘i Brown, himself descended from Hawaiian ali‘i (royalty), bought this land as a place to park outside the fast lane and "be Hawaiian." In 1964 at the Tokyo Olympics, Brown and a Japanese businessman became golfing buddies, discovered their shared the passions of hedonism and conservation, and eventually they created the Mauna Lani. Luxury was their call word and the preservation of the physical, cultural and spiritual environments of Kalāhuipua‘a was their goal. Brown's nephew, Kenneth Brown is now the Mauna Lani’s chairman. He calls himself the Descendant Guardian. Every hotel ought to have one.

Rich veins of Hawaiian culture, history and ecology exist in concert with this resort. Working sluice gates still allow the sea to circulate through the royal fishponds and prohibit the fish from circulating back to the sea. Naupaka-Kahaka, a native plant the Hawaiians used for food, to help digestion and to peg together their canoes is thick along the coastal path. Once nearly wiped out by aggressive foreign species, the Mauna Lani has been ridding their coasts of these invaders so the replanted natives might thrive.

Kaneila Akaka, the Mauna Lani’s fulltime historian is the curator of it’s small museum. It’s housed in the green clapboarded, white-trim Parker Cottage and dedicated to the Hawaiian people. Around the grounds, ancient petroglyphs, secret ponds, lava tube caves, and submarine fresh water springs are some of the other discoveries I can explore with Akaka’s guidance.

The noonday sun propels me toward the Mauna Lani’s main beach, but I am again becalmed by four big old honus (Hawaiian green sea turtles.) Honus, like humans, are partial to the luxe treatment they get at the Mauna Lani. Each year baby turtles are raised in the Mauna Lani salt ponds protected from predators and then liberated back to the sea on the Fourth of July. Now protected throughout the islands, the honus are again safe to snooze on the beach.

Overtaken by a tremendous urge to snooze myself, I retire to my own Mauna Lani cocoon. It's a large room, darkened midday by closed shutters and gently cooled by (solar-powered) air conditioning. Dark woods, cool marble-topped tables and bamboo-rattan sofa and chairs are set against creamy white walls for a cool, serene feel. Three symmetrically intriguing shells are lit from underneath their frosted glass shelf on my headboard of woven palm. Creature comforts and Aveda potions run wild in the marble clad bathroom.

This morning, the sweet smell of ginger and the low morning sun embraced as I slid open the shutters. Leaning over the balcony, I studied a Humuhumunukunukuapua'a (Hawaii's state fish) swimming amongst the fallen red blossoms of hibiscus in the fishpond below. Then, I settled down to the task of choosing between lilikoi jelly and pineapple preserves for my croissant, while the birds insisted it was share and share alike at the Mauna Lani. I confess, I left them their booty.

Reef fish dart like bits of rainbows through the clear murmuring ponds that flow through and around the Mauna Lani creating an endlessly compelling and changing decor. One pond and its gentle jungle starts by the doorman, proceeds to mingle with the guests in the lobby, cascades over a series of ledges, encircles couples enjoying their cocktails and then meanders through an open air, palm and fern- filled corridor to join up with yet more ponds outside.

Yesterday, I spa'd. My spirit as well as my spin was revived at the new Mauna Lani spa, Fire and Ice. Passing the triangle of coconut palms, a Hawaiian symbol for life, I entered a small Hawaiian village. A lava-lined lane with and abundance of the plants Hawaiians still use for health and beauty, led me to a palm-thatched hale. There protected from the sun, but open to the smell of pikake (climbing jasmine), gardenia and ginger, Laura Burnette had the stones heated for my stone therapy.

First, she lavished my body with sweet-smelling tangerine and plumeria oils, then placed smooth, warm river rocks under my feet, hands and charkas. Finally, with long, strong strokes and larger, warmer rocks, Laura convinced my body to give up its ghosts of cares past. "Pink, clink" the rocks sang, energizing both me and the atmosphere.

Back at the spa’s main building details like tapa cloth coverings, wooden nails and craggy coconut wood sliced horizontally and embedded in simple oriental cherry wood furniture honor old Hawaii. Refreshed by ice water spiked with lemon grass, the warmth from the outdoor sauna saturated my bones. Mesmerized by the dance of the palms, the trade winds tickled and cooled as I dribbled over to the shower: a soft rendition of the Big Islands driving forces—the fire of Pele and the snows of Mauna Kea.

Tomorrow, I could play tennis, scuba dive or perfect my hula moves. I expect, however, I will take my cue from il'i Brown and his Japanese friend, and just continue to indulge my passions for hedonism and old Hawaii.

 By Kate Crawford          May 2002

LINKS WITH ATTITUDE

Here is the website of The Mauna Lani Bay and Bugalows. 

Check out their CanoeHouse Restaurant.