The aridness of Lanai, in dry contrast to the lushness of Kauai or Maui, may be stark and startling, but it suggests the peculiar history and charms of this small island west of Maui. These were once fields of pineapples, and this was known as Pineapple Island; the Dole Company owned 98 percent of Lanai for nearly 100 years before moving its plantations to less expensive shores. David Murdock, a billionaire entrepreneur, took it over in 1985 and moved to put it on the luxury tourism map, building two high-end resorts, one by Manele Bay and another 10 miles away, overlooking the only town, Lanai City. It was a tough sell. When Larry Ellison, a founder of Oracle, bought Lanai from a discouraged Mr. Murdock in 2012, he was bursting with ideas about how to make this island finally work — starting with multimillion-dollar renovations at the resorts, but including the notion of transforming Lanai into an international model of an environmentally sustainable community.
Long before Mr. Ellison came on the scene, a devoted sort of traveler has been drawn to Lanai, in search of a rough and rural Hawaii that once was — before the walls of beach resorts, condominiums, high-end restaurants and beaches crawling with swimmers, surfers and snorkelers. After coming to Lanai over the last three years, I, too, embraced its wind-swept barrenness and isolation, the harsh challenges in traveling deeply rutted and dusty roads to find its beaches, trails and ruins, even the relative lack of things to do after sundown. Still, a return trip in June made clear that things are changing. Mr. Ellison’s presence can be felt almost everywhere: the construction at the resorts; the spiffing-up of Lanai City, the onetime plantation town; the talk of long-term plans for desalination plants; agriculture; middle-class housing; and even a college campus and a film festival. Everyone is watching as the billionaire visionary seeks to change Lanai to his liking while, presumably, remaining faithful to the idea of it as the place to find Hawaii as it once was.
From the outset, I should stress that the way Hawaii once was is not for everyone. There are more restaurants, bars, hotels and places to surf, swim and snorkel in Maui and the Big Island. (Those islands are also easier on your knees, tires and wallet.) As high-end as the two Four Seasons resorts on Lanai aspire to be — and these days, Mr. Ellison’s crews are bang-bang-banging away, racing to transform them into the kind of destination that people will think nothing of spending $650 a night to enjoy — the St. Regis Princeville Resort in Kauai, to name one of many impressive options spread across the islands, matches it in setting and grandeur without quite the forced isolation.
Being a tourist on Lanai can be as exhausting as it is exhilarating. There is just one gas station on all of Lanai’s 141 square miles, and not a single traffic light. The population is just over 3,000, most clustered in the plantation homes that make up Lanai City. Three roads are paved; the island is crisscrossed with a largely unmapped network of red-dirt roads — impossibly rutted and rough, throwing up clouds of dust that provide a thick coat over wheels, fenders, clothes and shoes.
Still with me? Good.
There are two ways to experience Lanai, and visitors who come here can initially be divided into two groups: Those who rent jeeps, and those who don’t. It is entirely possible to fly in, or jump on the 45-minute intoxicatingly beautiful ferry trip from Maui, to the waiting luxury Mercedes-Benz minibuses to the Four Seasons Hotel at Manele Bay or the Lodge at Koele and disappear into these islands-within-an-island. An adventure would consist of braving a trip from one Four Seasons Resort to the other Four Seasons resort.
Alternately, you can get a room at the charming Hotel Lanai, snag a Jeep, throw some towels, sturdy shoes and walking sticks into the back seat and set out to explore one of the last truly undeveloped Hawaiian islands.
It’s actually not a choice. Do both.
by Adam Nagourney, NY Times | Read more:
Images: Kahekili's Leap and Club Lanai, markk