Hawaii’s Department of Land and Natural Resources is tasked with managing and protecting nearly 1.3 million acres of state lands, beaches and coastal waters, as well as 750 miles of coastline (the fourth-longest state jurisdiction nationwide).
That’s a daunting mandate, even with ample resources at the ready. Unfortunately, that’s not the case for DLNR, which is chronically underfunded and understaffed due to inadequate state budget allocation.
So, it’s puzzling then that the panel guiding the agency, the Board of Land and Natural Resources, would create a new land management responsibility — especially one to which DLNR itself is opposed.
Last week, BLNR members voted to take ownership of Cromwell’s ocean swimming cove on private property between Black Point and Diamond Head. The site was developed in 1938 as a private boat basin by wealthy heiress Doris Duke. BLNR’s move follows a vote in April to reject a plan pitched by the historic Doris Duke estate, also known as Shangri La, to destroy the swimming cove, but leave intact public access to the shoreline.
Board members now seem optimistic that sizable liability risks tied to the site’s 140-foot-long rock breakwater can be abated. They want DLNR to shoulder what’s sure to be a challenging — and potentially expensive — management effort for the sake of posterity, preserving a small-scale recreational resource with a bit of historic cachet for generations to come. The sentiment has the feel of aloha. But the reality? Not so much.
Historic Hawai‘i Foundation has maintained that the site’s former boat basin, Shangri La Boat Harbor, is a recognized historic structure in its own right as it serves as a link to “lives of persons significant” to Hawaii’s past. It does not oppose adding rocks or other items to the sandy-bottom basin to deter risky dives and jumps into the water, but does oppose destruction of a historic feature.
Even so, the Doris Duke estate’s owner, the Doris Duke Foundation for Islamic Art, had proposed scrapping the idyllic cove because despite posting signs and security guards and erecting a fence, it could not effectively stop the plunge-takers. It has pointed out that in recent years, dangerous behavior has been on the rise with social media publicizing the cove. In 2014, the nonprofit added a 6-foot high aluminum fence to the edge of the interior wall. It reduced jumps and dives there — but some people now plunge from the top of the fence.
Struggling with this quandary, the foundation offered to simply give the property to the state. Stunningly, BLNR bit.
DLNR staff had rightly recommended against accepting ownership, partly because the state would inherit liability for such accidents that in the past included two people becoming paraplegics and one becoming a quadriplegic.
A state law protects Hawaii taxpayers from liability for injuries in the natural environment or on improved property within parks or trail systems as long as hazards are disclosed by proper signs. But as man-made structure in the ocean, Cromwell’s would not be protected.
What’s more, even if risky behavior could be eliminated today, the cash-strapped DLNR lacks adequate resources to properly handle the site’s management.
BLNR’s embrace of the possibility of future public recreation over present maintenance and liability concerns, which could result in taxpayers picking up lawsuit-related bills, is a misstep.
It’s true that some liability could be lessened because the foundation will keep ownership of the inland retaining wall that includes an easement — concrete stairs leading down to the water — for public shoreline access. Still, the state’s perceived deep pockets come at the expense of taxpayers.
Rather than moving forward to finalize the transaction that would give it ownership of Cromwell’s swimming hole, BLNR should hit the pause button. The land board should reconsider this plunge into a risky deal.
