For years, the ocean has been eroding parts of Maui’s Kaanapali Beach, slowly shrinking the shoreline and threatening the foundations of the hotels and condos lining the famed stretch of sand.
The images aren’t pretty: palm trees falling into the ocean, parts of a beach walkway collapsing, sandbags piled up in front of the Hyatt Regency Maui. Not a good look for a highly promoted destination that attracts 500,000 tourists a year.
To address this problem, the state and the Kaanapali Operations Association (KOA), which represents 11 hotels and condos, two shopping centers and two golf courses, came up with a plan: a major $10 million beach restoration project, which involves digging up 75,000 cubic yards of sand offshore with a clamshell bucket for beach restoration and berm enhancement on two stretches of shoreline. The costs would be shared more or less equally.
The hotels would get a reprieve, and the state restores an important stretch of public beach for all. A final environmental impact statement (FEIS), completed in December, described the project as “an effective and beneficial step in coastal adaptation to sea level rise.” The Legislature allocated the state’s share of the cost — $5.2 million — in 2020. The project has been in the works since 2006, so good to go, right?
Were it that simple. In March, the state Board of Land and Natural Resources (BLNR) withdrew its support for the project, declining to approve a memorandum of understanding between the state and KOA. The unanimous vote came after strong opposition from Native Hawaiians and others who objected to using public funds to benefit private property owners and tourists. Also, “there were many who testified that the removal of off-shore sand to replenish the beach was culturally offensive,” said BLNR chair Dawn Chang. Some even warned of a Mauna Kea-type protest should the project proceed.
Understood — and it’s high time that state policies start to firmly meet climate-change realities. But throwing down the gauntlet will not stop the the seas from rising, the sand from disappearing, or the shoreline infrastructure from degrading. The FEIS described what could happen if no action is taken, or if action is deferred: the “unplanned” removal of infrastructure as it fails, which “severely limits response options”; loss of access to the shore via the Kaanapali Beachwalk; the disappearance of portions of the beach; and erosion of land into the sea, increasing turbidity and “nearshore biological impacts.” In short, an uncontrolled mess.
A compromise is needed to allow some work to proceed, and the sooner the better. While BLNR’s action did not kill the project, it effectively opened the door to some changes.
First, KOA cannot expect the state to invest in beach replenishment in perpetuity to protect its business interests. The estimated life span of the beach-restoration proposal is, at most, 20 years. The businesses themselves need to invest in long-term solutions, including managed retreat from the shoreline — fearsomely expensive, yes, but the best, and sometimes the only, practical way to live with climate change.
Second, those protesting the project need to recognize that the public interest includes resilient beaches and a healthy tourism economy, which beach replenishment can provide.
Through it all, the BLNR needs to help stakeholders come up with solutions by making clear what it’s willing to accept to protect this iconic shoreline.