A pu‘uhonua, or “refuge,” is a concept enshrined within Hawaiian culture. Perhaps that is what the homeless campers hoped they had created near the Waianae Small Boat Harbor.
While in the best of times the self-styled Pu‘uhonua o Waianae has managed a modicum of self-governance and stability, more recently some detrimental effects have become apparent.
This underscores the need for state officials to work on containing the damage being done, and toward the resettlement of these people to more appropriate shelter.
The problems include the diversion of water billed to the harbor users; uncontrolled trash and human waste; and damage to the sensitive environment supporting the native opae ula, or red shrimp.
The state Department of Land and Natural Resources, which controls the state-owned property, documented these issues. And they rightly spelled the withdrawal of House Bill 2754, a measure that glossed over problems that had arisen on the 20-acre site.
Before it was withdrawn by the House Health and Human Services Committee, the measure aimed to exempt the site from criminal trespass prosecution, shielding it from the homeless “sweeps” that have cleared other unauthorized encampments.
The intent, according to the bill, was to “protect the welfare of the people and communities that may be established on state land, especially when those people and communities offer valuable lessons or models for how to address social challenges.”
This rosy characterization cannot conceal the fact that this just isn’t true. The encampment exists more as a coping mechanism devised by those who don’t find what they’re looking for within the state’s system of transitional shelter and social services. But it’s by no means a “model” of success.
Now that lawmakers have jettisoned this bill, the next step is for DLNR and stakeholders to address some of the problems. It makes sense to have temporary mitigating elements: portable toilets and dumpters to help keep things clean, a water source so that the community doesn’t unfairly tap the harbor’s own supply and some means of protecting the shrimp ecology as well.
Twinkle Borge is the leader of the village, and she has been outspoken in its defense. The people have not been at fault for all the problems laid at their feet, she said, and they have worked to establish rules for the common good and to assure that children get to school and are supervised.
Whatever the correct assessment of blame might be, it’s still plain that the sensitive shoreline environment can’t healthfully sustain this makeshift village over the long term. This is why the state and counties have set up strict rules for any use, conventional or otherwise, near the water’s edge.
Above all, children need more stability in their lives than a campsite — especially one without oversight for potential problems — can afford them. Without proper sanitation, for example, there could be a disease outbreak that goes undetected and unchecked.
Borge said residents have been willing to lease the property, or to find and transition to a new place. An expression of willingness to be part of the solution is encouraging.
The state should take them up on this, for the short term. For starters, residents should help cover the costs of water, sanitation and upkeep. If there are jobs available to enable campers to pay their own freight, so much the better.
Kahauiki Village, established for once-homeless individuals near Keehi Lagoon, comes closer to a “model” solution than this. Its offer of jobs for the residents, who also pay rent, is part of the answer needed for Waianae, as well.
And if officials ever do establish a temporary “tent city” for homeless campers, they would want a site that solves more problems than it creates. The boat harbor is not such a place.