If you've driven past the old Mormon church on Kūhiō Highway this year and wondered why there's scaffolding where a pew used to be, the answer connects to something you may have noticed on the other end of the North Shore: the bathroom line at Hāʻena State Park finally got shorter.
Both changes trace back to the same 30-person nonprofit. The Hanalei Initiative and its partner, Hui Makaʻāinana o Makana, spent the better part of a decade solving two problems that neither the county nor the state had money to fix on its own. One project just finished. The other is under construction right now. Together they say something about how this stretch of coastline actually gets built, which has very little to do with government budgets and a lot to do with who's willing to set money aside instead of spending it.
The Restroom the Park Paid for Itself
For years, the only bathroom at Hāʻena State Park sat near Kē'ē Beach and the Kalalau Trailhead, a five to ten minute walk from where most visitors parked. That changed in June 2026, when a new comfort station opened at the entrance parking lot and was formally handed over to the state.
What makes this handover unusual isn't the building. It's who paid for it and how. Hui Makaʻāinana o Makana, the community group chartered in 1999 to steward Hāʻena, and The Hanalei Initiative have operated the park's reservation, parking, and shuttle system since it reopened after the 2020 pandemic closure. For roughly four years, instead of spending every dollar of that fee revenue on day-to-day operations, they set a portion aside. That set-aside is what built the new facility, moss rock sourced from the site included, with solar-powered aerobic and UV treatment handling the wastewater.
State Parks administrator Alan Carpenter called it a first for Hawaiʻi: a nonprofit community group leading the design, planning, and financing of an improvement inside a state park. Hui assistant director Billy Kinney, a lineal descendant of Hāʻena and Hanalei, prepared the cultural impact analysis himself, and archaeological monitoring during excavation confirmed no historic properties were affected.
Compare that to Waiʻānapanapa State Park on Maui, another reservation-capped, fee-charging park that needed the same kind of upgrade. There, the comfort station is moving forward the conventional way, through taxpayer dollars and a state capital improvement budget rather than years of set-aside visitor fees. Two parks with nearly identical access models, and only one of them turned its own gate revenue into a finished building before the state spent a cent.
If you live on the North Shore, this is worth knowing not because it changes your morning walk, but because it tells you something about how Hāʻena actually functions. The 900-person daily visitor cap and the fee structure that locals sometimes grumble about are the same mechanism that just paid for a septic system without touching the county's general fund.
The Same Nonprofit, a Different Kind of Building
Walk two miles into town and you'll find The Hanalei Initiative's other project: Hale Kākoʻo O Hanalei, thirteen affordable studio apartments rising on the site of the former Hanalei Mormon Church, just off Kūhiō Highway near the post office, St. William's Catholic Church, and Waiʻoli Huiʻia Church.
The nonprofit secured the three-quarter-acre property in 2024 when a local supporter cut a $4.6 million check to buy it, then leased it back to The Hanalei Initiative with an option to purchase within three years. The total project, building and land combined, runs $9.6 million.
In August 2025, the project got a jolt. Priscilla Chan and Mark Zuckerberg, who own a home in Kīlauea and have supported The Hanalei Initiative since 2020, contributed $2.3 million toward Hale Kākoʻo. That single gift pushed total funding to $7.9 million, with $1.7 million still needed, and according to executive director Joel Guy, it moved the construction timeline up by nearly five years.
The housing is aimed at a specific gap. Hanalei's home values have pushed the people who keep the town running, teachers, lifeguards, firefighters, out to longer commutes or off the North Shore entirely. Project manager Dane Smith, who also works in emergency services, put it plainly: he sees it firsthand, how few of the area's own ocean rescue staff can still afford to live where they work.
| Hāʻena Comfort Station | Hale Kākoʻo O Hanalei | |
|---|---|---|
| What it solves | No restroom near park entrance | No housing for essential workers |
| Funded by | Four years of park shuttle and parking fees | Donor gifts, including $2.3M from Chan/Zuckerberg |
| Total cost | Built from set-aside operating revenue | $9.6 million ($4.6M land, $5M building) |
| Status | Completed and transferred to the state, June 2026 | Under construction, funding gap of $1.7M remains |
| Who benefits | Residents and visitors arriving at the park | Teachers, lifeguards, healthcare workers, firefighters |
What This Says About Who Actually Builds Here
Neither project waited on a county bond measure or a state legislative session. One converted visitor fees into infrastructure. The other converted philanthropic relationships into housing. Both moved because a small, community-rooted organization decided the wait for public funding wasn't worth the cost of doing nothing.
That's a different story than the one most outsiders assume about Hanalei, that it's simply become an enclave priced out of reach. The truth living here is more layered: the same forces that make housing expensive, tourism revenue and outside wealth, are also the ones being redirected, deliberately, into keeping the town functional for the people who serve it.
If you've been curious about the construction fencing on Kūhiō Highway, you're watching thirteen studio apartments take shape for the people who staff Hanalei's schools and beaches. If you noticed the shorter bathroom line at Hāʻena this summer, you were using something the park itself paid for. Neither happened because a government agency wrote a check. Both happened because a nonprofit with deep roots here decided to build rather than wait.
The Hanalei Initiative is still raising the remaining $1.7 million for Hale Kākoʻo. Anyone interested in visiting the property or contributing can reach the project directly through The Hanalei Initiative.
If you're watching how the North Shore is changing, whether you already call Princeville or Hanalei home or you're weighing what it means to buy into this community, these are the kinds of details that don't show up on a listing sheet. E Komo Mai. If you'd like a longer conversation about what's shifting in this market and what it means for property here, Cheree Rapozo has been watching this coastline for decades and is always happy to talk story.