Our Honolulu
Toilet rule going down the tubes
By Bob Krauss
Advertiser Columnist
Today we celebrate a very special occasion in Our Honolulu. After 47 years, Annette Lamariana Nahinu is finally getting a sewer line for her restaurant at Sand Island.
At age 87, she borrowed $200,000 to pay for it. "I want to be around to see that the sewer line gets connected," she said.
Borrowing the money was the easy part because Lamariana Restaurant is one of the more colorful and successful institutions in town. Every time somebody flushed the toilet in her restaurant and bar, however, Annette held her breath for fear the holding tank would overflow.
She lived with the alarm turned on 24 hours a day in her office and bedroom. If the tank began to get full, she called the pumping truck. Nary a drop spilled over, but it was a terrible way to live.
Everybody said, "Annette, you have to connect to the sewer line." It took a former governor of Hawai'i, a young attorney and a stack of paperwork a foot high, but she finally managed.
Annette makes up in energy what she lacks in size. If she didn't hang onto the rail, the trade wind would blow her into the marina beside the restaurant. If that did happen, every sailor at the Ke'ehi Boat Harbor would jump in and save her. Her feminine charm and determination got her that sewer connection.
"This was an empty lot where people dumped rubbish before I moved here," she explained. "It took me three years to clear out old tires, parts of automobiles and parts of refrigerators."
She built piers for a marina and a little yacht club to serve food. Every time a South Sea restaurant closed — like Don the Beachcomber's, Trader Vic's or the Barefoot Bar — Annette went to the auction and bought giant clam shells, glass balls, wicker chairs, tikis, koa tables, etc.
The result is an authentic museum of the South Seas a la Dorothy Lamour that attracts customers like flies. And makes the toilet flush a lot.
"All I had was a month-to-month lease until George went to the Harbors Division and got it put up for bid," said Annette. "He never charged me a cent."
George's last name is Ariyoshi, an attorney who happened by while she was carrying a bag of cement for the marina and felt sorry for her and later was elected governor.
Getting back to the sewer line, Annette discovered that it would have to run across Damon Estate land. The estate trustees weren't sure this would be in their best interests although the easement was supported by both the state and city. Her attorney shook his head.
"I went to George again," said Annette. Some trustees came out for dinner, and Annette applied her charm. They decided that a license would work better than an easement.
In any event, work will soon start on the sewer line, and Annette will be able to retract her standing order: "Don't flush unless absolutely necessary."
