Researchers transform Coconut Island into lab

By Katherine Nichols
Advertiser Staff Writer

COCONUT ISLAND — Welcome to a place with only one operating car. A few adventurous marine researchers try getting around on rusted bikes, but run the risk that a wheel might suddenly fly off.

Coconut Island is home to marine researchers from the Hawai‘i Institute of Marine Biology and is a two-minute boat trip from Kane‘ohe. Richard Ambo • The Honolulu Advertiser

Moku O Lo'e, as it is called in Hawaiian, may be best be known for its role in the television series "Gilligan's Island." Today it is home to the Hawai'i Institute of Marine Biology. It isn't meant to be a secret, but many people don't know much about what happens on Coconut Island.

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A brief history: Before 1930 — Owned by the Bishop Estate, the island was little more than a haven for shepherds and local fishermen. 1935 — Christian Holmes, owner of Hawaiian Tuna Packers (now Coral Tuna), bought the island for his retreat. Its popular name came from the coconut trees scattered about the 12 acres. Holmes more than doubled the size of the island by dredging the main sand bar in Kane'ohe Bay, creating several fish ponds in the process. These ponds are still in use by the marine biology institute. 1947 — The late Edwin Pauley of Pauley Oil (and the Pauley Pavilion at UCLA) became one of several owners and eventually became the sole owner of the island. 1948 — A marine laboratory was set up in old military buildings. 1965 — Pauley contributed money toward first permanent lab structure. 1981— Coconut Island was put up for sale after Pauley dies. Mid-1990s — Pauley family gave the University of Hawai'i the money to buy the island, as well money as for a new library, classrooms, lunchroom and up-to-date laboratory. 1998 — Modern additions completed.

The island boasts modern laboratories. But there is no place to buy bread or milk. And every child's daily route to school includes a boat ride. Though Coconut Island is just a two-minute boat trip from Kane'ohe, it makes O'ahu feel like the Mainland.

Sharon and Wayne Nakamoto have lived here for 15 years. Sharon especially likes the fact that her two children, 11 and 13, have no idea what it's like to live near a street.

"The kids have the freedom to ride their bikes and swim," she said. "They're free to come and go. Everybody knows them. I think it's healthy for them, not being cooped in a house."

Each morning they leave at about 7:15 a.m., taking the boat shuttle to the pier, then making the short drive to school and to Sharon's work. Each evening, Wayne, who works as the maintenance mechanic on Coconut Island, picks them up at the pier.

As a parrot squawked in the background, Sharon said her husband has never lived in an apartment because he likes his privacy too much. But when pressed if he really had privacy on the island, Wayne chuckled, "Not really. You live at work. They always find you."

Limited access

Visitors are restricted and monitored, something that confuses and frustrates some people who were raised in the area. "A lot of us grew up fishing from the pier," said Dane Cullen, the security officer for Coconut Island. "Now you gotta inform people who have been doing it their whole life that it's state property, and they can't fish. It's hard for them."

Even so, Cullen, who played in the island's once-clear lagoons as a child, throws a piece of his sandwich to an ulua circling in the clear water and says that "locals are the most understanding."

There is good reason for limiting access to those with special passes from a sponsor. Many of the estimated 100-150 professors, graduate students and support staff working on the island also use the surrounding reef as their laboratory.

Bicycles are a common transportation mode on Coconut Island because there is only one operating car. Richard Ambo • The Honolulu Advertiser

Other live animals include corals, bottlenosed dolphins, a false killer whale and a variety of fish. All must be protected. Any disruption could damage years of effort.

To get the many researchers to and from work and their natural labs, there are skiffs. Spares can be found upside down, out of the water, next to open tool boxes and engines in various states of disrepair.

In the lagoon near the boat area, Ken Longenecker emerges from swimming laps late one afternoon. Letting down a pony tail that falls to the middle of his back, he admits that "it takes a unique personality to stay out here."

The one trait he finds most useful? "Tolerance," laughed the 37-year-old who has lived on the island for three years.

Getting off the island after 10 p.m. can be tricky. The boat shuttle, which is operated by security officers, officially stops at that time.

Graduate student Timothy Fitzgerald prepares for a shark experiment. Sharks kept on the island are released after being used for research. Richard Ambo • The Honolulu Advertiser

Conklin, who is earning his doctorate in zoology, rolls his eyes. "It's 1 a.m. and it's raining and you just want to go home and go to bed."

But maybe the last person didn't shuttle over a boat. The dock is empty. His desperate solution? Swim. In the middle of the night. In Kane'ohe Bay, one of the best places to study sharks.

Does this make him nervous?

He folds his arms and nods.

Dress code variable

Across the grass from the graduate students' house, the atmosphere inside the new lab is in stark contrast to its tropical exterior. Pressed white lab coats are juxtaposed against the typical shorts, T-shirt, and slippers worn by most of the researchers in the older lab.

Ross Langston, Katie Laing and Eric Conklin enjoy the near-but-far little piece of paradise. Coconut Island’s Kane‘ohe Bay location gives the researchers with an abundance of reef life up close. Richard Ambo • The Honolulu Advertiser

Even at the island's most distant point, work beckons. Across a rickety wooden bridge in huts that serve as labs a mere foot or two above sea level, Conklin points past the outdoor research tanks to his most frequent study area: the reef below three stone steps leading into the ocean.

Back across the bridge, piles of debris — not to be mistaken for rubbish — fill an area near the labs. It's jokingly referred to as hoarding, and more delicately known as thrift. Research associate Katie Laing explained the importance of saving, for example, old bleach bottles: "You might need them as floats!"

It's an existence with constant reminders of unconventional isolation. On one edge of the island stand the remains of a 20-foot long stone-step bridge that starts on land and ends up in the middle of the water.

At one time it led to the net house, where former owner Christian Holmes stored his fish nets, as well as the bountiful shells and shark jaws he collected (all of which were stolen, Helfrich said, when World War II began).

The house eventually crumbled and was torn down, but the stairs are concrete and appear capable of outlasting everything. The people of Coconut Island call it "The Bridge to Nowhere."

But perhaps not so strangely, it goes exactly where everyone here wants to be: the ocean.