Now that the tacky T-shirts are gone, the experience is even better.

The Pacific Aviation Museum at Ford Island opened in December and is quiet, uncrowded, still undiscovered by the masses, which makes it a perfect time to visit.

There are more than old planes and yellowed maps to look at — there are very personal stories of bravery and loss.

To visit, you park in the Arizona Memorial parking lot, but there are security guards now to curtail the thefts of years prior. And as of this week, you don't have to bob and weave through the off-putting souvenir tents in the parking lot, where they sold shirts that said "Humu humu nuku nuku yadda yadda." Those are gone. Thanks, Dan Inouye.

You buy your tickets at the Bowfin (general $14, kama'aina, $10) and get on a bus to cross the bridge to Ford Island.

Video interviews of Pearl Harbor survivors set the stage. Sixty years later, these veterans still tear up as they recall that day.

The volunteer docents amble up amiably and strike up a conversation, offering up anecdotes beyond the text of each display. There is a gentle excitement in their eyes, like they're happy to have you there and anticipating your curiosity. It's clear this isn't a job or a hobby to them, but a calling.

The first display is a marvel and might be, for many, the centerpiece of the collection.

The scene depicts a Japanese Navy fighter preparing to take off for the attack on Pearl Harbor. The story then unfolds of the Zero fighter that crash-landed on Ni'ihau after sustaining damage in the bombing raid. Petty Officer 1st Class Shigenori Nishikaichi was able to win the sympathy of a Japanese worker living on Ni'ihau, and together, the two took hostages and terrorized the island.

The ordeal of the Ni'ihau villagers ended when Ben Kanahele, though shot three times by the pilot, killed him with his bare hands. Though the plane was picked apart by the U.S. military, looking to learn enemy secrets, its remains lay like a skeleton in the field where it had crashed for decades.

And here it is, through the generosity of the Robinson family and the work of volunteers, carefully assembled and lying like a fossil in the Aviation Museum. A panoramic photograph of the field where the Zero landed puts it in context. Even the tractor used to cut anti-aircraft furrows in the flat lands of Ni'ihau is there. It is like seeing irrefutable proof of a story so bold it seemed like legend.

Hangar 37 is just the first phase of the museum, with three more to follow. In years to come, it will certainly be as heavily traversed as other visitor attractions, but for now, while it is quiet, it can be enjoyed like a rare find or a private viewing.

Lee Cataluna's column runs Tuesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Reach her at 535-8172 or lcataluna@honoluluadvertiser.com.