Why Fool With Paradise? : The Big Island’s Extavagant Hyatt Regency Waikoloa Sometimes Seems More Fantasy Island Than True Hawaii

“Ah’m confused,” drawled the matron from South Carolina. “This looks more like an amusement park to me.”

Well, it is. Sort of.

Picture man-made waterfalls spilling into man-made lagoons alongside man-made canals backed up by man-made cliffs and you begin to understand why the lady was bewildered.

I mean, when was the last time you saw a train pull into a hotel lobby to pick up a guest? Or eyeballed a boat cruising through a jungle on underwater rails? A man-made jungle at that.

The fact of the matter is, this amusement park is really a hotel--the $360-million Hyatt Regency Waikoloa--which in September will celebrate the second anniversary of its opening.

And the idea for the train is to deliver guests between Waikoloa’s three hotel towers that face the milelong track.

Or guests can climb aboard one of those sleek Venetian-style boats with the crews all gussied up like Navy admirals. Never mind that the boats operate automatically. The young men and women in the gold braid uniforms act out the role of helmsmen in this 1990 version of Fantasy Island that’s being produced along the Big Island’s Kohala Coast.

What we have here is another Anaheim. All that’s missing is Sleeping Beauty’s Castle, a paddle wheeler and the Matterhorn.

At Waikoloa, man-made lava appears everywhere, which seems a bit odd since the island’s volcanoes are still spewing up the real stuff.

Those who knew and loved old Hawaii may find Waikoloa beyond comprehension. Gigantic and expensive, it is representative of other mega-resorts that are out of touch with the old, unspoiled Hawaii, the fragile beauty of which is rapidly disintegrating--along with a culture and gentleness of its people that was so special to these islands.

As the most expensive resort ever built, the Hyatt Regency Waikoloa features 1,241 rooms, along with eight restaurants, a dozen lounges, an immense health spa and enough water to float a fleet of ocean liners.

One of the world’s largest destination resorts, the Hyatt stretches across 64 acres of once-barren, lava-encrusted earth that previously rejected anything that walked, flew or grew. Now flamingos strut and peacocks preen in the man-made jungle, while dolphins leap in their own man-made lagoon.

Waikoloa was the fantasy of Christopher B. Hemmeter, the entrepreneur who built the Hyatt Regency in Waikiki, the enormously successful Hyatt Regency at Kaanapali Beach on Maui and the Westin Kauai with its Clydesdale horses, other man-made canals and a reflecting pool that would fit nicely beside a Grecian temple.

Remember, Hemmeter is a dreamer, and dreams are what he had in mind for vacationers when he developed the Hyatt Regency Waikoloa. (Once he predicted that the entire Kohala Coast would be lined with hotels, homes and condominiums--from Mauna Kea nearly to Kailua-Kona.)

The lady from South Carolina was on target--Waikoloa truly is an amusement park. A favorite attraction is a swim with the dolphins. But since Waikoloa posseses only six dolphins (and receives dozens of requests), a daily dolphin lottery is conducted. Thus, only a handful of guests win the chance to take the plunge.

Rising from an endless sea of black lava, the Hyatt Regency Waikoloa shocks the senses. Hemmeter transformed a stark moonscape into a tropical garden by spreading thousands of truckloads of topsoil over the lava, sprinkling it with tons of grass seed and transplanting more than 1,600 palm trees at $1,000 apiece.

The result is a do-it-yourself oasis.

Because Waikoloa cost a bundle, guests pay a bundle to vacation. The cheapest room goes for $215 per night. Add to this a $20.27 room tax. Then there’s the mandatory “aloha service fee” ($12.50) that goes to bellmen. (Question: Whatever happened to the much-ballyhooed “aloha spirit”?)

There’s more.

It costs $3.12 a day to use the room safe and $17 for the bus ride from the airport (in case you didn’t rent wheels). On top of this, guests are asked to cough up an extra $150 for the privilege of charging meals to their rooms, a sum that is refunded if one doesn’t run a tab.

All this is peanuts compared to the price of other Waikoloa fantasies.

Heading the list is a private picnic for two at 3,000-foot Lauhala Point, a secluded spot that’s reached by helicopter. The two-hour jaunt, which includes a flight over ranches and volcanoes, comes to a whopping $1,325 per couple. An extra hour runs the tab up another $760.

Other couples are delivered on sunset dinner cruises, complete with a valet. Back at the dock, the couple is whisked away by chauffeured limousine back to the womb at Waikoloa. The five-hour package figures out to $1,470 per twosome.

There are myriad other choices. Take the five-course meal at historic Hulihee Palace, the former retreat of Hawaii’s kings and queens in the village of Kailua-Kona. This dinner features the favorite dishes of King Kalakaua and a check for $2,745--the price for four guests.

The same foursome can join an eight-hour tour of the 2,200-acre Kahua Ranch, helping round up cattle with the paniolos (Hawaiian cowboys) for a mere $2,150, which figures out to a few bucks under $270 per hour.

Still, not all fantasies pay off in favor of Waikoloa. A while back, a group of yuppies guzzled $2,600 worth of Dom Perignon at a luncheon that was pre-billed at $450. The hotel took a bath; the yuppies walked off with hangovers.

One idea that never got off the ground, much to the relief of vacationers searching for solitude, involved formula car-racing lessons. Imagine coming to this laid-back island and gearing up like Mario Andretti.

On Hawaii’s famous Parker Ranch, Waikoloa’s guests hunt wild boar, wild turkey, goats and sheep that wind up on the dinner table back at the hotel. The price for playing Jungle Jim is $825 for the first hunter and $395 apiece for others joining the safari.

Not all fantasies are so expensive. A six-hour bird-watching safari is bid at $226, and there are horseback rides ($40), tours of Parker Ranch ($30.80), a trip by ocean submarine ($67), visits to the volcanoes ($45) and star-gazing cruises by sailboat ($55). Waikoloa lists other choices, including golf at two major courses ($60 and $75 for 18 holes).

Waikoloa bills itself as “the most spectacular resort on earth.” A brochure gushes: “The senses are indulged, passions are requited and the pursuit of happiness is limited only by your imagination.” (Pass the Dramamine, please.)

James Michener got carried away as well. “It’s the kind of place God would have built if he had sufficient cash flow,” declared the novelist in a hotel public relations release.

And many guests do seem to agree. Vacationing with his family, actor Ron Masak of television’s “Murder, She Wrote,” commented that he “couldn’t find a flaw.”

Still, as the lady from South Carolina said: “I can’t figure out whether I’m in Hawaii or Venice . . . except for the palms.”

The resort’s $2-million Grand Staircase descends to a saltwater lagoon boiling with tropical fish. Meanwhile, the train races back and forth at eight-minute intervals.

And then, well . . . there are the statues. Guests argue that Waikoloa displays more statuary even than Forest Lawn. Peering from the foliage are Buddhas, nymphs and an assortment of other creatures. It gets downright spooky at times. Especially at night when one comes eyeball to eyeball with a marble dragon.

Because Waikoloa was carved out of a wasteland of lava that flows to the ocean itself, it was necessary to create a beach. The truth be told, it’s not much of a beach. Furthermore, it was necessary to haul in each grain of sand. One can windsurf, but it’s a disappointingly short ride. On the other hand, sunbathers are lulled to sleep by the splashing of waterfalls.

If there is one thing developer Chris Hemmeter loves, it is water. Water and art. Guests who miss the train or the boat can stroll down the milelong Museum Walk with its $3.5 million worth of Pacific, Asian and other art that one curator labeled “junk” and a guest praised as “inspirational.”

The path is strewn with tribal masks, ceremonial masks, drums, spears, Thai carvings and paintings, along with dozens of other artifacts gathered from Bangkok to Bali. A fountain from Italy gurgles in one courtyard. And there’s the “Chinese” vase that was cast in Encino.

Still, Hawaii creates its own magic. Trade winds continue to funnel up volcano slopes, and the sky smolders at sundown. It is the hour when guests ride the train to the End of the Line Bar and cross a swinging bridge to fill the soul with one of Hawaii’s memorable sunsets on the terrace of the Kona Provision Co.

The restaurant features seafood gazpacho, fresh Pacific fish (sauteed, grilled, poached or blackened), charred sashimi and grilled scallops on a bed of pineapple. Desserts range from Kona sundaes topped with mango liqueur to chocolate cheese cake and key lime pie.

Of Waikoloa’s eight restaurants, Donatoni’s rates high for both atmosphere and fare. Its pastas can’t be faulted and the entrees are guaranteed to please the fussiest gourmet. (The check one night for a pasta dish, a salad and one glass of wine came to a trifle over $49.)

Add to this Italian melodies and soft Pacific breezes and this could be a romantic haunt along Italy’s Amalfi Drive. But isn’t this supposed to be Hawaii?

As a self-contained resort, Waikoloa takes on all requests. Couples wishing to tie the knot need only pick up the phone and dial 51.

Faster than they can say “I do,” a justice of the peace appears on the scene. Once a couple requested an underwater wedding. No problem, said the staff. Within minutes, a padre decked out in scuba gear was on the scene, where rumor has it that the ceremony was performed to the tune of “Tiny Bubbles.”

Honeymooners from Southern California lived out their fantasy by plunking down $10,000 for four nights in Waikoloa’s Presidential Suite. After this they passed out another ten grand for every fantasy they could squeeze in before jetting back to the real world.

Still, there’s more to the Kohala Coast than the Hyatt Regency Waikoloa. Next door, the Royal Waikoloan, with its splendid white-sand beach, faces Anaehoomalu Bay, which is where King Kamehameha came to cool it on hot summer days.

Scattered through the grounds are royal fish ponds and petroglyphs that date centuries before the first tourist waded ashore. At the Royal Waikoloan, old Hawaii is kept alive with hukilaus, where visitors learn to net fish in the traditional island style, and by beach boys who still teach guests how to paddle a canoe. A harpist plays in the Tiare Room, and mai tais are poured in a pub called the Lava Tube.

The development of the Kona coast began 25 years ago with Laurance Rockefeller’s magnificent Mauna Kea Beach Hotel.

And although Rockefeller has long since bid aloha to the Big Island, Mauna Kea remains at the top of the heap. Only a few miles down the coast, the spectacular Mauna Lani Bay Hotel at Kalahuipua’a gets similar raves by the Marco Polos of this world, who come to snorkel, sail, play golf and tennis, join picnic cruises and give chase to Big Horn sheep and boar in the wilds of Hualalai. With its grace and style (its atrium is an art work), Mauna Lani has proved immensely popular.

Although possessing man-made lakes (on the golf course) and a beach fashioned by workmen, Mauna Lani lacks the amusement park atmosphere of Waikoloa.

At Mauna Lani, the beach is smack on the ocean, as is another natural beach that also serves guests. As for Rockefeller’s Mauna Kea, it has long been recognized as a world-class resort, with the finest natural beach on the entire island. While neither resort represents old Hawaii, their popularity has been proved by countless repeat visitors.

The Kohala Coast continues to stir. Other openings are planned by Ritz-Carlton, the Prince hotels, Hilton and the Four Seasons. A shopping complex similar to Whaler’s Village on Maui--complete (yawn) with still another man-made lagoon--is being readied next door to the Hyatt Regency Waikoloa.

Still, miraculously, pockets of peace remain. Hidden among the lava below Mt. Hualalai is Kona Village, with its thatched hales like those found in Fiji, the new Hebrides, Tonga, Tahiti and Samoa.

No cars, no telephones, no television sets, no crowds, no discos, no pollution. Only the sweetness of this old Hawaii experience. Arriving at Kona Village, comedian Arte Johnson described the sensation as “like meeting yourself for the first time.”

Earlier, before a disastrous lava eruption, thousands of Hawaiians lived along this coast. Petroglyphs remain, mynah birds sing from the branches of Hau trees, and torches flame in the evening, lighting paths between bungalows featuring king-size beds, refrigerators and wall-to-wall carpeting.

At Kona Village, guests sunbathe on a black-sand beach and the air is filled with the fragrance of plumeria. Remote and peaceful, Kona Village was created for the vacationer who welcomes a special brand of escape.

In all there are 125 hales , each perched on stilts. Some rise by the sea. Others are hidden among palms and great bursts of bougainvillea and keawe trees. It’s Polynesia without problems--a place to sun and swim and to climb off the cardiac carousel on which the world revolves so furiously.

In the beginning, guests arrived at Kona Village by air taxi. Others came by sea. The resort was totally isolated. Now a narrow road cuts through mountains of lava from Queen Kaahumanu Highway and loops its way to this peaceful plot where vacationers are lulled by an ocean as peaceful as a rainbow. They poke through burial caves and study the remains of an ancient Hawaiian temple.

Days end with a contented sigh at Kona Village. The sun strikes flames among the clouds and trade winds blow through keawe and palm trees . . . and soon the night is as silent as a falling star.