Kauai, the ‘Garden Isle,’ Begins to Bloom in Wake of Hurricane’s Wrath : Disaster: But still missing is the green of tourist dollars, vital to the local economy. Residents turn to each other more than ever for support.

Frances Mizutani, 75, sat on her front stoop and offered a tour of her three-bedroom house with a wave of her hand. She did not have to budge an inch.

“My sewing room was in that corner,” she said, jabbing a finger through the open air. “And that’s my recliner, where I watched ‘The Young and the Restless.’ ”

Two months after the most powerful storm in a century pummeled the Hawaiian island of Kauai, Mizutani’s house still has no walls or roof, not to mention telephone or electricity. For weeks she slept in a tent by the river, but the dirt eventually got to her. The widow now spends the night in a tiny room next door.

“You sit and you cry. You sit and you cry,” she said, her eyes welling up. “But crying doesn’t help much. . . . I’m coming out of it now. I’m all right. I’m not the only one that’s lost everything. There’s a lot of us. That’s a little bit uplifting.”

Roughly a third of Kauai’s people lost their homes when Hurricane Iniki tore across the island on Sept. 11, causing more than $1.6 billion in damage. Today, they are doubling up with friends and relatives, holing up in any bit of their house still intact, or camping out. Thousands are coping with cold showers, hand washing their clothes and relying on noisy generators to keep food cold.

A monumental cleanup effort and fall rains have restored Kauai’s landscape to its postcard beauty. Gone is the drab, dirty, littered look of the morning after the storm. Fresh leaves again grace trees blown bare by the hurricane, and sugar cane reaches for the sky. But it may take much longer for the green of tourist dollars to return to “The Garden Isle.”

The few hotels that can still operate now take in relief workers and construction crews, as well as homeless Kauaians. Overcrowding, unemployment and the day-to-day frustrations of a primitive lifestyle are taking a toll. Domestic abuse is up. More people are seeking help for stress and suffering from nightmares. Some children are regressing, whining or wetting their beds.

But what’s most remarkable, observers say, is that such behavior problems are not more serious or violent. Deborah Goebert, who assessed stress- and storm-related injuries on Kauai for the University of Hawaii Medical School, says the situation could be “200, 300 times worse.” The people of this rural community, it seems, are drawing strength from each other.

“I think we’re real fortunate here compared to Florida” said Diana Boyd, a Lihue sales clerk. “We don’t have the looting, the fear of someone breaking into your house because the windows are gone. Since the community is small, it’s kind of united.”

The attitude is evident from the gentle way Kauai residents wave to each other at intersections to the potluck suppers they share in the evenings. Hand-painted signs thank relief workers. When a disaster aid center closed recently in Anahola, the town staged a Hawaiian send-off, complete with hula and music. Wallace Stickney, the silver-haired chief of Federal Emergency Management, called Kauaians “the kindest, warmest, most optimistic people I’ve seen.”

Maybe it’s because Kauai, population 51,000, is really one big small town. As police Sgt. Miles Tanabe put it: “You have so many people here that are related to so many other people, we’re one big family. It’s hard not to want to help each other.”

Maybe it’s because island people tend to look inward to resolve problems, rather than externally--Kauai residents perhaps even more so, given their island’s isolation. Separated from Oahu by 80 miles, Kauai remained independent longer than any other major Hawaiian island. Over the years, its people have learned to pull together.

Only one emergency shelter is still operating, because most people would rather stay with friends and neighbors. With as many as 20,000 residents displaced by Iniki, just 50 are staying at the shelter and another 300 are in tents in parks, according to Chad Taniguchi, county housing administrator. About 1,000 families are living in hotels or vacation condominiums, he estimated.

At the southern town of Makaweli, where wooden cottages are so close together that neighbors inevitably know each other, the hurricane has cemented connections among families.

“I kind of like it this way,” mused farmer Martin Vidinha, staying at his parents’ home while repairs are under way. “It’s like stepping back in time to Old Hawaii, having communal dinners with neighbors and friends, lively conversations. . . . When the electricity came back on, I was kind of bummed. I thought, ‘No more communal dinners.’ ”

Nonstop repair efforts have restored power to 70% of the homes still standing. Telephone service is at nearly 90%. But normal life won’t return until permanent roofs take the place of tarps, and puddles no longer form in living rooms every time it rains.

At Vidinha’s home, his mother spends the night on the couch while his father sleeps on the floor. The family doesn’t want to replace ruined furniture until their roof gets fixed, and the wait for roofers and supplies is long.

“I’ve been reading by candlelight and flashlight,” said Nora Vidinha. “I’m imagining I’m like my grandmas were, washing clothes by hand. I figure if they could do it, so can I.”

Like hotel workers all over the island, she was laid off after the storm. Many are taking unemployment compensation while they work on their homes. Others are doing clean-up detail at the resorts. Some have taken temporary jobs in construction.

Insurance money and disaster-aid dollars are keeping Kauai afloat for the moment. But with three-quarters of the working population dependent on tourism for their livelihood, tempting back visitors is a priority. While some hotels ravaged by the storm expect to be closed for up to a year, others are scrambling to reopen their doors to tourists as early as next month.

“The tourist is the gasoline that drives the economic engine, and we want to get that engine started as quickly as possible,” said Rick Riess, general manager of the Hyatt Regency Kauai, which hopes to reopen Dec. 15.

Until the hotels come back on line, spin-off businesses of all kinds are floundering. At Poipu Shopping Village on Kauai’s resort-studded south shore, only the general store is open, and its manager says that is merely as a public service. The store is not making any money.

Without vacation-happy buyers, art galleries have closed. Some shops, like Overboard Swimwear, simply packed up their inventory and moved to another island, following the trail of tourists rerouted from Kauai.

The storm did create a few bright spots on the retailing front. Kauai Video in downtown Lihue is doing its best business ever, thanks to residents desperate for diversion. A small note tacked near the entrance to the store illustrates how people here take post-Iniki life in stride. “Be careful,” it advises, “glass on floor and nails. Don’t walk in barefoot.”

But most businesses are dying for lack of tourists. The sooner the visitors return, the better, says Safari Helicopter Tours owner Preston Myers. “This is a good time to go to Kauai,” he insists. “Waimea Canyon is still beautiful. The waterfalls are still there. The beaches are not crowded. The island’s greening up quickly.”

In front of Frances Mizutani’s demolished home, even the rose bush is blooming again.