Happiness in Hawaii and How to Find It

At Kona Village on Hawaii’s Big Island, nature’s majesty and the Shipwreck Bar deliver all the ingredients for a psychological reboot

Dawn breaks over Kona Village, the hotel now stewarded by Rosewood on Hawaii’s Big Island. Thatched little houses, hale in Hawaiian, rise on stilts above the lava flow that shelters the secluded beach, where a few jetlagged guests wander the sand. If they were to look out over the ocean, they would just about perceive an outrigger canoe on the horizon. In it, five other guests and I are paddling, in what I imagine is a heroic manner, towards Kahuwai Bay’s ocean sanctuary and reef, enthusiastically helmed by local waterman Pua. Besides myself and a chic older lady in a visor and a T-shirt proclaiming “I love bagels”, the canoe is manned by two sets of happy couples: meanwhile, my husband declined to get up at 5am after I subjected him to week of rainy hiking on the windward side of the island (there is nothing like dusk descending on you in the dense, muddy jungle to remind you of your desire to live another day). Looking back towards the land, the hotel is framed by the mountain Mauna Kea, capped with the first snowfall of the year. Below us is our reward: one of the island’s last undisturbed reefs gleams in the clear water. Out to sea, dolphins punctuate our view of the headland, and beyond it, Maui. As the sun burns the mist from the ocean we begin our paddle back to the breakfast buffet.

The reimagined Kona Village opened in 2023, but memories of its previous incarnations abound, preserving an increasingly lost mystique that, over several trips to the islands, I’d been in search of among the malls. Standing on lands leased from the Kamehameha Schools-Bishop Estate, which since its founding by Princess Bernice Pauahi Pākī Bishop has sought to empower Native Hawaiians in perpetuity, the hotel was constructed in the 1950s on land that had been devastated by a lava flow. After a tsunami damaged the previous property, Rosewood stepped in to reimagine the site, carefully preserving the history both modern and ancient that makes the area so special. The structures are painstakingly constructed around the remaining petroglyphs in the area, with 75 per cent of them visible to guests from the Ala Hele Papa boardwalk which winds through the property. At the shipwreck bar, a schooner that’s sat there since the hotel’s inception serves drinks on the sand. Our outrigger, meanwhile, departs from Kilo Kai, the centre of all water-based activities at the property. And in their restaurant Moana, your breakfast is backdropped by photos of Aunties weaving lei and playing ukulele, and young men surfing the admittedly relaxed waves on this very beach as you eat your poke. 

Away from the beach, a series of pools lead to the Asaya spa, which incorporates Hawaiian healing traditions into its wellness practice. With a view over the jagged lava rocks, from which naked flames sprout in place of a sculpture to focus meditatively upon, the spa has a luxurious yet monastic appearance. Stone and local wood abound, where treatments include the Ho’Olili Cocoon, which uses sea sponges to activate your lymphatic system, and the ‘Au ‘Au Ritual, bathing in water scented with local essential oils with a view of Mauna Kea. Tropical foliage surrounds the black rock of the hot pools, cold plunge and sauna, the backdrop to the Mahina Renewal, a massage that (for me) ended with a banana daiquiri under the stars. If you were at any point inclined to spend time indoors during your stay, the rooms are luxurious in the extreme, crafted from natural wood, with decks overlooking the ocean or mountains, gigantic beds with crisp sheets and elegant bathrooms, with an outdoor shower if you’d like a change from the excellent water pressure in the en-suite.

Kona Village is just one part of Rosewood’s reimagining of their visual identity, fusing elegance (the aforementioned rooms with their effortless integration of land and sea) with curiosity (the opportunity to catch invasive fish from Kona Village’s lagoon). Rosewood has moved from their previous signature navy blue to a palette of Discovery Green, inspired by the lush jungles, mountains and foliage surrounding their properties. When seen in a new monogram, wordmark and trigon pattern, in everything from in-room menus to their websites, the green acts as a calling card of both the brand’s expansive moment and their commitment to local immersion and culture. They’ve also doubled down on their commitment to locality; at Rosewood Miyakojima, in Okinawa, guests can discover the island through conservation programs led by marine ecology experts protecting nesting sea turtles, or learn the art of handmade pottery with local masters. In Amsterdam, Dutch art history is celebrated through the one thousand artworks displayed across the hotel, and curator tours. While at Kona Village, in addition to the watercraft, petroglyphs, fishing and craft, they grow their own food at their Kahiko Mala`ai organic farm.

At the shipwreck bar, memories of the mid-jungle hiking arguments recede, courtesy of a Mai Tai, leaving just memories of being the only two people on a secluded beach on which 30 turtles rested, accompanied by the wonderfully soft honking of the endangered Hawaiian nene goose. Hawaii is buffeted by both the trade winds and those of change, with successive waves of migration replaced by the forces of modernisation. Rosewood is shepherding this sliver of the Big Island, reefs and all, into a new era of both preservation and enjoyment. If you go, be sure to get up at dawn, and under Pua’s capable captaincy, see how the mountains rise in isolation out of the Pacific – both gigantic and dwarfed by the ocean – and experience true awe. Then enjoy the ocean swells pushing you back in, and be awed once more by how quickly your loved one has hastened to the bar for a potent smoked Mai Tai and sushi during your exertion.