Some of the hardest climate adaptation decisions involve the places communities love most. That tension is becoming increasingly unavoidable across Maui, which experiences the highest rates and greatest extent of beach erosion in Hawaiʻi, with approximately 85% of shorelines undergoing long-term erosion and beaches eroding faster than those on Oʻahu and Kauaʻi, due in part to locally higher rates of sea level rise.
That tension is especially felt at the Pāʻia Mantokuji Soto Zen Mission on Maui’s north shore.
Founded in the early 1900’s, Mantokuji has served for generations as a cultural and spiritual gathering place for the Maui community — woven into family histories, childhood memories, O-Bon gatherings, and the lived experience of growing up in Pāʻia. However, the Mission’s location directly along the shoreline has also left it exposed to the inherent risks associated with building along an active and dynamic coastline.
The property includes a historic shoreline cemetery associated with the Mission where waves have already damaged gravesites.
The shoreline itself has undergone dramatic change over the last century. There was extensive sand mining in bay cited as far back as WWII era for decades and it has reached a point where the beach does not naturally replenish. Currently, it is a clay bank, they were comfortable issuing original permit with conditions that applicant worked for a long term solution.
The instinct to save places like Mantokuji is deeply human. Places like this hold memory, ancestry, and identity. But emotional significance does not eliminate shoreline realities. In fact, the hardest adaptation decisions are often the ones involving places communities care about the most.
The question is not so much whether the erosion threat to the temple and associated structures is real — that is well recognized. Rather, the question is what response is realistic given the immediate threat and who should ultimately be shaping the management of this shoreline.
Currently, much of the future direction of this shoreline is being shaped by Oceanit, an engineering firm based on Oʻahu. Mantokuji Mission hired the firm to help them identify potential solutions and subsequently, they applied for an Emergency Conservation District Use Permit which was issued by the State of Hawaiʻi in 2021 (ECDUP-MA 21-10) approving 112 linear feet of Elco Rock geotextile bags (pictured below) to be placed on the shoreline in front of the temple. The permit was intended as a temporary emergency authorization to buy time for realistic long-term adaptation planning. The original permit had specific conditions for relocation and direct adaptation of the threatened structure as the intended long-term pathway.
However, rather than progressing toward realistic adaptation planning, the emergency permitting process increasingly became a runway for speculative regional shoreline engineering concepts that remain far from implementation.
With Oceanit serving as the primary engineering consultant, rather than meeting the conditions of the original permit, the Mission pursued increasingly far off concepts including beach nourishment (offshore sand replenishment) and an offshore hybrid reef breakwater while relocation planning was largely sidelined.
There are serious and unresolved concerns regarding Oceanit’s role in this process. The firm’s conceptual recommendations have not undergone meaningful vetting through Maui County departments, independent scientific and engineering review, or broader public stakeholder engagement. Simultaneously, Oceanit supported legislative efforts to bypass certain regulatory requirements, efforts which were ultimately rejected by the State Legislature. Oceanit and the mission have also received notices of warning regarding placement of unpermitted gravel within shoreline regulatory areas, further undermining stewardship and credibility arguments.
Most concerning, these increasingly regional shoreline intervention concepts affecting broader coastal conditions throughout the bay have been developed in a silo. No single engineering consultant should effectively shape the future management of an entire bay through prolonged emergency permitting pathways absent robust public scrutiny, independent scientific review, third-party expert analysis, and meaningful community engagement.
On May 8, 2026, the Board of Land and Natural Resources (BLNR) held a historic hearing on the applicant’s request to extend the emergency permit for an additional three years. Importantly, this marked the first known instance of an Emergency Conservation District Use Permit renewal being brought before the Board itself rather than handled administratively.
This hearing was precedent-setting because it marked an important shift in the Emergency Conservation District Use Permit renewal process. The emergency permitting framework has increasingly been abused by applicants across Hawaiʻi through repeated extensions and incremental shoreline hardening measures that drift far beyond the original intent of temporary emergency authorization.
That pattern is especially visible on Maui, where large stretches of West Maui shoreline remain covered in aging geotextile “burritos” and erosion skirts that are years past their original expiration dates — many of which were approved administratively without meaningful public oversight and still litter Maui’s beaches today.
The hearing became a rare public accountability moment in which the emergency permitting process was subjected to broader scrutiny, both for applicants seeking to prolong emergency authorizations and for agencies responsible for overseeing and enforcing them. Office of Conservation and Coastal Lands Administrator Michael Cain emphasized that emergency permits are an extraordinary tool intended for immediate threats to public health, safety, and welfare and are exempt from environmental review and normal public process requirements. He acknowledged there is currently “no clear mechanism” governing repeated extensions of emergency permits and warned that the Board’s decision could set important precedent for future shoreline emergency authorizations statewide.
In the staff submittal, OCCL raised concerns regarding the lack of meaningful progress toward an implementable long-term solution since the initial permit was granted in 2021. Board members repeatedly questioned the practicality and timeline of Oceanit’s proposed offshore nourishment and hybrid breakwater concepts, noting that the strategies would still require years of permitting, environmental review, baseline studies, and even identification of viable sand sources before implementation could begin.
Board member Riley Smith openly questioned the logic of attempting to alter natural shoreline processes rather than “work with nature and move what we need to move.” When Board member Karen Ono asked whether a concrete implementation plan existed for the proposed strategies, Oceanit consultant Ken Cheung acknowledged that “they don’t have a plan.”
Surfrider Foundation, along with local environmental activists, testified that emergency permits should not become long-term pathways for speculative shoreline engineering concepts absent meaningful public process, environmental review, independent scientific scrutiny, and realistic long-term adaptation planning. We urged the Board to require any future long-term shoreline protection proposals to proceed through a full Conservation District Use Permit process with environmental review and opportunity for public comment.
BLNR ultimately denied the requested three-year extension and instead authorized only a one-year extension while directing the applicant toward the formal Conservation District Use Permit process for any future long-term shoreline protection proposals. In doing so, the State began reestablishing guardrails around an emergency permitting framework that had drifted far beyond its original purpose.
Watch Board Meeting Here (6:07)
Unfortunately, that institutional restraint was partially undermined during a recent Maui County Council budget hearing. The proposed budget included a line-item appropriation of $2.5 million in public funding for the Mission despite unresolved feasibility, permitting, engineering, and environmental review questions.
During the hearing, several council members raised serious concerns regarding the lack of project readiness after more than five years of emergency permitting extensions.
Councilmember Tamara Paltin repeatedly pressed Oceanit representatives regarding their white paper, and exactly how the funds would be spent and what realistic implementation pathway existed for the proposal. Responses remained vague, along with unspecified hopes for future federal and state grants.
Importantly, Councilmember Paltin also questioned the practicality of beach nourishment as a long-term strategy, noting that even County planning documents acknowledge nourishment is not a permanent solution — particularly on Maui’s high-energy north shore where major swell events can rapidly remove placed sand. As she put it during the hearing, the County could spend “$2.5 million locating sand and bringing it back and the next big swell could take it out.”
Councilmember Rawlins-Fernandez similarly warned against “piecemealing” shoreline policy and questioned appropriating “$2.5 million as an arbitrary amount without knowing the total amount” or overall project budget. She emphasized that “when projects are not fully baked,” the County has a responsibility to ensure public funds are being spent responsibly and stated she would have expected “more detail to support the project and remedy situation.”
When questioned about the broader implementation pathway and overall project cost, Oceanit representatives acknowledged the project remained a “moving target,” stating they had only recently received a small state grant to begin more detailed modeling and feasibility work. Notably, during the BLNR hearing a week prior, when questioned specifically about relocation funding, Oceanit consultant Ken Cheung referenced potential future support through Maui County’s Managed Retreat Fund, FEMA, and green fee funding sources — despite relocation receiving comparatively little realistic discussion during the County Council hearing itself.
Councilmember Gabe Johnson similarly acknowledged that implementation of Oceanit’s broader concepts would likely require extensive future permitting, including SMA Major permits and substantial regulatory review.
Councilmember Nohelani Uʻu-Hodgins clarified that the immediate intent of the appropriation was not implementation of a shoreline solution itself, but rather additional studies and conceptual planning associated with Oceanit’s engineering proposals. Yet even this raised a larger question repeatedly voiced throughout the hearing: after more than five years of emergency permitting extensions, why does the project still remain largely in a conceptual and exploratory phase?
In response to these concerns, Councilmember Paltin proposed removing the unrestricted appropriation from the budget and instead requiring the applicant to return through a more formal grant process once a clearer implementation plan had been developed. Councilmember Rawlins-Fernandez supported this approach, emphasizing the County’s responsibility to ensure public funds are allocated responsibly and not toward projects that remain insufficiently developed or lack clear overall cost projections.
Despite these concerns, emotional appeals surrounding the cultural significance of the Mission and the notion of “righting the wrongs of the past” ultimately shifted the discussion toward approving the allocation.
Several council members referenced personal childhood memories associated with the Mission, the historic temple bell, and broader cultural connections to Pāʻia town. Council Chair Alice Lee argued that the County “has to take responsibility” for shoreline degradation associated with historic sand mining and stated, “This is not a hotel or short-term rental, this is part of our past.” Councilmember Uʻu-Hodgins similarly spoke at length about childhood memories of hearing the temple bell ring through Pāʻia town, describing the structure as part of “everyone’s childhood” in the community.
These arguments are emotionally compelling. But they also reveal a much larger and more dangerous policy problem.
Councilmember Paltin articulated this tension directly during the hearing, stating: “I understand emotionally, culturally, spiritually, Pāʻia Mantokuji Mission has a place in all of our hearts. But as legislators, we’re not allowed to treat them differently than the nine condo complexes in Kahana, than Honokōwai, than Kahana Sunset. We need to treat people equally. Can’t say oh we really love Pāʻia Mantokuji Mission, and then not hold them to the same standards as what Kahana Sunset wants to do to save their property which has a very similar situation with the erosion.”
She continued:
“If we are the policy makers we need to be consistent and this is not consistent with the County’s actions they’ve been taking in West Maui, it’s not consistent with what BLNR has been doing across the state and it’s just not good policy.”
This dynamic reflects a broader concern of arbitrary and emotionally driven shoreline policymaking in which certain shoreline applicants can be treated as exceptional due to historical significance, political pressure, or personal community connection despite unresolved feasibility, permitting, environmental review, and engineering questions.
In practice, this creates a system where favored shoreline applicants can receive extraordinary flexibility, public funding support, and regulatory accommodation outside the consistent standards that should govern Hawaiʻi’s shoreline adaptation framework.
Watch the Maui County Council Hearing (3:34)
Hawaiʻi already operates under a highly piecemeal shoreline management framework shaped by decades of historic shoreline mistakes — including sand mining, destruction of dune systems, shoreline armoring, wetland filling, and decades of development built far too close to actively eroding shorelines.
Public officials cannot arbitrarily decide which historic harms justify extraordinary public intervention, funding flexibility, or regulatory exceptions based primarily on emotional connection, political pressure, or cultural familiarity. Once government begins selectively creating emotionally-driven shoreline exceptions, it opens a dangerous Pandora’s box in which policy becomes increasingly inconsistent, subjective, and politically driven.
Ironically, “righting the wrongs of the past” could just as easily support the opposite conclusion: many of Hawaiʻi’s shoreline problems stem not only from sand mining, but from decades of allowing structures and infrastructure to be built too close to dynamic and migrating shorelines in the first place.
In fact, a Maui shoreline study found that beach width loss was substantially greater along more heavily developed Maui shorelines, despite lower erosion rates, suggesting coastal development, and attempts to hold the shoreline in place may worsen long-term beach degradation.
That distinction matters. Climate adaptation policy cannot be built around selectively correcting one historic shoreline “wrong” while ignoring the broader land use and coastal management decisions that created vulnerability across Hawaiʻi’s shorelines.
The shoreline is a natural dynamic, living system. The ocean is rising and we need to make room for our shorelines to naturally retreat and recover rather than defending structures in place and pursuing regional artificial solutions. Simply put, we cannot and should not solve one artificially induced “wrong” with another.
The decisions we make today will determine if our grandchildren will inherit a coastline that is artificially engineered, or a healthy natural coastline.
There is much wisdom in the ʻŌlelo Noʻeau Hawaiʻi:
“Lālau aku ʻoe i ka ʻulu i ka wekiu, i ke ola no ka ʻulu a hala.”
You reach for the breadfruit away at the top and miss the one in front of you.
This ʻōlelo noʻeau reminds us to set our sights on realistic and attainable goals rather than chasing speculative outcomes that remain uncertain and unproven. Mantokuji’s erosion problem is a perfect example. Rather than confronting the reality of ongoing shoreline retreat and pursuing a realistic long-term adaptation strategy centered on relocation and dune restoration, the Mission is being encouraged toward speculative shoreline engineering concepts based on uncertain permitting pathways and assumptions that tens of millions of dollars can eventually be secured.
Managed retreat is uncomfortable. It disrupts core childhood memories, cultural attachment to place, and deeply personal relationships with shoreline landscapes. But the ocean is rising, and Hawaiʻi must begin making room for it. Within the limited toolkit of realistic and implementable long-term adaptation options, managed retreat and direct adaptation measures must be critically examined in good faith rather than continuously deferred in favor of increasingly speculative shoreline engineering proposals.
The problem is not a failure to recognize Mantokuji’s importance. The problem is allowing emotional attachment to shoreline places to override consistent public trust governance, realistic climate adaptation planning, and transparent process. Climate adaptation requires consistent standards and difficult decisions, not case-by-case emotional exceptionalism.
We cannot allow single engineering firms and individual shoreline parcels to effectively dictate the future management of public trust shorelines through speculative concepts supported by public funding and prolonged emergency permitting pathways. Regional shoreline decisions require broader public process, independent scientific expertise, and transparent evaluation of long-term environmental, cultural, and public trust implications.
The Council’s actions extended beyond the appropriation itself. Weeks earlier, concerns had already been raised regarding the proposal to utilize portions of Maui County’s Managed Retreat Revolving Fund for the Mantokuji allocation. The funding was ultimately redirected into the SMA funding structure instead.
While procedural, this shift illustrates how emotionally compelling shoreline cases can begin bending the guardrails of coastal policy itself — particularly when public coastal resilience funding mechanisms remain loosely defined and vulnerable to political pressure.
Public trust resources — including our beaches, dunes, nearshore ecosystems, and natural coastal processes — do not have a voice of their own and have already suffered through centuries of poor shoreline decisions. Hawaiʻi’s shorelines are in critical condition, and the precedent set at one site inevitably ripples outward into how shoreline adaptation decisions are approached elsewhere. [is it worth mentioning that the Public Trust Doctrine is in Hawaiʻiʻs constitution?]
Public coastal resilience funding mechanisms, including Maui County’s Managed Retreat Fund and SMA Fund, need clearer definitions, guardrails, and implementation standards to ensure they function as meaningful tools for shoreline resilience and public resource protection rather than flexible vehicles for shoreline exceptions.
At the same time, decision makers must hold firm as corporate interests, private shoreline protection efforts, and development pressures continue pushing to weaken, dismantle, or subvert Hawaiʻi’s shoreline protections. Decision makers have a responsibility to serve as the voice for beaches, dunes, coastal ecosystems, and natural shoreline processes — particularly because those public trust resources cannot advocate for themselves.
The importance raised here is whether Hawaiʻi will confront shoreline adaptation honestly through science, public process, and realistic planning, or continue searching for politically and emotionally convenient exceptions to the realities of a changing shoreline.