The shoreline of Waikiki looked unfamiliar.
The ocean swept in brown waves instead of blue, carrying debris and runoff from weeks of heavy rain. Surfboards that would normally glide across the water were stacked along the sand untouched. Tourists stood back, staring at waves that looked nothing like the clear water and paradise shown on the Internet. The beach was the quietest it had been in a long time, no longer crowded with surf lessons and visitors.
The Kona low storms that hit Hawaii in early March 2026 revealed a different side of the islands, one shaped by dangerous surfing conditions consisting of strong winds and flooding, forcing many communities to stop their daily lives while the storms took over.
Surf-lesson stands are seen all along Waikiki Beach, and many of them watched business disappear almost overnight.
“The first day, Waikiki was empty,” said Isaiah Acosta, who works with Pacific Island Beach Boys. “As soon as there’s news of a storm, we already kind of know it’s gonna affect business.”
Surf lessons depend on tourists wandering up from the beach to rent a board or take a lesson. When the Kona low storms hit the islands, beaches were nearly empty for a week, while the rain and winds swept across the shoreline.
When the storms arrived, Acosta said the usually clear, blue ocean turned dark and murky. Standing on the shoreline even felt different because the typically calm rhythm of the waves became far stronger and more chaotic.
For the surfing industry generally and for the instructors specifically, their income is tied directly to tourism. Acosta said these workers nearly lost an entire pay period because the beach was mostly empty for two weeks, and even when conditions began to improve, the beach was not ready for tourists to return.
Even when business slowed down, the workers stayed on the beach cleaning debris and preparing for tourists to return and bring back business. Trash covered the shoreline, while wind scattered equipment across the sand. Many of the workers did this without pay because, for them, caring for the beach felt personal. The shoreline was not just where they worked, but part of their community.
“This is our home,” Acosta said.
In Waikiki, recovery happened quickly — it had to. Once the rain passed and the skies cleared, tourists returned to the beach almost immediately. Visitors on short vacations wanted to make up the time they had lost during the storms.
The conditions on O’ahu’s North Shore told a different story. Areas of it still have not recovered. Brown water runoff flowed into the ocean, and some beaches were under water quality advisories for weeks.
At North Shore Surf Shop in Haleiwa, manager Britney Gutewile watched business decline as dangerous conditions kept tourists and locals away from the water. Surf lessons stopped entirely, while ocean safety advisories warned people to stay out of the surf.
Gutewile experienced the storm beyond the surf shop. Flooding forced evacuations across her community in Waialua, where some residents lost everything in their homes.
“Our house was OK, but I had friends around me that lost everything,” Gutewile said. “We had to evacuate all of Waialua.”
Once residents were able to return, many began helping neighbors clean flooded homes and clear debris from roads and yards. The storm changed the feeling of the North Shore from a laidback surf destination into a community focused on recovery.
Even for people who had lived in Hawaii their whole lives, the storm was unusually intense. Gutewile said longtime residents around her described it as one of the worst storms they had experienced.
For Derek Hershey, a surf instructor with Big Wave Dave Surf & Coffee, the Kona low storm exposed the difference between the Hawaii tourists’ expectations and the Hawaii locals’ daily lives.
“People come here expecting perfect waves and sunshine every day,” Hershey said. “But the ocean doesn’t care if you’re on vacation.”
During a previous study-away trip to Hawaii’s Big Island in March 2026, I experienced the first Kona low storm when my group was stranded for several days because of the conditions. Watching as the Big Island transformed from busy streets and beaches into vast emptiness made it easier to understand what locals meant when they described the unpredictability of island life.
The storm also changed the way I viewed Hawaii itself. Before the Kona low, Hawai’i felt separated from reality in the way it is presented on social media. The beaches look perfect. The ocean appears calm. But during the storm, the island felt raw and unfamiliar. Roads were flooded, beaches emptied and conversations shifted away from vacation and toward safety.
For tourists, Kona low storms may simply delay a surf lesson or interrupt a beach day. For surf instructors, local businesses and North Shore communities, the storms affect their lives.
“You don’t really realize how fast everything depends on the weather here until it shuts down,” Acosta said. “The ocean has its own rhythm — you just have to listen to it.”
Renee Lipski is a student in the Travel Journalism in Hawai’i program through the Grady College of Journalism and Mass Communication.
