Here’s the problem. Once upon a time I could get off after work, launch my little boat, go scoop up a nice batch of fresh oysters, make a few throws of my net and grab some fine shrimp, or mullet, pull my crab traps, and score some great blue crabs. Can’t do that, anymore. The water is full of jetskis, flabby New York refugees, and plastic bags. The beaches are backed up with concrete condos, no more rolling dunes. The beaches are locked down at dark, no more all night fishing, with family and friends and a campfire.
It is all about lifestyle, and values, vs money. I know we need money, but it isn’t everything.
The only lifestyle now visible isn’t much different than, at best, Coney Island, and, at worst, Fire Island, and heading downhill, fast.
If they had wanted the island to remain as it was, they should have bought the land up and sat on it.
Count yourself lucky that you have the memory. I don't and obviously never will.
If Hawaii was not filled with tourists, it would be just like thousands of other deserted and poor islands across the South Pacific. Your options are an island home with a job and tourists, or an island home without a job and no tourists. Pick one.
Good points,
And if you cared you would take those points to a regional development authority to force shoreline setbacks on new developments, ‘setbacks’ meaning a certain minimum distance from shore.
There’s no excuse these days for architects and community activists not to work together to maintain or enhance the natural beauty of a place while allowing for development.
And just so you know, conservatives have always been better stewards of the land than liberal groups such as the Sierra Club. This group doesn’t like people period. Whereas conservatives seek to blend people into the natural environment and to set aside parks and recreation areas that preserve the natural beauty of a place.
Sounds like you’re in Florida. As a kid my family used to crab and fish in the Keys. We stayed with relatives every Summer there and we drove a car on a two lane highway down from the DC Metro area. Old folks would wave to us as they sat on their porches and rocked on their chairs. Not too many cars on the road at that time.
Nostalgia can be addictive.