“I am the Last Summer of Lāna‘i”: Why Eric Mendes Doesn’t Drive

written by Anthony Kaauamo with photos by Sharmaine Mae Elan

For over three decades, Eric has lived on Lāna‘i without owning a car. In a small community where the majority of residents rely on multiple personal vehicles, his story offers a glimpse into an alternative lifestyle, shaped by practicality, resourcefulness and a sense of place.

“I’ve never had a car on this island,” Eric said. Though he once held a driver’s license and owned a vehicle while living on the mainland, his move to Moloka‘i in the 1980s marked a shift.

Eric grew up in California, where his family’s story bridged two places. “My mom’s from California, and my dad’s family is from the Big Island,” Eric said. His family later moved to Moloka‘i, where Eric joined them in his late 20s. “I came over because I wanted a fresh start,” he said. “I was having trouble on the mainland — not legal trouble, just hanging with the wrong crowd — and I needed to make a change.” Despite the move being difficult at first, Eric eventually settled into life on Moloka‘i, where his family started a farm growing lemons, limes and papayas.

“I can’t get mad if people pass me by. It’s their prerogative.”

His work history mirrors the island’s changing economy. In the late 1980s, Eric began his career in hospitality as a waiter at the Kaluakoi Resort on Moloka‘i. “That was the first time I worked in a hotel,” he said. After a few years, Kaluakoi began preparing to close, signaling the end of an era for Moloka‘i’s tourism industry. Around the same time, Lāna‘i’s newly built hotels were actively recruiting workers, offering opportunities for those willing to relocate. Eric was among a group of employees who made the transition to Lāna‘i in 1991, joining the workforce that would support the island’s growing hospitality sector.

After moving to Lāna‘i, he worked in various roles, including at the Hulopo‘e Court, now known as Mozza. “I started as a breakfast waiter, but I hated it. I said, ‘Can I be a full-time Pool Grille waiter?’ And they let me,” he said. From there, Eric moved into spa reception, a role he held until 2013 before transitioning to his current position as a spa attendant.

“I offer them gas money or to get food for them. If I can do a little extra, I will, because I appreciate the gesture.”

When Eric arrived on Lāna‘i, the hotels operated a shuttle system for their employees, which made transportation simple. “I thought it would be convenient because they had the bussing system, and I could walk to town,” Eric said, mentioning that the shuttle allowed him to forgo the expense of car ownership. “I didn’t want to buy a car. That was one of the big reasons that drew me here.”

The shuttle service lasted for several years, but by the late 1990s, it was discontinued. Eric described the abrupt end. “They told us they were doing away with the bus system, and that was it,” he said. For many workers, especially seasonal employees without vehicles, the change meant finding alternative arrangements. Eric began hitchhiking.

Thumbing rides became a common routine for Eric, who lived at the Log Cabins at the time. “I’d walk down to the corner across Lalakoa,” he said. He would give himself plenty of time to catch a ride, often arriving at his post two hours before his shift. “If I was working at nine, I’d be out on the corner at seven,” Eric said. He added that he didn’t mind the walk, using it as time to think and stay active.

When asked about the challenges of hitchhiking, Eric shrugged them off. “I can’t get mad if people pass me by. It’s their prerogative,” he said. “If it’s someone I know, then yeah, it stings a little, but otherwise, I just figure they might be having a bad day.”

Over time, Eric built a network of coworkers and friends who offered him regular rides. “I’ve been riding with Raschelle Kipi and Tomomi Garrett since about 2018,” he said. He makes an effort to show his gratitude. “I offer them gas money or to get food for them,” he said. “If I can do a little extra, I will, because I appreciate the gesture.” He described how simple acts like grabbing a cup of coffee or a sandwich help maintain the balance. “It’s the least I can do,” he said.

Eric also makes it a point to minimize the inconvenience for those giving him rides. “I don’t ever make anybody come to my house,” he said. Instead, he walks to their homes, which he sees as an opportunity to stay physically active. After work, catching a ride back into town is straightforward. “Usually, it’s with someone from work who’s finishing their shift,” he said. He mentioned that most of his coworkers won’t accept money for the favor. “They won’t take it unless I throw it at them and run away,” Eric said.

“I haven’t had a license since 1995. I think I’ve almost forgotten how to drive. I wouldn’t feel comfortable in traffic anymore, not in Honolulu or California.”

Even without a car, Eric has traveled far beyond the island. “I used to travel at least twice a year, two big vacations,” he said. While most trips were initially to neighboring islands, the past seven years have taken him abroad. Eric has visited Turkey four times, each trip opening doors to new experiences. “I met some Turkish guys when I was working in Wyoming during the hotel renovations,” he said. “They invited me to visit, and I thought, why not?” With his first passport in hand, Eric landed in Istanbul and toured the country from the Black Sea to the Mediterranean. “The beaches there are incredible,” he said, describing the water as “so clear it looks like a pool.”

His travels extended into Serbia and Montenegro, where he stayed in a castle. “Montenegro hasn’t been overrun by tourism yet, so it was affordable,” Eric said. “I found an Airbnb for $80 a night.” Planning ahead is key to his adventures. “I study everything — airports, transportation, currency. I want a smooth transition,” he said. Eric credits ride-shares like Uber and local transportation systems for making international travel easier.

The practical choice of living without a car grew into something deeper as Lāna‘i became central to Eric’s life. “I’ve been here for 33 years,” he said, with Lāna‘i now being the place he has lived the longest. “At first, I didn’t call this home, but now I do. I’ll probably die here. I’ll be at Hale Kūpuna.”

Despite his long tenure on the island, Eric has no plans to renew his driver’s license. “I haven’t had a license since 1995,” he said. “I think I’ve almost forgotten how to drive. I wouldn’t feel comfortable in traffic anymore, not in Honolulu or California.”

When asked if he knew anyone else on Lāna‘i who still thumbs rides, Eric paused and then laughed. “I’m the last summer of Lāna‘i,” he said, referencing his role as one of the few who regularly relied on hitchhiking before securing regular rides.

Reflecting on his experience, he said, “I like the small-town feel. It’s safe here, and people know each other.” Through the years, he has navigated the island’s changes, relying on resourcefulness and the kindness of others. For him, Lāna‘i has become more than just a place to live. “This is home now,” Eric said. “And I like it that way.”