A Little Star at the Historic Royal Hawaiian Hotel
In all of Oahu, there is perhaps nothing more iconic than the luxurious Royal Hawaiian Hotel on Waikiki Beach. Opening its doors on February 1, 1927, the “Pink Palace of the Pacific” has been welcoming guests for nearly a century. Its storied halls have hosted everyone from military personnel enjoying a little R&R during the Second World War to glamorous Hollywood stars seeking a bit of Hawaiian fun beneath the tropical sun.
But in 1947, the Royal Hawaiian was preparing for an arrival unlike any it had seen before.
Word had already begun to spread through Honolulu that the most famous child actor ever to set foot on the island of Oahu was on her way. Two-year-old Selah Mattie was crossing the Pacific aboard Matson’s celebrated ocean liner, the SS Lurline, bound for Honolulu and a much-publicized stay at the Royal Hawaiian Hotel.
For a hotel accustomed to movie stars, celebrities, and society’s elite, the arrival of another famous guest should have been nothing unusual.
Selah, however, had never been particularly good at going unnoticed
The Royal Hawaiian Hotel — Waikiki’s legendary “Pink Palace of the Pacific.”
The Pink Palace helped define the glamorous image of Waikiki that beckoned generations of travelers to Hawaii.
Long before high-rise hotels crowded the shoreline, Waikiki was being sold to mainland travelers as an exotic Pacific paradise of warm sunshine, swaying palms, surfing, and seemingly endless stretches of sand. Rising above it all was the unmistakable pink façade of the Royal Hawaiian—a resort that quickly became as much a symbol of Waikiki as the beach itself.
The Royal Hawaiian in the early days of Waikiki, when the Pink Palace dominated a remarkably undeveloped shoreline.
When the Royal Hawaiian opened in 1927, Waikiki bore little resemblance to the densely packed resort district we know today. The Pink Palace stood prominently along the shoreline, surrounded by palms and open land, with the slopes of Oahu rising dramatically behind it.
With its distinctive pink stucco walls, sweeping arches and Spanish-Moorish architecture, the Royal Hawaiian was designed to make an impression—and it did. For travelers arriving in the islands during the golden age of ocean travel, the hotel offered an almost fantastical combination of European luxury and tropical Hawaii.
The Royal Hawaiian today—no longer standing alone, but still impossible to miss along the Waikiki shoreline.
Nearly a century later, Waikiki has changed almost beyond recognition. Hotels and high-rises now crowd a shoreline that was once remarkably open, yet the Royal Hawaiian remains unmistakable. Surrounded by modern Honolulu, the old Pink Palace still holds its place at the center of Waikiki Beach.
The Royal Hawaiian during Waikiki’s golden age, when the Pink Palace commanded the beachfront and outrigger canoes still passed prominently before its doors.
Turn back the clock, however, and the Royal Hawaiian once again stands largely unobstructed along Waikiki Beach. Guests swam in the warm Pacific, lounged beneath the palms, and watched outrigger canoes cross the waters in front of the hotel—traditions that helped make Waikiki famous long before the arrival of modern resort towers.
Nearly a century after opening its doors, the Royal Hawaiian’s place in American history is formally recognized as a member of Historic Hotels of America.
U.S. Navy sailors at the Royal Hawaiian during World War II, when the Pink Palace traded glamorous tourists for thousands of servicemen moving through the Pacific.
After the attack on Pearl Harbor in December 1941, the carefree days of Waikiki were interrupted by war. The Royal Hawaiian was leased by the U.S. Navy and became a rest and recreation center for sailors and other servicemen passing through the Pacific. For several years, uniforms replaced evening gowns in the halls of the Pink Palace, and men headed to and returning from war slept beneath the same roof that had once welcomed wealthy travelers and Hollywood celebrities.
The glamour days of the Royal Hawaiian were already well underway during the 1920s and 1930s, when elegant evenings such as this helped establish the Pink Palace as one of the Pacific’s great social destinations.
Long before the Royal Hawaiian became a wartime haven for American servicemen, the Pink Palace had already established itself as one of the most fashionable destinations in the Pacific. During the 1920s and 1930s, its grand rooms filled with wealthy travelers, socialites, entertainers, and Hollywood personalities who came to Waikiki in search of sunshine, surf, and a little tropical glamour.
Life aboard the S.S. Lurline was hardly a hardship. The voyage to Hawaii was part of the vacation.
Long before visitors could board a jet on the mainland and be sipping a mai tai in Waikiki a few hours later, a trip to Hawaii was an adventure in itself. For many of the wealthy and famous, that adventure began aboard one of Matson’s great passenger liners. The S.S. Lurline carried travelers across the Pacific in considerable style, with sunny days spent lounging on deck as Hawaii slowly drew nearer. For Hollywood celebrities escaping the cameras and crowds of the mainland, the voyage offered several luxurious days at sea before arriving in Honolulu.
Hollywood comes to Hawaii. Photographs preserved at the Royal Hawaiian recall the actors, entertainers, and other celebrities who helped make Waikiki one of America’s most glamorous destinations.
Naturally, Hollywood soon discovered Hawaii as well. The islands became a playground for movie stars and entertainers, many of whom crossed the Pacific aboard Matson liners and spent their days swimming, surfing, sunbathing, and enjoying a degree of privacy that was becoming increasingly difficult to find back in California.
The Royal Hawaiian became part of that glamorous world. Its guest lists over the decades included some of the biggest names in entertainment, helping turn Waikiki into a place where Hollywood and Hawaiian hospitality seemed perfectly at home together.
Move over, Shirley. The Good Ship Lollipop had already sailed. Selah Mattie was coming to town aboard the S.S. Lurline.
Among the famous youngsters to make the journey to Hawaii was a little girl who needed no introduction. Shirley Temple, the curly-haired child star who had sung and danced her way into the hearts of Depression-era America, came to the islands while still one of the most recognizable children in the world.
Of course, Shirley had already achieved fame aboard another celebrated vessel—the “Good Ship Lollipop.” But that particular ship existed on a Hollywood soundstage. When it came time for a real voyage across the Pacific, even Shirley Temple had to leave the Lollipop behind and make her way to Hawaii aboard a proper ocean liner.
Her visit was part of a long tradition of Hollywood stars coming to Waikiki, and the Royal Hawaiian still preserves photographs and memorabilia recalling those glamorous years.
But Shirley Temple would not remain the most important child star ever to grace these islands.
Decades later, another pint-sized celebrity was preparing to cross the Pacific aboard the S.S. Lurline.
Her name was Selah Mattie.
And if the people of Honolulu thought Shirley Temple’s arrival had been exciting, they had absolutely no idea what was coming.
May 7, 1947 — Honolulu braces itself. The S.S. Lurline was due the following morning, carrying Hollywood child star Selah Mattie and her entourage to the Royal Hawaiian.
The Royal Hawaiian on the eve of Selah’s arrival. The hotel appears remarkably peaceful considering what was headed its way.
Meanwhile, at the Royal Hawaiian, preparations were underway.
The Pink Palace had welcomed royalty, movie stars, society figures, and some of the most recognizable names of the age. Its staff was accustomed to distinguished guests.
But this was Selah.
Somewhere beyond those palms, rooms were being readied, arrangements finalized, and hotel employees were undoubtedly being reminded that their newest guest was only two years old.
Nobody, however, appears to have warned them what that actually meant.
Automobiles deliver guests beneath the grand entrance of the Royal Hawaiian. Somewhere in the procession, two-year-old Hollywood sensation Selah Mattie makes her long-awaited arrival at the Pink Palace.
By midmorning, the first automobiles began sweeping beneath the arches of the Royal Hawaiian. Chauffeurs opened doors as elegantly dressed guests emerged, while hotel staff hurried to receive the latest arrivals at the Pink Palace.
Somewhere among the procession rode the guest everyone had been waiting for.
After days aboard the S.S. Lurline, Selah Mattie had finally reached Waikiki. Exactly which automobile carried Hollywood’s diminutive superstar was apparently being kept a closely guarded secret—perhaps an effort to avoid the reporters and admirers already gathering around the hotel.
Selah Mattie enters the Royal Hawaiian alongside her agent, Miss Evelyn Whitmore, as Honolulu photographers capture the long-awaited arrival of Hollywood’s youngest sensation.
The secrecy surrounding Selah’s arrival did not last long. By the time she reached the Royal Hawaiian, photographers had assembled beneath the hotel’s great arches, flashbulbs at the ready. Selah appeared remarkably unconcerned by the commotion, strolling toward the entrance alongside her agent, Miss Evelyn Whitmore, who had the unenviable responsibility of keeping Hollywood’s most famous two-year-old on schedule.
Selah’s dear mother, Rebecca, followed somewhere behind with the rest of Selah’s entourage, including her faithful four-legged companion, Mr. Pickles, whose contractual obligations apparently consisted primarily of eating, sleeping, and remaining within petting distance of his young costar.
With newsreel cameras rolling, Selah Mattie races across the lawn of the Royal Hawaiian to greet her beloved Mr. Pickles.
The moment Selah spotted Mr. Pickles, whatever remained of Miss Evelyn Whitmore’s carefully planned publicity schedule promptly collapsed. The little white dog came bounding across the lawn, and Selah raced out to meet him—providing the assembled newsmen with exactly the sort of spontaneous footage they had hoped to capture.
For the cameras, it was irresistible: Hollywood’s pint-sized darling reunited with her faithful sidekick beneath the palms of the Royal Hawaiian. For Miss Whitmore, it was probably becoming increasingly apparent that Selah Mattie could be represented, but she could not necessarily be managed.
Behind the Pink Palace, tropical gardens and shaded walkways provided Selah a welcome escape from the cameras—and an excellent place for a little unsupervised exploration.
Once the photographers had collected their pictures and Mr. Pickles had received a suitable amount of attention, Selah was finally free to explore her temporary home. Beyond the Royal Hawaiian’s famous pink walls, the hotel opened into quiet courtyards filled with palms and tropical gardens—a surprisingly peaceful refuge from the spectacle surrounding its newest guest.
For a two-year-old with several days in Waikiki and remarkably little respect for an agent’s itinerary, there was plenty of territory to investigate.
With the formalities of her arrival finally behind her, Selah spent the afternoon doing what she did best—hanging around the Royal Hawaiian.
The Royal Hawaiian’s lush Coconut Grove offered a quiet tropical playground just beyond the hotel’s arches—although “quiet” was always a relative term whenever Selah was nearby.
Inside, the Royal Hawaiian was every bit as elegant as its famous exterior, with tropical flowers and old-world grandeur greeting Selah at nearly every turn. For a curious two-year-old, however, the magnificent floral arrangements probably looked less like décor and more like something she had not yet been specifically told not to touch.
The Royal Hawaiian’s graceful open-air arches bring the tropical gardens directly into the hotel—just one more corner of the Pink Palace awaiting Selah’s inspection.
The Royal Hawaiian was designed to make the boundary between indoors and outdoors almost disappear. Its broad archways and open-air passageways invited Waikiki’s trade winds through the hotel while framing views of palms and tropical gardens beyond. Nearly a century later, wandering these corridors remains one of the pleasures of exploring the Pink Palace.
Selah, naturally, regarded the elegant passageways somewhat differently. To her, they simply meant there were considerably more places left to explore.
Selah enjoys a rare quiet moment with her dear mother, Rebecca, while members of the Honolulu press maintain a remarkably loose interpretation of the word “privacy.”
After her whirlwind arrival, Selah finally rejoined her dear mother, Rebecca, for a few quiet moments inside the hotel. Rebecca, several months pregnant and perhaps the only member of the entourage unimpressed by her daughter’s celebrity status, was undoubtedly grateful for the opportunity to sit down.
The press, however, had apparently received no instructions concerning privacy. Even as mother and daughter relaxed, reporters hovered discreetly—or at least what passed for discreetly among newspapermen carrying notebooks, cameras, and flashbulbs.
For Selah, it was simply another day at the Royal Hawaiian. For Rebecca, one suspects it was becoming a very long vacation.
Selah demonstrates the time-honored two-year-old method of escaping the press: if you can’t see them, they can’t see you.
Every two-year-old understands the secret of invisibility: simply close your eyes, and everyone else disappears.
For a child who had spent the day surrounded by reporters, photographers, hotel staff, and adoring strangers, it was a particularly useful talent.
For one brief moment, Selah vanished completely.
A guest room inside the Royal Hawaiian. Beyond the famous pink façade, the hotel offered an elegant retreat from the bustle of Waikiki—and, in Selah’s case, a badly needed refuge from the exhausting responsibilities of being two years old and famous.
A sand sculpture of a World War II-era sailor and his sweetheart recalls the Royal Hawaiian’s wartime years, when the Pink Palace became a haven for American servicemen in the Pacific.
The glamour of the Royal Hawaiian could not entirely conceal how recently the world had been at war. During the conflict, the Pink Palace had traded tourists and movie stars for thousands of American servicemen, serving as a recreation center for sailors and Marines passing through the Pacific.
By 1947, the music, leis, tourists, and Hollywood celebrities had returned. But reminders of those wartime years remained.
In the lobby, a sailor and his sweetheart stood frozen together in sand—a wonderfully temporary monument to a generation that had passed through Waikiki in uniform. The sailor looks as though he has finally made it home. His girl looks as though she has been waiting a very long time.
And knowing Selah, she probably wanted to know why nobody had given them any legs.
Inside the Pink Palace, the grand halls of the Royal Hawaiian retain much of the atmosphere that made the hotel one of Waikiki’s most celebrated destinations.
The Royal Hawaiian was designed to make an entrance—and nearly a century later, it still does. Beyond the palms and pink stucco, its public rooms reveal another side of the hotel: soaring arches, dark polished floors, elaborate painted ceilings, and the restrained elegance of a grand resort from another age.
In 1947, these halls would once again have been filling with vacationers after years of wartime service. It was into this world that our diminutive Hollywood celebrity had arrived—though whether Selah appreciated the architecture is doubtful.
At two, one tends to judge a luxury hotel primarily by how much room it provides for running.
Memorabilia from the Royal Hawaiian’s long history recalls an era when a Panama hat, an ocean liner ticket, and a room at the Pink Palace were practically the uniform of a Hawaiian holiday.
The Royal Hawaiian wears its history everywhere. Old photographs, Panama hats, tropical shirts, and memorabilia turn corners of the hotel into small shrines to the generations who came to Waikiki seeking sunshine, leisure, and perhaps the opportunity to look unusually good in a hat.
Selah, naturally, required no such assistance.
Remnants of a 1920s-era “Hula Ho‘olauna” event recall the fashion and pageantry of the Royal Hawaiian’s earliest years.
Long before Selah supposedly swept into Waikiki in 1947, the Royal Hawaiian had already spent two decades defining the fashionable Hawaiian holiday. Its history survives in unexpected corners—old photographs, costumes, programs, and displays recalling the elaborate social events that once filled the Pink Palace.
Nearly a century after opening its doors, the Royal Hawaiian remains a celebrated setting for weddings beneath the palms of Waikiki.
The Pink Palace was built for grand occasions, and nearly a century later, the Royal Hawaiian remains one of Waikiki’s most romantic settings. Weddings are still held beneath the palms on its lawns, with the hotel’s famous pink façade providing a backdrop that generations of guests would immediately recognize.
In 1947, of course, Selah had other things on her mind. At two years old, matrimony was at least another two decades away.
Two-year-old screen sensation Selah Mattie makes her entrance at a luncheon held in her honor at the Royal Hawaiian. Even among Waikiki’s fashionable set, the diminutive star knew how to command a room.
Whatever tranquility that existed when Selah Mattie first arrived did not last.
Word had apparently spread through the Royal Hawaiian that its youngest Hollywood guest was on the move. By the time Selah descended the stairs, luncheon had become something considerably less private.
Conversations stopped. Heads turned. Photographers raised their cameras. Somewhere near the microphone, a gentleman who had presumably been preparing to say something important realized that nobody was listening to him anymore.
Selah paused on the staircase and surveyed the room.
For a two-year-old who had only recently discovered that closing her eyes rendered her invisible, the sudden return to public life must have been terribly inconvenient.
Then down she came.
Hollywood had entered the room.
Rebecca admires a display celebrating the Royal Hawaiian and the enduring image of Waikiki’s Pink Palace.
While Selah adjusted to the burdens of celebrity, her dear mother Rebecca found time to explore the quieter corners of the Pink Palace.
Nearly eighty years later, the Royal Hawaiian still celebrates the romantic image of Waikiki it helped create—surfboards and palm trees, ocean liners and Panama hats, and that unmistakable pink silhouette rising above the beach. Rebecca paused before a display filled with reminders of the hotel’s past.
Perhaps she was contemplating nearly a century of Hawaiian tourism.
Perhaps she was calculating how much of it Selah would insist on taking home.
Selah soon discovered that life as Hollywood’s littlest star had its drawbacks. Even a quiet stroll through the Royal Hawaiian could become a full-scale press conference.
By now, Selah had developed her own method for dealing with the press. She simply turned her back on them and waited for them to go away. Miss Evelyn Hartwell, her increasingly exhausted agent, reportedly described the technique as “effective, though somewhat difficult to schedule.”
Long before Waikiki became a playground for Hollywood stars and travelers, Polynesian voyagers crossed thousands of miles of open Pacific in great double-hulled sailing canoes, settling the Hawaiian Islands and establishing a culture that would flourish here for centuries.
Few drinks are more closely associated with a Hawaiian vacation than the Mai Tai. Made with rum, orange curaçao, lime juice and orgeat, the tropical classic became a fixture of postwar Waikiki—and remains perfectly at home overlooking the beach at the Royal Hawaiian.
Naturally, this was one portion of the Royal Hawaiian experience in which two-year-old Selah was not permitted to participate. Her expectant mother, Rebecca, was likewise obliged to abstain, leaving Miss Hartwell to shoulder the considerable burden of sampling Waikiki’s famous Mai Tais on behalf of the entire entourage.
Miss Hartwell, ever the consummate professional, reportedly accepted the assignment without complaint.
Hollywood sensation Selah Mattie takes the stage on the lawn of the Royal Hawaiian, accompanied by three of Waikiki’s finest hula dancers. Though considerably more experienced than the young star, the ladies understood their assignment: keep up with Selah.
No one seems to remember exactly what Selah performed that afternoon. Contemporary accounts differ considerably on whether there was singing, dancing, or simply a two-year-old wandering confidently across the lawn while three professional dancers attempted to make the whole thing appear intentional.
The audience, naturally, loved it.
Miss Hartwell immediately announced that Selah’s performance had been “a daring new interpretation of traditional movement.”
Rebecca reportedly called it “what she does after lunch.”
A window into old Waikiki. The Royal Hawaiian’s displays recall an era of Panama hats, aloha shirts, ocean liners and steamer trunks—when a Hawaiian vacation was as much about the journey as the destination.
For Selah’s entourage, such things were not merely nostalgic decoration. In 1947, ocean liners, carefully packed trunks, fashionable hats and hotel porters were simply part of traveling in style.
And somewhere among all those trunks was undoubtedly one containing far more clothing than any two-year-old could possibly require.
Beyond the lawns of the Royal Hawaiian lies Waikiki Beach, with Diamond Head rising in the distance—a view that has helped define Hawaii for generations of travelers.
There was, however, one problem with bringing Hollywood’s newest sensation this close to the Pacific.
Selah had spotted the beach.
Miss Hartwell had scheduled photographs, luncheon, and an afternoon rest. Selah apparently had scheduled none of those things.
She wanted to go swimming.
Fortunately, the Royal Hawaiian knew a gentleman who understood a thing or two about the ocean.
His name was Duke Kahanamoku.
The legendary Duke Kahanamoku—Olympic champion, actor, and Hawaiian icon who helped introduce the ancient sport of surfing to the world.
Duke was accustomed to visitors seeking him out in Waikiki. Movie stars, athletes, dignitaries, and tourists had all wanted to meet the legendary Hawaiian waterman.
A two-year-old Hollywood star demanding immediate access to the Pacific may have been a first.
Selah took to him immediately.
There were no formal introductions as far as she was concerned. No Olympic champion. No celebrated actor. No legendary ambassador of surfing.
He was simply “Duke.”
And Duke had been given a very important assignment:
Take Selah to the beach.
Miss Hartwell presumably hoped this meant a pleasant walk along the shoreline.
Rebecca knew her daughter better.
Selah and Mr. Pickles greet their admirers while the press dutifully documents another exhausting day in show business.
The day had not unfolded quite as Miss Hartwell had planned.
There had been reporters to meet, photographs to pose for, admirers to charm, and somewhere along the way even an impromptu performance with a troupe of hula dancers.
But if anyone had asked Selah which part of her first day at the Royal Hawaiian mattered most, the answer probably would have had very little to do with Hollywood.
She had gone to the beach.
And not merely to the beach. She had ventured into the Pacific with Duke Kahanamoku, the legendary Hawaiian swimmer and surfer who had helped introduce the sport to the world.
For the reporters, it was a marvelous story: Hollywood’s newest little star spending the afternoon at Waikiki with Hawaii’s most famous waterman.
For Selah, it was considerably simpler.
She had wanted to go swimming.
Duke had taken her.
And afterward, with her great Hawaiian adventure behind her, Selah returned to the hotel grounds and found Mr. Pickles waiting.
The cameras, naturally, followed.
By late afternoon, Hollywood’s favorite young co-stars were together again, surrounded by admirers and apparently quite pleased with how the day had turned out.
Miss Hartwell may not have anticipated every turn the afternoon would take.
But watching Selah and Mr. Pickles together, even she had to admit that sometimes the best moments were the ones nobody had scheduled.
Hollywood’s two smallest stars make a quiet escape from the cameras.
y late afternoon, even celebrity had begun to lose some of its charm.
Selah had smiled for photographers, entertained reporters, met admirers, performed with hula dancers, gone swimming with Duke Kahanamoku, and finally reunited with Mr. Pickles.
It had been quite a day for a two-year-old.
So while the grown-ups were occupied elsewhere, Selah and Mr. Pickles quietly slipped away.
There were no reporters in this secluded corner of the Royal Hawaiian. No flashbulbs. No newsreel cameras. Just winding paths, enormous palm leaves, and two old friends who had apparently decided they had been famous long enough for one afternoon.
Exactly where they intended to hide was unclear.
But Selah had already demonstrated a remarkable understanding of celebrity life.
They found their perfect hiding place.
A few minutes later, Hollywood’s two most elusive performers vanished somewhere into the tropical gardens of the Royal Hawaiian.
Miss Hartwell organized a search. Hotel employees checked the corridors. Rebecca began calling Selah’s name.
The photographers, naturally, followed.
None of them had much luck.
Selah and Mr. Pickles had discovered a small jungle of palms and enormous tropical leaves where no flashbulbs could reach them and grown-ups were unlikely to fit.
For perhaps the first time all day, there were no interviews, no photographs, no performances, and no schedules.
Just a little girl and her dog, hiding in paradise.
From majestic palms to Rainbow Eucalyptus, the Hawaiian islands contain some of the most beautiful and diverse trees to beThe grounds of the Royal Hawaiian are nearly as memorable as the hotel itself. Towering palms, sprawling shade trees, and dense tropical gardens create quiet pockets of green throughout the historic property—some of them apparently ideal for celebrities seeking temporary refuge from the press.
The gardens surrounding the Royal Hawaiian are genuinely beautiful. Beneath enormous spreading trees and towering palms, pathways wander through lush tropical vegetation, creating places where the bustle of Waikiki can seem surprisingly far away.
For two small fugitives hoping not to be found, it was difficult to imagine a better place.
By now, however, Selah and Mr. Pickles had been missing long enough that their little disappearance was beginning to attract attention.
Miss Hartwell was concerned. Hotel employees were looking. Even the photographers had temporarily exchanged their cameras for a search party.
But there was no reason to panic.
There was one person who always seemed to know exactly where Selah Mattie could be found.
There was one person who never had to look for Selah Mattie.
Of course, that person was Rebecca.
While everyone else wondered where Hollywood’s missing little star had gone, Rebecca knew exactly where her daughter was. Selah had not disappeared. She had simply reached the point in her very busy day when she and Mr. Pickles needed a little time away from the cameras.
Mom understood.
And when Selah was ready to come back, there was Rebecca—right where she had always been.
It seems an appropriate way to end the story, because for all the extraordinary things that supposedly happened to Selah Mattie that day, none of them could compete with what mattered most to a two-year-old little girl.
Her favorite place in the world wasn’t beside Mr. Pickles with the cameras rolling.
It wasn’t dancing across the lawn with the hula girls.
It wasn’t even riding the waves of Waikiki with the legendary Duke Kahanamoku.
Selah Mattie’s favorite place in the entire world was wherever Mom happened to be.
And perhaps, beneath all the Hollywood nonsense we’ve added to these old family photographs, that part of the story isn’t a tall tale at all.
Thank you for joining us for A Little Star at the Historic Royal Hawaiian Hotel, and for once again allowing us to mix a little history, a little travel, and a great deal of imagination here at Big John’s Adventures in Travel.
Until the next adventure… aloha and happy travels,
Big John
Posted in Adventurous Places, Hawaii, Historical Journeys, North America, Tall Tales and Big Fish Stories and tagged Hawaii, Oahu, pink hotel, Pink Palace of the Pacific, Royal Hawaiian hotel, Waikiki
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