It was on the day that a bearded old-timer pulled up to the gate in front of Captain Howie’s Waimanalo, O‘ahu, home in a beat-up pickup truck and said “So where you gonna mount the cannon?” that its owner decided he was on the right track.
Anything but ordinary, Captain Howie approached the design and construction of what some call the “Hobbit House” as unconventionally as possible. The home was completed in April 2004, and the results are the culmination of many ideas, simplistic yet genuine, of which Howie relishes every single day. Passersby who honk their horns are treated to a “Hey bro!” and a wave from the non-denominational minister and commercial charter captain.
As a matter of fact, many design concepts for this outré structure came from complete strangers that he found on his doorstep. “It’s actually how I met most of the people who eventually worked on this house,” admitted Howie. “I can take credit for the landscaping, but the rest was just the cultivation of these talents that I found—most of the time camped out in front of my gate—and encouraging them.”
Howie first arrived in Hawai‘i in 1979, when he pursued religious studies and sailed between the islands. In 1980 he sailed a 56-foot Mayflower-designed vessel from Canada to Hawai‘i, living on both it and in a Krishna temple. In 1999 he found an aging plantation home on this Waimanalo lot, and tore it down. He spent a year landscaping the perfect outdoor environment, complete with trickling koi ponds with a stepping stone walk. There’s also an impressive waterfall in the rear of the lot, fronting the picturesque Ko‘olau mountains.
After completing the grounds, Howie decided to take a stab at designing a shed for his lawnmower. It proved to be an awful experience that included a lazy contractor and various other nightmares. But something good came out of it: Arthur Frank, a local roofer, was brought on to complete the shed. Howie informed him that he wanted an unconventional, staggered roof pattern, to which Art replied: “Man, I can give you a wave pattern.”
The resulting layered cedar shingles that splash across the roofing found their way on to the side of the shed, and eventually onto the main home. The shed was such a success, and so large, Howie decided to make it a combination photography studio, storage site for his boating gear, and a washer/dryer facility with a separate meditation room, finished with Balinese doors.
When the time came to build a second shed, Howie enlisted the help of Billy Pulaski, whom he had met when looking for someone to execute the water feature work on the property. Pulaski sketched out the shed, as well as plans for the main home.
Soon thereafter, two contractors pulled up to the front gate to have a look at a lot that clearly stood out on the block. The less shy of the two insisted they meet the owner; and Howie was introduced to contractor George Kircher. A Kailua resident of 35 years who had built homes up and down the Eastern seaboard as well as all coasts of Hawai‘i, Kircher liked what he saw in the landscaping and shed, and felt a symbiosis with the land. He went home, and two weeks later—without a single conversation with Howie—dropped off a full-scale cedar model of what the home should be.
“Other than a few things here and there, it’s pretty much what stands on the property today,” said Kircher.
“George took Billy’s designs and hopped ‘em up on steroids. His vision was perfect—and I always can find a flaw in something. Not in George,” added Howie.
After nearly a year’s wait for George to complete another project, the two set to work, aided by both Pulaski and Frank. The result is a residence that, while many see it as a Hawaiian version of Bilbo Baggins’ estate, others see as a landlocked pirate ship.
The home is built around a central foyer, within which 25-foot Ohia trees reach to the ceiling. Indoor balconies from the master and guest rooms upstairs face the center of the home, and are railed by local ironwood. A freestanding staircase, rooted to four 12-by-12 posts of varying lengths (which resemble dock posts) spirals up in front of you. To the left, the kitchen is decked in custom monkeypod cabinetry. To the right, the family room and entertainment center, followed by the home office, which opens up to the tranquil backyard.
Howie’s wife Deva had a major hand in the home’s interior decor, with some coaching by Pulaski.
“We used 600 feet of boating rope along the interior walls of the home, where originally we thought we’d use mitered bamboo,” said Deva. “But it took so long. All the rope work in the whole house took 45 minutes, and it really adds a sense of the sea to the home.”
A true renaissance man, Kircher laid down a few ground rules to his workers before construction began. No cell phones. No music. And no nail guns. Everything was to be done by hand, with the sounds of the waterfall, the ocean (a block away), and the wind sweeping down from the Ko’olau’s.
“The roof in the kitchen and two upstairs rooms really shows off George’s ingenuity,” said Howie. Kircher adjusted the original plans to install tent-shaped ceilings that fan out with diagonal pieces of wood. His piece de resistance was the addition of a massive skylight at the top of the vaulted ceiling in the foyer, at the home’s center. It floods the entire home with natural light.
“I was laying in bed one day during the construction, and before we put the bedroom walls up, I thought, ‘Why don’t we just leave the bedroom wall open to the foyer, so I can see the stars and moon through the skylight while laying here?’” said Howie.
The master bath is a prime example of how a loose design schematic, paired with a deep look at priorities, can lead to unique features. Above the sink, an odd-shaped picture window provides sweeping views of the Ko’olau mountains. “I wasn’t going to lose that view just to put a mirror up so I could look at myself when I was brushing my teeth,” said Howie.
Deva found a clawfoot tub at a farm, and had it retextured to match the copper bathroom sink. For various other fixtures and furniture she had great success in working with Worldwide Furnishings in Honolulu, which also found her bamboo reclining chairs in the Philippines.
“There are intentionally no closets in the whole house,” Howie proudly admits. “I hate closets. First off, we don’t have to own enough clothes here in the tropics to have a closet. And second, I love armoires. This way, if I get tired of the way one looks, I can get rid of it and buy a new one. You can’t do that with a closet!”
Quirky as it is, this home is a true study in serenity and cooperative partnerships.
“Not once did I have any anxiety about the house,” said Kircher. “We all became good friends—including the house.”
