A home is lifted by a crane at Ka Laʻi Ola, a housing project, in Lahaina, Hawaii. Ka Laʻi Ola will contain 450 units for 1500 wildfire survivors. Photo / Mengshin Lin, for the Washington Post
LAHAINA, Hawaii - The Matson shipping container had travelled 16,000km by the time it arrived on this Maui hillside.
Inch by inch, a towering crane lifted a nearly 9070kg structure of galvanised steel and glass out of the container, the newest home in a town stricken by disaster.
Almost two years after wildfires ripped through Lahaina, this is where global supply chains, disaster relief and a novel solution to America’s housing crisis come together.
On track for full occupancy this summer, the 23ha development is part of Hawaii’s attempt to house some of its most vulnerable residents, using hundreds of prefab homes in a way that has never been tried elsewhere.
It’s also a test of how quickly the government and private companies can work together to prop up housing when there are few options - and whether other places will do the same.
At the Ka Laʻi Ola development, 450 structures will house roughly 1500 people.
The earliest waves of residents moved into their new homes one year after the fires - much faster than they likely could have in the rest of town as the recovery grinds on.
More traditional construction is often hard to ramp up in remote or devastated areas. But here, the faster pace is possible because the development revolves around factory-built housing and a full-steam-ahead approach by local and state officials.
As construction was still under way in February, Forrest Dell watched one of his companies’ homes touch down onto a foundation of concrete pillars. When he started NanoNest in 2020, he never imagined the bulk of his business would be in disaster response.
He thought people would add the relatively cheap structures - one-bedrooms start around US$75,000 ($124,000) - to their backyards as rentals or post them on Airbnb.
Instead, NanoNest, along with other manufacturers including Harbinger Production, Innova Homes, Kauhale Development and Staus, are part of Maui’s novel attempt to keep fire victims close to their families, jobs, schools and former lives.
Maui’s housing needs look different through the phases of recovery.
Lahaina is past the immediate crisis - when debris needed to be cleared, people lived in hotel rooms and the dead were still being counted.
Rebuilding or creating new housing takes much longer and often depends on a tangled web of zoning rules, construction hurdles, insurance claims and high costs.
Residents of Los Angeles are still in the thick of that maze after January’s devastating fires.
Ka Laʻi Ola is designed to break through some of those barriers, in part by building on state-owned land. Elsewhere, disaster zones can sit in a kind of zoning and code purgatory for years.
“Immediately after the fire, the first thing is not housing,” Dell said, sitting in a newly installed home.
“It’s safety, making sure everyone is accounted for, removing debris before you can even build anything. We just try to be prepared when the need arises.”
Part of the reason Dell got his contract with the state is because of his quick turnaround.
A Chinese factory can churn out 500 models in a month. It then takes roughly four more weeks to get them shipped across the Pacific to the California coast. Global factors can get in the way, like the ongoing trade war between Washington and Beijing.
Dell is trying to plan around high tariffs on Chinese goods and absorb any extra costs. But those trade policies could change.
Then there are the unexpected costs to Hawaii. The site didn’t have enough water, requiring the construction of a multimillion-dollar tank system. The homes also sit on hard lava rock and a steep gradient, making it harder to install sewage systems and blast through the ground to lay down lasting infrastructure.
Some housing experts also fear that tiny homes, broadly speaking, could be even more susceptible to future fires or floods.
In other parts of the country, factory-built housing has been hard hit by major disasters, even while it remains a go-to for those trying to rebuild quickly. With routine maintenance, NanoNest’s homes can last 10 years, and 40 for their entire lifespans, Dell said. But that timeline hasn’t been tested yet.
The wildfires that ripped through Maui in August 2023 killed more than 100 people, destroyed more than 2200 structures and displaced 12,000.
The destruction was indiscriminate, swallowing mansions and affordable bungalows alike. Many survivors without anywhere else to go flocked to temporary shelters or hotel rooms, with officials fearing a spike in homelessness once those emergency measures phased out.
Soon afterwards, Joseph Campos, deputy director for Hawaii’s Department of Human Services, pitched a state-sponsored project to house people displaced by the fires.
The project was especially intended to reach residents who wouldn’t qualify for help from Fema - for example, if someone can’t prove that they lived in or owned their damaged residence. The endeavour has turned Campos into kind of housing innovator and community leader, despite his academic training as a political scientist.
All told, the US$185 million ($305m) project puts the price per home at US$411,111, though officials say that figure doesn’t account for studios versus one-, two- or three-bedroom models.
They also said any breakdowns should also reflect US$110m spent on permanent infrastructure to be used and repurposed down the line. The state’s backing also means residents pay no rent through to August and will pay heavily discounted rates after that. They also aren’t bound by leases and can move off the site anytime, like if they find housing elsewhere or rebuild their homes.
The project itself has a lease on the site until 2029, around when officials estimate more of Lahaina will have been rebuilt. But what happens after that is still being decided. Some of the homes could be moved onto peoples’ properties or made available for new tenants.
The current goal is providing stable housing for those who may not otherwise have it. But eventually, residents will be searching in an area where affordability has vanished.
Typical rent in Lahaina was US$3992 in May, up 16.4% from the month of the fires, according to Zillow. Maui County as a whole averaged US$3588, well past the national average of US$2049.
For Iuni Tuaimeiuta, the two-bedroom NanoNest home was the first permanent place her family had been in since the fires. At times, her husband had lived in his cargo van. The disaster destroyed the family’s business educating people on traditional Polynesian art and history.
Ka Laʻi Ola brought much-needed permanence and stability, Tuaimeiuta said, especially for her husband, a master carver, and son, who both have disabilities. Her family has been able to shift focus towards rebuilding its business, with hopes of reopening a shop on Lahaina’s historical Front Street.
“The worries come from not knowing where we’re going to lay our head,” Tuaimeiuta said. “It has given us a second chance to move forward with life. There is nothing that is blocking us now.”
Housing in Lahaina averages around US$4 per square foot. But HomeAid Hawaii, which builds homes and communities for people risking or experiencing homelessness, aims to provide options for half that price, said executive director Kimo Carvalho.
He said deep affordability, especially for interim and emergency housing programmes, is key to helping people rebound financially, even if it takes years. HomeAid partnered with the state on Ka Laʻi Ola and works with residents.
Carvalho said the process revealed how eager companies can be to make money on disasters.
After the fires, HomeAid helped the state sift through the barrage of companies selling modular and prefab homes. More than 80% hadn’t been in business for more than five years, making it hard to see much proof of concept, vet their financial stability or guarantee they could follow through on production and shipping. A few were trying to pitch souped-up tents. Prices changed constantly.
The frenzy, Carvalho said, reflected a kind of “gold rush of housing”, with companies trying to apply new solutions to a historic affordability problem. He said time and investment will help surface options that cater to specific needs - and differentiate what works from what doesn’t.
“If we’re going to have this for five plus years, you have to make sure it lasts,” Carvalho said.
There are still questions about what unfolds from here: Where will residents go when the site closes? Will housing costs in Maui simmer down in the meantime? And elsewhere, will factory-built housing increasingly become part of the playbook for disaster recovery?
Some of the answers depend on the state.
The land and its infrastructure will be transferred to the Department of Hawaiian Home Lands when the programme ends.
“Something hasn’t been done before until its done,” Campos said in June. “Don’t let any preconceived notions limit how you can best serve.”
Other outcomes rest on how this slice of the housing market evolves. On Capitol Hill, lawmakers in both parties are looking to promote manufactured homes as a source of affordable supply.
Senator Catherine Cortez Masto (Democrat-Nevada) has a bill to preserve and revitalise manufactured housing communities. Senator Tim Scott (Republican-South Carolina) has proposed updating certain federal requirements to make manufactured housing cheaper and easier to build.
Then there are ways to make ownership more attainable.
Rachel Siegel, an expert on manufactured housing at Pew Charitable Trusts, said this kind of housing is often owned as personal property - like a car - instead of real estate.
That means mortgages can’t always be used to finance the home, no matter its quality or the financial standing of the buyer.
A survey from Pew Charitable Trusts found that among manufactured home borrowers, 20% turn to riskier arrangements like rent-to-own, or contracts that don’t give buyers titles to their homes until the very last payment is made.
Earle Kukahiko came to Ka Laʻi Ola last year with his wife, daughter and granddaughter, just as insurance payouts that covered their rent elsewhere were drying up. The fires destroyed four family homes across three generations.
Kukahiko often acts as a go-between between local officials and his neighbours and tries to help people move forward from the fires so they don’t end up “stuck” when this development closes.
He will also leave the site eventually and is rebuilding on his old lot. For now, his community is on this hillside.
“It’s kind of bittersweet,” he said. “But I want to think more ‘sweet.’”
Authorities are investigating Asif Munaf's practices amid rising sick note concerns.