Memories of a bustling Lihue Sugar Mill filled William Farias’ head during a recent blessing at the site as contractors prepared the structures for demolition.
"I could feel my eyes getting watery," said Farias, who worked as the mill’s boiling house superintendent for 28 years. "It wasn’t from the sun."
Demolition permit applications were filed with the Kauai Department of Public Works last week by PAHIO Development Inc., seeking approval to tear down the historic Lihue Sugar Mill and Kekaha Sugar Mill.
If approved, demolition work is expected to start by the end of the year, according to Lynn McCrory of PAHIO Development, which purchased the mills in August 2007.
The structures have deteriorated to the point where they raise safety concerns.
Asbestos was used as an insulator throughout the mills, according to McCrory. Recent photos show asbestos on the pipes, boilers, furnaces and other areas.
"It’s just everywhere," she said.
Since the closing of the mills in November 2000, the structures have been vandalized and occupied periodically by homeless people.
There are no plans for the property following the demolition, but meetings will be held to keep residents posted.
When the iconic structures vanish from the landscape, so will some of the last reminders of an era that many Kauai residents still recall fondly.
"It’s very sad that all the sugar companies have gone by the wayside," said Lyle Tabata, 55, who served as the last factory manager at both Kauai mills.
All the sugar mills across the state have been shut down except for the Hawaiian Commercial & Sugar Co. mill in Puunene, Maui.
The Lihue mill was built in 1849 in the valley of Nawiliwili Stream with equipment brought in from China and Honolulu, according to the Hawaiian Sugar Planters’ Association archives.
In 1880 Anton Faye and H.P. Faye harvested the first crop for Kekaha Sugar, which led to the construction of Kekaha Sugar Mill.
Farias, the boiling house veteran, 68, said he was saddened when he heard of the demolition plans. The Lihue mill spawned a community where residents paid no more than $50 a month for rent, and nearby mom-and-pop shops were the sole source of groceries and household items.
"It’ll be missed," he said.
Tabata started working for Amfac on Kauai in 1980 and oversaw day-to-day operations from 1997 until 2002. After the mills shut down, he continued to manage the Lihue power plant, which supplied 13 percent of Kauai’s electrical capacity until the power station in Kapaia was built.
Tabata, who is now the county deputy engineer, recalled how Lihue Sugar Mill hit a record year in 1986, producing 86,000 tons of sugar. The mill typically produced about 72,000 tons a year.
At Kekaha the sugar-processing machines could be seen from the road, and buses would stop from time to time and disgorge curious tourists to watch.
"The guys tending to the unloading area would cut little pieces of sugar cane to give to tourists to chew on," Tabata recalled.
Years later Tabata had to inform workers of the mills’ impending closure.
"That was the worst time of my life," he said. "Letting 400 people know in a single day that we’re going to close is not a good feeling."
Tabata’s father, Teruo, also worked at Lihue Sugar and at Kekaha Sugar as chief engineer. He later served as factory superintendent for Oahu Sugar Co.
Tabata said his father was instrumental in the redesign of the cane cleaners to recover bagasse — fiber left behind from the shredded cane — to use in boilers as fuel.
Farias, a third-generation mill worker, spent most of his years at Lihue Sugar and a few years as factory manager at Kekaha Sugar.
Farias’ father, William, worked as a preventive maintenance supervisor. Farias recalled how as a child he went to the cane fields on Sundays, when his father conducted routine checks on equipment.
His grandfather Olin, who immigrated to Kauai from Portugal with his parents when he was 3, worked at Lihue Sugar as a dispatcher, sending locomotives and railroad cars to different fields.
A former sugar cane train still runs, offering educational tours.
"Every time the whistle blows, I’ll be thinking of the bygone years of the plantation days," Farias said.