For the first time in 155 years, a hurricane is bearing down directly on Hawaii's Big Island, carrying winds, walls of rain, and the weight of a long-dormant threat suddenly reawakened. Hurricane Lala, a Category 1 storm, brings not only the immediate dangers of flooding and mudslides to some 200,000 residents, but also the quieter peril of wildfire in the dry air surrounding its edges. In a state where the last major hurricane landfall lives only in history books for most residents, Lala is forcing a reckoning with how quickly the familiar can become the catastrophic.
Hurricane Lala threatens Hawaii with catastrophic rain, flooding as state declares emergency
Potential life-threatening flooding and mudslides affecting approximately 200,000 residents on the Big Island; 40,000+ without power across Hawaii.
The Big Island hadn't taken a direct hurricane hit in 155 years
Mark
Why does a direct hit matter so much for the Big Island specifically? Hasn't Hawaii been through hurricanes before?
Mimi
The Big Island hasn't taken a direct hit in 155 years. That's longer than most people have been alive. Infrastructure, building codes, emergency response systems—they're all built on the assumption that a direct strike is unlikely. When something that rare actually happens, the systems can be overwhelmed.
Mark
And the rain projections—25 inches sounds like a lot, but is that unusual for a hurricane?
Mimi
Not unusual for a hurricane, no. But the Big Island's terrain is steep and volcanic. Water doesn't spread out evenly. It rushes downhill fast, and when you add mudslides to flooding, you're not just dealing with water damage. You're dealing with entire hillsides moving.
Mark
The wildfire risk seems counterintuitive. How does a hurricane create conditions for fires?
Mimi
The hurricane itself is a tight system. Outside of it, the air is actually dry and the winds are strong. Those winds can push fire across dry vegetation incredibly fast. In 2023, Lahaina burned that way—the hurricane was offshore, but the wind and dryness did the damage.
Mark
What about the 200,000 people on the Big Island? Where do they go if they need to evacuate?
Mimi
That's the hard part. You can't evacuate an island easily. You can shelter in place, which is what the governor ordered. You open emergency shelters, you hope your building codes hold, and you wait it out.
Mark
And the power outages—40,000 customers without electricity. How long does that typically last after a hurricane?
Mimi
Days, sometimes weeks, depending on the damage. The longer the outage, the harder it gets—no refrigeration, no air conditioning in heat, no way to charge phones or get information. That's when the real strain on communities shows up.
Le Pouls
- A Category 1 hurricane is making the rarest of approaches — a direct strike on Hawaii's Big Island, something the archipelago has not faced in over a century and a half.
- Up to 25 inches of rain threatens to trigger life-threatening mudslides on the island's steep terrain, while storm surge and dangerous waves batter the coastline.
- More than 40,000 residents have already lost power, airports have been shut down, and a state of emergency has been declared as Governor Green urges everyone to stay put.
- Beyond the storm itself, the dry and breezy conditions in its outer bands raise the specter of wildfire — a danger made visceral by the memory of Lahaina's catastrophic 2023 blaze.
- With El Niño intensifying Pacific hurricane activity, Lala may be less an anomaly than a warning of a more turbulent season still ahead.
For the first time in 155 years, a hurricane is bearing down directly on Hawaii's Big Island, carrying winds, walls of rain, and the weight of a long-dormant threat suddenly reawakened. Hurricane Lala, a Category 1 storm, brings not only the immediate dangers of flooding and mudslides to some 200,000 residents, but also the quieter peril of wildfire in the dry air surrounding its edges. In a state where the last major hurricane landfall lives only in history books for most residents, Lala is forcing a reckoning with how quickly the familiar can become the catastrophic.
Hurricane Lala reached Category 1 strength on Saturday morning as it closed in on the southern tip of Hawaii's Big Island, carrying 75 mph winds and rainfall projections that alarmed forecasters from the start. The National Hurricane Center warned that some areas could see up to 25 inches of rain — a volume capable of turning the island's steep coastal terrain into a landscape of mudslides and life-threatening floods. It was, by any measure, a historic approach: the Big Island had not faced a direct hurricane strike in 155 years.
The storm's reach extended well beyond the Big Island. Tropical storm warnings spread across Oahu, Maui, and several other islands, while surge and dangerous waves threatened coastlines throughout the chain. By Saturday, over 40,000 utility customers had lost power, airports at Hilo and Kona were closed, and emergency shelters were opening across the state. Governor Josh Green declared a state of emergency and asked residents to shelter in place, calling Lala simply "a serious storm."
Meteorologists were watching a second threat alongside the hurricane itself. The dry, breezy air surrounding Lala's circulation created prime conditions for wildfire — a risk that carried particular weight after the 2023 destruction of Lahaina, where extreme winds tied to an offshore hurricane turned a fire into a catastrophe. This time the storm was closer, but the danger in its margins remained real.
The arrival of Lala coincided with an active El Niño pattern in the Pacific, raising the possibility that this season could bring more storms to follow. For many Hawaiians, the last major hurricane landfall — Iniki's devastating strike on Kauai in 1992 — existed only as history. With Lala now approaching, that history was suddenly, urgently present.
Hurricane Lala crossed into Category 1 strength on Saturday morning as its center bore down on the southern tip of Hawaii's Big Island, bringing with it the kind of rain and wind that forces entire islands to hold their breath. The storm carried maximum sustained winds of 75 miles per hour, and forecasters were bracing for something the Big Island had not experienced in 155 years: a direct hurricane strike.
The rainfall projections alone were enough to trigger alarm. The National Hurricane Center warned that parts of the Big Island could receive between 10 and 20 inches of rain, with some areas potentially seeing as much as 25 inches. That volume of water falling in a short window, especially on terrain that rises steeply from the coast, creates the conditions for something worse than flooding alone. Mudslides become inevitable. The hurricane center issued an explicit warning: this rainfall would produce life-threatening flooding and mudslides, particularly in the steeper regions of the island.
The Big Island, home to roughly 200,000 people and the largest landmass in the Hawaiian archipelago, was not alone in the storm's path. A hurricane warning covered the Big Island itself, while tropical storm warnings extended across Oahu—which holds Honolulu and about 70 percent of Hawaii's total population—as well as Maui, Molokai, Lanai, Kahoolawe, Kauai, and Niihau. The storm surge was expected to reach one to three feet, accompanied by large and dangerous waves that would pound the coastline.
By Saturday, the practical consequences were already visible. More than 40,000 utility customers across the state had lost power, with over 31,000 of those on the Big Island itself. Governor Josh Green declared a state of emergency and instructed residents to shelter in place, describing Lala simply as "a serious storm." Authorities moved quickly to close both Hilo International Airport and Ellison Onizuka Kona International Airport. Emergency shelters opened across the islands. Residents received instructions to clear drains and gutters, move valuables away from ground level, and prepare for power outages that could last days.
But the immediate threat from Lala was not the only concern meteorologists were tracking. Outside the hurricane's immediate circulation, conditions were dry and breezy—exactly the setup for rapid wildfire spread. Vanessa Almanza, a National Weather Service meteorologist in Honolulu, flagged this risk explicitly. The memory of 2023 was still fresh: the Maui town of Lahaina had burned catastrophically when extreme winds accompanied a hurricane passing far offshore. This time, the hurricane itself was coming closer, but the dry air surrounding it could still ignite fires in vulnerable areas.
The timing of Lala's arrival coincided with a powerful El Niño event in the Pacific, a climate pattern that tends to increase hurricane activity in these waters. For Hawaii, the broader context mattered too. The state had not experienced a major hurricane landfall since Hurricane Iniki struck Kauai in 1992, killing six people and inflicting billions of dollars in damage. That was 34 years ago. For many residents, it was a distant historical event, not a lived memory. Now, with Lala approaching, that history was becoming suddenly relevant again.
Citations marquantes
This rainfall will produce life-threatening flooding and mudslides, especially in areas of steep terrain— US National Hurricane Center
It's a serious storm— Hawaii Governor Josh Green
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Climate & Environment