The 9 Biggest Mistakes Tourists Make at Ala Moana Beach

I’ve lived on Oahu for 20 years, and my afternoons often end with a walk through Ala Moana Beach Park. But lately, I’ve watched tourists make the same mistakes my cousins and I learned to avoid as kids – like stepping on sea urchins or arguing with fishermen.

Ala Moana isn’t just a beach – it’s our backyard. Here’s how to enjoy it without becoming that visitor.

Thinking It’s Just Another Waikiki

Ala Moana isn’t Waikiki. No high-rises shadow the sand, and the crowds here are locals teaching toddlers to paddleboard or grandmas doing water aerobics. Last summer, I overheard a dad grumble, “Where’s the ABC Store? I need sunscreen!” Spoiler: There isn’t one. Bring your own. The closest shops are across the street at Ala Moana Center, but you’ll miss the magic if you treat this like a tourist strip.

Pro tip: Pack snacks, towels, and reef-safe sunscreen. The beach has showers and picnic tables, but no convenience stores.

Ignoring the Fishermen’s Turf

“Uncle, your line’s in my swim zone!” I once heard a teen yell at a local fisherman. Big mistake. The rocky edges near Magic Island are prime fishing spots, especially when schools of halalu (juvenile fish) swarm the shallows. Fishermen here aren’t just hobbyists—they’re feeding families.

Last year, a tourist waded into a fishing area, snagged a hook in her foot, and yelled until lifeguards arrived. The locals? They just shook their heads.

Pro tip: Swim between the white buoys. If you see lines in the water, walk 50 feet downshore.

Forgetting the Ocean Plays Dirty

Ala Moana’s lagoon looks calm, but beyond the reef, waves hit hard. My brother learned this the hard way when he tried surfing “just outside the buoys” and got tossed onto the reef. “Felt like sliding on a cheese grater,” he groaned, picking coral out of his knees for weeks.

Rip currents here are sneaky. If you’re pulled out, don’t fight it. Swim parallel to shore until you’re free.

Pro tip: Lifeguards are on duty until 5:30 PM. If the red flag’s up, stay shallow.

Showing Up at High Noon

Parking fills by 9 AM, especially on weekends. I once circled the lot for 20 minutes while a family unloaded a minivan full of coolers, tents, and inflatable flamingos. By the time I found a spot, the shade was gone.

Locals arrive at sunrise to claim grassy areas under the banyan trees. If you’re late, you’ll bake on the sand.

Pro tip: Park at Ala Moana Center and walk 10 minutes. Bonus: AC and shave ice afterward.

Touching More Than the Sand

“Look, a turtle! Let’s grab it!” a tourist once shouted near Magic Island. Spoiler: That’s illegal. Hawaiian green sea turtles (honu) are protected, and harassing them can net you a $10,000 fine. Same goes for coral—snorkeling here is fun, but don’t stand on the reef.

My niece once sliced her foot on urchin spines after ignoring my “wear water shoes” advice. She didn’t make that mistake twice.

Pro tip: Bring old sneakers for rocky areas. If you see wildlife, admire from a distance.

Assuming the Park Closes at Dusk

Ala Moana’s gates lock at 10 PM, but I’ve seen tourists lingering past sunset for “romantic walks.” Bad idea. After dark, the park’s poorly lit, and homeless encampments (yes, they exist here) become more visible. A friend once got her purse snatched while taking night photos near the marina.

Pro tip: Wrap up by 8 PM. For evening strolls, try Waikiki’s lit pathways instead.

Wearing the Flower Wrong

Hawaii’s flower-in-hair stereotype isn’t just a cliché—it’s a cultural marker. At a beach bonfire last year, a visitor asked me, “Left or right side?” I explained: Right means single, left means taken. She switched hers three times that night.

Pro tip: If you wear a bloom, tuck it behind your right ear. And please—don’t pick wild plumeria.

Overlooking the Local Grind

“Why’s everyone eating Spam?” a tourist once asked me. Ala Moana’s food scene is where Hawaii’s mix of cultures shines. Skip the mainland chains and try poke bowls from Foodland or malasadas (Portuguese doughnuts) from Leonard’s Bakery.

My tūtū (grandma) used to pack musubi (Spam sushi) for beach days. Trust me—it beats overpriced resort snacks.

Pro tip: Hit the Ala Moana Center food court for budget-friendly local eats.

Missing the Hidden Perks

Most tourists stick to the main beach, but locals love the western end near Kewalo Basin. The water’s clearer, and you’ll spot fewer crowds. Last month, I watched a monk seal nap there while tourists mobbed the lagoon.

Another secret? Tennis courts by the marina are free first-come, first-served.

Pro tip: Walk the Magic Island loop at sunset. You’ll get Diamond Head views without the Instagram crowds.

Final Thoughts

Ala Moana’s more than a beach—it’s where Honolulu comes to breathe. Treat it with the same respect you’d show a friend’s living room. Bring reef-safe sunscreen, watch where you step, and never turn your back on the ocean.

Still unsure? Ask a local. We don’t bite—unlike the urchins.