Jeff Chenault - Ohio Tiki: Polynesian Idols, Coconut Trees and Tropical Cocktails

Published by The History Press

Charleston, SC

www.historypress.com

Copyright 2019 by Jeff Chenault

All rights reserved

First published 2019

E-book edition 2019

ISBN 978.1.43966.872.6

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019950044

Print Edition ISBN 978.1.46714.247.2

Notice: The information in this book is true and complete to the best of our knowledge. It is offered without guarantee on the part of the author or The History Press. The author and The History Press disclaim all liability in connection with the use of this book.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form whatsoever without prior written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is dedicated to Deb Chenault for believing in me and our beloved cat of fifteen years, Tiki.

CONTENTS

FOREWORD

Ill always have the good fortune to have all of my treasured Tiki memories stem from a trip to the Kahiki Supper Club in Columbus when I was seven years old. That neighborhood Polynesian wonderland transported me to realms I had never dreamed of and cast a spell that continues to enchant me and all Buckeye Tikiphiles to this day.

Since that time, over four decades have passed, and Ive gotten to travel all over the state of Ohio and the country. While visiting a new city, I always do my best to seek out a Tiki bar. Trader Sams in Los Angeles, the Tonga Room in San Francisco, Porcos in Cleveland and my own citys current offering of the delightful Grass Skirt are some of my favorites, but when I had the chance to fly to Fort Lauderdale for a business trip, I knew I had to spend an evening at the venerable Mai-Kai upon which the Kahiki was based. Even as I write this, my eyes are tearing up a bit, because when I entered that amazing Florida Tiki palace, I was immediately transported back to the Kahiki experiencing the wonder and allure that these restaurants radiate. These Polynesian palaces hold immense power; they cast a hypnotic spell over all of those who are willing to be enchanted by magic, wonder and make-believe. For those of us in Ohio, away from palm trees, hibiscus flowers and tropical trade winds, the allure of these places is even more gratifying, as they are an escape from gray winters and flat landscapes. They take us to the fantastic land of exotic cocktails, mysterious dcor and magical Tiki gods!

This is how it all began for me, and I imagine my experience isnt dissimilar from those of the Buckeye readers of this book. In 1973, my mother took my Cub Scout troop on a field trip to the Kahiki to assist us in getting a badge for one thing or another. As a second grader, I had never traveled any farther than the Baskin-Robbins Ice Cream shop down the street from us, so that first trip to the magical realm of Polynesia was seared onto my memory. My first recollection is of standing in front of the largest building I had ever seen in my life at that point. The design of the five-story building was based on mens meetinghouses in New Guinea, and the details featured along the curved roof were based on the many war canoes found in the same region. The pelicans and fish that lined the apex of the roof were thought to symbolize plentiful amounts of good food. Two replica Easter Island heads stood guard at the doorway, which was also lined with Oceanic murals to ward away evil spirits. Upon entering the restaurant, the fountain George greeted patrons with dry ice fog flowing out of its mouthor at least thats how I saw it. There were long, seemingly endless windows along the right-hand side of the restaurant that somehow showcased a thunderstorm in a tropical rainforest every twenty minutes. I was overwhelmed by the wonder and majesty of it allthis was Ohio after allI had never seen anything so truly magical in my life.

When I looked left, past the singing birds, I saw rows upon rows of exotic saltwater fish swimming in tanks along the opposite wallI was gobsmacked. I looked down the center of the restaurant and saw that it was organized by huts that reminded me of the Gilligans Island reruns we sometimes watched on TV. I half-expected Gilligan or the Skipper to come around the corner during our visit, and I kept looking over my shoulder throughout the day to see where they were. As we walked through what I later found out was called the village, we came to the giant fireplace at the other end of the restaurant that was shaped like an Easter Island head. The mouth of the head was the opening of the fireplace, and immediately next to it was a giant gong. I didnt know about the Mystery Girl and the role the gong played in summoning a lovely wahini server carrying sixteen ounces of flaming decadence called the Mystery Bowl until much later.

Patrons of the Kahiki were immersed in the world of South Seas Polynesia, and while there, they could order their choice of exotic fare and island drinks. The Kahiki offered up such drinks as the Malayan Mist, Blue Hurricane, Instant Urge, Maidens Prayer, Misty Isle, Jungle Fever, Head Hunter, Zombie and the Smoking Eruption. Each cocktail was served in its own sculpted mug, which patrons could then purchase from the gift shop and keep as a souvenir to remind them of their visit.

Of all the memories of that glorious first visit that I have, the one I always come back to is that of the bathroom sink. As a part of our field trip, the Kahikis staff members made a small meal for us to enjoy, but my mom insisted that we wash our hands first. Upon entering that incredible washroom, I came face to face with a giant clam-shell sink that ingrained itself into my being and summed up the entire experience. I washed my hands in the giant shell with liquid soap, and it completely captivated me. Those memories stayed with me, and after the Kahiki was demolished, my husband and I scoured flea markets, antique stores and, of course, eBay to get our hands on all things Tiki. We wanted to recreate the restaurants sense of wonder and illusion in our own home. With the help of so many good friends, we built our own Tiki bar, Shipwreck Shirleys, in our central Ohio basement. It serves as a bastion against the everyday, and as of this writing, we invite our extended ohana to join us monthly for Mai Tais, exotica on the Hi-Fi and the occasional Mystery Girl or Mystery Boy to chase away the winter blues and to invite an offering of laughter, companionship and good cheer to the Tiki gods and goddesses of old.

So, a huge MAHALO to my good friend Jeff for sharing the stories that he has collected from every quadrant of our beloved Buckeye State and for allowing me the opportunity to again share one of my own. It is my sincere hope that his stories transport you back to a time where magic was real, exotica music filled the air and rum flowed freely from the bygone Tiki bars that once dotted the Ohio landscape.

Doug Motz

PREFACE

I was introduced to Tiki culture through my love of exotica music, the faux jungle music that transforms everyday Tiki bars into virtual time machines. Its the key ingredient to bringing the Polynesian dcor and tropical cocktails to life. It is a prefabricated world created by the purveyors of mid-century pop culture. Its not about authenticity, its about fun and escapism. When you live in Ohio, sometimes an escape is just what you need. Who wouldnt want something that removes you from your daily routine to instantly transport you to a South Seas tropical paradise?