The trailer that Mario Siatris and U‘i Kahue-Cabanting ordered from a camping outfitter in Oregon is bogged down by assembly delays, throwing the business partners’ plans in the air and threatening their hopes for a seamless transition out of their FEMA-funded hotel rooms.

They had originally expected to pick up their new 26-foot trailer on Maui in mid-March. A first delay pushed back the rig’s arrival by a month. Then a second snarl deferred its expected arrival by another two weeks. The trailer’s current ETA? Early May.

The trailer’s assembly now is so far behind that they may not get it before the Federal Emergency Management Agency stops paying the island’s hotels and resorts to house fire survivors. The federal agency has said it wants to end its hotel program by the end of April.

This could leave U‘i and Mario with a gap of some days between a looming hotel move-out date and the trailer’s delivery to Kahului Harbor.

The uncertainty is stress-inducing for Mario, who views the trailer as a haven from living under the thumb of FEMA. He’s grateful that the federal government has housed him for so long, but it’s been a stifling experience, particularly because he’s employed by the same resort that he’s called home for the last seven months. Although small and stark, the trailer represents a giant step toward the independence and autonomy he craves.

U‘i says she’s confident that in a bind there are plenty of people who would offer the pair a short-term place to stay. 

What’s more, the Oregon-based owners of the resort condominium where Mario’s been living since the fire torched the home he owned on Mela Street have known Mario for years and think of him fondly. They’ve assured him that no matter what happens with the FEMA emergency housing program, they’ll continue to allow him to stay in their condo, without charge, for as long as he needs.

If either of them are going to get kicked out of the hotel program before the trailer arrives, U‘i says it’s her. But she’s not unmoored by the prospect of a messy transition into RV living.

“We’re blessed,” U‘i says. “I know we’re taken care of. But Mario, he worries.”

The trailer is expected to come off the assembly line on April 10. That’s roughly when U‘i and her husband Ronald now plan to fly to Oregon to inspect the rig and sign the financing paperwork.

Then, volunteers from a Hawaiian civic club that last September hosted U’i and Mario for a series of coconut weaving workshops on the outskirts of Portland will drive the trailer to the Port of Portland. It will take about two weeks for the trailer to reach Kahului Harbor.

Neither Mario nor U‘i will own the trailer, however. To comply with the loss-of-use coverage rules on Mario’s homeowner insurance, he has to rent the trailer from a third party. So Ron, a disabled veteran who lives on Molokai, has agreed to buy the trailer and lease it to Mario for roughly $1,600 a month, depending on what the final sale price turns out to be.

People like Mario with homeowners insurance must use up all of their coverage before they can become eligible for FEMA’s long-term housing program, which is driving the push to relocate fire survivors out of pricey resorts and into residential neighborhoods.

But Mario says he doesn’t want to rely on the federal disaster agency any longer. His insurance policy will cover up to roughly $100,000 for rental housing and other reasonable living expenses while he’s waiting for his home to be rebuilt. The policy will finance his monthly rent payments, which should help Ron pay down his loan on the trailer fairly quickly.

U‘i will live in the trailer with Mario while they work together to rebuild Mario’s home and Maui Grown 808, their native plant and cultural arts business. 

The Lahaina fire destroyed the plumeria orchard and plant nursery that had powered Maui Grown 808 since its inception in 2013. Despite these losses, the partners have continued to teach coconut-weaving workshops at Maui hotels and festivals, across Hawaii and on the mainland. However, the plant sales that once drove their bottom line could take years to recuperate.

Earlier this month U‘i successfully renegotiated their contract with the Westin resort, where she has been living since the fire. The new contract increases by $500 the weekly revenue the business receives for its coconut-weaving workshops. Maui Grown 808 offers 10 workshops per week in the hotel lobby, teaching vacationers how to weave coconut fronds into durable hats and baskets.

This income boost will help cover a new business expense: supermarket flowers. Since the fire destroyed Maui Grown 808’s plumeria nursery, the business partners have had to buy flower bouquets as substitute flourishes for the fragrant plumeria blooms they used to supply to their workshop attendees.

The extra money will also help U‘i and Mario pay their workers higher wages in a tight job market.

Mario and U‘i’s personal recovery is intrinsically linked to the resurgence of their business. Their long-planned move into a trailer is the next important step in their struggle to return a sense of normalcy to their lives.

“It seems like I got all the pieces lined up, I’m praying on that,” U‘i says of the ever-shifting logistics of ordering and shipping a trailer 2,500 miles from the Pacific Northwest to Hawaii. “So now if they just come together we’ll be in really great shape. If any one of the pieces falls apart, that could be a stopper. But right now I think I’ve done everything I’ve needed to do. Now we wait.”

Civil Beat’s coverage of Maui County is supported in part by a grant from the Nuestro Futuro Foundation.