THE BIG ISLAND, Hawaii — In some ways, Hawaii has always been a bit ambivalent toward tourists. When Captain Cook arrived here in 1778 he was considered a god. Just a year later — after he had, well, overtaxed his welcome — he ended up murdered.
For the most part, however, latter-day tourists have bathed in the aloha spirit. Their cash flow is as much a part of the landscape as the lava flow.
Only today there are a few second thoughts about what is called "the visitor industry." On Oahu, the famed Waikiki Beach is mourned as a honky-tonk strip. On Maui, visitors lured by the surf complain about being stuck in traffic. And even here on the Big Island, where coffee growing and cattle ranching coexist with golf courses and luxury hotels, there is talk of the fragility of a state whose ecology is also its economy.
In the ocean on this day, humpback whales surface and sea turtles float close to shore. But along this developed Kohala Coast, a duly labeled "nature trail" leads from one luxury hotel to another past a trophy house under construction.
The idea that tourists in search of snorkeling and sunsets have an environmental impact has begun to take a tenuous toehold on the island consciousness.
Any day now, in a seminal case, the Hawaiian Supreme Court may decide whether state money spent to promote tourism requires an environmental impact statement. In short, should tourism be guided by the same rules as, say, highway construction or housing development?
This case began a couple of years ago when David Frankel of the Sierra Club heard that Hawaii was going to funnel $114 million into a marketing plan to increase tourism by 14 percent — or about a million people a year. Frankel and Isaac Hall, a lawyer, had the same thought at the same time:
"Shouldn't we know the impact on the water, the beaches, the trails?" remembers Frankel. "Let's stop a minute and think about what we're doing."
The suit was attacked as "loony" by the state head of tourism. Others insisted that it would tie the government's hands.
Yet, gradually in the months before and since the October court hearing, there's been more support for a requirement to look at the effect of visitors on development, on fragile natural resources and on that intangible asset: the wilderness experience. What's the "carrying capacity" of an island?
The Sierra Club didn't start out to set a nationwide precedent or to define tourism as pollution. But it's not exactly news that development can kill the golden goose.
"We're not saying the visitor industry is evil," says Frankel, who was born in Honolulu. Indeed in many places, tourism has been the salvation of rainforests and tourists have become defenders of everything from sea turtles to tigers.
But the strategy is one way to deal with the growing realization that tourists can love a place to death.
Ellen Goodman's e-mail address is ellengoodman@globe.com .