This was supposed to be the easiest and last leg of a BOH work trip, a short interisland hop late in the evening on the final Hawaiian Airlines flight of the night to Lihue at the end of the year. We’ve done this route more times than we can even count, often barely registering it as travel at all. It’s more like a bus ride home when you live here. You board, you lift off, ten minutes later you’re already descending, which is exactly why this one stood out so sharply.
Between us, we’ve easily flown more than a thousand interisland segments over the decades. We know what normal looks like, including late departures and the usual end-of-day delays. This didn’t feel like any of that, and it didn’t take long to realize that things weren’t as planned.
A routine flight that didn’t behave routinely.
The departure was delayed in Honolulu, but that barely registered at first. Very full late-night holiday flights often run behind, and most passengers looked tired, more than annoyed. Our departure delay on the reef runway was to accommodate an emergency on American Airlines 102 from Honolulu to Dallas that was diverted back to HNL shortly after takeoff.
Once airborne, though, it became clear that ours would also not be the usual 100-mile straight shot across the channel from Oahu to Kauai. Our approach seemed normal as we prepared to land, but then the aircraft flew over Lihue instead of landing, and Jeff watched us fly by the airport and then right back over the ocean. As the minutes went by, we appeared to be halfway back to HNL before the captain announced a mechanical issue in flight.
To calm everyone, the Captain then reported the issue had been corrected, and we would be returning to Kauai. Instead of landing however, we began a series of loops towards Kauai and then back over the ocean. The turns tightened in a way you don’t usually see on a flight that should take about twenty-two minutes in total.
People noticed. Phones came out. Seeing what was going on suddenly mattered a lot more than it usually does on a hop like this.
About those announcements.
More announcements came beyond the mechanical issue. There was mention that the control tower at Lihue had closed mid-flight for the night, which meant arriving flights had to be delayed and resequenced under Honolulu’s remote control of Kauai aviation.
That didn’t really clear things up. Tower hours aren’t a surprise, and this was the last interisland flight of the night with only two other mainland arrivals (Alaska and Westjet) anywhere remotely near the airport. Hearing different explanations, none of them very specific, didn’t calm anyone down. And the announcements were eerily far apart.
No one was panicking. It was quieter than that.
When you can feel a cabin go still.
Conversations dropped off. There were looks exchanged that didn’t need commentary. If you’ve flown enough, you know the moment when everyone is thinking the same thing, but no one wants to say it out loud.
This didn’t feel dramatic. It just didn’t feel the least bit familiar, even after this many flights, and that’s enough when it’s late, and you’re still in the air far longer than expected.
The moment after landing that stuck with us.
When we finally landed and deplaned, there was a brief exchange between editor Jeff and the captain. Nothing quotable and nothing actually alarming in what he said. It was the distinct tone that lingered, more serious than you usually hear after a routine delay. Jeff commented that it must have been as challenging up front as it was for those of us in the back. The captain clearly confirmed that to be the case. After thousands of flights, you notice those small things whether you want to or not.
Everyone walked off. The flight moved on.
The plane landed safely and uneventfully, and everyone got off safely without a hitch. By morning, we checked, and the very same aircraft was back in the air on the 6:00 a.m. flight to Honolulu, which tells you whatever caused the delay had been addressed.
This isn’t about danger or a close call. It’s about how unsettling it can feel when something unusual happens on a flight and the explanations offered never quite line up.
Late-night flights make that worse. Staffing thins out. Communication gets shorter. During the holidays, all of that hits even harder than usual.
We grabbed our bags and went on with the night. Still, this one stuck with us in a way most interisland hops don’t. We both shared the Flight Radar 24 image with friends and family.
Maybe you’ve had a flight like that too. Nothing actually went wrong, but you couldn’t quite forget it either.
Image credit FlightRadar24. AS1173 (operated by Hawaiian), December 29, 2025.
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Pretty much all airlines use instrument flight plans and approachs. It appears for whatever reason the flight shot a missed approach. The procedure for this takes you to a point called KREEN 12 nm northeast from the LIH VORTAC. From there you set up for another approach. The crossover point in the screen shot is a location called MORKE where the holding pattern begins (the race track loop on the right side). The other patterns to the left are the maneuvers to intercept MORKE and use the holding pattern to set up for another approach. I reference you to a site called Airnav. Click Airport and type in Lihue. Scroll down to Instrument Procedures and click on the link for ILS OR LOC RWY 35. It will give you a graphical view of the procedure. As it is an Instrument Approach Plate it may not make complete sense.
Honestly, this sounds like pretty normal late-night Island operations to me. Holds happen, explanations aren’t always perfect, and crews don’t always have the full picture or the time to explain them. Not everything unusual equals something wrong.
We had something similar happen flying Maui to Honolulu last year. Nothing was ever explained clearly and everyone just sat there waiting and watching until we landed. I’d rather get an actual technical reason when something’s going on.
UAL1684 right before you came in straight. No clue why, but AS1173 did a loop on approach. It looks like they were trying to slip a King Air right behind you, before Alaska from Seattle. Since it is slow, they often try to have the turboprops turn in right behind incoming jets and let the speed of the jet provide landing separation. When you did you loop, that put the King Air, Alaska and Westjet into extra distance and holding.
When you did come in for the second approach, you had to wait for all three to come back and that is likely the extra loops. The pilots probably weren’t thinking “hey, tell the passengers we’re fine, just that we have extra time to hold to get back in.”
It’s standard procedure for the pilots to complete checklists before attempting to land. That takes time. They are incredibly busy in the cockpit while flying the plane, talking to several stations at once, and talking to the flight attendants and passengers. Aviate-Navigate-Communicate. The ATC issue added another layer to your situation. It is standard procedure, though.
Speaking of subpar flying experiences, I’m sitting in Oakland airport waiting for our flight.
Our original flight plan was Oak to Kona with a stopover in Honolulu. I dutifully checked in 24 hours ahead of our departure time of 7:30 am.
Luckily I checked my email at 4:30 am as I was guzzling my coffee. Hawaiian airlines informed me that they rescheduled our departure for 3 days later and we could apply for a full refund if we desired. WTH?
I called support in a panic trying to understand what went wrong. No explanation was provided.
I was able to get rebooked to Kona but we have a 3 hour wait to board and are being routed to Lihue, then Maui and finally Kona, more than 3 hours after our original arrival time.
We were made to feel fortunate that we could arrive the same day. We’ll see…