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Polynesian Pop Vegas - Part 4: Stray Pirate.

August 02, 2026 by Dave Gottwald

At the advice of my good friend “Tiki Teacom,” I decided to check out one of the newer tropical watering holes in the Las Vegas Arts District during my visit, Stray Pirate. I'll elaborate below why I feel the establishment counts as Polynesian Pop, though, because founder Chris “Tater” Gutierrez was quick to note soon after its fall 2023 opening that “We’re not actually a tiki bar. There are no tikis in here. We’re very careful about doing that. We’re looking for this place to age well.”

As such the emphasis is on pirates and nautical decor. The exterior consists of stylized shipping crates with oversized rope. It’s almost cartoonish.

Quite the spiffy logo on the flag flying overhead. You can’t have pirates without flags! The type appears to be from the venerable Letterhead Fonts Company. Their faces are used frequently at the American Disney parks. This lettering would be from the 1800s–1900s collection, the same one the Imagineering graphic designers use. If I were to guess I’d say it’s based on Hensler 2.

The storefront itself reminds of the 826 Valencia Pirate Supply Store in the Mission District of San Francisco. It’s playful. This prop canon looks like it came right off Disneyland’s Pirates of the Caribbean. But the presentation is not realistic.

And yet once you walk inside, you’re within the hull of a sunken ship. It’s a completely immersive environment full of credible materials, elaborate props, and dramatic lighting. All the essential components of a themed space.

To my right are a line of portholes with digital flat screens behind them displaying underwater footage on a slow loop. There is rope and other nautical riggings everywhere.

I also spot the first of many dog pirate portraits.

To my left is a bank of booths very similar to those at Golden Tiki. That’s because “Bamboo Ben” Bassham was again tapped to provide the interior design. The enclosures over the seating are less of a island shipwrecked vibe, though. It’s more like everything is actually part of the vessel around us.

One recurring pop culture reference here is to the classic 1985 teen adventure comedy The Goonies which features much pirate lore.

The lighting inside Golden Tiki was pleasant. But here at Stray Pirate it’s even more atmospheric. More natural. There’s a lot more subtlety.

These lines of hurricane lamps contain LEDs which flicker softly.

Behind the bar is another series of much larger digital flat displays. The edges are irregular, as if the wooden planks lining the walls have been broken through.

The video loop is synchronized across all the screens, so the effect is one long vista of multiple portals. Fish and other sea creatures swim by. There are streams of realistic bubbles amid a variety of props. It’s a bit like an aquarium yet not.

All of the furniture seems to have been pillaged from inside an antique Spanish galleon. The backing of the booths along the wall is comprised of headboards. The chairs are mismatched. All the upholstery is a deep, velvety red.

The lighting fixtures aren’t limited to hurricane lamps either.

For example, there are plenty of the tropical trope I found at both Frankie’s and Golden Tiki—the lighted glass Japanese fishing float. This is one reason why I’d still call Stray Pirate a Polynesian Pop establishment.

Look at the amount of fishing float lights and flower leis hanging from the ceiling to the left. And contrast this with the glow of the hurricane lamps above the bar to the right. There is a melange at work here. A mixture of nautical notes with tropical vibes.

The bar area becomes its own environment, separate from the rest. There’s some effective mood lighting here, awash in reds, which contrasts with the blue hues of the underwater displays.

And some unique props, like this faux antique hardcover book (likely resin) with custom pirate map illustration. X marks the spot, of course.

Just to right of the end of the bar is another dog portrait. This one reminds me of a character from one of Wes Anderson’s stop-motion animated films.

Similar to Golden Tiki, the restroom area is its own separate enclave with unique themed elements. Here, a darkened blue grotto. There is a treasure of gold bars spilling out onto the floor below a wall of elaborate rockwork.

You can take a seat on the bench alongside this long-departed soul while you wait to relieve yourself.

There are two bathrooms, each with a unique theme. Both mermaids and pirates are welcome.

Here the Disney tributes are more explicit. This is the actual map once passed out at Disneyland for Pirate’s Lair, the 2007 rebranded version of Tom Sawyer’s Island.

And here are the lyrics for the famous theme song to the Pirates of the Caribbean attraction, typeset in what looks like a face from Letterhead Fonts Company again.

A great joke here above the toilet. I hope I don’t need to explain it. Hint: this is a unisex bathroom.

The second restroom is regal and elegant. Here are the rest of the dog portraits similar to the ones out in the main space. Stray Pirate founder Chris Gutierrez says that “our backstory is that these pirates were sailing along and they all got cursed and turned into dogs, but in doing so found their true treasure to be loyalty and camaraderie.”

All are the work of California artist Gwen Rosewater, who has executed over 500 dog portraits. Gutierrez commissioned the paintings as representations of his and his investors and staff’s pets.

The power of this liminal space is, like at Golden Tiki, evident when you make your way back into the bar. Bamboo Ben appears to have several design techniques which he repeatedly draws upon for his different projects.

Naturally, there is merchandise available, here displayed in appropriate glass cabinetry. Mugs, glassware, and various apparel items, all thoughtfully designed.

Though the founder of Stray Pirate is weary of the “tiki” moniker, this is a themed Polynesian Pop bar—of the Caribbean nautical variety—par excellence. It reminds me a lot of Undertow in Phoenix, Arizona, where the emphasis is on piracy on the high seas rather than statuary, carvings, and the islands of the South Seas.

Continued in Part 5.

August 02, 2026 /Dave Gottwald
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Polynesian Pop Vegas - Part 3: Golden Monkey Tiki Lounge.

July 27, 2026 by Dave Gottwald

The next stop on my Polynesian Pop tour of Sin City is yet another golden establishment as it turns out—Golden Monkey Tiki Lounge within Resorts World Las Vegas (2021), the first new resort completed on the Strip since Cosmopolitan (2010).

The name, icon figure, and typeface all conjure up visions of the Far East, perhaps Indochina, and under colonial rule at that. The bar opened in 2023 as a redesign of the prior lounge from two years earlier attached to the adjacent Genting Palace Restaurant. One review noted this was because it was “too formal and intimidating for their lounge to see casual traffic from people not interested in dining.”

Golden Monkey was the first bar with a tiki theme to open on the Las Vegas Strip proper since the ill-fated Taboo Cove at The Venetian. The vibe is very upscale, fitting with the other restaurants within Resorts World (which, I chuckled to myself, seems like such a rip-off of Walt Disney World).

True to form, the entrance is flanked by two unique tiki god statues.

They appear to have been standard models supplied by Oceanic Arts, which for 65 years was the leading purveyor of Polynesian Pop carvings and associated decor. In fact, I have a similar figure in my own home which I purchased there in 2011.

The space is quite attractive, but again more luxury resort than tiki bar. Golden Monkey is a good example of when theming becomes more of an interior design motif. Environments like this are not experientially immersive, I would argue, because you do not feel truly transported to another time and place.

There are also many abstracted elements, which again detract from immersion. At the Golden Tiki Lounge, such moments are interwoven with more deeply rendered thematic touches, and as such contribute to an overall fantasy other-worldliness.

But when they appear isolated, like these enlarged metal cages with flat, toy-like plastic monkey shapes trying to escape, they read almost as branded elements.

The furniture is well-considered with varying pillow patterns and top arm rails that curve downward suggesting, again, an Asian influence.

I noticed octopus-shaped LED candle holders and some typical tiki mugs left by recently-departed patrons.

Octopuses appear to be a recurring notion throughout, though what connection they have to the namesake monkey theme I have no idea.

The woven rattan is fine and restrained. Playful dimensional masks in abstract frames are sprinkled about the walls. I can imagine some affluent guests finding this rather tasteful compared with the more-is-more, cluttered and packed-to-the-gills approach that many contemporary bars like Golden Tiki take.

There are notes of Polynesian Pop environments gone by, such as these oars, but always with a measure of restraint.

It almost feels like the staging you’d find in a retail space. Tommy Bahama comes to mind.

The bar area itself is the “most Las Vegas” part of Golden Monkey Tiki. I did appreciate that the large flat screen television was turned off. I’m assuming it’s there for when there is a major sporting event. The seats are plush red and match the abstract mosaic of circles framing the display.

A unique tiki stands at either side.

For whatever reason, both are adorned with a single starfish.

I thought these were really interesting. There are two banks of tiki mugs displayed in a tall green grid to the left and right of the bar. I recognize some as Tiki Farm originals and others as more generic designs. Many of them are duplicated in pairs. It’s a really inexpensive way to express the theme of the space in a visually interesting way. And, again, it’s the kind of interior decor you’d find in an upscale retail environment.

The presentation rhymes with the bar’s largest abstract element, this towering palm tree column.

At the far end just to left of this palm is a glass portal that faces the hotel hallway outside, flanked by foliage as well as flat graphics.

It’s a very club-like environment, and one that I would not classify as thematic design. The space has a theme (or themes), but everything is expressed through traditional interior decor. The Golden Monkey Tiki Lounge, though attractive, is not a truly immersive space. I don’t feel like I have been transported to another time and place.

True themed spaces resemble film sets and employ their visual grammar. Golden Monkey Tiki has many charming elements, like this hula dancer above, but it’s more an exercise in traditional interior design. Moreover, the mug display turned out to be a tremendous tease. They have no custom designs, and through the bar staff will sell you the one you just drank out of, the price is ridiculous.

Continued in Part 4.

July 27, 2026 /Dave Gottwald

Polynesian Pop Vegas - Part 2: The Golden Tiki.

July 21, 2026 by Dave Gottwald

Frankie’s Tiki Room was the lone Vegas Polynesian Pop mecca for nearly a decade. Then The Golden Tiki arrived in the city’s Chinatown during the summer of 2015. Located in a small strip mall called The Center at Spring Mountain, the bar replaced an establishment called Little Macau.

Founded by former Hard Rock Hotel creative director Branden Powers, Golden Tiki was heavily inspired by Disneyland. It represents a step forward in themed immersion, more like the classic tiki temples of mid-century like the Aku Aku than Frankie’s. Yet with a contemporary twist and a wink and a nod to popular culture.

Case in point are the carved shields out front. The art is playful rather than attempting to channel legitimate South Seas vibes. In the center is the Golden Tiki mascot.

There is a mixture of signage outside, like this strange arrowhead form with Western wood typography. Like Frankie’s, Golden Tiki is open 24 hours and you can gamble.

Because it’s located within a strip mall, the bar still sports the standard fin that all the business tenants of The Center at Spring Mountain use.

The carvings on the door handle pulls look like the more traditional figures found at places like Trader Vic’s, even though they, too, are Americanized pop interpretations. This is one of the interesting aspects of tiki theming. Something can be called classic or traditional, and it’s referring to tiki’s own mid-century past rather than anything actual authentic to Pacific Islander culture.

Immediately upon entry, the Chinatown of Las Vegas disappears behind me. Themed environments are famous for transitions, liminal spaces, and thresholds. This is what Golden Tiki calls a “secret lava rock cave entrance with waterfall.” It noticeably cooler than the night desert air. I can feel the humidity of the water trickling down. The lighting effects shimmer. I almost feel and hear a slight breeze. I’m transported.

To the right as I walk in is a Tropical Trading Outpost, one of the many tropes of Polynesian Pop. Again begun by Trader Vic’s, there were many, many tiki bars using a Trader moniker, including Trader Dick’s, Traders Inn, Trader Ku's, and most recently the Disneyland Resort’s own Trader Sam’s (2011). A hand-painted sign reads BUY-SELL-HOCK-TRADE and there are various crates and cages filled with antique and vintage bric-a-brac, including the Central American idol from Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981).

As is customary, there is always a tiki or two at the foyer to greet us. A total of twenty-four carvings like this one were executed by Bosko, who had done the same for both Taboo Cove and Frankie’s.

Immediately I can tell this is quite the cut above any tiki bar I’d yet seen in Las Vegas. The amount of detail is simply stunning. The central bar is roofed in thatch, common enough, bur everything is deliciously backlit. This is a space to drink in just as much as the cocktails.

Around to the left are some booths enclosed by fort-like bamboo structures. Again, this is common in Polynesian Pop environments. The design provides a measure of intimacy but also a sense of inhabitation, like we are living on a tropical island in a makeshift assemblage of our own creation. Perhaps we were shipwrecked here.

Just to the right of that along the wall is a series of cartoonish clamshells from which water cascades. The bar calls these, tongue firmly in cheek, Seamen Falls.

Walking around, I notice that Golden Tiki is a series of four interlocking lounge spaces that each carry an individual yet related theme.

For example, this is The Pirates Lair, which deeply channels Disney lore. There is an Audio-Animatronic figure above at the left (not sure if it’s a replica or an actual retired park attraction figure). The amount of propping, especially above my head, is impressive. I love that every space has multiple levels of detail, like this shelf above the booth areas carrying a painting and a skeleton locked up in a jail cell.

Everywhere you turn, the theme shifts slightly. But if you’re a fan of tiki in general, and the Disney parks more specifically, there are many not-so-hidden tributes to take in.

Along the wall to the right side as you enter The Golden Tiki is a series of typical A-frame thatch hut seating areas which are meticulously decorated. Though these date back to mid-century tiki establishments, the contemporary version of the trope is far more involved.

The lighting, in particular, is exquisite.

Each hut features a unique wall carving.

Again, these are more playful than authentic.

This one especially reminds me of Rolly Crump’s work on the original Walt Disney’s Enchanted Tiki Room.

Coming around to the rear corner of the central bar I notice another skeleton. There are several of them sprinkled throughout, often to humorous effect, which of course suggests to me Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean.

And just above I notice something else. Even more Disney magic. There is an LED starfield embedded in the black ceiling, and periodically fiber optic fireworks erupt. The loop is long and the effect is subtle. You have to look up for a while to catch them.

A different Bosko tiki god guards each corner of the bar, along with a ship’s bell to announce things like a special drink order or last call. The torches, which appears to be LED, flicker realistically.

While I’m gazing starward, I notice a number of round lamps. They are based on another tiki trope dating back to the first Don the Beachcomber bar in Los Angeles which was later adopted by Victor Bergeron for his Trader Vic’s chain—the glass Japanese fishing float, called buoy balls (ukidama, 浮き玉) or glass balls (bindama, ビン玉). These were used as tropical decor, and during the tiki revival morphed into colorful light sources.

What’s clever here is how they’ve been installed. Many tiki establishments hang such lamps from a simple wood lattice structure. But here a small fishing boat has been hung upside down as their enclosure. It’s moments like these that remind me that the theming at Golden Tiki is meant to be immersive, but not necessarily realistic. There is a playful level of abstraction at work as well.

In such a fantasy setting, not unlike a film, cultural appropriation, misattribution, and/or stereotyping is not much of a concern. For example, the bar’s DJ booth is lined with skulls mounted on spikes in reference to the Jungle Headhunter trope.

The hallway leading to the restrooms at the rear of Golden Tiki is lined with bamboo-framed rattan and decorated with artworks and props.

Along with a mixture of weapons and other genuine artifacts are literary references like to the Monkey’s Paw.

Most stunning is the glass vitrine containing only some of the 250 custom shrunken heads created for Golden Tiki by Wyoming-based artist Terry Barr.

The ones in this case pay tribute to many famous figures of classic Polynesian Pop and its contemporary revival. I spot Bob Van Oosting and Leroy Schmaltz of Oceanic Arts which for 65 years was the leading California purveyor of tiki carvings and decor. Then there’s SHAG (aka Josh Agle), an illustrator and painter of mid-century style who has executed many works in the exotica genre, including many commissions for Disney. Speaking of, also sitting in the case is Disney Imagineer Bob Gurr, the last original one, as of 2026, still alive who personally worked with Walt Disney on Disneyland.

I see Vic Bergeron, founder of Trader Vic’s, representing the old guard. And Sven Kirsten and Otto Von Stroheim, tiki historians, as well Holden Westland, founder of Tiki Farm, the world’s largest current supplier of custom tiki mugs, symbolizing the current one.

A few shrunken heads I couldn’t place. But some were quite incongruous, like David Bowie as Gareth from the 1986 fantasy film Labyrinth.

Like any good themed space, the transition from the restrooms hallway back into the main bar area is a well-defined threshold moment of materials and lighting.

The last small Disney touch at Golden Tiki is the presence of Audio-Animatronic birds overhead which reference the Enchanted Tiki Room.

Like the pirate, I can’t tell if these are actual retired figures from the park or credible replicas. But when they came to life from time to time I was charmed.

The Golden Tiki is a perfect example of the twenty-first century tiki bar revival, with its references to classic establishments of Polynesian Pop. Yet also a melange of theme park elements, numerous props and elaborate decor, and an atmosphere augmented by evocative lighting and special effects.

In 2024 the bar celebrated pouring a half million Mai Tai cocktails, in 2025 its tenth anniversary, and shows no sign of slowing down. I’ve visited three times so far, and I am sure to return for an evening of tiki-themed immersion in the future.

Continued in Part 3.

July 21, 2026 /Dave Gottwald

Polynesian Pop Vegas - Part 1: Frankie's Tiki Room.

July 03, 2026 by Dave Gottwald

It’s been five years since I’ve posted about Las Vegas. I last visited during the summer of 2022 for four nights, but that was purely for fun. So when I saw that this year’s University & College Designers Association (UCDA) Education Summit was in town this past May, I jumped at the chance to present. Because I was scheduled for four talks, the conference kept me busy for most of the week. So I decided to narrow my focus and take some deeper dives into the diverse types of theming that Vegas has to offer. One of them being the city’s tiki bars.

Tiki, or as it’s sometimes called by scholars, Polynesian Pop, was one of the themed topic areas of my MFA thesis, and I blogged about it in graduate school way back in 2008. Since then I’ve visited tiki bars all over the world, from Tokyo to Dubai, but by far most of my stops have been in the United States.

Vintage postcard, Aku Aku.

Early Vegas Tiki and the Aku Aku

Sin City’s most famous historical Polynesian restaurant was the Aku Aku at the Stardust Casino and Hotel (1960–1980) that was named for Thor Heyerdahl’s 1957 book Aku-Aku: The Secret of Easter Island. Heyerdahl was a Norwegian zoologist and ethnographer whose stories of South Seas research in The Kon-Tiki Expedition (1948) gave birth to the popular use of the word “tiki.” Several bars and restaurants bearing the Kon Tiki name flourished during the 1950s and 1960s. So it was with Aku Aku.

Vintage postcard, Bali Hai.

South Seas theming had appeared like an oasis in the Nevada desert a bit earlier with the 1957 openings of the Bali Hai, a budget-friendly, drive-up motel, and the Tropicana Hotel and Casino. But Bali Hai lacked a restaurant and the Tropicana was more broadly, well, tropical in orientation, calling itself “The Tiffany of the Strip” with much attention focused on the Folies Bergere Paris showgirl revue.

Vintage advertisement for the recently opened Aku Aku, 1960.

When Aku Aku arrived three years later at the Stardust, it thus billed itself as the Polynesian dining trend so popular in Southern California just now arriving. AT LONG LAST! — in LAS VEGAS!

Eli Hedley working on one of his giant Moai carvings.

Aku Aku (which reportedly originally seated seven hundred guests and was staffed with a twelve cooks and two dozen servers) actually had a direct connection to theming’s family tree. Some of its exterior statuary and decor were provided by Weldon “Eli” Hedley (1903–1981), a man known as the Original Beachcomber. Hedley had performed similar services for other South Seas establishments in Southern California as well as the famous Lake Tahoe Polynesian restaurants Trader Dick’s and Harvey’s.

1969 Aku Aku menu cover featuring Hedley’s Moai as the primary icon. Courtesy Los Angeles Public Library.

He was specifically tapped to carve the fifteen-foot black rock Moai (Easter Island) statuary out front, one of which has survived at Sunset Park in southeast Las Vegas on an island at its duck pond.

One of Eli Hedley’s three retail stands in Adventureland.

According to the Van Eaton Galleries auction catalog for The Story of Disneyland (2015), Walt Disney had personally hired Hedley to add theming to Adventureland and let him have a concession in the park known as Tiki’s Tropical Traders and later The Island Trade Store:

In exchange for carving early Adventureland tikis and offering general scenic decor, Hedley was given the shop space rent free. Walt negotiated the lucrative arrangement personally. The fine tradition of offering rubber snakes, glowing skulls and shrunken heads to young adventurers continues to this day in approximately the same location as [the] 1950s original.

Another of them right next door to the Jungle Cruise.

Prolific Disney parks researcher and writer David Koenig clarifies further in The 55ers: The Pioneers Who Settled Disneyland (2019) that Hedley actually had more than one concession within Adventureland:

Walt hired him to carve a towering tiki for just inside the entrance to Adventureland. Hedley soon found himself operating two spaces inside the Bazaar, one selling tropical trinkets such as tiny tikis, the other selling island-themed jewelry. He later expanded to a third space in the Bazaar.

When asked to provide carving work for the Aku Aku, the story goes that Walt Disney agreed as long as he kept crafting pieces for Adventureland on a farm property across from the park on Katella Avenue and manning his concessions during the day, at night he was free to take on the Stardust contract. From the pages of Liquid Vacation (2013):

Because of the deal with Disney, the sculpting of these monoliths presnted the unique problem of getting the raw materials to a place where Hedley could work on them. The problem was solved when the Stardust commissioned the mining of three thirty-foot blocks of volcanic featherstone from a quarry in northern Nevada and had them delivered to the farm. The finished Moai statues were then shipped to Las Vegas.

So yes, the Aku Aku’s statuary was crafted across the street from Disneyland after hours by a man who helped decorate Adventureland for Walt.

Vintage postcard, Aku Aku.

The restaurant’s bar, known as the Aku Aku Room, served a cocktail menu created by another famed bar owner of Polynesian Pop, Donn Beach (1907–1989), founder of the Don the Beachcomber franchise. Though the Grand Opening was quickly marred by a kitchen fire that destroyed its interior, Beach continued to consult on its rebuild. He once claimed that he was paid for his services by the mobsters who ran the Stardust with two brown paper bags each filled with $50,000 cash (that’s over one million dollars today).

The Aku Aku featured native carvings and some tiki modernesque interior design work by Hawaiian artisan Edward “Mick” Brownlee (1929–2013), perhaps at the recommendation of Beach, with whom he had worked before. Along with strand upon strand of glass Japanese fishing floats arranged like abstract curtains.

1969 Aku Aku menu back page. Courtesy Los Angeles Public Library.

In a declaration common at the time, at the back of the Aku Aku’s menu the establishment boasted how authentic its food and decor was, specifically mentioning Brownlee “of the Honolulu Art Academy, an authority on Melanesian, Micronesian and Polynesian artifacts.” Brownlee, of course, was white, a native of Portland, Oregon.

Aku AKu menu cover from the early sixties.

However “authentic” mid-century Polynesian Pop restaurants and bars claimed to be, the fact is that this design aesthetic was pointedly a middle class, suburban phenomenon completely detached from the actual native cultures of the South Seas. Even when dressed in foreign garb, as with the man in the turban on the menu cover above, the persons depicted were always caucasian.

1969 Aku Aku menu inside cover. Courtesy Los Angeles Public Library.

That is, except for native girls, which often had darker skin to emphasize and eroticize their supposed exotic looks.

Click for the clip on YouTube.

The establishment was iconic enough to be briefly re-created (quite inaccurately) inside The Riviera for a scene in the Martin Scorsese film Casino (1995).

Aku Aku interior entrance, circa 1974. Courtesy UNLV Special Collections and Archives.

The actual interior entrance from the casino floor was a broad railed ramp flanked by two large carved tikis, neither of which were Moai. And although there was a backlit sign above the threshold featuring a single graphic of one, there was no green neon.

The exterior entry from the parking lot was even more outlandish, following the A-frame Polynesian supper club and bar design conventions of the time. Notice Eli Hedley’s large Moai carvings to the left and right.

The one at the parking lot’s edge, however, was massive. More than a couple stories tall. The 1969 photograph on the right is from a 2000s Stardust room key and it really shows the scale of this Moai carving.

Don the Beachcomber, early sixties. Courtesy UNLV Special Collections and Archives.

The popularity of the Aku Aku set off a tiki boom of sorts. In 1962, Don Beach opened a franchise location at the Sahara Hotel and Casino.

The Castaways, late sixties. Courtesy UNLV Special Collections and Archives.

Then a year later the Sans Souci Hotel, which opened in 1955, was re-themed as The Castaways, and remained the longest Polynesian Pop presence on The Strip until 1987 when it was demolished to make way for the Mirage.

Family dinner at the Aku Aku, 1973.

For me the Aku Aku’s most historic and charming aspect is that while dating and pondering engagement, my mother and father dined there on May 4, 1973 with my father’s parents. You can see my grandmother’s drained mai tai glass along with a couple empty daiquiris and devoured baby Hawaiian barbecued spare ribs on the table in the foreground. In seven short years the bar and restaurant would be no more.

1969 Aku Aku menu. Courtesy Los Angeles Public Library.

Here you can see the appetizer or “pu-pu” list they ordered from. Pu pu is indeed a Hawaiian word which means hors dʻoeuvres. I can’t say what they cost when my parents dined there, but based on the 1969 price quoted about, those spareribs [sic] would set you back nearly $27 today.

Where my parents likely sat (window portal highlighted with stroke).

I’ve tried to ascertain where my parents were sitting for their meal, but it appears to be behind one of these rectangular portals. All of the photographs I’ve been able to locate are from the 1960s, and I’m not sure how much remodeling had been done by 1973.

Entrance to Taboo Cove, the Venetian Resort and Casino

Attempts at a Revival

Tiki would not return to the Las Vegas Strip until 2001 with the opening of Taboo Cove at the Venetian Resort and Casino. The first new properly themed tiki bar to open in the United States since the early 1970s, Taboo Cove was designed and decorated by famed Polynesian Pop artist “Tiki Bosko” Hrnjak. Sadly it was shuttered by late 2004 and reopened de-tikified. Taboo Cove’s downfall was due to a poor location deep within a casino with a completely different theme, inadequate promotion, and blaring club music, which drove more authentic fans away.

The bar at Las Vegas Trader Vic’s, 2008.

Next was a Trader Vic’s location in the Miracle Mile shops at Planet Hollywood Resort & Casino. When I visited during the summer of 2008 it had not yet been opened a year. Apart from some large carvings and stylized graphics like this backlit mask behind the bar, the space was basically unthemed and was aimed at the vodka Red Bull crowd rather than actually Polynesian Pop aficionados. In 2009 Vic’s met the same fate as Taboo Cove, as much a victim of the economic downturn as its poor design.

Frankie's Tiki Room

Las Vegas is currently undergoing a tiki bar revival, however, that began with the opening of a new bar closer to downtown Las Vegas roughly six months before Trader Vic’s on the Strip folded, Frankie’s Tiki Room.

If the neon signage outside this white stucco stand-alone building looks like classic Vegas, it’s because it is. Liquid Vacation: 77 Refreshing Tropical Drinks from Frankie’s Tiki Room in Las Vegas (2013; reprinted 2024) notes that Frankie’s Bar and Cocktail Lounge had been around since the 1950s before falling into disrepair and being put up for sale. What inspired the owners of the punk rock Double Down Saloon, P Moss and his partner Chris Andrasfay, to buy it and turn it into a tiki bar was the loss of Taboo Cove. The redesigned Frankie’s opened on December 4, 2008.

The signage was kept and fitted with new graphics, keeping the original moniker in tribute to the good ol’ days of this local watering hole. From Liquid Vacation:

Some swear the bar was named after Sinatra. Not true. Some say it was named after the wife of the original owner. Maybe. But whatever the origin, and despite the fact that most tiki bars have Polynesian-sounding names, rebranding the new concept was never considered and the name Frankie’s was kept out of respect for a historic Las Vegas so many others are too quick to implode.

The marquee above routinely features humorous phrases, like FORGET ROSES BUY HER A MAI TAI or KNOCK BACK A VICIOUS VIRGIN / BE THE FIRST. My favorite is their Christmas greeting: GET A HEAD START ON HOLIDAY DRINKING.

The new lettering is typical of mid-century advertising and jumbles along the baseline as if dancing the conga.

The entrance is a mix of Polynesian Pop iconography and a playful illustration style that suggests tattoo art. The red door looks like a dive bar. This could easily be a biker hangout or a punk rock venue, and that’s part of Frankie’s charming-yet-sleazy exterior vibes. More downtown Las Vegas than the Strip. It feels like a local joint.

Printed along the backlit arch above are the words KAHI MALUHIA LOA I KA HONUA in the same funky typeface as the other FRANKIE’S and GAMBLING signs.

The phrase translates from Hawaiian as “The Most Peaceful Place in the World.”

Every traditional tiki establishment, like the Aku Aku, was typically guarded by statuary at the entrance, and Frankie’s is no different. These sit at either side of the front door. You can also see part of the vivid lowbrow mural to the right which wraps the entire ceiling of the arched entry.

Another more elaborate and unique carving sits off to one side by a bike rack.

Walking in, you find a very, very dark bar. In fact it was difficult to take photos without a flash. But the decor is lush and recalls the classic tiki bars of the past.

Why all this talk of the Aku Aku before getting to Frankie’s? Well, because the interior was designed by none other than the grandson of Eli Hedley, noted carver and decorator “Bamboo Ben” Bassham. Ben has since gone on to design other tiki projects in Vegas, including one currently underway. Here’s a great 2015 interview with him.

Part of the charm of Frankie’s, which I’ve visited several times over the years, is that it splits the difference between themed immersion and what is clearly a typical Las Vegas cocktail lounge which can be found inside any casino.

To wit: Frankie’s is open twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week (a first for tiki). The bar is lined with video poker machines. You can smoke inside. So even though you can take your drink and wander over to one of the thatch-roofed seating areas, replete with Polynesian decor, it’s impossible to forget that you’re in Vegas. Frankie’s looks like it, sounds like it, and even smells like it, despite its tiki makeover.

Indeed there are moments where you can see the Frankie’s of the 1950s in the black ceiling poking through the thatch overhead.

However, they don’t call him Bamboo Ben for nothing. Every wall of Frankie’s is covered with it, along with many carvings and hand-crafted furniture, some of it provided by Tiki Bosko who had done the same for Taboo Cove.

Lowbrow artists were also commissioned to provide many paintings and tiki mug designs. This one above is typical of the lowbrow style and mixes pop icons like the Creature from the Black Lagoon (1954) with Bamboo Ben himself drinking alongside several characters that appear in Beetlejuice (1988).

Frankie’s successfully walks the line between the twenty-four hour video poker and indoor smoking Las Vegas is famous for, along with stirring in punk rock, biker bar, and lowbrow art with traditional tiki bar decor, drinks, and souvenir mugs. It’s a local favorite, has earned an entry in Atlas Obscura, and is a must-see for Polynesian Pop enthusiasts visiting town. I’ve been several times since it opened, and I’m sure I’ll be back.

Continued in Part 2.

July 03, 2026 /Dave Gottwald

Kingdoms of Artifice is Available for Pre-Order.

May 21, 2026 by Dave Gottwald

Finally, my monograph project with Dr. Benjamin George of Utah State University, Kingdoms of Artifice, is now available for pre-order. Well, it’s been available for over a month now, but I’m just getting around to posting about it.

I’ve mentioned him before, but my friend Benjamin is Associate Professor in the Department of Landscape Architecture and Environmental Planning at Utah State University, where he teaches courses in landscape architecture. George's research interests include the impact of technology on design processes, zoo design, online design pedagogy, and landscape history. He is the creator of the award-winning Digital Library of Landscape Architecture History.

To remind, The opening of Disney’s Animal Kingdom (1998) introduced the design principles of the theme park to the display of wildlife. In the decades since, zoo designers the world over have adapted Disney’s approach in theming both the visitor and the animal experience.

With Kingdoms of Artifice we critically examine how post-Disney zoo environments combine entertainment with education and complexify authenticity with theatricality.

Both of us are thrilled with the blurbs provided by the reviewers…

“This volume brilliantly situates the contemporary zoo within the broader world of themed environments, showing how narrative, design, and immersion reshape our encounters with animals and nature. It is both intellectually engaging and highly relevant, offering fresh insights into the cultural work that zoos perform in the twenty-first century.” —Scott A. Lukas, Lake Tahoe Community College, USA and author of Theme Park (2008)

“Engaging and highly accessible in tone, this book is essential reading for anyone serious about understanding the evolution of the modern zoo and Disney’s transformative contribution to it, enriched throughout with insights and reflections from many of the leading figures in zoo and attractions design.” —Bernard Harrison, Former Singapore Zoo Director and Internationally Renowned Zoologist, Indonesia

“I've known Dave Gottwald for the last thirty years and it came as no surprise, having known how unique a perspective he viewed all of life, that he would come up with an idea this fresh, insightful, unique and for me out of left-field. I know nothing about the subject matter, and thus, was just amazed with not only the originality of this concept but how extraordinarily well it was researched. I always tell people they have adult jobs because all I do is draw Mickey Mouse all day and this is a perfect example – an adult with an extraordinarily original concept that I never would've thought of. Enjoy!” ―George Scribner, Artist and Animator, Walt Disney Imagineering, Panama, and Director of Walt Disney Animation Studios’ Oliver & Company (1988)

The ebook PDF and hardcover are now available for pre-order from Bloomsbury Academic, Studies in Disney and Culture, and will be released September 3 and October 1, 2026, respectively. I’m quite pleased with this date because it’s the beginning of Disney’s fiscal year. Both the Magic Kingdom (1971) and EPCOT Center (1982) opened on October the first.

It’s pretty funny that Benjamin first met me because of an Amazon review I wrote. And now we have our very own page. We’ve also started a zoo and theming research blog so be sure to check it out.

May 21, 2026 /Dave Gottwald
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