But that hasn't made the tourist magnet immune from an overall decline in ticket sales blamed on the depressed economy.
So directors haunted by the threat to the PCC's payroll decided to get creative.
Now, when the October moon rises over the PCC's palm trees and trademark lagoon, the park transforms into an expansive spook alley that has become wildly popular, especially with the locals.
The PCC has a symbiotic relationship with the adjacent BYU-Hawaii: Some 600 students work at the PCC as part of a work/scholarship program that pays for their education.
In return, the PCC has a perpetual workforce of performers and support staff.
When traffic at the gate slows, "The money is still going out (in wages) even if people aren't coming in the front door," said PCC President and CEO Von D. Orgill. "What were we going to do, tell students 'Sorry, we can't fund your scholarship anymore?' So with a down economy, we had to figure out ways to keep things going."