Airport Beach with Waves!

Sara and I took the opportunity to walk out to Airport Beach. It's a short hike from our house in Fogagogo/Freddy's Beach. Our house is just off the end of the fence line for the runway for the Pago airport. Our destination was a beach that is hemmed in by the airport's fence and to reach it you need to walk along the narrow strip of land between the barbwire tipped fence and the ocean. As we walked out to the start of the trail, we were escorted to the trail by Brownie, our adopted dog. He did a pretty effective job of keeping the mangier local dogs from coming anywhere near us, looks like Brownie's earning his keep.

The first part of the trail is a covered in trash. The Samoans have a different tolerance for litter and garbage. It's sad to see people throw every piece of trash on the ground, especially, since the island is such a naturally beautiful place. The Samoans haven't quite adapted to the consumerist culture their colonial overlords have thrust on them. They don't have enough trash service and trashcans and use it as an excuse to toss their trash as they finish with it. The smaller and more remote villages aren't plagued with this problem, but near the heart of the wannabe suburbs of the Tafuna Plain, it's pretty egregious. The hike out contains plenty reminders of the local's convenience-over-aesthetic-beauty set of priorities.

The walk out is pretty spectacular. The lava cliffs are cool on their own. But today the coast was getting smashed with some large waves. It made the cliffs that line the hike out come alive as the waves slammed the cliffs sending sea spray flying as the waves beat themselves to their end into the island. Sara and I were sprayed several times and had some great up close views of how rugged and wild the South Pacific can be.

The coast on the way out to Airport Beach is riddled with old lava tubes called avas. They really course across the entire island, but they rarely are seen except when excavating or at their ends, such as here, where they end into the sea. The result of all these tubes are some spans, caves, bridges and blowholes that riddle the cliffs and make them come alive when the waves pound is, as they were yesterday.

Here is a wide blowhole, that would surge out a blast of salt and mist every time a large wave struck it's opening. The gust of air it generated was forceful enough to blow my hat off, when I was up close to it. Thankfully, I was wearing my neck strap so the hat continues to protect me from the equatorial sun.

I also managed to find a buoy for a fishing net from Tahiti (it said on the outside) that had washed up on the cliffs. This is one piece of detritus that's coming home with me to decorate our little backyard.

There were also some spots where the waves would come crashing over the cliffs. There was no shortage of dramatic moments on the way out to the beach. For a short hike, it held a ton of interest and some great moments. On the way out, I recall thinking that the waves our little shore was getting pounded with may have been building up force and inertia all the way from Antarctica's shore, since there's not any land mass between us and there heading south.

Eventually, to reach the reef protected lagoon that is Airport Beach, our path cut us through some tall brush. With no terrestrial poisonous snakes on the island, cutting through vegetation like this is not very perilous, the biggest annoyance is the spider webs that will build up if the path does not see much use. The best approach is usually to walk with your hand in front of your face. Thereby letting it take all the webs instead of your nose.

There's not much legacy left from the US Navy's half century of staffing Tutuila. These World War II pillboxes are some of the remnants of that time. They dot the coast throughout the island, though I don't believe they saw any action during the war in the Pacific. They stand today as a reminder of one of the eras that this little community in the middle of nowhere has experienced.

The beach was pretty great yesterday. The waves that were battering the cliffs on our walk out, were breaking themselves on the shallow reef that was a long way off shore from Airport Beach. From the beach we could see waves that looked to be 20 or 30 foot rollers crash down upon themselves while we were floating in a salty, warm-water bath, with only the slightest hint of waves lapping up against the coral sand. Pretty idyllic.

Airport beach is known for its snorkeling, we didn't bring our gear, but the swimming was plenty for us. One of our neighbors bought a Hawaiian sling for spearfishing, he was cruising the reef looking for his first catch. The fish ended up winning the day and he came back from his first day without a catch.

Looks like he'll need to content himself with some beach hangouts instead. Just try not to be blinded by my pasty, mainland complexion.

Sara and I continued to build our collection of seashells and ocean treasures, a few of the almost good enough pieces found another life as a little coral forest next to our towels as were dried off.

On our way back to the house, we walked along the graded land directly underneath the airport's fence. Not as exciting, but a quicker route. Once we reached the road we encountered a car full of Samoans on their way out from a wedding. They stopped the car, rolled down their windows and offered us lollipops. Not a bad way to end our little trip to spot that's a 40 minute walk from our backdoor.