First Impressions: My Apartment and the Beach

In January, 1993, I bought a brand new 1992 S-10 Chevrolet Pickup from the Chevrolet place in Camilla.  It was an odd light-greenish color, and, maybe that’s why it was still on the lot, and why I got such a good price on it.  The color was named “aqua.” I think it was mis-named, for I have now seen “aqua.”  My truck was turquoise.  The waters off American Samoa are aqua.  The color of my truck is not breathtaking.  The color of the waters off American Samoa is breathtaking.   The sound of the surf is a solid roar from my apartment. 

 

I am delighted with my apartment.  It is a spacious 2BR/1BA, with a queen sized bed, firm like I like it and just like the one I left at home, in the large bedroom and a twin sized bed in the smaller.  The small kitchen has ample counter and cabinet space.  The living room is spacious as well.  Directly out the back of my apartment is a path through the woods leading in a direction toward the roaring surf.  On my first full day in my apartment I, of course, had to explore any path through woods leading to the roar of a surf.  I was not disappointed.

The path is about 50 yards, and then there’s another 100 yards or so before you can put your feet in the ocean.  American Samoa is a volcanic island, so I was not surprised to find volcanic rocks lining the shore.  But there is sand, as well.  The swells were 10+ feet high, thus the roar of the crashing waves.  Impressive as that was, the color was fantastic.  Imagine a wall of water, 10+ feet high, the color of a coke bottle tinted a bright blue, transparent, curling into a mighty wave. Now, that’s “aqua.”  Moreover, the volcanic rocks on the shore provide places where the waves, upon crashing into them, send up fantastic geysers of spray.

Alas, my great good fortune of having discovered this marvelous resource was short-lived.  On my second day, I revisited the path and this time, after I emerged from the woods, I met a fellow who lives in a house at the edge of the woods.  I asked him if he minded if I use the path for access to the beach and he informed me it was private property; that I needed to go the “the other side” to get there.  So, I retraced my steps and made my way through the apartment complex to a road that led to “the other side.”  It was a nice and healthful walk, and I soon found myself at the fantastic beach, gazing again upon the magnificent waves and their dramatic crashes into the shore.  This time, a fellow emerged from a nearby house and politely informed me that that particular section of beach is private property.  We had a very congenial conversation as to where the property line was, and I left, thanking him for that most helpful information.  As it stands right now, then, I’ve got to figure another way to get there.  I mean, like, it’s right out my back door.