As soon as she figured out what I was doing, Diana Richardson insisted that I tell readers how awful this place is.
She meant the islands of Ofu and Olosega, two green spikes of volcanic land covered with palms and rain forest, circled by pure white-sand beaches, lava necklaces and transparent ocean–an outstanding pair amidst the seven islands that compose American Samoa.
Diana pressed the point: “I talked to somebody at the tourism office and she said, `Why do you want to go to Ofu? There’s nothing there.’ She was right. There aren’t any resorts, no music, no golf courses, no native dancing girls . . . “
Of course, Diana wanted the place to herself. Please, she begged, don’t encourage more travelers to explore the vividly colored coral reefs, skim the bright blue surf, or wander through the little villages with their pastel-tinted houses and gentle people.
Finally, I gave in and promised her I’d tell folks to avoid American Samoa. So, don’t go. But there are ways . . .
Diana lives on the Hawaiian island of Kauai, and she could hop a six-hour flight from Honolulu to Pago Pago, the big city on the island of Tutuila, with no problem. From there, it’s a 60-mile, 30-minute flight to Ofu. Those of us not so much in the neighborhood might take a direct flight from Los Angeles to Apia in independent Samoa (formerly Western Samoa and a separate country) and then board a short flight to Pago Pago. It requires some time (about 10 hours for the main leg) and effort (a lot of sitting around waiting for connections) and money ($1,500 and up), yet it can be done.
The federally operated sections of Ofu/Olosega might well be the highlights of American Samoa National Park, especially for beach lovers, but they aren’t all of it. I walked the sandy road from the tiny, minimalist Va’oto Lodge, and the only indication that the southern shore beach was a unit of the U.S. government were little metal signs on the telephone poles marking the property line: “U.S. Boundary NPS.”
This is the only national park not at least partially owned by the Department of the Interior. The land in the territory of American Samoa belongs to the people in perpetuity, handed down from family to family. The Interior Department signed a 50-year lease in 1993.
During my walk, I met Diana Richardson and her friend from Oahu, Kirk Miyake. They offered a ride in the bed of a battered gray pickup truck borrowed from Va’oto Lodge, where they were staying.
“Isn’t this something? Isn’t this magnificent?” Diana said when we paused at an inlet and took in the ocean panorama–a crescent of deep green, a border of sandy beige and a deep blue infinity. “Don’t tell anyone,” she added.
Diana was slim and handsome, bearing a slight resemblance to the Katharine Hepburn of the 1950s. Her linen slacks and gauzy top were perfect for the tropical heat. I thought she might be kidding about keeping American Samoa our little secret. But maybe not.
She told me she first learned about American Samoa while reading a book on the national parks. Ofu sounded like a perfectly isolated island where she could escape Kauai for awhile, an island she considers overrun. “We had a million visitors last year. Imagine–on an island of 60,000 residents!”
Kirk and Diana took me over the bridge to Olosega and on to the end of the road, just beyond Olosega, the town. They planned to hike the jagged, coral-strewn path to Maga Point. I said I would make my way back to Ofu and V’aoto Lodge, about 4 miles from there. “You won’t have to walk all the way,” Diana assured me. “The people are very friendly, and anyone driving along the road will stop and offer a ride.”
I wandered through the town, admiring the neat if sparsely planted yards and carefully painted houses. At a tiny grocery I bought a bottle of water for 50 cents and continued walking toward the bridge that connects the islands. It unobtrusively links two beautiful clumps of pointed peaks covered with vegetation.
On the other side of the bridge, a pack of four small dogs took me on–yapping, lunging at my ankles, acting as fierce as they could. I stopped and confronted them, murmured a few words, and they backed off. Of course, as soon as I resumed walking, they figured the merry chase was on again. That lasted for half an hour, until the dogs decided to straggle home.
No vehicles in sight. I walked some more, drinking water and taking in the pristine Polynesian vistas. A pickup truck approached and proceeded across the bridge and into the village, provoking more loud barks.
I kept on moving in the heat of the day, and soon I was out of water with 2 more miles to go. The same pickup truck I had seen a half hour before now approached me from the rear. It didn’t stop.
I walked into the main room of Va’oto Lodge–a combination lounging and dining area with well-worn furniture–and drank glass after glass of water from a jug placed on a table near the kitchen. After awhile, Kirk and Diana returned from their hike and we sat around chatting with Madeline–a visitor from Amsterdam and the only other guest–and Marjorie Malae, who runs the lodge with her husband, Tito.
“Those dogs are very bad,” Madeline said after I described my recent adventure. “The ones by the bridge have a ball chasing people.” That led to a discussion of the even less domesticated wildlife on American Samoa. The most notable creatures are two types of flying fox–or bat–one of which is unique to Samoa, but very rare.
After a lull in the conversation, Diana piped up: “You’re in the heart of the action right now. This is it. And once we leave . . . I hope you’re going to tell people that if they’re going to come here for a hot time, they’ve picked the wrong spot. “
No, the hot times–at least relatively speaking–might be found on the island of Tutuila, site of bustling Pago Pago (pronounced Pango Pango) and several other villages, home to most of American Samoa’s 60,000 residents. The main national park area there is a wooded and rocky stretch of land above a ridge overlooking Pago Pago Harbor with cliffs that plunge straight into the sea.
I found park headquarters in a strip mall where Pago Pago’s downtown ends and the main road begins to lead out to a section on the harbor’s north side dominated by two huge, stinking tuna canneries. Thousands of workers put up Starkist or Chicken of the Sea, and then, during breaks, mingle alongside the highway.
Past the canneries and up onto the jagged cliffs, the scenery improves considerably, as the residential areas spread out and wild landscape appears. Just beyond the village of Afono, without much other fanfare, a brown National Park Service sign announces, “Pako o Amerika Samoa Laufanua Fa’assoina.” A long-time resident said that means American Samoa Park, an area of cultivated, or preserved, land. On Tutuila, the park extends over 3,733 acres of land and water (including a 200-foot offshore border). Ofu’s park is 423 acres, and the park area in Ta’u covers 4,941 acres. Those figures include both land and water. The other islands of American Samoa–which lack park land and are reachable only by boat–include ‘Aunu’u, off the eastern tip of Tutuila, coral-encrusted Rose Atoll–a wildlife refuge–and Swains Island.
On Tutuila, from an overlook with a simple shelter, or fale, I watched two flying foxes soar from tree to tree until they found one that made a suitable stopping point. I could tell those bats weren’t birds only because I scoped them with binoculars. Their perch was so high up on the slopes, they might have been crows. Soon they rendered themselves distinctly bat-like, swinging upside down from their branch, blowing in the wind kicked up by an approaching storm.
I turned and saw a nearly pitch-black sky descending like a curtain while the coconut palms and that verdant blanket of ferns, broadleaf evergreens and grasses rippled with the breeze. In a few minutes, the curtain dropped on the park, and the rain came down as if someone had turned on a million fire hoses. All the while, I was the only visitor. The few vehicles that passed by the overlook never stopped. I retreated to the car and drove back into town.
National Park of American Samoa has not been set aside for recreationists or sightseers so much as to protect its coral reefs, giant clams, sea turtles, fisheries, plant life, mammals, reptiles and birds.
“We haven’t matured to the stage where this park would meet your expectations for the kinds of amenities that a national park back in the States would,” said Peter Craig, the staff biologist. “People who come here thinking they’re going to have a terrific national park experience would find out they’re going to have to do most stuff on their own. The whole territory is not geared for tourism.”
The island of Tutuila, about 20 miles long and 5 miles wide at its widest point, seems to be geared more toward canning tuna and serving as a major Polynesian port. At one section of the Pago Pago Harbor, containers soar higher than most of the downtown buildings. Near the airport, the Army Reserve Training Center serves as a reminder that this part of Samoa became a U.S. territory partly because of its strategic position in the South Pacific.
In some ways, Tutuila, largest of the seven islands, looks like America. Traffic leans heavily toward pickup trucks and SUVs. Most of the newer buildings are plain and functional. The population is growing–60,000 people now but expanding at an annual rate of nearly 4 percent. Efforts to preserve a little land as pristine beach, coral reef and rain forest take on a sense of urgency.
“Some people in Congress had the foresight to see that this–being part of the U.S.–has unique cultural and natural resources,” biologist Craig said. Because the park is spread over parts of three islands, each one has its own characteristics. Tutuila’s combines rugged peaks and rain forest with glimpses of village life and a view down on the congestion of Pago Pago. “Ta’u is the youngest of our islands,” Craig said, “more of a volcanic dome that’s all vegetated. It’s much more remote and doesn’t have much in the way of amenities for tourists. It’s just a gorgeous place. Ofu’s most spectacular point is that coastal lagoon. You can walk off the sandy beach right into a protected water area and enjoy looking at the colorful coral reef fish or the corals themselves.”
When I stood on the Ofu beach with Diana and Kirk, I asked them to point out the best place to snorkel. Diana smiled and spread her arms, as if to say “anywhere.”
The three major islands are served by Samoan Air. It shuttles people between them on a daily schedule–early morning departure from Pago Pago and late afternoon return.
On my day trip to Ofu with a stop in Ta’u, the passengers were mostly native Samoans, big people who overflowed the tiny seats and had to duck through doorways. The sturdy 18-passenger Twin Otter planes could handle the load with ease. At my Tutuila bed-and-breakfast, Ta’alolo Lodge & Golf Resort, two of my fellow guests said they were making a television documentary about Samoa as a source of beefy players for the NFL.
Not all Samoans are gigantic, of course. I saw people of all sizes going in and out of the air strip shack on Ofu, or, on Tutuila, riding the pickup-truck buses called ‘aiga. The buses gather at the expansive apron of a shopping mall, across from the police station. All day, the buses compete in a beauty contest of old sheet metal painted bright colors and festooned with signs, banners, decals and whimsical nameplates like the Jeepneys of the Philippines.
Craig had been correct. This wasn’t the carefree idyll some outsiders might imagine. Pago Pago would appear to be in the throes of cheerful urban chaos, but there are rules–mostly unwritten–that cover almost all aspects of human behavior.
Visitors are warned not to visit small villages on a Sunday–too disruptive. Dress modestly–even when swimming if the beach is near a village. Remove shoes when entering a fale. Ask permission before swimming at a village beach. Almost anyone will do, because it’s felt that the beach belongs to the village as a whole. Also get permission before taking someone’s picture or climbing a mountain close to a settlement. The list goes on.
At the western end of the national park on Tutuila, near the village of Fagasa, I took photographs of the bay that laps against the park’s beach and the surrounding green cliffs. A group of girls came strolling toward me on the main road. I didn’t need to ask their permission, because when they saw the camera, they immediately arranged themselves into a jaunty pose. As they walked on, laughing and chatting with a friendly dog at their heels, I felt, for the moment, this was paradise enough.
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E-mail Robert Cross: bcross@tribune.com
A guide to American Samoa
Established as a national park: Sept. 9, 1993 (authorized Oct. 31, 1988).
Location: the South Pacific, 1,800 miles northeast of New Zealand.
Area: 9,097 acres (all non-federal).
Visitors: 1,938 in 2002.
Flora and fauna: Old World (Asian/African) rain forest includes many species of trees, vines, lichens, ferns and air plants. Coral reefs support 900 species of fish. Birds include sea birds, shore birds, water birds, forest birds. Fruit bats (flying foxes) are the only native mammals.
Entrance fee: none.
Getting there
Los Angeles and Honolulu are the getaway cities from the States. Hawaiian Airlines flies direct from Honolulu to Pago Pago at least twice a week. Air New Zealand goes non-stop from L.A. to Apia in Samoa, from which you connect to Pago Pago on Polynesian Airlines or Samoa Air. Schedules change, as do the fares. Figure on spending at least $1,500 from Los Angeles A travel agent with South Pacific experience should be able to untie the knots. I used a California agency, Escapes Unlimited, 714-508-8474; www.escapesltd.com.
Getting around
On the main island of Tutuila, a rental car proved useful. The ‘aiga buses–modified pickup trucks with seats–roam the island and charge from 25 cents to $1.75, depending on the distance traveled (average ride: half a buck). This is a U.S. territory, and everyone uses U.S. currency. Tutuila taxis charge about $1 a mile. Samoa Air does the hopping to the islands of Ofu/Olosega and Ta’u, about 60 miles east of Tutuila. Round-trip fares are in the $100 range. Ta’u has rental cars. But once on those sparsely populated dots of volcanic rock, Ofu/Olosega, visitors walk or depend on the kindness of residents with wheels, most of whom stop and offer hikers a ride.
Speaking of hiking, the only usable trail is in Tutuila and covers a 2-mile stretch from Fagasa Pass to the middle of the island’s park area.
Lodging and dining
Not only does the park lack camp sites, camping is forbidden. A few families on the islands have volunteered for a home-stay program, which is a good opportunity for visitors to learn more about Samoan ways. Arrangements may be made through park headquarters in Pago Pago (see Information, below).
Otherwise, hotels, bed-and-breakfasts, inns and lodges are sprinkled over Tutuila Island. The Rainmaker Hotel is big and in places rather dilapidated. Nearby Sadie Thompson Inn is clean and modern in a motel-like way. Neither one evokes the steamy atmosphere of Somerset Maugham’s “Rain” as well as he did. The Office of Tourism can point out lodging possibilities: 011-684-633-1091. Its Web site is full of listings, data and links: www.amsamoa.com.
On the outer islands, known collectively as the Manu’a Islands, lodging is limited. Ta’u has two motels with a total of 16 rooms. Most visitors will want to enjoy the long pristine beaches of Ofu/Olosega (two islands connected by a short bridge). Their choices for overnight stays are both on Ofu: the four-room Asaga Inn near the bridge (meals served on request) and Va’oto Lodge–10 rooms in five duplex cottages–near the island’s airstrip. Va’oto also serves meals. Asaga: 011-684-655-1306; fax 011-684-655-1309. Vaoto: 011-684-655-1120; e-mail vaoto@hotmail.com.
The big island, Tutuila, dominates the dining scene, where restaurants serve up anything from native pork or chicken, bananas, taro and breadfruit to pizza and nouvelle cuisine. The kitchen at the country club in Ill’ili broils a decent steak. At Jeffrey’s in Tafuna, the atmosphere was straight out of shopping mall American suburbia, yet the mahi-mahi came carefully prepared and beautifully presented. Tisa’s Barefoot Bar on Alega Beach serves organic vegetarian dishes and seafood, as well as loud music and an uninhibited party atmosphere.
Yes, Tutuila also boasts a McDonald’s and a KFC.
Accessibility
The visitor center in Pago Pago’s Pago Plaza is wheelchair accessible, as are the scenic overlook at Amalau Valley and the 1/4-mile gravel path toward the Pola–all on Tutuila.
Information
Superintendent, National Park of American Samoa, Pago Pago, AS 96799. 011-684-633-7082; fax 011-684-633-7085; e-mail NPSA-Administration@nps.gov; www.nps.gov/npsa.
TUTUILA’S SIGHTS
1. Fagasa Bay
With rocky cliffs on one side, sloping rain forest on the other and a charming village in the middle, the national park gets off to a lovely start.
2. Mt. ‘Alava
If you can make it up the virtually non-existent trail, the vistas from here are worth the struggle.
3. Pola Island
After a short stroll from another charming village, Vatia, a path leads out to Viava Strait, a National Natural Landmark, and a close view of a green and lofty clump of land.
4. Afono Pass
More great views, including Pago Pago Harbor and Rainmaker Mountain–another National Natural Landmark.
BEST OF OFU AND OLOSEGA
5. The beach on Ofu Island
Empty sand beach and clear waters fulfill a paradise-seeker’s dream. Offshore, the reefs attract some 300 species of fish and are made up of some 150 species of coral. At To’aga Site, just behind the beach, archeologists have unearthed a wealth of artifacts including some pottery that dates as far back as 1000 B.C.
BEST OF TA’U
6. Mt. Lata
At 3,170 feet, this is the highest point in American Samoa.
7. Saua Site
According to legend, the god Tagaloa created the first humans here and sent them out to settle all of Polynesia. At the opposite (western) end of the island, in Luma, Margaret Mead researched and wrote “Coming of Age in Samoa.”
