Spear Fishing

There’s nothing there in the dark that isn’t there in the light…except for fear. But when you are 100 yards out at sea, diving in 30 foot deep water and all you have for protection is a three-pronged spear, an underwater flashlight, and your ability to swim, there’s a lot of fear. At least there is for me.

A friend and I went spear fishing several weeks ago. Apparently the swift darting reef fish fall asleep at night or at least slow down and so the optimal and perhaps only time to nab one with a spear propelled by an enormous rubber band is after dark.

So into the dark Pacific Ocean we went. The beam from the flashlight looked like a long fat light saber, cutting through the black water. Other than in the direct path of the beam’s glow it was anyone’s guess – sharks, barracuda, eels? I just couldn’t let my mind wander.  "Swim and don’t think" was my mantra. You see, I’ve got a problem with that – my imagination. For example, I was never good at baseball because every time I got up to bat, I imagined the zit-faced pitcher hurling an out-of-control, rock-hard baseball with his newly muscled pubescent arm directly at my jaw. I could see (and hear) in my mind and in vivid detail, the cracking of bone, the spitting out of bloody teeth, the screaming of women, and the little bubble of blood that would form when I exhaled through my nose. So, I usually backed out of the batter’s box as the pitch was delivered, obviously making  for a less effective swing and a short lived baseball career.   

So anyway, that’s how my mind works which should help you appreciate why swimming in tropical, shark and eel infested water’s at night could cause some imagination induced trauma for me.

Fortunately, we survived the night. My friend speared a small zebra-looking fish which we rushed up on shore (after a short detour through a shallow coral reef) before the blood attracted any silent predators. Now that I think about it, that’s what makes the water scarier than say hiking for me. If I’m hiking and run into a bear, for example, I imagine there will be some sort of roar or growl as a sort of mark-set-go to start the race between me and my hiking partner (i.e., you don’t have to outrun the bear just your friend) and at least I’ll have a chance – depending I suppose on the foot speed of my friend. But in the water, there’s no growl, roar, pounding of clawed feet over dirt and rocks, just bam, and your arm’s gone and you’re leaving a trail of blood in the  bay like some leaking oil tanker and as a consolation, if you survive and happen to become a professional surfer, they might make a movie about you.

Oh and I forgot to mention. I was nursing an ear infection that night as well and each time I dove down, chasing after some fish, the pressure felt like someone was pushing a twelve-inch needle into my ear canal. Yeah, it was awesome.

So, my spear fishing career, like my baseball and rock climbing (fifty foot fall/three nights in the hospital and one fully conscious catheter insertion) careers was short and painful, both psychologically and physically.

My new personal handbook for fishing has officially been amended to require the following:

(1) full use of visual and auditory senses (olfactory recommended but not mandatory)

(2) an environment where I have a locomotive advantage (i.e., solid ground – these feet weren’t made for flipp’n)

(3) either my father or a paid professional to deal with any fish that I should happen to catch, including but not limited to hook/spear removal; gutting; head, bone and skin removal; and packaging for transportation

I think I’m still okay with snorkeling – catching fish on film in relatively shallow waters during broad day light has not triggered any imaginary trauma, yet.  

Survey Says

So, my fashion design didn't make it in to the voting round of fifteen. But, I did get an honorable mention. Here is what the email said:


"Thank you for entering our Dare to Design contest! While your design did not make it to the final 15, it DID receive an Honorable Mention from our design team. Please accept this $15 gift card from us for your design. Thank you again!"


Do you think everyone who entered got an honorable mention just to try and make them feel good? If you entered this contest or have in the past and received an identical email, let me know -- especially if you know you're design was really bad and did not deserve an honorable mention, because I'm kind of thinking that's what happened to me.


Anyway, enough of that silliness. Recently I have built a built-in bookcase/shelf set up and am halfway through a toddler bed. Photos to come sometime soon.

Design for Shabby Apple (plus flexing, spitting, and other manly stuff)

Before you start reading this post, I require that you raise your arm and make a solemn pledge to read the entire thing, all the way through, right to the end. If you’re not willing to commit to that, you’re perusing without permission and will not be authorized to use anything found herein to form an opinion about me. Agreed? Okay, you may proceed.  

Okay, so as both of the loyal readers of this blog already know, I am working for two years in a quasi-governmental job in American Samoa, which is really just code for super laid back lots of free time.  

The other day when checking my email for the hundredth time, I see there’s something from this women’s online clothing store called Shabby Apple. Why am I on the email list for an online women’s clothing store? Well, my sister and sister-in-law are gaga about this Shabby Apple place and so being the awesome brother I am I once got them some birthday presents from there, or maybe it was just a gift certificate, I can’t remember, anyway, that’s how I got on the email list.

So anyway, from time to time Shabby Apple has this contest where all you have to do is design some clothes and then post it on your blog and if you’re in the top 15 everyone votes and the winner gets free money (that phrase “free money” has always seemed contradictory to me, but anyway, you know what I mean).

So, here I am, in American Samoa, checking my email and it occurs to me, I like free money and I’ve seen clothes before so why not give it a try. How hard could it be right? So I pulled a sheet of paper out from the printer, grabbed a pen and fifteen minutes and three email checks later, voila. I’m a fashion designer. Well, we’ll see. Anyway, of course I don’t have any colored pencils or pens or whatever to color my design so I had to use the super awesome free paint program on my computer. Not the best, but whatever, it’ll do.

Anyway, now stay with me here fell’as and keep reading, it gets more manly down below, I promise.  Here in Samoa the guys wear these skirt things called ie faitaga and I’ll admit, I’ve got one and I like wearing it. This is manly stuff, trust me. It’s like a South Pacific kilt – rugby players wear them, football players wear them, guys who live in a place call Massacre Bay wear them. Trust me, manly.

So anyway, I’m thinking, maybe the ladies would like to wear these as well. It’s basically a wrap around skirt with pockets, and there’s this belt kind of thing that threads through to keep it up. Pretty simple, pretty easy, pretty nice. No pleats so they have a flattening effect as well although with my ripped manly six-pack abs that’s not really an issue for me. On my design I tapered it so it will be a little more figure flattering for the ladies (the one I wear kind of makes me look stocky – or maybe that’s just my rock hard muscular legs, hard to know really). I also threw a strip around the bottom with a traditional Maori pattern. Could do floral pattern instead. Anyway, the top, which I understand is called a blouse, although I’m really too manly to have every had a conversion that actually required me to use the term “blouse,” has kind of a gathered fabric thing that looks pretty nice – I’m sure less manly men would know the proper fashion term for that, but whatever, I was probably busy lifting something really heavy when everyone else was talking about that.

Bright colors – I chose blue and yellow but it should be pretty easy to mix that up – red, orange, whatever as long as it has a bright tropical feel. Maybe even a floral print, although I'm kind of O.D'd on that down here right now (and it was too hard to draw). Another idea is grey or navy with pinstripes for the skirt if you really wanted to dress it up, but then you kind of lose the tropical feel. Now that I think of it, maybe the pinstripes with a white top. Hum. Oh well, I'm done thinking about that now -- got to go back to thinking about flexing my muscles for awhile. Oh, and definitely sandals (I haven’t worn shoes, except to church, in months).

So, right, hopefully the ladies at Shabby Apple will like this. If they do, anyone who made fun of this post will have to vote for me so I can get my free money which I will not be sharing with you haters.

If you have any questions about the design, feel free to leave a comment, but I probably won’t respond because most likely I’ll be out hunting wild boar with my bare hands or buying some power tools or something.

Peace out.

P.S. I am supposed to link to Shabby Apple Dresses, so here’s the link. Go there and buy all of their super awesome modest dresses. 

Neighboring Island (Aunu'u)

Last Saturday we took the boat to the neighboring island of Aunu'u. The swells were large and the boat was small, but we all survived. Apparently the beach on Aunu'u was pretty ugly after the tsunami in 2009, but it has cleaned up nicely. As you can see, the kids had a splashing good time.

 

Apparently Daniel saw a fish. 

After, we went back to the main island and hiked up to the World War II cannons at Breaker Point.

Photo from Night Hike to Nu'uuli Falls

My friend was nice enough to send me some photos from our early adventures here on the island. Here is a photo that goes with this post. It was our night hike up to Nu'uuli falls: 

Their must be some weird camera trick or perspective problem or something that is making my flexed arm look so small. 

Honking

The honk, in American Samoa, does not mean the same thing as the honk in the States. Here, when someone honks it can mean (i) I'll wait for you to merge into traffic, (ii) thank you for letting me merge into traffic, (iii) I recognize you and am acknowledging that fact in a friendly way, (iv) I see you on your bicycle and do not intend to run you over, (v) thank you in general, (vi) you're welcome in general, (vii) other friendly acknowledgments/greetings. I'm explaining this because it can be confusing at first. However, there is a special technique for doing the Samoan honk of kindness and friendship -- as I call it. It is a light tap, a quick and soft beep beep or sometimes just one quick beep. If done properly it actually does sound friendly. For some reason I can't do it. When I try, it comes out as more of an angry blare no matter how lightly and quickly I tap. I think I've upset a few people I was actually trying to thank. I'll have to spend some time alone in the garage practicing before I try again. In the meantime, people are also into giving the wave to say thank you to fellow drivers. I've already got that one down.