It's an unlikely place for paradise: a slab of asphalt downhill from a water treatment plant and an oil refinery, with loud jets flying overhead. But for the couple hundred people in motor homes parked here, it is paradise--or almost. Although Dockweiler Beach lies under the departure path of Los Angeles International Airport, the RV sites are sometimes booked months in advance. The vacationers tend to be from southern California--inland dwellers escaping the heat, families in search of the last affordable beach vacation, retired people, friends who gather here annually, and people from elsewhere, such as the man who was enjoying a week-long rest in the midst of a permanent move from Alaska to San Diego.

So what draws them here? In a word, the beach, the glorious beach. Just down from the RV park, once you cross a paved two-lane bike path, there's nothing but sand and sunshine, fresh, cool ocean breezes, and the reassuring sound of surf all day and night. Despite the frequent roar of low-flying airliners, almost all the people I spoke with on this particular day in August described the place as "relaxing"--unless it was a kid talking, and then it was "fun."

"When you live in a hectic world, it's kind of nice to come out where it's relaxing and peaceful," said Sharon Lofgran as she and her husband, Jim, sat on lawn chairs outside their RV. "And this beach is pretty private. We absolutely love the beach. We also go to Newport Beach, Huntington Beach, Carlsbad, San Diego, but this is probably one of our favorite places. We have all the conveniences of home . . . the only thing that's missing is a Jacuzzi!"

Dockweiler is less crowded than some southern California beaches, partly because it's between two major beach cities, Playa del Rey and Manhattan Beach. Its RV park, unlike many others, has hookups--another definite plus. It's a good place to surf, boogie board, ride bicycles, play Frisbee, but most important, to just hang out and spend some quality time with loved ones.

Bobbie Anderson had come from Redlands, halfway between Los Angeles and Palm Springs, to stay with her grandchildren for the maximum time allowed at the park, 21 days. The parents join them on weekends and some week nights after work, as do friends from home. "This is wonderful for the kids," Anderson said. "We have so much fun and have had so many people out here. At one time we had 13 rigs at the beach, all from Redlands. It's been a family tradition for 40 years."

What is it about the RV experience that makes it different from being at home? "I think the family talks more. When they're out like this, they tell us things that maybe we don't want to know!" she replied with a laugh. "You know, when you're home you're busy, you're watching TV, you're doing this and that, going here and there. Here it's more of a family thing--it's smaller, so you're together."

Dockweiler is not quite paradise for them, however, for a couple of reasons unrelated to the airplane noise. Their favorite beach to camp at is San Elijo State Beach, just north of San Diego, mainly because there is a store on the premises so that they don't need to drive anywhere for small necessities. Also, there they don't have speeding bicyclists.

"You have to have somewhere to walk," Anderson explained. "The bike path is too dangerous to walk on. Cyclists ride down here really fast and yell at us--'Get off the bike path!'" It was a complaint I heard from others in the park. One little girl about four or five years old was crying on the bike path because she was yelled at by a cyclist.

And what about the airplane noise, does it bother them? "Actually, we love it!" Anderson answered. Her granddaughter, Carley, chimed in, "We make a game of it. We all ask each other, ‘What country is that one going to, or that one?' It's fun."

More than anything else, what I picked up here at Dockweiler RV park is an overwhelming sense of community. It feels like a small town, in all the best ways.

"They're all nice people around here," said Delia Muñoz. "Everyone says hi. They're more relaxed, I guess. It's kind of like family; if they see you need something they'll come over, and then if they want to borrow something from us we'll help them."

Delia and Juan Muñoz, who live in Downey, about a 45-minute drive inland, usually take trips to the more deserty areas near Bishop (east of the Sierra Nevada) or Gorman (60 miles north of Los Angeles), where their kids ride off-road motorcycles. On long weekends they get together there with some of their relatives who also own motor homes. This is their first time at Dockweiler because they wanted to try something different--the beach. "We're going to come back," Delia Muñoz said. "Even though you're close to home, you feel like you're far, far away."

Besides watching her children splash in the ocean, one of the things she most enjoys is meeting people here. "They tell you their stories of where they've gone. It's a good way to find out where we might want to go visit next. We make friends with them and then say, ‘Well, maybe we'll see you here next time!'"

Kids have a lot they can do here, though they can't really run wild because of the proximity of a busy street, the bicycle path, and the frequently rough surf. Three boys from Duarte, about an hour's drive inland--brothers Niko and E. J. Agundez, ages 15 and nine, and friend John Meredith, also nine--come here every year with their families in several RVs. "You can play volleyball, swim, play games, hang out," said Niko Agundez. "We saw dolphins when we were out swimming."

"Did they tell you in the morning we were getting ready to come out here and we turned on the news and it said, ‘Dockweiler--dirty water'?" laughed Niko and E.J.'s father, who had emerged from the RV while we were talking. "I turned it off," he said. "If not, I wouldn't have come down here." "Last time we were here, one of our friends came out of the ocean and there was a piece of toilet paper stuck on her face," said Niko. But that didn't seem to have spoiled their fun, either.

For Ronel Huth, a friend of the Agundez and Meredith families, the beach is much more than just a place to have fun. "I love the ocean," she said. "I feel like I've arrived, this is my destiny, whenever I get to the sand." However, much as it pains her ecologically to say it, Huth admits that their kids would like to be able to ride motorcycles on the beach.

John Mireles had a bright smile as he and his wife Donna prepared to grill some chicken. Their reason for choosing Dockweiler was different: it was the only beach RV park where they managed to get a reservation. They had found that it sometimes takes as long as seven months to get one at a beach.

But they're happy here. They've been to other beaches in California, like Santa Barbara and Carpinteria, which don't have the hook-ups Dockweiler has. When I asked Donna for a final word on what the coast means to her, she said, "Freedom." I'm sure most people here at Dockweiler would happily agree with her.