Last updated January 15, 2005
| Sunday, September 21, 2003 At anchor, Pago Pago harbor, American Samoa Dear friends and family: We were somewhat sad to leave Suvarov -- we had such wonderful adventures there, and met such interesting people. But we must move on, as the start of the cyclone season is looming only two months away. We're in American Samoa now, and still want to see Western Samoa and several of the groups of islands in Tonga. If you've looked at our itinerary, as originally planned last March, you'll see that we're already about a month behind schedule. (I guess we were just enjoying ourselves too much!) |
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| So we left Suvarov a week ago, knowing that the southeast tradewinds
were good, but that there were convergence zones (patterns of bad weather) we
might have to cross. That first night we were overtaken by several very
large squalls, traveling faster than us, and going our same direction
(downwind). We allowed the first one to overtake us, and stayed in the heavy
rain for a couple of hours, while the winds constantly increased (top gust
40 knots). We finally radically changed course to get out of its way,
something we should have done much sooner. The second big squall, in the
middle of the night, was full of thunder and lightning, but we were able to
avoid it completely. Our course line had us veering north and south all
through the night, to avoid successive squalls. The second night was also full of squalls, but not so violent. The third night we finally had some peace, although we were all exhausted by the time we arrived in American Samoa at noon the next day. We all had some queasiness during the trip, and there was more than a little active seasickness (not naming names!) We were all participants (willing or not) in the famous "sailor's weight loss plan." |
| Pago Pago harbor (above, photo by J. Kosyna & C. Neunteufel)
is about as different from Suvarov (or from anyplace we've seen so far) as
you can imagine. There are two tuna canneries on the north side of the
harbor which employ a third of the population of the island. (Starkist and
one other cannery). When the wind blows the wrong way, the smell is pretty
bad. In addition, the factory noise is constant and inescapable. There are
fishing boats -- perhaps 70 or 80 feet long -- rafted up against the
factories. They are 6 to 12 boats deep, and there are at least 6 or 7 rafts
of this size. All have their fluorescent lights going all night. Most are
real rust buckets -- originally white, but with great streaks and patches of
rust, and blotches of other colors (mostly black). Each seems to be
equipped, nonetheless, with a satellite phone and whatever equipment they
can fit into a high tech communications dome.
Most of the ships seem to be from Taiwan or Korea, and the young men from the ships walk around the harbor in groups of 10 or so, taking pictures, looking at electronics in the stores, and keeping to themselves. We have seen no tourists whatsoever. Most of the sailboats in the harbor are permanent liveaboards, and some of those boats are in a sorry state. Of the cruisers, QueSara was here before us, and Vellamo arrived on Friday, but the rest appear to be more or less permanent. Many of the boat residents are Americans who stopped cruising for one reason or another (probably lack of money) and some have found jobs here. Some are friendly, and others seem to treat us with disdain. We had difficulty anchoring, and one boater had his binoculars trained on us the entire time, did not acknowledge a wave, and did not respond to a radio call requesting advice about where best to anchor. When we talked to him later, he said "I watch all the boats coming in." The bottom of the harbor is reportedly covered with years of US military junk -- old cars, old tanks, cables, batteries, you name it. The mud that covers the junk is apparently quite contaminated. I don't understand why the government isn't forced to clean it up! We are told that the mud is also full of old plastic bags, which makes hooking an anchor quite difficult. When you add to that the 20 to 30 knot wind that whistles through here, it becomes a real problem. We finally put out a second anchor, and seem to be holding securely enough for us to be willing to leave the boat for more than an hour or two. |
| Pago Pago town and harbor scenes (photos by J. Kosyna and C. Neunteufel) |
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| We rented a car and have done a couple of major shopping trips. "Cost-U-Less" is a closeout store for "Costco" -- smells like Costco, same hot dog stand at the entrance, much of the same merchandise on the shelves. So we replaced the toaster that croaked last week, and we replaced the printer that died before it had been used more than a few times. (The lack of a printer was really brought home to us when the customs people here asked for five copies of our crew list. I hand wrote the list five times (complete with birthdates and passport numbers).) We also found some -- but not all -- of our favorite foods -- We now have a two month supply of Country Time lemonade and a few packs of jerky, but we found no canned chicken. |  The dashboard of our rental car -- photo by J. Kosyna and C. Neunteufel. |
 Photo by J. Kosyna & C. Neunteufel |
Yesterday we drove in the car out to the eastern end of the island. Once you leave the Pago Pago harbor area, the countryside seems peaceful, tropical and clean. It was Saturday afternoon, so there were lots of people swimming at the beaches. There are a number of haystack-type rocks, and where they waves wash in between them and the shore, the water is quite calm -- suitable for small children to swim. |
| Other places on the coast are quite rugged. We stopped to photograph a rusted hulk of a shipwreck. We listened to the singing of two young men who were pulled off to the side of the road there in their truck. They and a friend drank beer, played ukulele, and sang Samoan songs as dusk approached. |
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Overhead we could see the fruit bats (also known as the Samoan flying fox) circling. Against the sky they look like the classic "batman" emblem. These animals are apparently endangered (they were hunted almost to extinction) and are now protected by U.S. law. |
| At the farthest point of our drive, we stopped at the village of Au'asi, where there is a dock for the ferry to Anu'u. The sign at the ferry says "No tourists on Sunday." The village gong sounded, which meant we were in the period of "sa," a mandatory ten minutes of meditation or prayer. There are sa enforcers (we never saw any, but have heard stories about sa enforcers using violence) to make sure no one is walking around during sa. While we sat quietly in a shelter, we listened to choir practice in the church across the road. In a village of probably 300 people, they have a church choir of 60 people, who sing hymns in four part harmony, and antiphonal Samoan songs -- all quite beautifully. |
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A typical fale (on the left) and an elaborate tomb (on the right). |
| The unique architectural structure here is a covered pavilion, called a fale. ("Fah-lay"). The bigger houses seem to have their own fale (perhaps 15 by 30 feet). In a small village their will be three or four of these fale. They were vacant now, but are apparently used for meetings, and for sleeping in the ocean breeze (and out of the rain). Usually there are family tombs close by. Unlike French Polynesia, most of these tombs are out in the open, not covered by any sort of roof structure. We were told that most of the land is communal, and the tombs are a way of strengthening a family's connection to the land. Many of the tombs are built up several steps, and covered with artificial flowers. |
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We ended the day at Tisa's Barefoot Bar and Grill. Tisa lived in California for 15 or 20 years, and then returned to her ancestral land to build her house and restaurant. There's no parking lot -- just the shoulder of the road. You walk down a path through the jungle, onto a ledge above the beach. where a deck is built out with tables and gas lamps. Ordinarily they require 24 hours notice for dinner, so when we first showed up at around 5 pm, dinner was not possible that night. We talked for a few minutes, and Tisa asked if we'd like vegetable curry. We said, "sure," and arranged to return around 7 pm, after dark. By the time we got back, a friend of Tisa's had stopped by with some mahi-mahi and freshwater shrimp, and we were treated to a wonderful dinner. The place is right on the beach, and the barman, "Candyman" told us all about catching lobsters, the migratory behavior of coconut crabs, the scarcity of fruit bats, the nesting of sea turtles, and where we should go in Western Samoa. |
| We had brunch this morning with Mitch and Rise, who are
permanent residents in the harbor. Mitch is a mechanical engineer who works
at the hospital, and Rise does computer work on the boat (on contract with a
U.S. employer). We were interested in hearing about life here, but we think
it's time to move on. Pago Pago has a reputation as a very rainy place, and
indeed, it's raining a lot today. Candyman (at Tisa's) told us that last
year, on a day in early October, it rained 9 inches in an hour. This is
supposed to be the dry season, but I guess it's all comparative. We'll head
next for Apia in Western Samoa. Best wishes to all our friends and family! We haven't been able to get an email connection for about 3 days (Craig's theory is that it's all the heavy machinery at the tuna canneries). So wish us luck for getting into cleaner airwaves tonight! Craig & Barbara Johnston S/V Sequoia |
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