We departed from Pago Pago, American Samoa around 8am on August 5th, and we were happy to be leaving, for sure. If you don’t know why, check out my previous essay, which details all of our adventures in Pago Pago. Anyway, I don’t have much written in our logbook about this passage to Tonga other than we caught a Dorado (aka Mahi Mahi). However, this passage lives on in my memory as one of our worst one without any specific recollection as to why. The few log entries show that we had windspeeds between 17 and 24 kts at an apparent wind angle forward of the beam the whole way. Yuck. We were heavily reefed the whole time because there were many nighttime squalls.
Although Tonga is on the East side of the dateline (180 deg longitude), it has elected to be in a time zone as if it were on the other side in order to be consistent with New Zealand and Fiji. So, we lost a day on this passage, and it turns out that the day we lost was my sister’s birthday. Sorry Danna.
The sun was rising when we arrived in the wind shadow of the largest island of Vava’u it was like heaven. The seas flattened and the wind calmed. We made VHF radio contact with two other boats we knew who expressed the same relief of coming into the calm. As we made our way inside the island group we listened to the VHF cruisers net, which was helpful, because they were able to tell us exactly where we needed to go to clear in. Apparently Tongan officials aren’t monitoring the radio too often. We arrived, all checked in and ready to explore, on the afternoon of 8 August.
We left Pago Pago on the morning of 5 August and had a three-day passage to Vava’u, which is an island group in The Kingdom of Tonga, and a popular charter cruising destination. Overall, we spent a wonderful month and a half in Vava’u, and this essay will only cover the first half of that, because there is just so much to say. We cleared in at the port of Neiafu and stayed for about four days, until our friends from back home, Yi and Johnny, came for a visit. Once they arrived, we headed out the channel and around the corner to a popular anchorage called Port Maurelle (aka Fangakima, aka Anchorage #7) on Kapa Island. This was a good home base for some snorkeling and whale watching excursions and it also has access to a decent running trail around the island. After a couple days there we sailed to the outside of the island group to the lagoon formed by Hunga and Fofoa Islands. The entrance to the lagoon was very narrow, and once through we tried to anchor on the southeast side of the lagoon off of a nice beach, but we were unsuccessful in finding a spot with suitable depth, so we ended up anchoring on the southwest side of the lagoon off of Fofoa Island. On the north side of the lagoon is Hunga Village and a resort with moorings (where Anchorage #13 is located), but we didn’t venture up that way. Our next stop was more towards the western end of the island group to Tapana Island (aka Anchorage #11) for our first Tongan Feast. Then we went down to ‘Euakafa Island (aka Anchorage #32), where we hiked to the tomb of a Tongan Princess. By this time, Yi and Johnny’s visit was coming to a close, and we spent one last night at Port Maurelle before heading back to Neiafu for them to catch their flight. Before we got sucked into shopping and internet in Neiafu, we turned right around and headed back to Port Maurelle, and once again used it as a home base for some snorkeling excursions. Eventually, we needed to go back to Neiafu for provisioning, completing a couple boat projects, and going on a pub crawl. We took a timeout from “city life” and moved down to the south end of the channel at Anchorage #2, near the town of Toula. Finally, we were ready to head back out to the islands and we departed Neiafu for anchorage #16 and the coral gardens on 28 August.
The rest of our Vava’u adventures, including a visit from Papa and Nana, will be covered in the next essay or two.
Even with the Costco and the cheap laundry, we could not get out of Pago Pago fast enough. Once our weather window opened, we were outa there! We departed on the afternoon of August 5th bound for Neiafu, Tonga.
Provisioning-Pago Pago is traditionally known as a good place to stock up on provisions, since there are many U.S. products that you can’t find in many of the other island countries. However, it had been getting some negative press lately, so we weren’t really sure what to expect. But what we found was extremely good provisioning, with the exception of fresh produce. The markets in town had limited supplies, but there was a huge costco type warehouse store that had pretty much everything we couldn’t find in French Polynesia: Canned chicken, monterey jack cheese, Tim’s vanilla coffee creamer, cheap american beer and wine, breakfast cereals, etc. In contrast, thought, we were seriously disappointed in the hard liquor options. Specifically, we couldn’t find Bacardi Anejo, which was my rum staple throughout Mexico, and we were down to our last couple bottles. We were able to stock up on Captain Morgan spiced rum for Tim, and they had a version of Captain Morgan called “private stock” which is excellent for sipping. Steve (Lady Carolina) said he liked it better than Zaya, but I most definitely did not. CM has too strong a vanilla taste, and I prefer the subtle caramel flavor of Zaya.
Harbor Bottom-One of the main reasons cruisers tend to skip Pago Pago these days is the notoriously fouled harbor bottom, which is mostly a result of a 2009 tsunami that caused a lot of destruction in and around the harbor. We love to exchange stories of what sort of items people have pulled up off the bottom with their anchor. While we were there, we saw someone pull up a Christmas tree after their anchor didn’t set the first time.
Laundry-In French Polynesia, laundry was insanely expensive, so we had even started handwashing ourselves. So, Pago Pago was a nice change in that they had a big American style laundromat where you can do your own laundry. I did 10 loads for a total of $30 U.S. (I guess I haven’t mentioned that it was kind of nice to be able to use our own native currency again…)
The first step to clear into American Samoa was to radio Pago Pago harbor control for permission to enter the harbor and to ask for instructions. We arrived after business hours (after 4pm) so we were advised to go ahead and anchor and then tomorrow come to shore to complete the clearing in process. Apparently, if you arrive during business hours you have to tie your boat up to the wharf and it can be a precarious situation, so we were more than happy to arrive after hours.
On Exodus, the handling of all the administration of foreign formalities is a “pink job.” In fact, we list me as co-captain on all of our paperwork so that I can have the authority to be the official signature when clearing in or out of a country. These formalities can sometimes be a frustrating and inefficient process (understatement), so my patience level tends to match this task better than Tim’s.
Anyway, the next morning I went to shore alone and started at the harbormaster’s office, where I filled out a form, and then the clerk escorted me to the other side of the building to visit a few more offices, of which I wasn’t certain what each one was. Customs was definitely there, and I think quaratine/health, and the port authority (where you eventually have to pay your port fees when you leave). Then I had to walk about a mile to immigration to have our passports stamped. It wasn’t an unpleasant walk, except for the light rain that kept starting and stopping. I had trouble finding the immigration office, but I just asked someone, and enjoyed being in a country where English is prevelant for the first time in over a year. At immigration, the man who filled out our paperwork and stamped and photocopied our passports seemed to be moving in slow motion. I wanted to offer to do it for him, but I resisted. Eventually, I made it out of there, and we were all nice and legally cleared into the country.
When I got back to Exodus and was putting away all of our paperwork, including our passports, I had a complete and utter panic attack. I only had three passports! Luckily, immigration had been the last place I had been to, and since I knew I had all four passports there, I knew where the missing passport, Brenden’s passport, must be. Instead of walking all the way back there, Tim drove me around the point in the dinghy. It was a wet, beach drop-off, but I wanted to get back to the immigration office as quickly as possible, so I didn’t want to take time finding “the best” place to park the dinghy. When I got back to the office, of course, it was a different guy there, and when I told him I must have left a passport there, he was flustered and didn’t really know what to do. He couldn’t even find our paperwork. While sitting there a little discouraged, my eyes fell on the photocopy machine. Of course! I suggested to the guy that he check there, and he was relieved to have some direction, and even more relieved that the passport was actually there. He, and the other guy who had joined him in the search by then, reacted as if I was some sort of mystic.
Pago Pago ended up being fun for the kids, because in addition to Lady Carolina, there were two other kid boats in the harbor. One was a boat called Wildlife with an Australian family who are now based in the Ha’apai group in Tonga, and they had a boy and girl, probably 14 and 12 or something like that. The other was a boat called Moonjoos with some guys from South Africa, including a 15(?) year old nephew.
The day after the storm the weather couldn’t have been more different. The wind stopped, the rain stopped, and the sun even came out a bit. So, we were able to proceed with our plans to celebrate Alex’s birthday with a BBQ on board Exodus. The kids all came over and hung out, then we grilled up some burgers and dogs, then the kids went to shore to play while the adults drank and chatted on into the evening. It was nice and relaxing, especially in contrast to the chaos of the previous night. That was August 3rd, which meant the next day was Alex’s actual real birthday, and it was our intended last day in Pago Pago, since we had been tracking a weather window to leave for Tonga. On Alex’s actual birthday I dragged the boys around for last minute provisioning, but don’t feel too sorry for Alex. The day DID include lunch at McDonald’s and a bus ride that included all of the latest hip hop tunes. I usually let the boys pick out presents for each other, so Brenden picked out a small speaker for Alex to use with his new iPod nano. Yeah, we gave Alex a new nano for his birthday. We were able to find one in a computer and electronics shop just outside Pago Pago. He is really getting into music, and he wanted a nano so he can listen to music as he does dishes or moves about, since “his iPod doesn’t fit in his pocket.”
I just wasn’t feeling today’s run. It was a beautiful day with no rain and just a slight breeze. But every step took every bit of determination I could muster, and I did stop a few times to rest, under the guise of stopping to snap a few photos, of course. Maybe it was the searing sun, maybe it was the red wine I drank last night, or maybe it was my to do list clicking through my head since we are leaving for a two-day passage in the morning. But really, I think it was the feeling of dread I just couldn’t shake after hearing the news this morning that a boat we know of went aground on the reef in Suwarrow. Suwarrow. We were just there. I can picture the anchorage and the reef vividly in my mind, and I remember a sheltered anchorage with good holding even if there were scattered coral heads just dying to wrap the anchor chain. I don’t know all the details but either their anchor dragged, or their ground tackle failed and one minute they were just regular cruisers like the rest of us, and the next minute their world was ground to a halt. I don’t know if the vessel will be salvageable. Sometimes they are, but a lot of times they just become those underwater wrecks that we snorkel and dive on because they collect all sorts of marine life.
The thing is, we’ve all had close calls where we only scraped by with a little bit of luck. Pretty much everyone out here has such a story to tell. For us, our cruising journey could have ended within the first month if it weren’t for that little bit of luck finding us at just the right time. Our anchor dragged and we hadn’t started using an anchor alarm yet. Luckily it happened while 1) Tim and the boys were still awake, and 2) They were outside and in a position to notice rather than inside watching a movie or something. If it had happened after we were all in bed, we would have ended up on the rocks. I shudder to think of it.
Upon arrival, we found what we thought was a pretty good spot to anchor in a shallow patch near the “marina” with a good view of McDonald’s. The anchor set the first time and held steady as we backed down on it with both engines, and we were soon enjoying our safe arrival cocktails, reunited with Lady Carolina. Our first few days there we didn’t have any issues, so we thought Lady Carolina was being a little too precautionary by not ever leaving their boat unattended. We soon learned that they were not.
I think it was our third night that we dragged anchor in the middle of the night in moderate winds. This was the first time we had dragged since getting the new Rocna (and the only time since, I might add). And while it was a pain, because OF COURSE these sorts of things always happen at night, it really wasn’t too much of an issue, because we learned our lessons about dragging a long time ago. We had the anchor alarm set, it woke us up, we reset the anchor (OF COURSE it didn’t set the first time since it was the middle of the night, and it was raining). Close to daybreak the anchor alarm went off again, and we went through re-anchoring process again. I stayed up at that point, because while I’m talking this down like it was no big deal at this point, anchor dragging is ALWAYS a big deal, and my nerves were a bit shot. The anchor alarm kept going off as Exodus continued to slowly drag back again, but I let Tim sleep and figured we could reset again in the morning, which we did. But at the time when the sun came up, we were about 100-150 ft back of where we had been the night before, and don’t think the boat behind us didn’t notice. I got a VHF call from them in the morning, and they very politely let me know that we seemed a bit closer to them this morning than we had been before.
After that we went another couple days without incident. Except for the rain. Have I mentioned the rain yet? It rained pretty much the whole time we were in Pago Pago. Sometimes just light showers, sometimes torrential downpours, but I think the only day it didn’t rain was our very last full day there, which just happened to be my son’s 13th birthday. Anyway, after a couple days with a firmly set anchor I was spending the day at the laundromat doing about 10 loads of laundry. Our friends from Lady Carolina joined me, and after having had their own anchor firmly set for over a week, this was the first time they had left the kids alone on the boat. So, of course, all hell broke loose.
They got the radio call from their son that their anchor was dragging, so Steve, Father and Captain, rushed back out to the boat. From my own little handheld VHF radio I was monitoring traffic after that, and I gathered that they were tying up to a huge industrial mooring, since they couldn’t seem to get the anchor reset. Just when it all sounds like it’s going fine, and I’m settling in to wait for my clothes to be done in the dryer by watching the most excellent movie they are showing that is called “Sharknado,” I pick up half of a VHF conversation between Steve (Lady Carolina) and Brenden, my youngest son who was left alone on Exodus while my husband and older son went to help Lady Carolina.
All I can hear is:
Steve: “Not now Brenden”
-Pause-
Steve: “Oh! Well, can you start the engines?”
-Pause-
Steve: “OK, Alex will be right back to help.”
That’s right. Exodus picked this exact moment to ALSO start dragging anchor. Being stuck at the Laundromat watching low budget sci-fi movies during a crisis like this has its advantages. Admittedly, there was NOTHING I could do, so all I did was listen and wait. Eventually, I heard that my husband was back on Exodus and together with help from the boys got the anchor reset. The story I heard later was that Brenden had gotten the engines started, but was at a loss of what to do after that, so he grabbed a fender from one of the lockers and was running around the boat prepared to fend off anything we might hit. Comical. Alex was able to rev forward enough on the engines to hold Exodus in place, so Brenden didn’t actually have to use his fender and together they kept Exodus safe until their dad was able to come take over. Later, we noticed the boat behind us had put out all of their fenders as well. Probably a good precaution.
It’s a funny story now, but if only that were the end of it. We knew the weather forecast for that night was pretty grim, with the gribs predicting 25+ knots, which usually means much higher. There was lots of radio chatter about the forecast, and one of the boats even decided to just leave and face the weather out in the open ocean rather than in the confined harbor with boats dragging all over the place. Tim always says, “It’s not the ocean that’s dangerous, it’s all the hard stuff around the edges.”
Anyway, of course the winds started to pick up as the sun went down. And shortly after that the calls for help on the VHF started. First, a vessel near the back of the harbor called Pago Pago Port Control to let them know there were two boats dragging, both unattended. One of the dragging boats had actually fouled the anchor of another boat, but luckily that boat had its crew on board and they were able to free themselves. The other dragging boat was at the very, very back of the anchorage on a mooring ball. Port Control never responded. A bit later, a call came from a fellow Lagoon catamaran that was anchored in front of Lady Carolina’s industrial mooring. Apparently, they were dragging and then their windlass cut out so they couldn’t raise the anchor. Tim jumped in the dinghy to go help, and together with a skipper from another vessel they were able to get the situation under control. They radioed Port Control to see if there was somewhere along a dock they could tie up to for the rest of the night. Again, no answer. So, they just tied up to a tug boat that was tied to the quarantine dock. They figured they would ask forgiveness in the morning, if necessary.
Later, Exodus got into the dragging fun. We basically just got into a routine of monitoring the anchor alarm as we slowly dragged back and then at some threshold we would raise anchor and reset and repeat. The wind topped out in the 45 kts sustained range, and to top it off, it rained cats and dogs, so every time we had to reanchor, Tim had to go get wet. It was a long night, and the when the sun came out the next morning, it was a very welcome sight.
This was a pretty big storm, felt across a large area of The Pacific Ocean. In fact, this same night when we were dragging anchor, resetting, and repeating, another vessel in the atoll of Suwarrow in The Cook Islands went aground. Although the two people on board were safe, the vessel was lost. So, aside from the foul bottom, Pago Pago is actually a pretty decent place to weather out a storm like this. The shape of the harbor eliminated any substantial fetch and probably protected us from even higher wind speeds.
Something that I totally forgot to mention in the blog post, was that the night when we were dragging, Tim tried something new with the anchor that did seem to help a bit, althought it’s hard to say for sure. He basically attached our mushroom dinghy anchor to the anchor chain near the main anchor. This is referred to as a “kellet” anchor, and apparently it enjoys a bit of controversy regarding how effective it really is. Here’s a link to some info: http://www.coastalboating.net/Cruising/Seamanship/Anchoring/Kellets.html
Although not the most effective way to improve your anchoring situation (a heavier main anchor and more chain out is ALWAYS better), in a situation where your options are limited a kellet is certainly worth a shot. The theory is sound in that it should provide SOME benefit, how much benefit and whether that benefit is overall negligible depends on many, many factors. Like I said, using it that night seemed to help, but it could just be that the main anchor itself set better, so we will never know for sure.
Lady Carolina on the industrial mooringS/V Mahi Mahi with all their fenders out
Pago Pago is the capital of American Samoa, an overseas U.S. territory in the south pacific. Before we left home, I didn’t even know the U.S. had a territory in the South Pacific, and it wasn’t until we arrived just a few days ago that I started wondering how and why that came about. I assumed it had something to do with WWII, given the Pacific was such a huge theater in that war, but I was wrong about that. It actually goes way back to around the turn century, after the Spanish-American War but before WWI, when the U.S. was getting its first tastes of imperialism. Apparently, the U.S. liked this location as a refueling station for coal burning ships, and a dispute with Germany put that access at risk. The dispute was settled with a treaty that granted Germany the western islands of Samoa and the U.S. the eastern islands (nevermind what the Samoans actually wanted). After that the eastern Samoan islands became known as American Samoa and were pretty much under occupation by the U.S. Navy. The last King of Samoa was strong armed into stepping down and agreeing that there would never be another King. It was, after all, incompatible with the U.S.’s constitutional democracy.
Today, it is still known as American Samoa, and I find it a bit like a paradox between American and Samoan cultures. In many ways, it’s very American: 1) The “golden arches” are gracing the edge of the harbor, and we can see them from our boat in the anchorage 2) A costco style warehouse store has most things you’d find at a costco. They even have Tim’s favorite vanilla coffee mate creamer. (We never did find that in Mexico) and Honey Nut Cheerios. 3) There is a Starkist Tuna processing plant. I’m not even sure if Starkist is American, but it sure seems like it.
4) The national currency is the U.S. dollar. 5) Everyone speaks English. 6) There are coin operated do it yourself laundromats.
However, in other ways, it’s nothing like being in the U.S. 1) The infrastructure (roads, buildings, etc.) are much more run down. Better than many places in Mexico, but nothing like the U.S. 2) The men wear skirts, the traditional Samoan dress known as the “lava lava.” 3) There are stray dogs everywhere. 4) There is lots of chatter on VHF channel 16. The USCG would quickly smack that down.
5) Everyone speaks Samoan. 6) There is a totally unscheduled, public bus system. But the buses run so frequently, you never have to wait long. They play excruciatingly loud music, and they will even drop you off somewhere off the route if you ask. 7) They have graves in their front yards. We saw this also in Mauptit, French Polynesia, but only Maupiti. 8) There is trash everywhere. There’s an aggressive ad campaign (billboards and radio ads) to reduce littering, so maybe it’s getting better, but it’s still pretty bad.
9) The Samoan people are very friendly.
I finally got out for a run this morning. Yes, this is our 4th day here, but I had an excuse every day: Day 1 – I had to walk around town to 5 different government offices (The Port Captain, Customs, Health, Port Security, and Immigration) to fully clear into the country. Then when I got back to the boat and was unloading my pack I realized I only had 3 passports. Panic!!! I had to go back to the immigration office, where our 4th passport was still in the photocopy machine. Day 2 – I was hungover. I know, I know, terrible excuse, but we had the most enjoyable potluck on one of the other boats and the evening ended with just us and our hosts sipping Drambuie and having pleasant conversation. We didn’t get home until after midnight. We did rent a car and do heavy provisioning, so I did torture myself for my late night imbibing, just not with a run. Day 3 – We were awakened at 4am by our anchor alarm and found we were dragging and had to reanchor. It took a couple tries to reset, and after that I stayed on anchor watch while Tim went back to bed.
I finally ran today, on day 4, and I headed around the bay to the other side. I didn’t really think this through. My rationale was I had already driven the other way, so I knew what was over there, but what I failed to realize was that I would end up right by the Starkist Tuna plant. And in case you were wondering, it smells even worse up close. Then, on the way back I was caught in a torrential downpour. Have I mentioned I hate running in the rain?
In my last post before we left Suwarrow I presented the picture of a jerk, a real jackass, if you will. He is one part passive aggressive victim and one part out and out jerk bent on making the net controller’s life miserable. Of course, in painting this picture, I fell into the fallacy of treating human nature as black and white. Two-dimensional. Good and bad. This is not real life, and I can’t believe I did this, because a proper treatment of the complexity of our species is something I’ve always appreciated in art. In movies like “Crash” and even TV series like “Lost” (the first season anyway, before it “jumped the shark.”) you sometimes lose track of who’s good and who’s bad, and isn’t that real life anyway? We all have good and bad in us, and we all have shining moments and then the duller ones we’d like to sweep under the rug but can’t because they are a part of us too.
On one of the evening radio nets during our current passage, someone underway, much further south of us, asked if anyone had weather information for his area. I was only half listening, I had a poor copy on him after all, and I was also simultaneously preparing dinner. Nevermind that I HAD downloaded weather only a half an hour before, but I didn’t really hear where he was, and I just really couldn’t be bothered. Well, after the net was over, Mr. Jackass, who must have been listening the whole time even though he didn’t check in, called the vessel requesting weather and told him he’d download it right away, so stay on frequency and he would get back to him. Who’s the jackass now?
I’m sure this guy, this “jackass” has many sides and many angles, just like all of us. That doesn’t mean he isn’t as annoying as all hell on the net sometimes, it just means he doesn’t deserve to be painted as a two dimensional cartoon character.
We should arrive in Pago Pago, American Samoa late this afternoon. Since I haven’t really had a proper run since Mopelia, I am looking forward to stretching my legs on a road, rather than on sand, rocks, and coral.
Gresham Family Exodus 