Talofa (hello) Samoa!
06 October 2012
Mark
About mid-morning, I glanced up from my book. There, in the distance off to port jutted the surprisingly high volcanic mountains of American Samoa. Though I knew we were a safe distance north of them, I was taken aback that we could actually see them - well. All of the landfalls we've made since leaving Hawaii have had one thing in common. Being atolls, their elevation in meters have topped out in the single digits. But these islands were not atolls and I felt unexpectedly at home again in their presence. We sailed past American Samoa all day and near the end of Lolo's watch (and our daylight hours) spotted the distant peaks of Upolu, Western Samoa. Since light winds had spoiled our plans for a daylight arrival, we reduced sail and tried to go as slow as possible to arrive in Apia Harbor at first light. The night came unsettling and dark. Building clouds obscured most of the moonlight and we could see regular flashes of lightning in the distance ahead. At exactly 0600 hours, the vhf crackled to life as a ship hailed for the Apia pilot requesting rendezvous in an hour, and after listening in, I requested permission to follow. By 0700 there was enough grey light to enable visual navigation, but a very black cloud seemed to be building and hemming us in as we closed on the harbor entrance. I wanted to get inside before this building squall unleashed itself. With sails doused, we began to follow the cruise ship in but were forced to wait as tugs jockeyed the ship and backed her into the harbor. Lightning was still flashing in the distance and the air was heavy with moisture. An American Coast Guard buoy tender headed out of the harbor to make room for the cruise ship and we tried our best to stay out of the way as we drifted in the narrows between channel markers but literally ended up dodging the Coast Guard ship. The Americans seemed to make a show of the scene and increased their speed, pointing their bow directly at us. I planted our ensign on the stern so we could at least show our colors, but they didn't seem to care. After passing close by us, they immediately altered course and reduced speed. Though we could see them well, no one returned our waves. It seemed rather juvenile to me and as far as I was concerned left a black eye on my impression of the American Coast Guard. Machismo was the only statement made. By now the black squall descended and let go its full cargo of rain upon us. Since it had been a hot sweaty passage I, was ready for a shower. Oddly, 3 of our four last landfalls have ended in just such a welcoming downpour, if not so public - which does wonders for the body and soul. Stripping off my shirt, I grabbed the soap and shampoo and bathed in the sweet rainwater - even washing my hair. Samoa is a rather conservative culture and I'm sure at least a few of the folks on the cruise ship and tugs wondered about those crazy "yachties" (a term I despise), but I really didn't care. At this point our pilot boat came to guide us around the cruise ship and into a slip. There was not much to do but finish up my rather public shower before the rain ceased. Even the good ship Radiance got her decks and rig washed free of salt. Talofa (hello) Samoa!