ABOUT: Chris & Manuela departed San Francisco, California, on April 18th on their J-40 sloop to sail to the South Pacific and points west. We think we'll be sailing 2-3 years, and then return to our normal lives. ARCHIVES:   Thursday, July 17, 2003   Dear Friends, The time has come for us to move on, and so also time for another letter. Samoa was a wonderful experience after the stress (and general price level) of Hawaii. Samoan people are by western standards very relaxed and laid back, as the peoples of much of the pacific appear to be. Outside of Apia, the capital of 30,000 people, much life still progresses along the traditional ways. People live within an extended family unit, which is part of a fairly tightly nit village. Homes are “fales”, which are buildings without a single wall, but only a roof and a few poles as supports. As one walks around, one can thus see life unfold inside people’s homes, although closer inspection as well as photography seems to be somewhat discouraged (we believed the guide books in this and didn’t try to push our luck much). Local children playing around Our trip to the south side of the main island (Upolu) began at the central bus station, where we intended to catch the 10:00 am bus to Lalomanu. As in much of the 3rd world, departure times have to be taken with a grain of salt, however. Here in Apia the standard procedure appears to be for the bus to circle repeatedly through the town until it is more or less full. At that point, we left Apia on the main road leading east. Every 5 minutes or so, we’d stop at the side of the road to pick up another passenger. At one of these stops, a rather large number of passengers were getting off, and before long the bus was nearly empty. Only a couple of very large (say 300 pounds or so) women remained on board in addition to Manu and myself. The grocery store located to our left seemed to be the last opportunity for villagers to buy needed staples before returning home. And sure enough, slowly the bus filled again, only loaded just a bit more this time around. Our next major stop was the gas station. Here the bus driver bought enough gas for the round trip, and everybody else got off to buy ice-cream, coconut filled donuts, or just some ordinary candy. Our bus at the gas station The ride then proceeded east along the north-shore of the island, before turning south to cross the mountain ridge that runs the length of Upolu. Much of this central part of the island seems to be barely inhabited, the terrain of course being the main cause. We then descended towards the south eastern tip of the island, where Lalomanu is located. Here we left the bus, and stayed for 3 days in beach fales, which have been adapted for tourist use. The small hut has 3 walls made of palm-leaf mats, with the fourth side being open directly onto the beach. Most of our days we spent reading, going for walks, and snorkeling amongst the 100’s of reef fish species, which were living right on our door-step. Manu in beach fale One of the more interesting sights to visit on Samoa is Robert L. Stephenson’s home, which he built here in the late 1880’s. This Irish author of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, as well as Treasure Island, had come here via Hawaii with his family to seek a better climate for his tuberculosis. Four years after arriving, he passed away. Visiting his home, and seeing photos from that period, I was struck by what an outlandish adventure it must have been to come here in those days. No phone, no regular mail service, no infra-structure, and probably not even a real idea of how things would look like. In comparison, we are certainly traveling first class with baby-cradle safety. How the times change. RL Stephenson's Home By the way, the estate looks much more grandiose than to Stephenson’s times. After he passed away, the German governor (Samoa was a German colony from 1900 to 1914) bought and refurbished it. Well, tomorrow or the day after we are off to Tonga. Our first port of call will be Niuatoputapu, a small island some 180 miles SSW of here. We should arrive there 1.5 days after we leave. However, due to its extreme remoteness (typically, a ship calls there once every 2-3 months), we don’t expect to be able to email or call until we reach Neiafu on Vava’u sometime after the 27th of the month. Christoph 7:19 PM Wednesday, July 02, 2003   Hi Everyone, after 16 days at sea (2300 nautical miles / 4000km) we arrived in Apia, the capital of Samoa, last Saturday morning. We had had some trepidation about this passage, since it was the first long one that Manuela and I would attempt by ourselves. Our prime concern revolved around how we would get enough rest/sleep, since one of us would have to stand watch 24 hours a day. We started off with a 4 hours on / 4 hours off schedule, which really means that one is on watch for 4 hours, and then spends some time doing a few chores (cooking/washing/cleaning, etc.), before catching some sleep. After a couple of days one is sufficiently sleep deprived that going to sleep at odd hours is no problem anymore, and one settles into a steady state of being functioning but tired, which after all was not very different from the experience with more crew. The other concern of course revolved around handling the sails with just the two of us, but by sailing conservatively and reducing sail early, we never felt overwhelmed or out of control. With perfect weather, the first 5 days of the passage contained some truly glorious, fast sailing (we covered over 900 miles in those first days). Then we hit the “doldrums”, that zone close to the equator where air largely rises, resulting in lots of squalls (thunderstorms) to dump moisture, as well as at times a near complete absence of wind. For us, crossing the doldrums consisted of an initial 13 hours of heavy weather with non-stop rain (sometimes driving so hard that the face hurt, at other times just heavy, but never a drizzle). My hands and feet didn’t quite appreciate this continuous bath, as the picture below illustrates. Chris's Foot More unsettling than the rain, though, was the truly spectacular lightening - our 50 foot (15 meter) aluminum mast basically represents the perfect lightening rod. In such conditions boats are at times struck, typically frying every piece of electronic equipment in the process. To protect at least one of our navigational tools from potential destruction, Manuela wrapped one of our handheld GPS’s in aluminum foil, and then placed it in the oven (faraday’s cage). But luck was with us, and we passed through the weather unharmed. The only casualty of the weather was our stop in Palmyra, since it didn’t seem advisable to enter a small, poorly marked (world war two) pass through a reef in near zero visibility. So on towards Samoa we went. Now the wind became light, variable, and very fickle. In such conditions, the windvane (autopilot) becomes nearly useless, so with much hand-steering and several sail-changes we managed to cross this light patch of 110 miles in two days. For the remaining 1200 miles to Samoa, the wind never seemed to be able to really make up its mind of what it wanted. So at times it blew hard, then disappeared completely, reappeared from dead astern, before swinging all the way to dead ahead. Seas went from calm to rough, and we learned that there is such a thing as going too fast. At 7.5 knots going against the prevailing large (9-12 foot waves), Argonaut would frequently climb up a wave, just to launch most of her 20,000 pounds off it into the air. Then, with the subsequent impact, she would shudder, vibrate, groan, and come to an almost complete stop. Yet, the next wave would approach, and without power Argonaut would not climb over it, but instead the wave would bury her bow and wash aft. Only slowly we’d build speed again, just to repeat this process a few minutes later. Apart from the potential to damage the boat through these repeated impacts, this crashing made sleeping (or going to the toilet for that matter ;-) just a bit difficult. With some reluctance (after all Argonaut is more of a racer than a cruiser) we reduced sail and slowed her down to 5 knots. All of the sudden the ride became friendly, if not smooth. We still had sufficient speed and power to climb the front of the waves, but not enough speed to launch us off their back sides. Cool. Some of the cool clouds As we progressed to within 1-2 days of Samoa, it became clear that we would arrive sometime Friday evening in Apia. Yet, entering an unknown harbor at night is the single most dangerous act (according to insurance statistics) one can undertake. Judging distances becomes difficult, and seeing waves rising and breaking on reefs near impossible. So once again we slowed Argonaut down, and made landfall Saturday morning. As is typical, government offices are closed on weekends, so we were not able to check in. Instead, we anchored in a designated zone in the harbor and hoisted the yellow Q-Flag, indicating that we were under quarantine. The next two days we spent watching life go on around us, unable to leave the boat. Probably the hardest thing was thinking of all those fresh vegetables that were just waiting for us. (Since we don’t have refrigeration on Argonaut, our veggies run out after 7-10 days of leaving land). Manu in the dinghy But Monday morning came soon enough, and we were directed to tie up at a large concrete pier and wait for the officials to arrive. There we waited for a couple of hours, before, in succession, individual or teams of inspectors from immigration, customs, health, agriculture, and the port authority arrived at the boat, each bringing forms to fill out, fees to collect, and inspections to make. None are in a particular hurry, and most are very aware of their status as important government representatives. As such, they enjoyed being offered coffee or tea as well as some snack. And only after some small talk, business proceeds. Having let go of our initial hope/expectation that this process would require only 1-2 hours, we had a wonderful time talking to and hosting the inspectors. By mid afternoon we were done and received permission to leave the dock, anchor, and then come on land. Wow. Fresh veggies and a fresh water shower (as opposed to salt water), here we come! We’ll write more about Apia and Samoa in a little, after we’ve seen and experienced a bit of this place. From what we’ve seen so far, the people are friendly, the country beautiful, and the infrastructure substantially better than we had expected. I think we’ll spend at least 2-3 weeks here. ‘til later…. Manu & Chris Christoph 3:47 PM