8 September 2014 Penrhyn to Apia, Samoa (Day 7)
By dawn, we'd lost the wind again, so we motored for a few hours, before managing to sail again - albeit at only three knots. With only 95 miles to go, we were in no great rush, having accepted that we would have another night at sea.
We had lovely sunny skies all day, but it was pretty boring - no wind, no ships, no fish, no boobies. By sunset, the wind had picked up a little, coming from the south as the trough progressed eastwards. There was a noticeable drop in the temperature because the wind was coming up from the colder south latitudes. It's funny how our brains are still tuned to a northern hemisphere way of thinking, where a south wind is always warmer and it's the wicked north wind that is cold.
Glenys rustled up egg, breadfruit chips, bacon and baked beans for dinner. She's really running out of food now. No vegetables (apart from one onion), no milk, no fresh fruit, no tinned fruit - not to mention no alcohol.
We had a pleasant, if slow, sail through the night, spotting the lights on the island around midnight. We continued sailing towards the main town of Apia and hove-to at three o'clock in the morning about three miles off the north shore of Samoa to wait for daylight.
We've crossed the International Date Line and lost a day of our lives, so instead of being Monday, it’s now Tuesday and this is only a six day week. The time zone has gone from UTC -11 to UTC +13, which means that instead of the UK being 11 hours ahead of us, it’s now 13 hours behind us. Well actually, the UK is 12 hours behind us because the UK has Daylight Savings Time and Samoa doesn't (I think). Confused? So are we.
10 September 2014 Penrhyn to Apia, Samoa (Day 8)
Glenys woke me up at seven o'clock and we tidied up the boat including stowing the spinnaker pole. I called up the Port Control and they gave us clearance to enter the harbour. We dropped anchor in Apia Harbour in 6 metres of water at eight o'clock. We anchored close to our friends Glen and Erie on “Sundance” and they gave us a little bit of local knowledge, mostly about the tedious clearing in process, which has taken some boats 2 or 3 days.
We weren't allowed to leave the boat until cleared in, so I called Port Control and told them that we were ready to start the clearance process. The first problem was that the Health Department didn't open until nine o'clock. I called again at quarter past nine and was told to go into the marina in our dinghy to pick up the officials - against the quarantine rules.
The marina is run by the Port Authority and there’s no office on site, just a security guard at the gate. He was a nice enough guy, but only spoke a little English, so it was a difficult to communicate. Eventually, I gathered that the Health officials had been called and I was to wait until they arrived. When? Shrug of shoulders.
To pass the time, I had wander along the single dock in the marina. There were only six cruising boats, but I knew four of them, so I chatted a while to find out more information about the place. After an hour, the Health officials turned up and I took them out to Alba in our dinghy. Samoans are not known for their svelte figures, so I found it amusing that the two large figures were balanced precariously on the side of our small dinghy looking very, very worried.
The formalities took 5 minutes - filling in two forms. They didn't go down below or inspect anything, so I don’t know why they bothered to come out. Anyway, they were very friendly and once again terrified when they had to get back in our dinghy.
Once ashore, the next step was to call the Port Control again on the radio and ask for the customs to come out. By this time, I realised that this was all very chaotic and I would be waiting about all day for officials, so I decided to go to the port office and clarify the procedure.
On the way, I noticed the customs office, so I went to ask them about the process. The customs officer initially told me off (in a nice way) for leaving the boat, but then gave me some forms and cleared me in - result! The customs officer then told me that the Quarantine office was right next door, so I wandered in there and asked about clearance.
Again, I was mildly reprimanded about being off the boat, but I just explained that I was confused and the Customs had told me to go there. I could see a group of officers hanging about chatting in the back of the office and, after a bit of light banter, one of them had obviously lost a bet because he came over and accompanied me back to the marina.
As we were walking along the road, the officer told me that I had broken the regulations and that I would have to be penalised. I shrugged and said okay. He then said that, as it was lunchtime, my penalty was to provide him with lunch. Amused, I told him that was no problem. However, we didn't have any fresh food left on-board, but my wife should be able to scrape something together out of a tin. He then switched tack and said that maybe I could buy him lunch ashore. I truthfully told him that I didn't have a single Tala on me and couldn't get any until I was cleared in, at which point he gave up.
At the marina, he asked me to point out my dinghy. Having seen the small size of it and after considering his large 18 stone frame, he announced that, as a favour to me, he would do the clearance in the marina security shed. Five minutes later, I was all sorted out. Now all I had to do was to get immigration. I walked back to the Port Office, but Clare, the lady who handles yachts was at lunch.
I went back to Alba and grabbed a bite to eat, while trying to call the Port Control on the VHF, who was obviously at lunch as well. Eventually, Port Control came back and told me to go ashore immediately, to pick up the Immigration, but when I got there nobody knew anything. After waiting another 30 minutes, I decided to go back to the Port office, where I met Clare. She was extremely, helpful, rang the Immigration and then told me I would be better off going into town to the Immigration Office and I should ask for a lady called Naomi.
After going back to the boat to collect Glenys, we walked the mile into town and found the Immigration office. The reception area was crowded with locals sat patiently waiting and a huge crowd jostling for position at the enquiry counter behind which stood a harassed gentleman. I took one look at the scene and realised that we could be in there for hours. I then remembered that someone in the marina had told me that there was a back door into the Immigration office.
We wandered around the building, climber some steps and found a door with a big sign saying “Staff Only. No Unauthorised Persons.” I tried the door and it opened with a loud screech. We stepped inside and an immigration officer came over to see what we were doing. I explained that Clare from the Port Office had told us to come here to see Naomi.
At my name dropping, he gave us a couple of seats at a desk and went off to find Naomi.
Naomi arrived a minute later and looked surprised because she obviously didn't recognise us, but she soon recovered and showed us into a nice air-conditioned room, where we filled in a few forms and were finally cleared in. It took six hours, which isn't too bad considering that I lost two hours because of lunchtime.
After getting some Talas from a cash machine, we walked around town a little, but we were starting to feel very tired, so we gave up and went to buy some groceries. We only bought enough to last a couple of days and grabbed a taxi back to the marina, which only cost US$2.50 - taxis are cheap here.
Back on the boat, we cracked open a beer, had a steak and collapsed into bed.
11 September 2014 Apia, Samoa
After a lie-in, we did a few chores, dropped a big bag of international garbage for Quarantine to dispose of, took a form into Clare at Port Office and dropped off two huge bags of laundry. Having walked into town, we split up and I wandered aimlessly around the streets checking out the many small shops.
Apia is not much different to most small towns, but the thing immediately grabbed my attention was that many of the men were wearing Lava Lavas (sarongs) which is something that we haven’t seen yet. The standard business wear appears to be lava lava's made from plain grey or black material, while brightly patterned material is worn more casually - even the policemen wear dark blue lava lavas.
I met up with Glenys at lunch time at Fish Market and we had fish and chips there. They use Tuna instead of a white fish, which is a bit weird battered, but okay. The fish market and the artisan market are next to the main bus terminal, which was busy with people crowding onto the garishly painted buses.
Glenys went her own way, while I checked out some of the hardware stores and finally managed to buy some more cans of refrigerant, so I'm a happy bunny. I picked up the laundry on the way back and then chilled out for the rest of the afternoon finishing off a novel.
12 September 2014 Apia, Samoa
Glenys went into town to keep out of my way while I did some jobs. I first topped up the fridges again - the food fridge seems to only have a tiny leak, but the drinks fridge seems to be getting worse. I might be able to find the leak now…
I then tackled the cooker gimbal. The cooker is supported by two stainless steel pins, so that it can swing while we are at sea. These are only 5mm diameter and one of them has sheared off. It’s another example of the poor design and manufacture of our expensive Eno cooker, which cost us $1200US three years ago.
I lifted the cooker out of its slot in the galley and took the side panel off. The gimbal pin is pressed into the sheet metal side panel and has a 16mm diameter retaining disk, so it wasn't a simple case of replacing just a pin. There’s only 8mm clearance at either side of the cooker, so I had to come up with some way of replicating the broken part.
Eventually, after a lot of head scratching, I designed a small stainless steel part which would allow me to drill out the old part and bolt the new part into the side panel. I made a technical drawing of the part and went ashore to see if I could find a machine shop. I first asked the taxi drivers if they knew the location of a machine shop and, after lots of offers to drive me around town (at a high cost of course), one of them pointed me to Samoa Ship Services only two hundred yards along the road.
The supervisor of the machine shop was very helpful, but they were set up with machines to make very large parts for commercial ships - their lathe was 20 foot long. He’s told me to go to the Polytechnic and ask for Fonoia, who apparently is the only person in town with a small lathe and the skill to make my part - that will be my mission on Monday.
Back on board, I ground off the old gymbal pin and carefully drilled a 5mm hole in the side panel. I then drilled through the old retaining disk and inserted a 5mm bolt, grinding the head flush with the retaining disk. After bolting it to the side panel and reassembling the cooker, I should now be able to drop the cooker back in place, but that’s a job for tomorrow.
In the evening, we went out for an Indian curry at a restaurant just up the road from the vegetable market opposite the Gardener Joe supermarket. It was tasty, spicy and hot - our first curry for over a year and we might be going back.
13 September 2014 Apia, Samoa
I put the cooker back together and sorted out the electric ignition which hasn’t worked for two year. I dropped the cooker into place on the gimbal and my little bodge job looks good, so I won't bother to get the part made here and have added it to my list of jobsfor New Zealand, which is getting very large now.
In the afternoon, I went ashore and paid an outrageous $12 US to have 2 hours of internet access. Glenys wandered into town - she is maxing out on shopping after six weeks abstinence. She took her Pipi pearls into a jeweller to get them mounted on earring studs and had a gold clasp mounted on a nice Pupu that I’d polished back in Penrhyn. She came back with a whole more groceries, re-stocking her cupboards.
In the evening, we went to happy hour and met Fabio and Lisa from “Amandla”; Thomas and Annette from "Anke Sophie" and Sandy from “Westward”. There are only about eight cruising boats in the whole country and we’re gradually getting to know them all.
14 September 2014 Apia, Samoa
Being a Sunday, we went to church to check out the Samoan singing. We chose the very impressive Catholic church, which dominates the sea front overlooking the harbour. The tourist office told us that the service started at nine o'clock, but the church was packed and in the middle of a service when we got there at twenty minutes to nine.
It was very disappointing. The service was a typical Catholic high mass, with lots of ritual chanting interspersed with grandiose organ playing (Da da da DAAA!) The singing was ritualistic with a very European sound - no Polynesian close harmonies here. Thankfully, the service ended at nine o'clock, so we only had to endure twenty minutes.
Back on the boat, we spent the morning reading. We've been in Samoa for four days so far and haven’t seen very much of the country, so we did some planning. Glenys read up on the touristy things to see around Samoa, while I read up on the few anchorages in Samoa.
There are two islands that make up the independent country of Samoa - Upolu, the island that we’re currently on and the slightly larger Savai’i to the west. Both of the islands are about 40 miles long, but there are only 3 or 4 places to anchor. There’s a nice looking anchorage on the far western end of Savai’i, but it would put us 60 miles further west of here and would make our passage to the north islands of Tonga much harder. It’s 180 miles to Niuatoputapu, and 20 degrees will make all the difference, so we don't think that we'll bother to go to any other anchorages.
In the evening, we had Paul and Helen from “Tai Mo Shan” over for a beer or two. They’re from New Zealand, so we picked their brains about the best places to visit when we get there.