Samoa: "Home is the Sailor, Home from the Sea"

“No part of the world exerts the same attractive power upon the visitor [as the Samoan Islands].” -Robert Louis Stevenson

Talofa lava, dear friends and family,

We’re so excited to share with you the joy and respite we experienced in Samoa. Thank you for your patience.

Other sailors said the first South Pacific island we reach after a long voyage will always hold a special place in our hearts. They said we would remember the smells, the colors, the music, the gratitude that we survived, and the surreal feeling of stepping off the boat onto solid land for the first time for the rest of our lives. For most heading west, that’s somewhere in the Marquesas. For us, it will always be Samoa.

To truly explain what Samoa means to us, we have to go back a few years.

Samoa, 2016

When Dave and I were Lake Union liveaboards, our neighbor had sailed his boat from there to Fiji with his family; as his wife and daughter returned to work and school, respectively, he needed crew for the return trip. We volunteered for a leg of it: Fiji to Samoa. It would be a bash against the trade winds at the very tail end of the cyclone season. Our offshore experience at that time was weak. My understanding of seasickness and seasickness meds, even more so.

Unfortunately, the 2015-2016 cyclone season was a disastrous one. Cyclone Winston was the most horrific; a Category 5 cyclone that looped twice across Fiji, it was the strongest in recorded history in the Southern Hemisphere.

Fortunately for us, we arrived in Fiji after Winston passed through. But Winston was a disaster for the country, and the cascading cyclones that followed did little to put us at ease for the upcoming journey. Zena came through while we helped recommission the boat in the yard; Amos was upon us less than three days before we started on our passage.

On April 22, we left Savusavu and headed east. Amos had intensified to a Category 3 between us and our destination. Luckily, there was no threat of her turning back around; unluckily though, she left high, choppy, and confused seas in her wake.

It was a miserable first three days. To say I got seasick was an understatement. I was dehydrated-talking-to-dead-flying-fish-and-hallucinating-Dave-as-a-cartoon-character seasick. I wasn’t sure I was cut out for this seafaring life after all. I felt defeated.

But on the sixth day, there she was: Upolu Island, Samoa. Apia Harbour appeared so colorful, so welcoming, and so calm after such an ordeal. It was here that the tropics unraveled her beauty before us. Despite the less-than-optimal introduction to South Pacific sailing, Dave and I made a promise we would return here one day on our own boat. A few months later, we bought De Novo, our second liveaboard, and started fixing her up for extended cruising.

It was that promise, the promise of Samoa, that gave us hope when this dream seemed impossible.

Samoa, 2024

This year, the sailing to Upolu was perfect; it was the impromptu stop halfway, at Suwarrow, that created challenges. But as we approached Apia’s familiar harbor to check in, those challenges seemed insignificant. After our health and port authority inspection at anchor, we pulled into the rickety docks and felt a sense of homecoming among familiar grounds and cruising friends from Suwarrow and French Polynesia. We made it.

The two times I felt at my lowest as a sailor, there was Samoa, a healing salve for my soul. Both times, it reminded me we were exactly where we needed to be.

In 2016, we had to fly out to return to work only four days after we arrived, and we felt rushed to see everything we wanted to. This time, that wasn’t an issue. In fact, Dave would have all the time in the world.

Heading Home

Something I should mention: while in French Polynesia, we learned that our cat, Uma, was sick. Anyone who tells me Uma is just a cat, and therefore unimportant, clearly hasn’t met me…or Uma. My mom takes care of her while we sail outside of the US, and she continued to on her own as Uma developed a liver disorder and low-grade small cell lymphoma. This involved tube feeding for several days, ongoing prednisolone and anti-nausea medication, and at-home chemotherapy pills every two weeks. My mom was the hero for both us and Uma. By the time we arrived in Apia, Uma was thriving on the chemotherapy and finally starting to gain weight. She was starting to act like her little kitty self again.

I wanted to fly home to see Uma and help my mom, but the bureaucracy of French Polynesia was too difficult, and the flights were too expensive. Apia was the easiest and cheapest option. Dave held down the ~~fort~~ boat in Apia for the month I was gone.

There he snorkeled, learned the ins and outs of the town, worked on repairs on the boat, and enjoyed the pizza place and ice cream parlour across the street. Taxi drivers near the docks started to recognize the tall pālagi with the bushy beard. He frequented the hardware stores enough to be on a first-name basis with the cashiers. To all skippers who arrived while I was gone, Dave was the resident long-termer and a salty fixture at the docks. They’d come to him with questions, and Dave would dispense advice and recommendations like a sage. Even the marina manager started having Dave hand out and collect keys from boats that came and went.

Meanwhile, Uma was doing beautifully. As I left the US again, she entered remission, thank goodness. As of writing, she’s off medication and living her best kitty life once more.

Samoa, A Cruising Destination?

Most cruisers skip Samoa because it’s difficult to sail around in. There are arguably four or five good anchorages, but only one among them, Apia Harbour, is available to recreational boats by default. A cruising permit to explore the others can take weeks, money, and dumb luck, and cruisers are generally in and out of the country by then. Instead, most cruisers rent a car to see the islands from land. Also, it is a poorer country with less tourist infrastructure than other resort destinations in the South Pacific, so the country is often overlooked.

But it makes up for all of that in charm. Samoans are some of the kindest, most welcoming people we’ve met, rivaled only by Tongans. Food is inexpensive and excellent. With such a small market for tourism, locals still adhere to their traditional roots rather than the influence of western capitalism, so you don’t need to travel too far from Apia’s city center to feel a sense of “real Polynesia.”

Sure, the marina is rickety; the government wants to upgrade the breakwater before they repair the marina, but they don’t have the funds to do either yet. It is safe to stay there though. Also, the costs reflect the poor conditions of the docks (and surprisingly less expensive than their fee for anchoring!), so unlike any marina in French Polynesia, tying up for a month or more is completely affordable.

Taxis across town are the equivalent of $3 USD, or a walk through the neighborhoods is delightful. Rent a car and explore the numerous waterfalls swimming holes, and hikes. Pull over by a village on the way home as everyone stops working in their fields and starts swimming or playing volleyball. They will likely invite you to do either. Talk with the kids who wave at you emphatically so they can practice their English and their confidence. Each night, the male heads of each household will begin an umu, a meal in an underground pit.

Notes for sailors: We only had wonderful and friendly experiences with Samoan officials. However, it's worth mentioning that others felt the bureaucracy of entering the country by boat felt heavy handed this year. Due to a growing, new drug problem in the country, the officials assume that every boat could be bringing it in. They therefore search deep into every nook and cranny of your boat and ask invasive questions to make sure you are who you say you are. Smile and answer all questions honestly, regardless of how strange they are.

Also, if you sail to Samoa with your zarpe (exit paperwork from your last country) listing a country other than Samoa as your next destination, you could get in trouble. This was a problem for multiple sailors this year who left French Polynesia with the intention of going to the country of Niue but had to divert to Samoa for their safety due to storms. Officials looked at their diversion as suspect and put them in “boat jail” (confined to their boat for days) when they arrived. Knowing this, our friend who left after them and found himself in the same situation reached out for advice. We asked at the customs office, and they directed him to email the officials (see Noonsite for addresses) with his situation and provide a link to track his boat in real time. By letting them know ahead of time, our friend was not penalized at all. Likewise, when I flew in with boat parts, we avoided expensive import taxes by making a plan ahead of time with the department. Bottom line: if your situation is unique, contact them ahead of time and follow their lead.

Samoan Tips:

Talofa is an informal greeting, and Talofa Lava is an emphatic or formal greeting, depending on context. While it’s not essential, try to use the latter with officials and elders.
Fa'aaloalo, or respect, is a key tenet of Fa’a Samoa, or the Samoan way. Pālagis, or visitors, can show respect by covering our knees and shoulders in church or in the presence of officials or elders and taking off our shoes in official buildings and residences.
Everything in Samoa revolves around Aiga, or the family. It is a loose term that means the extended family, community, or even a small village. Samoans have thrived for millennia by adhering to the value of collective responsibility. It is considered an honor to share resources and serve others within the family or community.
Privacy is not a part of Fa’a Samoa. Falas, or Samoan homes, are laid out differently than they are in the US. While some falas have a small, indoor area for specific activities, the majority of home activities are done in a large oval or circular building with only columns and a roof, no walls. Walls are seen as unnecessary burdens, used to separate Samoans from their loved ones. If you stay with a family, be prepared to sleep, eat, and visit together with everyone in a fala.
Samoa is one of the most Christian nations in the world. It can feel strange to Westerners to see crosses in government offices and biblical scriptures airbrushed on public buses. Church services are a lovely way to meet locals and listen to the hymns. Unfortunately, religious influence has hindered women’s and LGBQIA+ rights in a society that was historically one of the most egalitarian. However, trans rights and identities–though not named as such–are still recognized and respected as evidenced by the vibrant Fa’afafine and Fa’afatama third gender communities. Gender has always been seen as a marker of personal identity in Polynesia, rather than aligned with biological sex. Try as they might, even church leaders can’t separate the idea of the third genders with Fa’a Samoa.
Tatau, or tattoos, are also very important to Fa’a Samoa. The process includes hammering the ink into the body and is much more painful than tattooing in the West. Tattoos vary depending on gender and responsibilities to one’s community and must be hard earned. It is considered offensive for Pālagis without strong ties to Samoa to get traditional Samoan tattoos.
Call Samoa “Samoa” or “Independent Samoa,” not “Western Samoa.” They changed their name from Western Samoa to the Independent State of Samoa (or simply Samoa) in 1997 to shed the remnants of their colonial past. German and New Zealand occupations were tougher times, and both locals and officials alike are proud of their self-governance.

Closing

When I returned to Apia, Dave and I had some time to enjoy Samoa on our own schedule. And we loved every day of it. Whether we were hiking into the mountains, chasing waterfalls, watching a dance at the cultural center or a rugby match at the stadium, walking through the large open air produce market, or scuttlebutting with friends at the docks, every day was a love affair with Samoa.

When we left Apia for the sail south to Tonga a couple weeks later, I loaded up my phone with Samoan songs so I could hold onto a feeling of Samoa a little longer on the passage. We arrived in Niuatoputapu, Tonga, 30 hours later, but it took my heart a few days longer to catch up.

Why did Samoa feel like a home away from home? It may be its familiarity. We felt nostalgia returning there, and we loved showing new sailing friends around. But more importantly, in both times, Samoa was a refuge. It was a gift we earned. If both passages there were baptisms by fire, Samoa was the sweet release, the pearly gates of the Southwest Pacific.

Songs that will make you feel like you’re in Samoa (all on Spotify):

Samoae Maopoopo Mai by Vaniah Toloa
Uso Song, by Alo Key
Pe A E Siva by Pacific Soul
Sulu i le Papa Gagala by Punialavas

Land-ho in Upolu

Arriving in Apia in 2016, with Jim from SV Apropros

Arriving in Apia in 2024 with SV De Novo

Cruisers from SV Vivaldi and SV Kiskadee (both pictured here) helped us when we lost our tackle in Suwarrow. We are forever grateful to them!

Taufusi Market
So much produce!

A common site everywhere in tropical markets: coconuts and bananas

We learned how to make our own plates the traditional way, out of coconut leaves

Dave helped cook an Umu. Breadfruit, taro, and fish were placed over the hot rocks, and then smothered with layers of leaves and fronds. Yum!

Papapapaitai Falls

The coastal walk at O Le Pupu-Pue National Park, also apparently the setting for many seasons of the Australian Survivor reality television show.

Togitogiga Waterfall

The community swimming hole at Togitogiga

To-Sua Ocean Trench, a favorite swimming hole of ours from both 2016 and 2024

Sopo'aga Falls

Holy fiddlehead fern!

Haka during Samoa Manu vs. Tonga Sipi Tau rugby match

Attending the Miss Samoa pageant because why not?
Samoa takes their pageants much more seriously than we do in the States.

The Teuila Festival, named after a special Samoan flower, revolves around the Miss Samoa Pageant. It's a sense of great pride for villages to be represented in the pageant, and villagers will come together to create floats and banners for their contestants. Generally, the winners have lived abroad (New Zealand, US, Australia, Canada, Hong Kong, etc.), who can fluently advocate for Samoa and secure grants for environmental, medical, or social causes affecting Samoa's population.

We were fortunate to meet a Samoan from New Zealand who explained the purpose and importance of these pageants to us.

Obligatory top-of-mast shots

A giant dwarfed by a giant

Robert Louis Stevenson's burial tomb, settled on the top of Mt. Vaee, his home. Stevenson and his wife, Fanny, traveled through the South Pacific and settled in what they considered most paradise, Upolu. He was there until his death in 1894.

He wrote his own inscription:
"Under the wide and starry sky
Dig the grave and let me lie;
gladly did I live and gladly die,
And I lay be down with a will.
This little verse you grave for me,
'Here he lies where he longed to be,
Home is the sailor, home from the sea
And the hunter is home from the hill'"