Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“Mmm, actually this is quite tasty; what happened?” she continued, cynically.
“I'll tell you what would have happened if you hadn't eaten every last morsel, young lady!”
I said, with a trace of a smile.
“What's that?” she said, cocking her head on the one side in a gesture that yelled out “ho
hum.”
“I would have spanked your botty is what would have happened!”
“Oh really!” she said openly grinning now, “Promises, promises!”
I could tell the food trick was working, and disaster was once again avoided! (Penny got her
spanking, a little later on in the evening.) Ironically, the wind returned, and peace reigned
again on the good ship Déjà vu. Stewed turkey, hmmm, there must be something in it. I
wondered if it was a secret aphrodisiac. I know mushrooms are, and red wine the morning
after definitely is.
We were nearing Pago Pago and I wanted to make sure that Gavin and Penny, and I es-
pecially, could maneuver Déjà vu together under sail in a tight, little harbor, now that the
engine was dead. I explained my concerns to them as I came about one morning. The wind
had shifted during the night, and the self-steering system had faithfully steered us in the
wrong direction, taking its steering cue from the prevailing wind. I will 'fess up here; I was
on watch during this time and failed to see the shift in the compass.
I studied the chart of American Samoa and the entrance to Pago Pago. This snug, well-pro-
tected harbor was rented by the U.S. Government for around ninety million dollars a year.
It harbored their huge tuna fishing and canning operation and employed several hundred
local Samoans. Being basically an American run island, it was an excellent stopover for
cruisers as it had well stocked supermarkets at very reasonable prices. We were en route to
Tonga to hole up for the duration of the hurricane season in the South Pacific, and it was
very important for us to visit Samoa and provision up before our three month stay in the
big lagoon in Vava'u.
The chart showed that there was, naturally, a rock in the middle of the approach into Pago
Pago harbor. Whale rock, submerged, but that would break in bad weather, according to
the chart. We had to be on the lookout for that. Once beyond the hazardous rock, we would
then have to make a dog's leg to the west and sail down to the small boat harbor where we
would make our way to the visitor's jetty in order to clear customs. This all seemed child's
play on a chart, but I had a hunch that the reality of the situation would be a lot more daunt-
ing to a sailboat with no engine and limited sea room.
