Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
cleaner. They appreciate visitors a lot more, and take a great pride in their island of Apia,
final home of the renowned author, Robert Louis Stevenson. His majestic plantation styled
house is situated in Upolu, behind Apia, and he spent his last days on his own “treasure
island.”
On our return to the harbor after seeing the rather tired town, we decided to pop in to the
Pago Pago bar, situated on the waterfront overlooking the harbor. It was happy hour and
the old wooden pub was full and noisy. There were people from the fisheries, sailors from
the visiting boats, tourists, and locals all adding to the cheerful hubbub. Gavin was thrilled
to see so many women about, not all of which had his interests at heart.
Dave and Sue, the English couple that had helped us arrive, were there at a table and
beckoned us over. We carried our beers over and joined them. This was one of the pleasures
of cruising: meeting new faces over an ice cold beer in a quaint, old pub. An enormous wo-
man with an enormous smile handed out free snacks of barbecued chicken wings, known
as Buffalo Wings. They were spicy hot and, as one would correctly presume, another cold
beer would put out the flames!
Dave was a very mild-mannered man, thin, wiry, and ever so pale. One wondered how he
managed to be so white and slight while managing a forty-foot catamaran around the trop-
ics. Sue, on the contrary, was quite tubby, brown as a berry, and had the sweetest nature.
She positively poured out goodwill; she was a honey and very popular amongst the cruis-
ers.
I asked Dave about engine spares, and he was not very optimistic. “I dunno mate; you
might be looking for the impossible here,” he said rather doubtfully. “That's quite a spe-
cialized spare, the valve spring, an' also being a Japanese motor, good luck though.” He
shook his head slowly.
We were given permission to keep Déjà vu on the jetty for a few days while we sorted out
the engine. I hunted through town looking for the engine spares. Dave was right; it was be-
ginning to look impossible, and nobody seemed to be able to help or care. On the third day
I had my home-made plapps (my sandals) stolen from the dock outside the boat. I decided
to take this as a compliment, although both Gavin and Penny felt that they had been taken
away with the trash by the refuse man.
Gavin and Penny went off with a bunch of bags and baskets to do a whole lot of grocery
shopping for our extended stay in Tonga, and I set off in the opposite direction determined
to find a valve spring. Hell, if I could find one on a deserted island I sure as hell could find
one in a built-up fishing town with American stores and boats!
