I am planning to write about the adventures I have had and this is the first part of my story. I will in time start from the beginning as my life has been one big adventure covering all modes of transport and in some cases lifestyles.
The first story is about my adventures sailing the Pacific.
Adventure in the South Pacific.
It all started when I raced on the yacht “Bacardi” in the inaugural Sydney to Suva yacht race to Fiji in May 1976. Bacardi is a 43’ Peter Cole designed Sloop. I originally dropped in to ask John Gould who owned Middle Brighton motors to sell my car as I was going to ride my Suzuki 750 motorbike to Western Australia with some mates, but he gave me an alternative, “how about sailing to Fiji”. I had 30 minutes to make up my mind as he was about to submit the crew list. A friend once said about me, that if I said I was going to travel west they knew I would out of the blue head east. Seemed like a good idea so 3 weeks later I was sailing Bacardi from Sandringham yacht club to Sydney where the race started.
Bacardi had 2 owners John Gould & Bill Rockliff. When we left Sydney Bill was skipper as John had work requirements although he was able to be in Sydney to see us off and gave us a “Bullet Proof” spinnaker guaranteed not to blow out, I hope it was a good guarantee as we handed it back in pieces. Ten crew raced Bacardi to Fiji and I was 23 years old and the youngest. Ten days after leaving Sydney and one cyclone later we ended tenth day on the last lap in the race to cross the finish line into Suva Fiji. Vittoria owned by Lou Abraham the only yacht in the race with the same handicap as Bacardi appeared on the horizon. Lucky for us we were the closest to the island as we ran along the Fiji coast, but one wrong sail change would make a big difference. It was a great way to finish a race as after the first night we all lost sight of each other and here we were neck and neck heading to the finish line with spinnakers flying. Thankfully we finished ahead of Vittoria and came second to cross the line and second on handicap. As I jumped onto the docks to tie up I was met with a waiter carrying a tray of Bacardi & Coke so with a glass of rum & coke in one hand, I tied us up and thought “this is what I call racing”. In time I did graduate to a real yacht’y sailor’s drink Bundaberg Rum “aaaaagh nothing like a good Dark Rum me hearties”. The crew of Bacardi preferred to drink at the Royal Suva yacht club. I decided I can drink with Australians at lots of yacht clubs so instead I went to the local Bali Hi Nightclub where they played some great music. When I entered there was a large queue of Fijians and they all kept waving me forward and when I got to the nightclub entrance I paid and was let straight in. This was the first time I had been in to a nightclub in Fiji and at first glance it looked empty then I realised I was the only white person and was ushered to the bar where a dude came over and introduced himself and he yelled to the barman 2 beers “he will pay” pointing at me. Then he clapped his hands and I had 2 women sitting one on each knee. It took a while before they believed I was a poor yacht’y bum and then it all changed and I was taken over to a table with other Fijians and was treated like normal. It was a great night until a couple of the women started arguing and one picked up a beer bottle and smashed it over the other women’s head I immediately jumped out of the commotion and the bouncers came over and picked up the women who got hit on the head and threw her out. Then I was called back to the table to party on. They were all really nice people and they invited me to their home the next day. When I arrived, there was a lot of tension. It seems the women who was hit on the head was being exorcised and they kicked everyone out but I was told I could stay. Then the head priest women doing the exorcism went out to get stronger medicine and I was asked if I would like to go into the room which I accepted. When in the room a large crowd of women were around the bed and a girl was lying on the bed and when she saw me she yelled out “David, David save me save me” I sat down next to her and asked what was happening as there were 4 big Fijian women holding her arms and legs down. She then told me how the women thought she had the devil in her and because she was out every night at the nightclubs and not coming home to care for her kids. When the head Priestess women came back they asked me to help them while they made her drink a concoction of herbs and stuff. I had a taste and it wasn’t pleasant, so I said I will wait outside in the lounge room. The girl (Sofia) was very small compared to the women holding her and as I got up to leave she flicked them away like they were feathers and then all the women jumped on her. Afterwards they all came into the lounge room and a short while later Sofia came out and she was like a different person I was fascinated so had a long conversation and listened to her explaining about how she had been bad not caring for her young children.
During this time, we did a bit of touring around the island of Fiji and even sailed over to Beqa island known as the home of the fire-walkers. When asked to spend the night in the village of the fire walkers I jumped at the chance, only one other crew member decided to come with me. So John and I went ashore and were treated to a night in the Chiefs Hut drinking Kava. Kava is a drink that is made by pounding the Kava root into a powder then mixing it in water. You then follow the ceremony and drink it all down in one gulp then giving 3 manly claps and screw your face up (showing how strong and bitter it is) after each drink. At first, it makes your tongue go numb then the next drink your jaw and mouth feel like you have been to a dentist as it is all numb after a few more your whole body feels very relaxed. I thought it bad manners to leave early but later on realised it had turned into a drinking competition. I was escorted back to the hut and my bed was as hard as a cement block, but I was that numb from Kava it felt like the comfiest bed I had ever slept on.
On our last night in Suva, the yacht club put on a big Fijian party. It was here I met Ric Martini the skipper of Serenity who is from America. I asked Ric if he would like to attend a send-off party that my Fijian friends were organizing for me when they finished work, which he accepted. I introduced him to the Bal Hi nightclub. When it closed we went to the party which was being held on the roof of their home. I was really taken aback by the affection they gave me. Maria was wearing a new dress she had ordered from New Zealand and arrived that day. Later on, they asked me the size of my mother and I said she is about Maria’s size not thinking much about it, later on, they all gave me presents I was given a shirt and so I gave them mine. Then one of the kids came up and gave me a Banana Leaf Hat he had woven for me. Then I was given a parcel and told to give it to my mother and it was Maria’s new dress and they insisted I take it. It was an amazing send off by people I had only known for a couple of weeks. I also bid farewell to Ric, not expecting to meet up again as it is a big ocean.
We sailed Bacardi from Suva to Port Vila then down to Lifou Island and eventually Ile of Pines then on to Noumea.
When sitting in Noumea I saw Ric’s yacht Serenity pull up near us so I went over and greeted him and the following day we both crawled around the engine fixing a problem it had. Ric was the brains and I was the person getting covered in grease and oil. We became good friends and when we left we swapped details in case we caught up in Australia or further travels.
In the time between catching up again I sailed Bacardi to Gladstone and walking down the street and met Stuart Clark, a friend from Portland who was working in Gladstone and since I was running low on funds I took up his offer of work and a place to stay. Also Bacardi was heading south into winter and I was liking the tropical weather. The job was a powder monkey drilling holes and plugging them with Dynamite and blowing up stuff. It was great fun. At the end of the Contract I went to catch a train to Sydney but it didn’t leave until after lunch so I went for a look down at the wharf and met a family who had sailed over from New Zealand which took them over 28 days and his wife said there was no way she was sailing back and so asked me if I would help sail the yacht back to NZ. But first, they were sailing up the coast stopping at every island resort along the way to Cairns. How could I refuse?
The funny part is, I had this premonition of doom but knew that I would survive but I wasn’t sure about everyone else, so since I survived it seemed like a good idea. Cruising along the coast stopping at every island resort meant every night was a party it was great. By the time we got to Cairns, I told them I would not continue due to all the stupid mistakes they made and risks they took. Roy’s wife pleaded with me and said they would get someone else as well so I said “OK”. Turns out the guy they picked had never really sailed before but made out he had. I will admit I was glad to see him go when we reached NZ. Roy was the owner and Ray was the navigator then me and Whatsisname. We left Cairns and sailed out through Woods Passage turning right and heading for Noumea. One night I woke up thinking I wanted to go to the toilet and once on deck noticed the helm had been tied up and I thought he must have gone below to make a coffee. I stood on deck to have a pee and thought the moon is bright tonight as it was glowing really strong on the water. Then I realised there was no moon and that I was looking at a sandbar and breaking water. I looked forward and could see white water everywhere, I yelled out and untied the wheel and when Ray got on deck said takeover I will climb the mast and when I did I noticed we had sailed into a horseshoe reef and if we had gone to starboard would have smashed into the reef so quickly yelled turn to PORT Left Left…… which Ray did and we wriggled our way out of it. Turns out it was Flinders reef and Ray said we should have missed it by a mile or 2 and because he was tired he tied the wheel and went below for a sleep. From then on I insisted when on watch you did not go to sleep. We were also in a Shipping lane and with no one at the helm, it’s only asking for trouble.
We finally made it to Noumea and it was Roy’s job to fill up the diesel tanks and gas bottles etc. Four days later we set off and Roy & Ray wanted to go to the Isle of Pines but I said we would not make it in daylight and to stop at an island closer which is also nice and has good anchorage. Later on, I went below for a sleep and since I always sleep well went into a deep sleep. Then I was woken up to help them get into the Isle of Pines. I noticed it was dark and asked why we didn’t stop at the island I had suggested and was told it was such a beautiful day and they were making such good time that they thought they would make it to Isle of Pines before it got dark. Having been to Ilse of Pines about 3 months ago and using my memory and smelling the coral I guided us through the reefs into the bay near the resort to anchor. The entrance had no beacons or lights just the resort lights which I used and almost didn’t see the barge parked with no lights in front of us. How we missed hitting it amazes me as it was so huge, close and painted black.
After a couple of days, we headed off to Norfolk Island. The weather had turned nasty and was completely overcast with rough seas. From Cairns we had clear blue skies and a very light tailwind and light seas, so we mainly motor sailed. The distance from Cairns to Noumea was almost the same distance as from Noumea to NZ. After a few days, we gave up looking for Norfolk Island as it wasn’t where it was supposed to be so we kept heading for NZ. Most of our food was frozen so we ran the engine to keep the freezer working. When it started to splutter we checked the fuel and found we were empty. Roy said because we only used ½ a tank on the way to Noumea and it’s the same distance to NZ why pay the expensive price for fuel. This meant the freezer stopped working and the food was thawing out. We decided to cook a bit up before it started going off.
After a while, the gas bottle stopped so we swapped it over only to hear Roy say 8 people used 2 bottles why pay extra for the gas in Noumea when one should do 4 of us going to NZ. Now we were stuck with no way to cook the thawing meat and frozen veggies or even have a hot cup of coffee or tea. We did have a few cans of spaghetti and baked beans which I didn’t mind eating cold but Ray the navigator could not stomach even if cooked. We thought we were only a few days from NZ so should be ok.
Early one morning I came up to take my turn at the helm and asked Roy what course we were on. He said the course but when I looked at the compass he was 100 degrees off so I asked again and he said it as before. I said what does the compass say to you, he looked squinted then said the course. I then insisted he read the compass to me and after getting up close he admitted he can’t read the compass at night but didn’t tell anyone because he wanted to do his share on the helm. Later we found he could hardly read the compass even in daylight. Since the sky was completely overcast we could not take a Sun, Star or even a moon sighting so we were relying on Dead Reckoning and to do this you had to plot the direction and how long you were on the direction for and the distance traveled. With Roy just keeping the sails filled and the boat running at a good speed in whatever direction this meant we were totally lost.
We decided on where we thought we were and headed off but after a couple of days still no better off until we picked up a NZ radio station and realised we were a lot further west than we thought so kept a strong signal and headed in that direction to NZ. Ray wasn’t feeling too good by now as he had not eaten and the thought or watching people eat Spaghetti made him sick. The following day we noticed a cargo vessel crossing across our bow and this got me curious because if it was coming from NZ why would it be on that course. When I plotted its direction I stated we have missed NZ and that the ship was coming from Tasmania and is either heading for the bottom of the north or South Island and that we need to turn around and head in the same direction. This came up with a few objections but since no one would make a decision I turned the boat around and found another radio station and set our course. The next day we hit the coast of the North Island and after a while spotted a couple of fishing boats and when one came close we hailed him for some hot water and had a great cup of tea I didn’t realise how much I appreciated a hot drink of tea. Not long later we heard a bulldozer working so we anchored and me and Whatsisname rowed ashore and bought a couple of jerry cans of fuel off him to run the engine to get into port, which we eventually did. After passing through customs Whatsisname departed and Roy, Ray and I did a slow sail with some fun stop’s along the way to Auckland.
In Auckland, I lived on board Lee Breeze fixing and cleaning it up. I had intended to hitch a ride aboard a yacht heading to Australia for the Sydney to Hobart, but this year they were holding the inaugural Auckland to Suva yacht race and no one was going to Australia. This would have been a problem as I had no money for airfare. Lucky for me I was in the Panmure yacht club talking to a guy who said he knew a guy and before you know it I had a berth on the only yacht going to the Sydney to Hobart yacht race from New Zealand.
Peter and Ray Kingston owned “Rocky” a 37’ Farr design racing yacht and needed a delivery crew and I was lucky to get a berth with 3 other Kiwi guys. We stocked up and a few days later sailed from Auckland and then cleared customs at Waitangi and set off to Sydney. The other crew members were great fun to sail with and all went well until almost, exactly halfway to Sydney we had a storm. The waves were higher than telegraph poles but Rocky handled it well. At 2.30am I got up to do my watch and was told the storm had eased off and to take the leeboards out to let some fresh air get below. I had not been at the helm long when I heard a wave breaking and as I was already rising up a wave and couldn’t see over it mainly because it was also pitch black but I still couldn’t see any white water so I wasn’t too worried.
Then in a matter of seconds a massive amount of water hit me from behind and tipped the boat over and if I had not been wearing my safety harness I would have been washed overboard. After what seemed like ages Rocky flipped back up and a voice yelled out from below “Are you still there?” I yelled back “Yes,” Then they yelled, “Do we still have a mast and sails?”. Water was dripping down from everywhere as I looked up and saw the mast was intact and as the boom had been released, I didn’t realise at first then noticed the main was still attached and sails were all OK so I yelled back “YES!” The reply came back “Well keep going then”. That was the longest watch I have ever done. The next day was completely different. We had no wind at all and eventually the sea calmed down and we ended up in the doldrums for 2 days. We worked out the rogue wave rolled us over 95 degrees because when the person I relieved went below he had his back against the mast and when we rolled over he slid headfirst up the mast landing on the roof hitting his head, then fell back down when we became upright. At the same time with the leeboards out, water poured in through the hatch waking the 2 sleeping. The one sleeping in the aft bunk said he will have nightmares about the water pouring in and over him for ages.
The water also killed our engine and radios so we could not let anyone know what had happened to us and 2 days later we were in the doldrums, no wind at all. So what do you do? Well, it seems we had the booze supplies on board for the racing crew when they arrived in Sydney, “Had” was the right word. Two funny days later when we had wind again the boat was a lot lighter and we were all in good spirits.
When we finally arrived in Sydney the delivery crew went their separate ways but I was asked if I would like to be in the race as they were a crew member short. I quickly said yes! Racing in a Sydney to Hobart is a sailors dream and has to be done to be believed. The preparation and preliminary races had everyone on a high. I caught up with my old crew on Bacardi and since we were the only NZ yacht in the race there was lots of banter and Aussie humour. The start of the race is truly exhilarating with over 100 yachts trying to get the best starting position, twisting and turning and challenging each other and testing the rules by shouting “Give way to Starboard” and the reply “STEEL” and them getting the reply “INSURED” … Eventually, we all get out in one piece and the race begins in earnest with the larger boats getting into lead position. Farr, who designed Rocky, used everything in his design to make it a racing yacht to be respected and we were doing really well. The main weapon though is the sailors, as it takes a lot out of you to be in racing mode day and night. Since most of the crew only sail on weekends they don’t really have their sea legs and going below to eat or cook food makes them even worse. Luckily for me, I had my sea legs, also a healthy appetite and since we were heading south it was getting colder so I was quite happy to volunteer to be the cook, which can be pretty challenging in a rough sea crossing the Bass Strait. The crew loved the food and were in good health to work the long hours and soon we were down near Tasman Is. With the decision to cut in close or take a wide berth. The wind was almost none existent so we cut in close to catch the coastal breeze. Our closest challenger went wide and lucky for them because the breeze picked up out from the coast, and carried them into a 15-minute lead which we could not make up. We ended up 7th across the line but on handicap 15 minutes away from winning the race. Everyone was very excited about coming second and so the partying in Hobart was full on. Especially since the publican was a Kiwi at the “Quiet Drink”. (Because you drink so much Cascade beer you can’t talk the next day). After the race, I bid farewell to the crew even though Peter had asked me if I would sail Rocky back to NZ. I made my way back to Melbourne. When I arrived home in Portland I needed to work for a while as I only had a few dollars left.
This was when I received a letter from Ric Martini who was in America and had left his yacht Serenity in Brisbane, Queensland. He asked if I would be interested in helping him with his Smithsonian contract tagging whales and Dugongs, sailing Serenity up to the Bismarck Archipelago. All I needed was booze money! After a few months corresponding by mail (no internet in those days) I had been working and saved a few dollars so I traveled to Melbourne and then headed to Brisbane by train. As usual for me, I have friends in Melbourne and Sydney who wanted to give me long party send-off’s and since I loved to party. I missed the train in Sydney so was in fine spirits when I arrived in Brisbane. When Ric arrived in Brisbane he told me that they didn’t have the Smithsonian contract anymore. He and his sailing partner Russell Nelson had been given a 92’ Brigantine “Varua”… (which means soul or spirit in Tahitian) previously owned and built by sailing author W.A. Robinson who had written some great sailing books one being “ To the Great Southern Ocean”. Varua was in Pago Pago America Samoa being rebuilt. The intention was to repair it and then sail to New Zealand and Australia doing marine research and would I like to come on that trip? This sounded like my sort of adventure so I said: “yes it sounds great”.
Before leaving Brisbane we invited the owners and staff who on hearing about our adventures made us feel very welcome at their restaurant to a party aboard Serenity which is only a 37’ Caroline Ketch. We had 50 guests make it quite a party. The next day due especially to the daughter of the chief of police falling overboard we thought it would be a good time to depart. When we left Brisbane I checked my finances and I only had $200.00 and thought that would buy me a lot of booze and I thought “No Worries She’ll be right”! Ric did warn me that the Caroline Ketch was renowned for its slow speed and pointing capabilities into the wind were 90 degrees. It was also known that they were very seaworthy and that you will arrive at your destination, but you may die of starvation before arriving. Luckily for me, Ric had made sure we had lots of provisions.
That is why my sailing Nickname is the “The Gannet”.
(A bird that can eat a lot of food) ………….. (I have many nicknames)
Since there was only the two of us we decided that 2.5 hours on and off watch would be more manageable. A couple of days out we ended up in a cyclone with the wind blowing our wind meter over its limit of 70 knots and the rain came down that hard it hurt your head. The sea was blown flat so we had no big waves. We decided to put up the storm rig and point it into the wind, tie the helm, and head below deck. Since there wasn’t much to do except wait it out, I thought it would be a good time to get some sleep so quickly jumped into a bunk and went to sleep. I didn’t know that Ric wrote stories and used a Dictaphone and when full he would send it to a friend to type up in the USA. I found out when I eventually visited friends in New College, Sarasota, Florida, USA. Everyone knew me as “The Mad Aussie”. It seems that the tape Ric made while in the storm was listened to by everyone at New College, and he referred to me while the noise of the storm battered the boat that they should listen to this “Mad Aussie” and the tape had the sound of me in a deep sleep snoring, Thanks Ric!!!
Because of the cyclone, we had good strong westerly winds which were taking us on a straight course to Samoa. Then the wind pattern went back to its normal direction, Easterly. Due to the great pointing attributes of Serenity, we then had to almost head due south to catch the westerlies which in our case was almost to New Zealand. Eventually, we did head east and were then able to sail north. During this time, we stood our watch and didn’t really spend a lot of time together as on your time off you caught up on sleep, cooked, ate and read. When we did spend time together the conversation was always stimulating (for me anyway). One day we caught a dolphin fish and watched the amazing colour changes as we brought it on board. I felt it a pity to have killed such a work of art. We did pay it a good tribute, it was delicious. One day we were discussing what sails we could put up and since it was a light downwind breeze decided to see if we could put all the sails up. It looked spectacular! The sails took a while to put up so we knew pulling them down would take as long. That is when we noticed the tanker on a collision course with us. I tried to get the sails down but Ric realised we were not going to be quick enough and so he hit (I think it was his invention) the switch and a strobe light at the top of the mast came on and to this day I have never seen a tanker turn as quickly as this one did. I reckon the helmsman had gone for a coffee, came back and saw a strobe light flashing and thought it was a reef and reacted instinctively turning the helm. The best news is we passed safely but I bet he is still cursing us. On the morning of the 22nd day Ric said we should see an island off to our right and sure enough there it was. I was very impressed with his Navigation skills, as this was the first landfall we had seen since leaving Australia.
This meant that the next day we would be in Tonga and so you can imagine what the boat looked and smelt like after 22 days at sea, so we decided to spend the majority of our time off cleaning everything before we arrived. The following morning, we saw Tonga on the horizon the worst part was the wind was blowing directly from that direction, so we had to start making lots of tacks to head towards Tonga. At one point towards the end of the day as the sun was going down we were deciding if we should just stay offshore and wait till tomorrow to head in. We then saw a pilot boat taking a ship out and thought we could follow it in. Easier said than done but by then we were past the no return point and as we watched the pilot boat roar away from us at a great speed it was too late to change our mind, we were committed. Tonga doesn’t repair its broken pilot lights, least not the day we arrived, and when we realized it was like sailing blind, I got the stick out to tap our way through the reef channel. We finally picked a light we knew and headed towards it only to find it was a marker for a reef which due to Ric’s quick reaction we missed by inches. Then we found a buoy just off the main wharf and tied up for the night only to be yelled at by natives on the wharf saying not that one and pointed to another so we moved. At 11:20pm after 23 days of sailing, we were finally moored and cooked ourselves a great feed which we ate and then decided on rice pudding for dessert. We also made two drinks called “Velvet Hammers” because after you drink it a little man crawls up your shoulder and taps you on the head and puts you to sleep. We woke with the cabin full of smoke and the Boiled RICE burnt to a crisp. After quickly putting the burnt pot outside, we decided sleep was more important. The following morning, I stood up and stretched looking out the porthole to my right then looked left. The left had Blue sky the right had fog which was weird and when I climbed on deck I saw why. The cruise ship Oriana had pulled in next to us and tied up on the first buoy we were told not to use. We were so sound asleep we heard nothing. Later on we headed into the local mooring and tied up. A marine officer approached us and grabbed a line for us then said he had to go and we both asked why he couldn’t clear us to enter thinking he was a Customs officer. It turns out he was an officer of the Oriana the cruise ship and said if we would like a hot shower to come and see him and we can have one on board. We had to go to the wharf to clear customs which we did then went aboard the Oriana. After 23 days at sea, I never realised how relaxing a hot shower could be. I was in heaven. After we were clean, we had the run of the Oriana and the cheap drinks were nothing compared to the variety of food available. What a great welcome to Tongatapu and Nuku’alofa. After being at sea for 23 days you would have thought we would have gone off sightseeing, but Ric had an unsinkable life raft dinghy on the deck which he had written an article about. You could actually sail it rather than when you sank, bobbing around waiting to be rescued. The first thing we did the next day we put the life raft dingy overboard, erected the mast and sail, then sailed out into the Tonga harbour. We had both discussed and wondered if we had to use it to save ourselves would it sail well? After an hour or so sailing about in the harbour, a flash went off in our heads. Both at the same time and we started laughing at ourselves for going sailing after just having sailed for 23 days nonstop. It did prove a point though you could sail it and being unsinkable was better than waiting to be rescued.
That night we decided to get a good night’s sleep only to be woken up by the boat shaking and lots of noise. I looked out the porthole and saw a light and immediately thought we were still sailing and that we had hit a reef. Ric slept in the aft cabin and we were both yelling and raced up on deck starker’s as it is the tropics and after running around a bit we realised we were in port and the missionaries on the next boat looked at us both in shock, then told us it was an earthquake. Ric and I both said “Oh! Is that all it is”, and went back below to bed. The ocean was really noisy against the Hull and we both yelled out to each other discussing what an earthquake could do to us and decided the Tidal Wave would be the main problem but as we were in a group of islands we would not be able to get out so we’re probably better off where we were and that nothing we did would help us. But luckily there was no tidal wave and we were ok. Tonga was another story as cracks had opened up everywhere and buildings had collapsed. The wharf where the Oriana was berthed and must have left quickly was like a roller coaster. A Mother Mary statue on top of a church had done a triple somersault and landed the right way up and being made of iron, was unscathed. The parishioners thought it was a miracle. During our time in Tonga, a local had befriended us and invited us for dinner at his home where we met his family. We then invited him to come down to the wharf and see Serenity. When they arrived I had been away and on arriving back I could tell by Ric’s eyes that something was happening. It seems they were trying to get the 15-year-old girl to go below and entertain Ric and when I arrived the 12-year-old was being coaxed towards me. After a while, they explained that Tonga is not affiliated to any other country in the world and so if they could marry the girls off to foreigners they would get a chance to leave Tonga and live in a better place.
We left Tonga a few days later and I had bumped into a sailing friend from Melbourne who was visiting Tonga and Ric let him to sail to Samoa with us. I had called my parents when I arrived in Tonga to let them know I was OK. Then we had the earthquake and all communication went out. The media had spread around the world that a devastating earthquake disaster had hit Tonga. When I called my parents a week later after sailing to Pago Pago in America Samoa, they were very relieved to know I was still alive. Pago Pago is part of the Samoan group of islands that the USA used as a strategic base in the South Pacific which, unlike western Samoa which is owned by the British. Pago Pago was like a mini USA city the police and the cars they drove were the same as in the USA and the Gov’t followed the same voting principles. The USA pumped in about 42 million a year which was a great boost to the economy. While I was in American Samoa it was like nowhere else in the world existed and you immersed yourself in the culture. Ric introduced me to his yachting partner Russell and all the other helpers who were rebuilding the 92’ brigantine “Varua”. Russell had an engineering contract building a road over Mount Rainmaker. His income helped fund the Varua rebuild. Others were involved in various tasks and Ric was running Marine Environmental Research (M.E.R.). M.E.R. attracted students from New College in Sarasota, Florida, USA. They came to Samoa to study marine research. Prof. Al Buelig ran the New College marine biology department at New College University and he encouraged his students to come to Samoa. M.E.R. had 2 houses in a Samoan village called “LauLi’i”. I ended up with a room to myself which was good. The shower was something else, not only was it cold, you first had to reach in and turn the water on to chase all the cockroaches away before attempting to step into the shower. Cockroaches would scamper, run-around and watch you through the cracks in the wall, it all worked well!
I met Paul Rollins from York, Maine the wooden boat builder repairing “Varua” and after a quick inspection of Varua knew it would not be a quick fix. The boat was built in a composite construction, steel ribbing with wooden planking. I climbed aboard and kicked one of the planks and the whole length fell off, along with all the others after a little persuasion later on. So began the task of rebuilding Varua and about 8 months later I was one plank off being finished, but it still had to be rigged and the interior fitted out. The village of Lauli’i had a curfew and you could not leave after 9:00pm but you could come back after that time. There was a Cocktail bar, “Tamoua Palace” close by which had a bad reputation and a few people got hurt or stabbed, I am not sure if anyone was killed but a few badly beaten bodies found in the harbor were reported as a suicide. Everyone said don’t go near it. But it was the closest place to have a drink, so I thought it can’t be that bad and as I didn’t like sitting around all night doing nothing I went to have a look. When I arrived at the Tamoua Palace I wasn’t allowed to sit at the bar so was shown to a table. They had a good band playing so I ordered a drink. The barmaid seemed a bit different and that is when I realised she was a male. I found out later that in Samoa if they don’t have enough women they bring a boy up as a girl. So it was quite common to be told: “He is my sister”. They call them the third generation, “Fa’afafine” and are known for their hard work around the villages. When I was at the Tamoua Palace having a drink the Fa’afafine waitresses were fascinated with my long blond hair which was almost white due to the long days in the sun sailing. Blonde hair was considered important in Samoan culture so I was told. What I didn’t know was that I was being watched by the local Samoans at the bar which I had my back to and if I had shown disgust or had been rude to the girls, they would have shown me how proud they were of their culture and third generation. It seems that is why it was called a wild bar because a lot of foreigners became offended and the quickly put in place. After having been to a few South Pacific islands I used to the fascination they had with me and was used to kids coming up and feeling the hair on my arms and legs. I realised this was also one of those moments so I smiled talked and joked with them. Later on, when I went to the bar I was allowed to sit at the bar and had some great conversations with the locals. I also saw how strong and fierce they were when a few fights broke out and was glad I passed the initiation. Later on, I met a Samoan girl Cathy and we became good friends. What I didn’t know until later was, she was a Princess. Cathy’s mother was a Paramount chief and level below her mother was her father a High Talking Chief. At Christmas time Cathy invited me to celebrate with her family. What I didn’t know was I was the first boyfriend she had invited home and I was not Samoan I was a “Palangi” which is used to refer to White people. I was told it also means the white scum around the edge of a tofu pot. I was originally told it meant a white man from the sky. Cathy had also not told anyone I was coming. Cathy said to bring a bottle of spirits as afterward all the men sit and drink. When we arrived at her home there were about 80 relatives already sitting around on fine mats in a big circle. Cathy said she had to greet everyone and she would introduce me to her Uncle who would keep me amused until she returned. When she introduced me he said in Samoa it is the custom to shake hands and kiss on the side of the cheek (like the French do) which we did. Then he passed me on to the next person and before you know it, I went around the eighty guest shaking and kissing which they were all very amused at. I thought I had met Cathy’s father when this guy looked sternly at me squeezed my hand really hard and did not kiss me on the cheek. Later I found out it was her Uncle, her father and mother were really nice. Once we were seated all the children came around serving food to everyone. I was kept busy talking and answering lots of questions. After the meal, Cathy said it was customary for all the men to sit and drink and I was invited to join in. It really was an experience as a glass would be filled with whatever bottle was opened first, then passed around drank quickly then passed on, getting filled each time and passed to the next person. At the same time, I was being bombarded by different questions from all directions which I think saved me. Because my head was kept busy answering questions and as the glass went around and the bottles of different spirits disappeared the crowd slowly got smaller. Cathy said the women were really amused, because as the men got up to go to the toilet once out of my sight, they became really drunk and staggering about, then before entering straitened up, it seems I was the last one standing and when Cathy got me to her car all the drinking hit me and I could not move. I don’t remember being carried out of the car and put to bed. I was told that I was a big hit and welcome back anytime. Cathy didn’t want to be a princess so she applied for a scholarship to an American University and didn’t tell her parents until it was too late to change. They put in a substitute princess while she was away. On her return she said the substitute princess could keep the position and Cathy commenced an administration job in the Samoan government computer dept. I met some really great people who became close friends. Myself, Leslie & Billy became the “Three Blind Jellyfish” and we managed to have some great adventures. Climbing Mount Rainmaker was the most memorable one as we dislodged a large rock which after bouncing down became air born and landed smack dead center on the roof of Russell’s company car leaving quite a severe dent and a big hole. Another adventure was scuba diving. I read the British and Padi divers manual’s and figured “piece of Cake easy” so when asked to help pull Serenities anchor up at 2am in the morning along with another diver “Dave”. It was pitch black and when we went overboard and followed the anchor line I lost sight of Dave as he had dropped his torch. On reaching the bottom I sank my arms into the soft mud to pull the anchor sideways then up. So there I was my legs buried to my crutch and arms buried to my chest in the mud, when Dave starts pulling out my mouthpiece thinking it is the anchor rope then realised what he had done. I bit down hard so the mouthpiece didn’t come out. Inflated my vest and pulled the anchor up. I came back later to practice taking all the gear off and putting it on again underwater just like the manual said. My next dive was off the reef in front of our village. Helping a student do research. When you jumped in the suction was that strong it sucked you out like you were in space. We dove to 120’ then when coming back in realised we were low on air so snorkeled in then used the tanks to dive to the bottom to grab onto coral. The pressure from the water sucked my bathers and jeans almost off. Lonny my diving buddy disappeared when the coral he was holding onto broke off. Then the reverse pressure forced me back in then it was look for a strong piece of coral to hold onto and trying not to scratch private bits on the fire coral. Then the air started wheezing and I realised I was out. Lucky for me the next jump in I was able to climb out get dressed then look for Lonny who got out about 200 meters further down. That night we discussing how much fun it was and they all said its lucky we are all master divers. That’s when I told them that was only my second dive the first one was a few days ago at 2am in the morning.
I was paid for the work I did on the Varua and had enough money to fly to America and since I had made a lot of good friends and contacts with the students coming out to work with M.E.R. I decided to go and visit. It only cost $250.00 for my airfare via a week in Hawaii to San Francisco where I was offered free accommodation staying with Paul Rollin’s sister Elizabeth. This was the end of my sailing adventure in the South Pacific but the start of my adventures in America, England, and Europe and eventually my return to Australia a few years later.
When I set out from Brisbane I left Australia with $200.00 and arrived back in Australia with exactly $200.00 three years later.
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uppy53 