The greatest thing about knowing nothing at all about a place is that the lack of any expectation, high or low, really lets you take it all in for what it is to you. In the best of cases you’re totally pleasantly surprised. That’s Samoa for me.

Papa Joane’s prediction of “new wind coming” was right on, and we had a fairly quick 500-mile jaunt to Samoa from Suvarov. We were taking the alignment marks into Apia Harbor at 94 degrees True just as day broke. I love it when wind and sea and timing all comes together perfectly...

Samoa’s Upolu island is big. After being on relatively tiny islands it was now unusual to be in a place that you couldn’t bike around in a day. But it was great to be somewhere with sightseeing options outside of the tropical scenery right outside your door (companionway, to be technically correct). We rented a car one day and just started driving, no plan and just a map in hand. The scenery was the same in terms of what how you’d describe an island – lush foliage, palm trees, coral reef, blue lagoons, fruit trees, etc. – but it looked and felt different from the other islands we’d been to so far. Samoa was rustic and remote and laidback in the best of ways. Hikes to hidden lakes in the middle of nowhere and many stretches of road with only tiny village shops selling the bare necessities. Restaurants were unheard of because tourists are rare! As such, we didn’t plan our day very well in terms of eating, but happily settled for a lunch of bottled Cokes and packets of cheese curls under a palm tree. It was idyllic to see kids in matching school uniforms walking home from school against a backdrop of palm trees, mountains and straw huts. And, every once in a while we’d pass a typical Samoan bus – very similar to the ones in Panama - which are crazy fun vehicles playing loud Reggae music, decorated in feathers and sequins, painted in colorful graffiti, and packed to the gills with locals. The Samoans still live by strong tradition, everything still revolves around family and community and roles are important. It was the first place where I've had to be particularly aware of what I wore so as not to offend, donning skirts and dresses rather than shorts or even pants, and making sure to cover up the shoulders. Not easy to do when it's 100 degrees and 100% humidity out! The fale is a traditional Samoan structure with thatched coconut palm rooftops and no sides that is the nucleus of the family and the village. Large extended families often live together in a single fale all under one roof where during the day it’s a large living room and at night each family member gets a spot on the floor to sleep. It’s the epitome of communal living but not much by the way of privacy! It was quite a sight to see all the fales set against a lush mountainside with pigs and children running in the yards or else the ones on the beach built up on stilts in the sand. It was such a pleasure to see how proud the Samoans are of their land. You can tell by the way that they take care of their land, are careful with garbage, and tend to the flora. I have never seen such beautiful use of volcanic rock and tropical flowers that produce gardens and landscaping that is unfortunately not typical at all on most islands.

Our sightseeing tour took us to huge 100-foot waterfalls cascading into a rainforest-y gorge, one of the seven Bahai temples in the world, and Robert Louis Stevenson’ plantation house. We even got adventurous and found the road to the end of the island. The map never mentioned that it was 10 miles of serious 4WD track that took you up and down the side of a mountain, bumping along uncomfortably the whole way! The scenery was fantastic – dramatic cliffs dropping into the ocean, 100 shades of blue water, lush rainforest, exotic birds flying all around, and villagers with coconut palm baskets over their shoulders and machetes in their hands gathering vegetables and coconuts in the forest. Our destination was the village of Uafato, which was not only known for being the very tip of Upolo Island but also for its traditional woodcarving arts. We picked up a hitchhiker along the way (finally being able to return the favor for all the rides we’ve been given) and were proud to be taking the principal of the Uafato primary school home after a meeting in another village. I couldn’t imagine this older gentleman trekking 20 miles in the hot afternoon sun, up and down this deserted dirt track in just a pair of flip flops, but I guess that’s what he has done for years! We arrived in the village and were greeted by kids waving and yelling hello and numerous villagers poking their heads out of their houses just to see who was driving by. Any visitor to this neck of the woods becomes a main attraction. And, as luck would have it, I managed to go shopping in a village that has no shops! I saw an artist sitting under a tree on the beach carving a beautiful wooden 'ava bowl out of a ifilele tree. I knew at first sight that it would be the perfect souvenir of this wonderful country and memory of our fun day of sightseeing... somehow it didn’t matter that the bowl wasn’t actually done yet! No matter. Gregory and I played a couple of mean games of chess on the beach and met some interesting local women who stopped by to chat, and by late afternoon I was the proud owner of a true Samoan piece of art! We topped off the day in true Samoan fashion by spending the night in a fale on the beach, and I fell asleep to the sound of waves right outside my door.

The first thing that you hear about Samoa is the friendliness of everyone you meet, from security guards to taxi drivers to shopkeepers. It’s definitely true. Everyone you pass says hello first and greets you with a smile. That says a lot about a country and its culture when friendly is the first adjective you hear. On the other hand, the first words people usually use to describe American Samoa, just 35 miles away, are smelly, dirty, and depressing. That’s too bad. Yachts mainly stop in Pago Pago to buy American brands at the “Cost You Less” (aka Costco) and the diesel fuel in American Samoa is the cheapest in the Pacific. What you hear is that the tuna fisheries in the harbor give off stench so strong that you have to close all the hatches at night to sleep and the Samoans there are not just big there, but seriously obese. Could it be the influence of all that KFC and McDonalds in a Polynesian diet?!

Yes, the other Samoan stereotypes are also true, especially the one about the literal size of its population. They are known for being large, and they are. They are big men (and women) with big legs and big bones. It’s no wonder that so many famous rugby players come from Samoa. We were lucky to be in town for a big Rugby Sevens tournament where dozens of the top local teams were playing each other. We couldn’t miss out on the most authentic experience, especially since Gregory (who played rugby at university) is such an avid fan. We were the only non-Samoan people in the crowd and I was one of three women in the audience. We had no idea who was playing but it wasn’t long before we got caught up in the excitement and found favorite teams to root for. Gregory did his best to educate me on the various positions, strategies and what was happening on the pitch, but even without it, it wasn’t hard to just enjoy the show!

It was such a pleasure to finally be back in a country where the cost of living was normal/cheap. We’d definitely been in French Polynesia eating 15 dollar hamburgers way too long! We treated ourselves to meals out, lots of cold icy drinks and ice cream. The market was chock full of vegetables and coconut milk straight out of the coconut was the best beverage in the restaurant. Thirty cent “palusami” – taro leaves baked in coconut cream – sold by a lady on the street must be the reason that taro leaves and coconut cream were invented.

On our way out of Samoa, we stopped over in Savaii, the more rustic, more remote and even larger sister island to Upolu. The island is a vast land of volcanic cones – 450 of them now green with foliage, dot the terrain and outline the landscape. Makes for great photos against the sunset! An eruption only 100 years ago left lava enormous lava fields of black volcanic rock. It was amazing how the terrain changed from lush green foliage to desolate rock-like Mars within a few steps. Over time, colorful flowers and big trees managed to poke their way through cracks in the lava rock. It’s quite a stark contrast to see bright pink flowers against black rock, and it proves that not even hot boiling destructive lava can stop Mother Nature. One of the eeriest sights to see were the ruins of churches where the lava literally poured in the door and windows and absorbed everything in its wake. Even with all that lava, a few crumbling walls were left standing! In some places, lava 150 meters thick covered the land but somehow the grave belonging to the daughter of the High Chief was left completely untouched. The lava oozed itself around the gravesite leaving a hole to the grave, which was surrounded by five-foot walls of lava rock and now bursting with flowers. This is the legend of the Virgin’s Grave and seeing it in person, it certainly makes you wonder!

The last thing on our list of things to do in Samoa was to see the Alofaaga Blowholes, some of the biggest anywhere. It was in the exact opposite place from where we were, 50 miles away on an island with no public transportation! But, it would be a shame to miss it, especially considering the tourist photos we’ve seen. So off we went with the last of the Samoan talas we had and our thumbs up. We hadn’t come up that high in latitude but for some reason the humid air and heat in Samoa was now noticeably oppressive and uncomfortable – heavy, thick and incessant. The Samoans watch from the shade of a fale and just laugh to see tourists/us roaming around and doing anything in the middle of the day. They’re smarter than us and know that it’s stupid to try and fight the heat! Luckily, even on a pretty deserted part of the road, we found a ride pretty quick and spent 50 minutes in the back of a pickup truck to get to main town. Great views went flying by! We had just enough talas to get bus to blowholes and get back in time to leave for Wallis. Thanks to a new Samoan friend named Sydney, we found the last bus to the blowholes and were treated to 45 minutes of loud Samoan pop rap music on a bus that was decorated in pink and purple feather boas and sequins.

We made our way through the tiny village of Taga, creating a stir with the locals as we walked by. It was all made clear to us when a young “palangi” (white person) came out of a hut to talk. Because so few palangis come this way, the locals saw us and all said to her, “go talk to them, go talk to them!” She was a young American in Samoa on her Peace Corps mission to help the Women’s Society in the village develop business and get a fishing boat. Living and working in a very remote village in Savaii is a long way from New England college days but I guess that’s part of the appeal of the Peace Corps. The blowholes were interesting enough, but of course we were there at low tide – the worst time - so after all that effort the 100 foot geysers we were supposed to see will always remain a myth to us. We hustled back to the main road in the dead heat of the day because there was one last bus to the main town and if we missed it we’d be stuck 50 miles from where we wanted to be, on a road with no traffic. We bought some cold Cokes, and waited underneath a tree by the edge of the road. It was the perfect spot to people watch and see great images of true everyday Samoan life – a woman walking down the road with an umbrella in one had and a barefoot toddler holding onto the other, a old man on a bicycle balancing a coconut basket of taro on his shoulder, two kids riding a horse down the road laden with coconuts. The day had already been a lucky adventure but how little did we know then when a little yellow mini-van driven by an older gentleman passed us. It stopped suddenly and backed up. The man said to jump in because he said there are no buses to anywhere anymore that day. We got in thankfully to discover that this man was giving a tour to the English couple in the car.

Serendipity! Before we knew it we were part of the tour and Warren, an Australian geologist who’s been living in Samoa for 20 years, was letting us in on interesting facts about the island and various landmarks along the way that we’d never get out of any tour book. I had just said to Gregory that morning that I’d wanted to see the Pulemelei Pyramids but we didn’t know how to find them (they were in the jungle) or how to get there. As luck would have it, Warren was the infamous tour guide mentioned in my Lonely Planet, and the Pyramids were the next stop on the tour! We bumped along on a lumpy 4WD track into the jungle and then walked further into the trees. Suddenly before our eyes was an enormous pyramid built of rocks, amazing ruins from some ancient time. No one knows where it came from, how it was built, or what it was used for even though dozens of theories have been made, carbon testing done, samples taken, and studies have been conducted. Some think that they used it for pigeon hunting, others think it was a holy fortress. We climbed to the top and to see the sheer effort and size of the structure was astonishing. 200 feet by 150 feet by 40 feet with millions of rocks filled in by hand! Warren had the pleasure of meeting the infamous Thor Heyerdahl of Kon-Tiki a few years before when he came to Samoa. Heyerdahl theorized that the Polynesians originally came from South America/Peru and built an old- style wooden raft and floated himself to Polynesia in the 1940s to prove the point. For those of you who haven’t read the book yet, it’s such a great adventure! His theory has since then been refuted thanks to genetic testing, etc. but Warren stipulates that had Heyerdahl seen this earlier he could have possibly proven his theory correct. Sadly, Heyerdahl died just six months after they met and the newfound momentum from the excitement of this new discovery and planned research remains in a limbo. And, it's still amazing to me that with all the historians and scientists out there, they still don’t really have any idea of what this massive relic is or how it got there!

I’ll never forget Warren and our last day in Samoa. The sights we saw, the friendliness of the people, and the generosity Warren showed us in sharing his knowledge and love of his adopted home. As we said our goodbyes, Warren told us to come back and he’d show us even more. How tempting!

We untangled our anchor chain from the coral heads in the anchorage and sailed off just as the sun set over the outline of volcanoes. We were headed for Wallis, a tiny forgotten island in the middle of nowhere that was part of the French influence. Coming back to an island of French influence and Pacific Francs was not that appealing, but Wallis turned out to be another pleasant surprise.

It definitely was an island of imported 20 dollar cauliflowers and French wine, but it also had great Tongan ruins in the forests, spectacular churches on the coastline, and some pretty distinctly Wallisian culture. Wallis may be under French influence, but the local island powers and chiefs remain strong and the real authority it seems. You can feel the distinct schism between the French Ex Pats working for the government and the local Wallisian population. For instance, we checked in with the Gendarmerie and filled out all the local paperwork allowing us to be in the country, but after anchoring in Gahi Bay, we were told we had to see the chief of that village and ask permission to anchor in his bay. Meeting with the chief was quite the experience. It involved a 30 minute dissertation by Chief Kahlea with eight yachties all sitting around him on the veranda at nightfall trying to understand his Wallisian French. He started off really grumpy and authoritative, explaining why yachties were required to make contact, but the session ended with him offering us cold juice and Fosters lager! Maybe his all bark and no bite was to prove a point, but it was nice to see old traditions still being respected and I was more than happy to play my part in custom. If anything it doesn't happen enough anymore.

A definite highlight of Wallis was catching up with friends again. It was such a joy to see Dragonfly anchored in front of the motu as we approached the pass and to hear them on the VHF as we sailed in. We had many fun nights drinking rum and telling stories as well as fun afternoons traipsing around town playing Two Truths and a Lie. We’ve seen them just a few times and even then only after meeting them for a minute in Papeete Harbor but when you click, you click. They’re the kind of adventurous interesting dynamic people that you want to meet along the way, and you always end up with great memories. One night we were cooking dinner when we heard a sailboat on the VHF looking for assistance. In was "as black as the inside of a cow" out and they couldn't find the markers that were on the nautical chart. You always kind of trust that things are supposed to work the way they are supposed to work, but if I've learned anything on this trip, that's sometimes a big assumption. Who would have known that important navigational alignment beacons that are supposed to be lit, wouldn't be lit at night? Who would have known that an island with important navigational aids could run out of lightbulbs and could then leave lighthouses unlit because they were "waiting for lightbulbs to arrive from France?!" The sailboat could have tried to make it in, but that's usually not a good idea when your boat is usually the sum of all of your worldly belongings. One look at a wrecked sailboat on a reef and you easily see what coral and current and wind can do to a boat in a narrow pass. They could have been stuck with a long bumpy 11 hours of heaving to outside the pass waiting for light but for some clever brainstorming. Gregory and Graeme took the dinghy and went out in the dark into the wet waves and cold wind with a huge flashlight and literally lit the lighthouse up for the other boat. Gregory and Graeme, the new Wallisian lighthouse keepers, to save the day! Sailors band together.

We had to get to Fiji with enough time to make it out by hurricane season and all too quick it was time to move on. As always, we were excited for the next island playground but saying goodbye to friends in an anchorage is always the sad part of leaving a place. It was the first time we sailed off knowing we wouldn’t happen to run into Dragonfly again along our sailing way (they were headed north to Asia) but... it's a small world and you never know!