In Chapter 19 of The Voyage of The Aegre, I describe sailing and navigating the Aegre following her capsize and dismasting, and eventually making landfall, 1,600 miles and 31 days later, on Upolu, Western Samoa.
Following Chapter 18, where I describe how we determined our position without a sextant (see Chapter 18 Notes as well), we had sailed west until we reached the longitude of the Samoa Islands, then sailed north until we sighted them.
The two maps below give perspective to the account I give of this in Chapter 19.
Landfall – Chapter 19
As I tell in the book, we sighted a headland to the northwest late in the afternoon of Friday, October 5th, 1974, 1,600 miles and 30 days after the capsize. We believed we were off Upolu, Western Samoa, but having no charts of the island, we decided to heave-to, to wait until dark, when we might see a lighthouse or the lights of a settlement on the coast that we could head to in the morning.
As the night closed in, we saw no lights to the northwest, but then late in the evening, a ship’s steaming light appeared far out to the west. Someone aboard saw our flare, and the ship closed with us. As I explain more fully in the book, they took The Aegre in tow to the nearby harbour of Pago Pago.
But things might have played out quite differently if the paths of that ship and The Aegre hadn’t crossed that night.
Our initial plan for the next day
Our plan, in the event of seeing no light on the shore (nor a ship), was to approach the south coast of the land the next morning in daylight. We expected a coral reef, but not that far offshore (this being a mountainous island, not a coral atoll). Once closer to the coast, we planned to sail westward along the coast a little outside the reef, looking for a break, a pass through it, and signs of people. Or failing that, possibly somewhere sheltered where we could bring The Aegre close to shore. But we had no chart and no anchors; we’d ditched all our ground tackle immediately after the capsize to increase buoyancy.
We worried that if we were to sail into an unknown pass in a coral reef without an anchor (nor engine), we might have no way of stopping The Aegre from being swept onto a coral head. Would that be how it all ended? Moreover, if we made it to a beach, we might find it deserted and have to survive for days or weeks alone. Modern-day Crusoes.
But, as it happened, a ship came by late that night and seeing us, stopped and towed us into Pago Pago harbour just a few hours away. We were safe, but The Aegre was badly damaged in the process. It was the beginning of the end.
In the years since then, I have wondered what might have happened had that ship not come along.
An alternative ending to Chapter 19?
Twenty-five years after all the above happened, I met someone who had been on that coast that very night all those years ago. He has become a good friend, and we sometimes chuckle about how close we came to meeting in October 1974. We speculate what might have happened if that ship hadn’t come along the coast that night. In our imagining, Chapter 19 of the Voyage of The Aegre might have ended something like this…
The night slowly passed. There was not a light to be seen. In the early morning, the rain eased and the clouds lifted. With the dawn, the island emerged from the greyness ahead. Now we could see we were at the eastern end of an island. Ahead and extending to the west, dark green forested hills rose steeply from the southern coast.
Was it Upolu, where our navigation estimate would put us, or the more westerly Savai’i island?
Nervously, I reset our jury rig in the early morning light and, catching an easterly breeze, we steered northwest towards the still distant coast. We crept closer, anxiously scanning the seas ahead for the slightest sign of a swell building, breaking or being reflected, indicating a reef ahead. But there was nothing, just the waves endlessly rolling forward.
We cautiously sailed on.
A few anxious hours later, we could see the beach and the outlying lagoon ahead. It seemed deserted. Then we turned west to sail parallel to the south coast. I felt growing pressure to find somewhere to put The Aegre ashore. Was this Upolu or Savai’i island? If the latter (westward) island, we had to find somewhere before we came to the western end. After that, there’d be no more islands to the west for hundreds of miles and beating back to the east against the wind under our jury rig would be difficult.
Desperately, we scanned the coastline, but it was just empty sand and coral beaches backed by palms and forest.
Then we saw people
They were far ahead on the beach to the west, tiny stick-like figures moving. Soon, we could see them more clearly. They were waving and launching pao pao (small outrigger canoes) into the lagoon. Then they were paddling their way seaward—out through a pass, a channel through the reef, then turning east towards us, paddling, waving, shouting.
We were as excited as they were, shouting and waving. Soon they were lifting on the swell close by us.
We spoke no Samoan, and they spoke little English, but somehow, we communicated that yes, we’d love to come ashore to their village. They pointed excitedly to follow them.
Soon we could see the pass in the reef, the channel they had come out through, leading to a beach with small houses clustered back in the shelter of the trees.
The light easterly wind held, and we followed their lead. Julie stood on the bow as we entered the pass, nervously watching the coral drawing closer in the clear water. The sea was now smoother and flowing outward, but the wind was steady on the beam, and we could follow the leading pao pao, the crew excitedly pointing to coral heads we should avoid here and there.
Landing
The water was shallower now. Ahead, almost on the beach, the crew of the leading pao pao leapt into the water and waded back to The Aegre, easing us up onto the coral sand. A small final wave helped us in. We’d arrived.
So had the whole village. Everyone was talking excitedly, looking at us and The Aegre. A landing of aliens from outer space would have been no more exciting. But as the aliens, it was equally enthralling for us to be surrounded by men, women, and children in multicoloured lava lavas, talking and laughing excitedly.
We jumped down onto the shore, some supports were found to hold The Aegre upright, and then a little unsteadily, we were led up the beach into the shade of a small open-sided meeting house beneath the palms. In a rough mixture of English, Samoan, and sign language, we learnt we were on Upolu island, in the village of Lotofaga. To gasps from the assembled people, we drew a map in the sand showing Tahiti, the Marquesas, and Panama, where we’d come from.
Meanwhile, food was being pressed into our hands: baked green bananas, taro, breadfruit, and ‘Palsumi,’ they said, telling us to eat, with cups of a sweet chocolate-like drink, “Koko Samoa,” they said, smiling broadly.
But what now? An older man seemed to be giving directions, and a youth jumped on a small motorbike and roared off along the beach eastward. He was soon back, now weighed down with a young, deeply tanned, long-haired Westerner on the back. He swung off, walking towards us with a big grin and his hand held out.
“Welcome to Upolu” he said with an American accent, “My name’s Gene Feldman, I’m a Peace Corp volunteer, how can I help?”
Julie and I, nearly overcome with emotion, didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
Gene quickly learnt of our situation and said, “I can arrange for a small launch to come around the island in a day or two from the main port and capital, Apia, on the northern side of the island. They could tow The Aegre back to Apia. Or you could sail there under your jury rig. It’s not far. I could come with you to show you the way if you like. In Apia, we could repair The Aegre…“
But that didn’t happen
As I tell in the book, a ship came along the coast that night and towed us into nearby Pago Pago, so we never got to visit Lotofaga on Upolu. It would be twenty-five years before I met Gene Feldman, who had been there that night.
Although we didn’t meet on the Lotofaga beach back then, a year later, Gene discovered The Aegre in Pago Pago harbour. He could hardly believe his eyes to find this pretty little Scandinavian-style clinker-built boat bobbing gently on a a mooring in the middle of the South Pacific.
Who, he wondered, owned her? Why was she here? Was she for sale?
Read the book for the whole story
