“SAVAGERY AND PARADISE”
When Captain Edward Edwards of the His Majesty’s Ship Pandora decided to take a foraging party ashore, on what was then an unknown scattering of palm-fringed islands, he didn’t he didn’t have any idea at all what he was getting himself into and to be honest he probably didn’t care. It was very nearly spring and it was 1791 and he was on his way to nearby Tahiti; charged with the honorable task of capturing more than dozen of the most infamous criminals in British history . . . the Mutineers of the HMS Bounty. The Captain was not, by reputation, a kind man and that fact, along with depredations the islanders had previously suffered at the hands of European whalers and traders traveling the spice route, conspired to produce a violently flash so bright that tales of the natives savagery kept even missionaries away from their isles until the 19th century. I suppose it didn’t help matters any when Edwards cracked the Pandora in two against the great barrier a few months later as if the victim of some terrible native curse.
But the missionaries did come, eventually. In 1836 a pair of them, namely Charles Barff and John Williams, took up posts on the islands, and aided by an ancient prophecy that spoke of a “new religion” that would one day come to replace the old gods, they quickly began converting the locals to Christianity with what seemed like great success. That is until a Melanesian Holiday took precedence over all that, and an unfortunate Williams literally wound up being the barbecue at its traditional feast. Unsurprisingly, given the intense beauty of the place, few traces of those brutal tales of remain. Today even the name of those once forbidding islands is synonymous with paradise.
I am, of course, about to tell you all about Samoa.
The quartet of volcano-riddled islands that make up the Independent State of Samoa sit to the west of American Samoa between New Zealand and Hawaii. Owing to their remoteness the isles have been resistant to every form of colonization, including that of animals and so the only big game you’re likely to find scurrying around or about will be of the “Finding Nemo” variety. Its bone-white beaches, booming white surf and luxuriant rainforests hide only a lazing gecko or two, the occasional Polynesian rat and a few flying foxes. There are cloud-wreathed atolls and lonely islets enough to satisfy even the most ardent “Robinson Caruso” devotee. And as if all that weren’t enough to get you to call the place exotic, the Samoan’s origins are lost to an appropriate antiquity.
Unfortunately, hopping a tramp steamer and working your way around Polynesia’s islands is no longer really a travel option so you’ll have to make due with either an Air New Zealand or a Polynesian Airlines flight into the main island of ‘Upolu’s Faleolo Airport. The nearby capital “city” of Apia is about the only spot on any of Samoa’s four inhabited islands that could even laughingly be referred to as urban. But, despite a smattering of fast food joints that have sprung up in recent years, Apia is still seeped in the same pula-tree-shaded atmosphere that’s made it veritable haven for repentant whalers, lapsed missionaries, traders and sailors of all stripes for a little over a century. From the clock tower/Word War I memorial at its center, Apia’s clean-cut villages sprawl westward onto the even coastal plain then ease up a series of gentle slopes or down into lush valleys. While you’re there, you want to check out Aggie Grey’s Hotel, the Marketi Fou and most especially the exquisite stained-glass constructs of the Anglican Church where the “remains” of that gnawed-upon Reverend John Williams were interred.
A couple of three spots you won’t want to pass up during your visit are Vailima, Lake Lanoto’o and Papasee’s Sliding Rock. Vailima is the restored home of “Robinson Caruso” author Robert Louis Steven that also serves as museum dedicated to his memory. The site of the author’s grave offers a clear window into the source of many of his inspirations; looking out over the beautiful township beyond and off over a white-tinged reef into the distance of horizon. Lake Lanoto’o is genuinely mysterious, wild goldfish swarmed crater-lake, filled with spooky, hot-n-cold running, fern-green water. But its bottom has never been found, so beware. Papasee’s is just what it sounds like – a natural rock slide that’ll take you down over a jungle water-fall into a pool far below. If you miss the ride, you won’t be able to say that I didn’t warn you not to.
Don’t even thinking about leaving Samoa before paying a visit to second of its two large islands . . . Savai'i. You’ll be able get their either by plane or preferably by a boat. Savai'i is one of the largest islands in all of Polynesia, but it's remained a pristine and relatively untouched example of the benefits of few Western influences. There are a multitude of untouched beaches to be found and the ones that aren't perfect for swimming offer a few excellent opportunities to get in some snorkeling.
When you shake off the laid-back air of all those reefs and beaches, you’ll also want to head into Savai'i’s interior. Matavanu’s moonscape-like lava fields (formed in the early 1900s) is an absolute must for both amateur photographers and geology buffs alike. The Tafua Peninsula Rainforest Preserve is a jungle menagerie of rugged stretches of lava-rock coastline pox-marked by porous caves and lava blowholes. On the southern end of the isle be sure to seek out Olemoe Falls -- a gorgeous forest-shrouded waterfall that plunges down into the crystalline waters of a sapphire-blue pool that perfect for both divers and swimmers. The South of Savai'i also plays home to Polynesia's foremost ancient structure, the Pulemelei Step Pyramid. Not a sight to be missed, believe me.
Head out anytime you like, we’re talking about a trip to the “Blue Lagoon” here. But of course, the best time to arrive is during Samoa’s May to October dry season when the festival season hits its highest gear and the weather will literally be paradise.
