It was time to transition from American Samoa, travel through the independent nation of Samoa, and continue onward to Fiji, where four nights at Barefoot Manta Island awaited us. What lay ahead was a little air travel, a little city exploration, a decidedly inconvenient wake-up call, and, eventually, a tropical island welcome.
A Short Flight and a Leap into Tomorrow
We were flying out of Pago Pago International Airport, and I admit I approached the experience with a little trepidation after the incredible chaos we’d encountered at baggage claim on our arrival several days earlier. Fortunately, this departure was an altogether smoother operation. Having dutifully arrived the recommended two hours before boarding, we found ourselves with time to spare but the time passed quickly, and soon we were boarding a Samoa Airways de Havilland Canada Twin Otter, a small aircraft well suited to island hopping and short runways.
I’m always psyched about flying in a small plane. You’re rarely soaring high above the clouds, and the relatively close-up views of the landscape below can be spectacular. The rain had just passed as we crossed the wet tarmac, a friendly ground crew member waving us toward the stairs.
When booking the flight, I’d been asked to provide my weight, a routine precaution on small island aircraft, where passengers and baggage must be carefully balanced. With every row occupied, the crew arranged us with that balance in mind. Many of the Samoan passengers were of larger build, something I’d noticed throughout our time in American Samoa, and a few occupied two seats to travel comfortably. Polynesian communities have diverse body types, and larger physiques have sometimes been associated with chiefly status and traditional ideals of strength and stature and are quite common. This airline was mindful of that as was I on this flight but know also there is no single Samoan body type nor judgement. I buckled in, watched the clouds breaking over the water, and felt lucky to be there.
The flight lasted barely 50 minutes, although the weather provided plenty of drama. Clouds, rain, and a rainbow accompanied us, with occasional breaks offering clear views of the coastline and bays below. Several views stopped me in my tracks: a forested coastline bordering a sheltered lagoon, its waters glowing in layers of turquoise and aqua before plunging into deep ocean blue and a fringe reef that announced itself with a crescent of crashing white waves tracing its outer edge. Even with the unsettled weather, it was a spectacular introduction to the islands ahead.
And then there was the International Date Line to deal with. We’d left American Samoa on Tuesday at 9:15 a.m. and arrived in Samoa on Wednesday at 9:50 a.m. In barely 50 minutes of flying, we’d apparently managed to lose an entire day. We landed at Fagaliʻi Airport, a small regional airport serving flights between the islands. Customs was remarkably effortless, and soon we were on our way to our hotel in Apia.
Our taxi driver, Loui, also gave us one important piece of information: we’d need to leave for the airport at 2 a.m. the following morning. Ouch! Our flight from Faleolo International Airport, about 25 miles away and an hours drive away, was scheduled for 5 a.m., and we needed to check in by 3:00 am. We arranged for Loui to collect us at the appointed hour. I thanked him and tried not to think too much about whether he’d actually appear in the middle of the night. I could not imagine why he would volunteer to do that but I have heard that taxi driver’s are in a competitive business and are grateful for a confirmed pick-up and especially when they can secure a more-lucrative run to the airport ahead of time.
A Touch of Luxury in Apia
Our accommodations for the night were at the Sheraton Samoa Aggie Grey’s Hotel, a short distance from Fagaliʻi Airport. We arrived around 10 a.m. and, since we had only one night in Samoa, were eager to leave our luggage somewhere and explore Apia.
We had hoped simply to store our bags until check-in, but discovered that for about $78 we could have a room within the hour. Since I had already pre-paid for the room months ago, I conned myself into thinking it was a total bargain for a room at this grand hotel. Even better, the price gave us access to the hotel’s extensive buffet breakfast in its beautiful open-air restaurant while we waited. It seemed a bargain for a few hours of comfort, a good meal, and the chance to regroup before heading out. By 10:30, we were in our room.
What a contrast to Sadie’s Hotel in American Samoa! The Sheraton’s polished marble hallways and elegant surroundings were a world away from Sadie’s old-world charm and long history. Yet I loved them both. One had a comfortable, very lived-in character; the other offered marble hallways and more polished kind of luxury. Fortunately, I didn’t have to choose a favorite.
Shortly afterward, we set out to explore Apia. Compared with the easygoing village feel of Pago Pago, Apia was busier and more urban, definitely much more commercial, with fewer dogs, and not as many churches. I’ll admit the city itself didn’t particularly win me over. We wandered the streets, looked for a pharmacy, poked into a few shops, and passed the cream-colored clock tower in the town center, but the harbor was the real draw.
Beneath heavy gray skies, container ships and cranes worked along the docks, while a breakwater of rough volcanic rock held back the choppy water. It was more industrial than idyllic, but the walk along the waterfront was considerably more pleasant than the city’s noise and bustle.
I was glad we’d explored it, but even happier to return to the hotel and enjoy a couple of hours in its glorious swimming pool and gardens. After our very substantial brunch, dinner was a nonstarter. We had more important business to attend to: organizing everything so that when our alarms sounded at 1:30 a.m., we could simply dress, grab our bags, and be out the door in a flash!
After enjoying a spectacular sunset and beginning to settle in to bed, there was just one small obstacle to a peaceful night’s sleep. Remember those beautiful marble hallways? It turned out they were also excellent amplifiers. A family in a nearby room allowed their children to tear around and holler along the slippery, echoing corridors. The children were clearly having a wonderful time. We were less enthusiastic about their entertainment.
Eventually, Bernadette went out and suggested to the father that he might consider corralling his offspring, as some of us were trying to sleep. It was a reasonable request, especially given that our day was about to begin at an hour when most sensible people are still several hours away from waking and perhaps this father was just going to bed.
Fiji, Here We Come!
To my great relief, dependable Loui appeared right on time at 2 a.m. He drove us through the darkness to Faleolo International Airport for our flight to Nadi, Fiji. The drive was slow, and the 25-mile journey reinforced the wisdom of allowing plenty of time. We needed to be at the airport by 3 a.m. for our 5 a.m. departure.
We took off under a golden sunrise and everything went smoothly. This was an economy flight, but Samoa Airways earned points in my book by serving us breakfast, complete with yogurt and a muffin, at no extra charge. Can’t remember when a USA airline on any non-international flight has given me a free meal in economy. Luxury is relative when you’ve been awake since the middle of the night. We also landed under a golden sunrise. Traveling through these time zones gave us this unanticipated but bonus sunrise. Customs in Fiji was a breeze, the airport uncrowded and gleaming.
Soon we were outside waiting for the South Sea Cruises coach that would take us to Port Denarau. From there, we’d board the Yasawa Flyer for the journey to Barefoot Manta Island, our home for the next four nights. I think the coach stopped at every resort in the area to load up passengers so it was well over an hours ride for the 12 mile distance that would be 20 minutes by taxi.
Port Denarau was bustling with travelers heading off to various islands on various vessels, some for day trips and others for longer stays at the outer-island resorts. After checking our bags, getting our boarding passes, paying a fuel surcharge, and purchasing some snacks, we people watched on the deck area by the dock until we boarded this speedy, air-conditioned catamaran. We opted for seating on the open upper deck. The promise of sea breezes and island views was irresistible.
Unfortunately, I’d neglected two fairly important accessories: a hat and sunscreen. The sun and wind were soon making their presence known, and I eventually retreated below to the more comfortable indoor air-conditioned seating area, with its snack bar and large windows. Down there , there was also a door leading to the exterior lower front deck, where one could experience the breeze of great intensity. My girls eventually joined me down there having had their fill of the gusty breezes up top .
Out on the front deck, the wind whipped up the sea spray as the islands slid past, and it was quite invigorating. After enjoying it for a while I was back in my seat. I became fascinated by two young women conducting with their iPhones what appeared to be an elaborate photo shoot out on the deck. They cycled through pose after pose, apparently determined to capture every possible angle and facial expression of themselves against the island scenery. For a while, I found their performance almost as entertaining as the view.
It struck me as a perfect illustration of our selfie-obsessed age, when sometimes the experience seems less important than the photograph proving that we had it. Of course, I couldn’t be too judgmental. In this digital age, when thousands of photographs can be snapped at no cost, I have occasionally been guilty of collecting pictures rather than simply enjoying the moment myself.
Eventually, I turned my attention back to the real attraction: the islands of the Mamanuca region slipping past in the distance.
The Ferry That Didn’t Quite Dock
The Yasawa Flyer made stops at numerous island resorts along the way. I’d imagined it pulling into a succession of little island ports, but my understanding of the process was about to receive a useful correction. Many of the islands have shallow reefs and no deep-water docks. Rather than bringing the large ferry ashore, the crew anchored well offshore and waited for the smaller motor launches from the resorts. These approached the catamaran, transferred passengers and their luggage, and carried them to the beaches or resort landing points. The process worked in reverse for those leaving the islands, with new passengers and their bags being brought aboard for the onward journey.
It was an ingenious arrangement, although watching the transfers made me appreciate just how different island transportation can be from simply pulling into a dock or ferry terminal.
The resorts we passed were generally smaller and more intimate than the grand developments found on Fiji’s larger, more populated islands. Here, the attraction was the combination of sandy beaches, reefs, tropical vegetation, mountains, and a sense of remoteness. After about three hours on the water, our final approach and transfer to our resort, Barefoot Manta, proved memorable. We were finally heading for a sandy shore on one of those launches, and Barefoot Manta Island was no longer just a name on our itinerary.
A Fijian Welcome
Stepping onto the sand at Barefoot Manta Island, we were greeted by several members of the staff, who had gathered with guitars to sing us a warm Fijian welcome. Someone handed us a cold, delicious mango drink, and we sipped happily while receiving our check-in instructions. After airplanes, airport transfers, a brief urban excursion, a middle-of-the-night departure, and three hours aboard a ferry, it was a lovely way to arrive. The music, the smiles, and the refreshing drink immediately made the journey memorable. Now, at last, we could unpack, settle in, and look forward to the next four days. The adventure was just beginning.
