*DXPEDITION REPORT* 70DA0, American Samoa

– January 16, 2026Posted in: DXpedition Reports

đź“Ť American Samoa—the crown jewel of the South Pacific—has long been one of the most wanted DXCC entities on 11 m…

Lying roughly 4,000 km northeast of New Zealand, its jagged volcanic ridges and remote location make it notoriously difficult to work, regardless of the band, as history has shown.

In Cycle 25, this one will rank among the toughest DXpeditions of them all, a challenge eagerly accepted by 43DA001 Darren “Mr Pacific”.

From Tutuila Island, the largest IOTA specimen in the OC-045 basket, Daz battled tropical storms, rugged terrain, and unpredictable propagation to deliver a rare and highly sought-after signal to hunters across the globe—turning each QSO into a hard-won prize.

⚠️ Here’s his report!

DAY 1 – Sunday, 28 December

Day 1 kicks off in Apia, Samoa (Division 223), aboard a QANTAS Boeing 737-800 after an eight-hour endurance drill from Brisbane…

Rain and hostile tropical turbulence smack me in the face the instant I step onto the tarmac at 05:30 local time. Customs, surprisingly, is painless—apparently the only system on the island not disrupted by the WX.

⚠️ “Talofa, Samoa!”

đź“Ť A short taxi hop delivers me to the Faleolo Regional Terminal for the onward flight to American Samoa…

Check-in opens at 07:00 for a scheduled 08:30 departure across a 124 km slice of the Polynesian Pacific—an optimistic timeline, as events soon demonstrate.

Crossing the International Date Line delivers its familiar sleight of hand: leaving Samoa on Saturday, 28 December, I touch down in American Samoa at 11:15 am on Friday, 27 December. A free day appears on the ledger—temporarily—destined to be clawed back on the way home.

The regional Samoa Airways service is operated by a flyspeck De Havilland Canada DHC-6-300 Twin Otter—an aircraft built on reliability, indifference, and brute honesty…

With just 19 seats, comfort is negotiable, but few aircraft deliver you to diminutive Pacific DXstinations like this one with such incredible raw charm!

A 15 kg baggage allowance is enforced with missionary zeal, triggering AUD $300 in excess charges—payment extracted for my paranoia about mid-DX failures and the unavoidable bulk of DXpedition kit.

Painful, yes—but expected, budgeted, and quietly resented all the same.

Momentum grinds to a halt when I learn that a newly introduced “Okay to Board Permit” from American Samoa Legal Affairs is now mandatory…

Processing time is quoted at 1–3 days—more than enough to strand this DXpedition VIP in Apia before the first mast section ever sees daylight.

Several urgent calls to the Trump administration from angry DXpedition Sponsors follow, assurances are traded, and—against all precedent—the permit materializes with remarkable speed. Bureaucracy promptly loses interest, and the schedule survives, albeit on a slightly later flight.

The flight eventually departs, delayed by rain and relentless winds. Forty-five minutes later, we touch down in the US External Territory of American Samoa. Checked freight—including mast sections and antenna spreaders—is released separately and attracts a USD $40 weekend handling fee, a reminder that nothing here moves without tribute.

Somewhere between the clouds, the departure lounge, freight collection, and the taxi rank, I acquire an unsolicited travelling companion…

A local fa’afafine—a recognised Samoan third gender—takes a romantic interest in my arrival and proceeds to shadow me with relentless enthusiasm, much like an unwanted carrier parking itself on your QRG during a peak-hour pile-up.

Polite deflections bounce off harmlessly like unexploded water balloons. Extraction is achieved only by a well-timed dive into a waiting taxi—cultural respect fully observed, sexual interest very much unreciprocated, and signal not logged!


📍 A 30-minute taxi ride delivers me to the Airbnb in Futiga District on Tutuila Island—an eroded remnant of a vast basaltic shield volcano.

Stunning jagged ridges loom above the turquoise Pacific like cooled scars, only marginally softened by dense jungle. A brief stop for shack-snacks and directions is required, the property seemingly committed to remaining deliberately obscure.

Shown right, the accommodation, Plantation Fale, is mercifully ham-friendly: a four-bedroom property set well back from the main drag on a spacious, gated, and fully fenced block. Its elevated perch and open surroundings provide awesome take-offs toward SA via the short path (SP), Division 43 to the west, and EU via the long path (LP).

At the door, I’m greeted by bubbly Filipino host Cecilia (See above) and shown to my room—the Leonie Suite…

Luggage is dumped in the room, and station installation begins.

Right on cue, the heavens open, and driving rain turns erection of the NBS mast and Skypper antenna into a soaking, slippery ordeal. Running on fumes after the red-eye, every adjustment becomes an exercise in attrition—sweat, strain, and not-so-quiet profanity.

Metal stakes, a hammer, and a step ladder are borrowed from the tool shed to secure the mast, guyed to a century-old mango tree, the carport, and a balcony railing. The result: a stubbornly solid installation, standing just over one wavelength above the ground—unyielding, wild-weather-ready, and poised to earn every QSO it can.

⚡⚡ Job done, my excitement surges as the station takes shape on a white fold-up table (See below) dragged into the room…

It consists of Yaesu FT-950 and Icom IC-7300 transceivers, PowerTech and Manson power supplies, and a Lenovo laptop. A compass, logistics guide with beam headings, and a notepad complete the setup—functional, unromantic, and primed for action. Finally, a 25 m length of Messi & Paolini cable snakes through a bedroom window, across the veranda, and up the mast to the antenna.

Eventually, the first CQ of 70DA0 goes out on 27.610 MHz USB, after preliminary calls on the International Call Frequency. Adrenaline crackles like an overdriven amp as the FT-950’s speaker bursts to life!

From the Kilo Papa India club, 43KPI106 John in Oz answers first with a smoking 59+ signal, and the log roars to life—sort of. Activity sputters along for several minutes before the DX switch is slammed on.

Gold-plated Hunters descend from SA and Oceania (OC), including Brazilian Big Bopper 3DA010 Marcio in Paraná, 43DX234 Tom in northern Australia, and 73AT101 Andris along South America’s northeastern Atlantic coast.

Just after 11:00 pm local time, with my eyes practically hanging out of their sockets, EU grudgingly opens via the long path…

World-class DX Hunter 56SD106 Ville on the Scandinavian Peninsula punches through first.

47DX101 John in Denmark, 13OT001 Mario in Germany, and 178AT111 Andy in the Balkans blaze in with striking signals, while fellow DA member 93DA011 Brian in Malta (EU-023) sneaks into the log as a welcome 5/5 surprise.

Polish and Italian stations—helmed by big guns 161EX015 Jurek, 1DA101 Giorgio, and 161AT070 Tomasz—dominate the pile-up, which surges aggressively for about an hour before collapsing like a spent tsunami…

French and UK stations make fleeting, taunting appearances, then propagation slams the door shut, leaving the band to sink back into the damp, volcanic-shadowed night of Futiga.

Day 1 closes with 165 QSOs across 33 DXCC—a solid start, bought with sweat, fees, and patience, and a clear signal: this DXpedition will not do charity.

⚠️ “Manuia le aso!”


DAY 2 – Monday, 29 December

Daybreak in Tualatai County arrives slightly more forgiving than yesterday, with a yummy omelet and bacon for breaky, accompanied by fresh pawpaw and bananas plucked from the garden…

Thanks, Cecilia!

Two coffees later, the station springs to life, and the Skypper swings south-west toward Australia, putting Division 43 firmly on the menu.

Beneath a brilliant blue sky, propagation into the Great Southern Land cooperates just enough to snag QSOs from nearly every state and territory—the Northern Territory remaining the sole holdout…

Early callers include 43SD001 Frank in Sydney, 43DA225 Frank in South Australia, and 43DA050 Geoff on Queensland’s Sunshine Coast.

Along the same path, 268A33 Doug on Lord Howe Island (OC-004)—that windswept, volcanic speck between Australia and New Zealand—sneaks into the log, a welcome surprise on an already promising morning.

Unfortunately, VOACAP 11 and Proppy forecasts remain wildly optimistic and utterly unreliable…

Their flashy charts impress the eye, but real Freeband QSOs rarely follow pretty lines and colours. In fact, for a DXpeditioner, they’re about as trustworthy as predicting my ex-YL’s mood swings.

Through the arvo, the log grows steadily, driven by CQ calls from the IC-7300’s eight voice-record memories, in both simplex and split modes. Signals from AS and OC surge like subterranean magma beneath Tutuila’s volcanic slopes—solid, inevitable, and gloriously unpredictable.

Nightfall brings a rich, traditional Filipino soup, brimming with garden vegetables and tender pork—a comforting reward after hours spent wrestling keys, knobs, and coax in the shack.

⚠️ “Fa’afetai, Cecilia. Your hospitality has single-handedly spared me both starvation and sub-par operating!”

Well past midnight, EU long-path openings tease from the horizon only to vanish before they land…

Only two stations break through from this coveted market today: 1SD003 Luca in Italy and 18SR101 Jim on the southern tip of the Balkan peninsula. A surprise QSO sneaks in as well—106LR001 Mario on Ceuta & Melilla, Africa’s North Coast.

By the end of Day 2, 123 additional QSOs are logged, bringing the running total to 288.

⚠️ “Manuia le aso!”

DAY 3 – Tuesday, 30 December

After a few hours’ sleep, a spectacular Polynesian dawn washes over Futiga…

Signals from across the water roll in like slow tidal surges over a calm Rose Atoll lagoon, smoldering like coals in an umu under the early sun.

The shack stirs to life as the transceivers and laptop power up, N1MM Logger scrolling into view alongside Grey Line mapping and the 11DX Cluster spot board, quietly framing the day’s possibilities.

Back in Queensland, familiar digits cut through the noise with surgical clarity. My beautiful wife, 43DA1112 Leonie, and daughter, 43DA1113 Olivia, punch in like syringes, their signals driven by a Galaxy Saturn transceiver and Lightning L6 quad—stretching across the Pacific like a taut long wire.

Down Under stations dominate the daylight hours, with AS stations also contributing steadily. Notable visitors include 153SD102 Raven in Chiang Mai, Thailand, and 155EE0 on Taiwan Island (AS-020).

At 07:38 UTC, an unexpected long-path check-in with Austrian heavyweight 35AT160 Peter ignites a European frenzy….

Psychedelic color splashes across the IC-7300’s scope as S7–S9 signals collide, split calls erupt, and band-e-monium breaks like pyroclastic fragments from a sudden volcanic blow-up.

In western EU, elite DXers 13AT031 Martin and 13DA016 Mike, and 16AT747 Marco in the Kingdom of Belgium punch through a spaghetti thick pile-up!

Instead of smooth QSOs, though, the session descends into a chaotic masterclass in DXing gone awry. Blind callers transmit without listening, fabricate QSOs, and trample ongoing exchanges…

Even seasoned Freebanders behave like novices under the pressure, punching bumpy holes in the propagation reef with poorly timed tail-ends or recorded calls.

Despite the mayhem, an impressive 519 QSOs are logged by close of play, though dozens of potential contacts vanish into the void.

New Divisions logged include 13, 16, 21, 23, 26, 31, 35, 45, 49, 68, 104, 108, 109, and 155.

⚠️ “Manuia le aso!”

DAY 4 – Wednesday, 31 December

Crowing roosters drag me from the mattress as sunlight flickers across the horizon….

Coffee mug in hand, the IC-7300 hums on 27.610 MHz USB. My antenna—a square-shaped Frankenstein of fiberglass poles and wire—points east, a silent spear cast into the Pacific in search of signals. SWR checks confirm maximum power, and the first CQ of the day crackles out through the rig’s HM219 hand mic on 27.555 MHz USB.

Western Kiribati (224) and Trinidad & Tobago (158) are logged early, but the band is mercurial—more ups and downs than a hooker on crystal meth.

Each QSO therefore is a small victory in itself!

đź“Ť Mid-morning, I abandon the shack for the first time since arriving and hop aboard a community bus to NuĘ»uuli, a bustling village on Tutuila’s central east coast…

The ride is full-on immersion therapy: Samoan renditions of American R&B blare from rattling wooden-framed Perspex windows, locals in floral shirts and sarongs press in like sweaty sardines, and the fare—USD $2—feels like daylight robbery in reverse.

⚠️ “Susu mai, come closer, join the fun!”

Twenty minutes in, I disembark at Laufou Shopping Center and indulge in a Carl’s Jr. burger while a San Francisco 49ers NFL game flickers on the store’s big screen—peak Americanism in the middle of the Pacific. It’s my favourite DXpedition Downtime spot now, just as it was in 2018 at the bottom of the cycle.

Outside, humidity drapes over me like a clingy ex, while Keke birds explode from roadside vegetation at my every step, squawking indignantly as if to say, “Who invited you?” A cheeky reminder that both nature and DX adventure share one trait – unpredictability!

I wander along the shoreline toward the harbour—one of the world’s deepest natural ports—passing the Pala Lagoon, Futi and Fatu Rocks, and Sadie’s by the Sea…

To my left, serrated ridges and black basalt rise like ancient sentinels, whispering of Tutuila’s fiery birth.

The island, an eroded remnant of a colossal shield volcano, bears scars of long-frozen lava flows and fissures, now softened beneath a thick, living blanket of green.

đź“Ť At the Port of Pago Pago, I spot the MV Manu’atele, the government-operated ferry linking Tutuila with the Manu’a Islands—my intended route onward to Ta’u…

Unfortunately, it sits idle for repairs until mid-January, confirming that the next leg will require a flight.

I pause at the Pago Pago front and rear range lights—beacons catalogued in the Admiralty List of Lights since 1901—and imagine them casting steady guidance over the narrow channel.

In their prime, they shepherded mighty vessels such as the USS Yorktown, USS Louisville, and USS St. Louis safely through Tutuila’s waters during WWII, when the harbour served as a critical Pacific stronghold.

By late arvo, I’m back at the CQ crashpad—baked, half-fried, but far from done—eyeing the EU DX window with a box of Budweiser from NuĘ»uuli strictly for hydration purposes…

At 09:30 UTC, the first EU stations explode onto the QRG, and the pile-up erupts like a pressure cooker. Callsigns slam together, vanish, and reappear, but gradually a pattern forms—law and order clawing its way out of the chaos as the band finally obeys, just enough, to get things moving.

Notable QSOs include 165DA101 Alex on Sardinia (EU-024), 119RC575 Diego on Madeira (AF-014), 14EK099 Jean-Michel in France, and renowned island collector 26DX047 Darran in the UK.

This 24-hour period closes with the log at 560 QSOs and two new Divisions added: 119 and 165. Sleep deprived, I’m sound asleep before my head even hits the pillow.

⚠️ “Manuia le aso!”

DAY 5 – Thursday, 1 January

Though the calendar screams January 1, the day feels about as festive as a wet sock—American Samoa stubbornly insists on staying 24 hours behind the rest of the world…

Early arrivals inject some cheer: 302SD200 Slava from Sakhalin Island (AS-018) in North East Asia, OC DX magnet 172DA161 Patrice on Grande Terre Island (OC-032), and 9AT962 Dan in Prince George, British Columbia, kick off the log with solid signals.

The island’s terrain, as expected, continues to thumb its nose at me…

Mountains north of Futiga choke low-angle take-offs toward AS, EU, and NA. Geography has officially joined the ranks of unhelpful DX partners—a tangled minefield of blocked paths and thwarted signals.

With the band on a midday lull, I retreat to the veranda to scribble postcards to sponsors. Each note is a small gesture of thanks, a tangible nod to the QSOs they’ve made possible—and a quiet reminder that folks out there still fuel this madness.

Dinner tonight is a delicious bowl of Sapasui, crafted by my Filipino host, chef extraordinaire and tone-deaf karaoke enthusiast, Cecilia…

Vermicelli noodles, pork, shrimp, onions, garlic, soy sauce, fresh ginger, and garden-picked vegetables meld into a rich, comforting feast—the kind of meal that quietly reminds you why you keep wrestling a band that refuses to play nice.

Past midnight, EU DX remains teasingly unattainable, and many world class hunters are left staring into the void. It’s a humbling reminder that 11m DX answers to no one.

⚠️ “Manuia le aso!”

DAY 6 – Friday, 2 January

Much like yesterday, the band simmers reluctantly, a lukewarm saucepan of half-cooked chicken giblets—promising heat, delivering very little…

A handful of OC and Americas contacts—led by DXpedition ace 41DA981 Giovanni, 2DA010 Jeff US state of Michigan, and Dominican Republic talisman on 27.515 MHz LSB 821 John and 789 Clem—arrive before lunch, a modest morsel before the band drifts off into its customary afternoon siesta.

Evening brings familiar frustration: EU contacts remain maddeningly elusive…

Every incoming signal flits just beneath the noise floor like a shoal of silver fish skimming across a mirrored lagoon. Nothing in the net! Nothing to eat! Starve!

Repeated CQ calls and careful coordination on 27.555 MHz USB produce anorexic results; only Divisions 24 (Panama) and 4 (Argentina) punch through from the Americas at this odd hour, adding a meagre 20 QSOs to the log.

By 5:00 am local time, as the sun spills molten gold over Futiga and the western hills of Tutuila, 70DA0 goes QRT for the final time, with just over 612 stations ITL. The station is carefully dismantled, packed, and stowed—no ceremony, just a quiet, methodical extraction.

An hour later, showered and skinned in fresh kit, I slide into a taxi bound for the regional airport, tracing roads carved by ancient lava flows, weaving past raggedy 4-eyed dogs and chickens that strut the roadside like self-appointed traffic cops…

In just three hours, Samoa Airways will whisk me onward to the next leg of the odyssey: the remote Manu’a Islands IOTA Group.

On Tutuila, the battered ridges, crinkled like potato chips and glowing in the dawn, mark the close of the 70DA0 chapter—a reminder that DX adventure is always a mix of 8-rounds punishment and reward.

Yet amid all the sweat, drizzle, and logistical quagmires, this extraordinary journey was made possible by an incredible network of support…

⚡⚡ To my amazing sponsor mates, whose generosity funds the overstuffed kit, flights, accommodation, and every obscure contingency—“Fa’afetai!”

To the people of American Samoa, whose warmth, patience, and charm smoothed the path for a sun-baked, rain-soaked Aussie—“Fa’afetai!”

To the worldwide 11m DX community, whose skill, persistence, and relentless pile-up energy turned elusive signals into triumphs—“Fa’afetai!”

Without this collective effort, the QSOs logged, the new DXCC confirmed, and the incredible memories etched across Tutuila’s rugged slopes would have remained little more than dreams…

Together, we turned obstacles into DX opportunity, chaos into clarity, and fleeting SSB contacts into a story that will linger long after the last CQ!!!!!

⚠️ “American Samoa, Muamua Le Atua! Manuia le po! Susu mai!”

LOG SUMMARY

  • Stations worked: 612
  • DX Regions Worked: OC, AS, NA, SA, EU, AF
  • Divisions Worked: 63 [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 16, 17, 18, 19, 21, 23, 24, 25, 26, 30, 31, 32, 34, 35, 41, 43, 45, 47, 49, 56, 60, 67, 68, 69, 73, 79, 91, 93, 104, 106, 108, 109, 119, 136, 153, 155, 158, 161, 165, 172, 178, 194, 196, 201, 205, 218, 224, 268, 302, 347 & 350].