The second leg of the American Samoa visit in January 2026 kindled a new challenge for 43DA001 Darren: the remote Manu‘a Islands…
Following six days on Tutuila where he was QRV as 70DA0, Daz backed-up for his 42nd IOTA project, this time focusing on a DXstination never before logged on 11 metres.
In fact, the operation marked the first-ever Freeband activity from this Island Group, presenting a genuine ATNO opportunity for serious Island Chasers worldwide.
A Molotov DX cocktail of remoteness, logistical madness, and uncharted propagation, this dx adventure promised both excitement and obscene challenge from the outset.
Here’s his report…
Day 1 — January 2
The eagerly anticipated ferry to Ta‘ū Island for OC-077 is out of action, so sadly the open-sea adventure has to wait…
The only way in is by air!
Flights booked online, I arrive at Tafuna Airport after a taxi ride from my Airbnb, 70DA0 a not-so-distant memory.
The ‘standard’ 15 kg baggage allowance is real — but I’m three times over it. The excess baggage fees light up like a poker-machine free-spin feature, and I’m promptly slugged US$350. The check-in guy jokes that I’ve effectively paid for a second ticket and will be upgraded to ‘first class.’ In practice, that means a seat directly behind the cockpit and a cup of water mid-flight.
“Fa’afetai tele lava (Thank you very much)!”
The flight from Tutuila, the largest of American Samoa’s islands, is a two beer odyssey, smooth and turbulence-free, despite the dramatic Pacific backdrop unfolding below…
Samoa Airways’ service to Ta‘ū is operated by a De Havilland Canada DHC-6-300 Twin Otter — a rugged little aircraft with only 19 seats and a rep for getting in and out of places larger jets simply can’t.
At 2000 feet, the pilot directs us towards Aunuʻu (OC-045), the QTH of 70/30DX401 Christian’s stay in 2004, before tracking east towards the Manua’s some 110 km away.
Below the fuselage, OC-077 islands Ofu and Olosega soon slide past like a scene ripped straight from Jurassic Park — fishing boats, reef and jungle-covered volcanic summits stretching into the distance in a mind-bending visual overload.
On arrival, I’m collected from the airstrip by Langi (See below left) and her boyfriend Victor, both no older than 25, and hauled into the back of a ute for the short drive to ham friendly accommodation…
This is in sleepy Ta‘ū village, on the northeast side of the isle.
Interestingly, Victor is home on break from college with an NFL scholarship, and the warmth and hospitality from he and Langi is immediate and genuine.
I arrange a room swap from number 3 to number 2 so my feedline can reach the antenna — a request that understandably sounds absurd to my young hosts, but they accommodate it without hesitation.
The room is better than expected: air-con, modern, and comfy. Spirits are high. DX hopes are even higher!
Sourcing a ladder, hammer, and general odds and ends from Maintenance Guys proves easy…
Metal stakes smuggled in from Pago Pago turn out to be a smart move too.
The humidity is suffocating, sweat running like a river as the Skypper is assembled on the NBS mast, staked and guyed in three directions — the barbed-wire airport fence, a balcony railing, and a nearby BBQ shelter. Shown above, a white fold-up table becomes the operating platform. An IC-7300, 40-amp PowerTech power supply, and Lenovo laptop sit neatly next to a compass, beam-heading guide and a well-used notepad.
[The back up rig, a Yaesu FT-950, stays behind at the Tutuila Airbnb to reduce baggage costs].
Unfortunately, the lack of trees around the complex here rules out wires for other QRGs, and there’s no bamboo for a primitive mast either — not that I’m overly concerned. Eleven metres is, has, and always will be, the focus!
The final ingredient, a 25m length of Messi & Paolini coax twists through a sliding door, across the veranda, and up the mast, then all is in readiness!
At 22:45 UTC, the first CQ goes out on 27.555 MHz and I’m soon on the QSY doubling it up…
Adrenaline crackles like an over-driven amplifier as the Icom rig bursts to life.
“Talofa (Greetings), DX!”
Perched on the edge of the sea, Fitiuta Lodge offers not only comfort, but superb take-off angles to the east. Unsurprisingly, the Americas spearhead early exchanges, aided by an almost non-existent noise floor that allows weak signals to be deciphered with ease.
The early calls come in a steady stream — crisp, clear, and consistent. Congratulations to 3SD256 Castilho in São Paulo who etches his name into the history books as the first contact from this “New One”.
9AT962 Dan in British Columbia, Canada, 23SD101 Glen on the Caribbean island of Jamaica (NA-097), and 43DX234 Tom in North QLD bang the door down behind him.
By the end of January 2, 49 contacts are in the log and OC-077 has well and truly announced itself as a diamond in the American Samoa DXpedition showbag!
Day 2 — January 3
The new UTC day opens with fireworks…
At 00:01, 2NY140 Terry in New York’s Long Island (NA-026) takes pole position, detonating a long list of QSOs with the Americas, Asia and Oceania as daylight envelopes the Pacific.
Notable entries soon appear in the log: 25EK101 Tetsu on Honshu (AS-007); 268A33 Doug on Lord Howe (OC-004); and 224AT104 Ienimoa in the Gilbert Islands (OC-017), adding valuable geographic spread to the tally.
“Fa’afetai tele lava!”
Later, a supply run to the local store (shown below) for shack snacks thrusts reality into focus…
Downside of a pretty awesome variety of things, prices are eye-watering and smash the budget to smithereens: US$10 for a can of baked beans, US$115 for a carton of 24 Vailima stubbies, US$5 soft drinks, US$5 packets of chips, and US$20 for a ‘must have’ Manu’a flag.
Outside, Mt. Lata rises like a green giant, soaring to 931m and cloaked in thick, exuberant forest, as if daring complaint. Even under bright blue skies it feels deep, dark and faintly foreboding!
At the lodge, dinners hover around US$25 but it’s worth every cent…
It’s a cost offset only slightly by free breakfasts of hard-boiled eggs, toast, cereal with milk powder, banana, papaya, orange and Koko Samoa coffee.
Tonight’s feed, enjoyed on the balcony overlooking a liquid horizon with the transceiver buzzing away in the background, is a local delicacy — coconut crab with baked potato, garlic butter and rice — and it proves unforgettable.
Just before 08:00 UTC, the first EU weapons rip mics from their holster via the LP…
178AT111 Andy on the shores of the Black Sea, 35AT160 Peter in the Eastern Alps, and 90DA101 Kostas in the Greek islands fire shots.
The opening is as thin as mist, though, with only a handful of hunters in Poland and Italy — including 161EX016 Mariusz, 161AT504 Martin, and 1AT023 Loreto — infiltrating the log.
After a few hours’ sleep, and a quick update on the private Sponsors WhatsApp group, I’m back in the chair working fluttery grey-line signals, the Skypper fixed at 40 degrees SP toward NA…
Sunrise paints the sky in a technicolor dreamcoat above aqua sea, as Frigate birds celebrate above schools of Tuna offshore. Coffee made from roasted, ground cacao beans grown in nearby forests, is brewed, lady-finger bananas devoured, and the Icom HM-219 mic is soon back in hand.
Delta-Alfa callsigns dominate… 3DA018 Renner in the Land of Parrots, 2DA010 Jeff in the USA, and 34DA183 Juan Carlos on Tenerife Island (AF-004) boom through the rig’s built-in internal speaker.
Stations from Uruguay, Paraguay, Puerto Rico, Costa Rica, Venezuela and Mexico are like UFC cage fighters hunting a TKO. DX-stasy comes when 123LR002 Bob on the tiny North Atlantic island of Bermuda (NA-005) is logged just before the UTC clock ticks into Jan 4.
By the end of the day, 82 stations are worked, bringing the total to 132!
Day 3 — January 4
The day opens strongly across the Pacific…
“Manuia le taeao!” (Good morning) to 201DA282 Poerava and 201DA088 Anei on Bora Bora, 201LG044 Gerard on Raiatea (OC-067), and 201DA155 Jean-Yves on Tahiti (OC-046) who all make memorable early entries.
A hectic period follows with 3DA001 Tulio in Brazil, 196SD001 Marvin on Grande Terre Island (NA-102), and Volcano 555 Jesse in the States — operating mobile — standing out in a fast-moving log.
After midday, the traditional 11-metre siesta settles in…
The runway outside Fitiuta Lodge, wedged between ham friendly shelter and sea, becomes an unexpected distraction as aircraft roar past close enough to see what look like panicked faces in the windows. Toy-size planes scream past like silver bullets, slicing through the calm then swing round a velvet curtain of forested summits, hiding secrets behind its dense folds.
Sleep is recaptured in snatches as the rig murmurs away and the Ashes Cricket Test between the Aussies and England plays out on the screen of my Samsung.
Dinner at 18:30 UTC is scrumptious: juicy chunks of Atlantic salmon, white rice, breadfruit, and baked spuds with garlic butter…
At 07:22 UTC, 1AT485 Riccardo cracks an opening and suddenly the LP into the Freeband world’s major DX market explodes. The pile-up is extraordinary — a spaghetti mess of phonetics, digits and blind callers — but split ops preserves order as IOTA-hungry Europeans flood the log.
Through it all, the IC-7300’s scope glows like a Mardi Gras parade — bright peaks and cascading traces painting the spectrum as signals rise and fall. It’s loud, intense, and utterly addictive — the kind of opening that makes you forget the heat, the fatigue, and even the miles between you and home.
Polish DXers, led by IOTA extremists 161EX015 Jurek and 161DA015 Janusz, queue patiently before the Italian cavalry arrive at full gallop, pounding through at 5/7 signals…
Mates like 35DA035 Frank, 47DX101 John, and 13AT013 Steve punch through pandemonium, joined by ops from France, Sweden, Finland, Belgium and what feels like the entire Italian peninsula.
“Fa’afetai tele lava!”
Outside in the darkness, every antenna turn is rewarded with bites from squadrons of mosquitos the size of WWII fighter planes. By 0200 local time, the band fades, and exhaustion wins.
“Manuia le po!” (Goodnight)
After a catnap, CQ calls on 27.610 MHz just a few hours later, unleash a barrage of stations via 40 degrees…
2AT081 Aaron leads a strong US showing, joined by Alaska, Costa Rica and Martinique (NA-107).
Further highlights include 17DR044 Skippy on the Big Island of Hawaii (OC-019) and dxpedition legend 41DA981 Giovanni— finally back in the arm-chair — on New Zealand’s North Island (OC-036).
Day 3 wind-ups with an impressive 289 stations in the log.
Day 4 — January 5
Despite a promising end to the previous day, 00:01 UTC is a machete to the head…
Propagation collapses amid reports on Solar Ham of lunar disturbances. Around the shack, Terns ride invisible currents overhead, geckos scuttle across balcony rails, and the WX swings wildly — wind, storms, torrential rain, then blue skies five minutes later.
Comfortingly, a kitten seeks refuge from the worst of conditions, scrounging for scraps around my feet and becomes my new shack companion.
On Ta‘ū, the atmosphere can turn as quickly as my teenage daughter’s mood!
With the band uncooperative, the day becomes an enforced rest, broken only by modest DX highpoints…
A welcome run with AT members in the Spanish archipelago of the Canary Islands brings 34AT065 Juan, 34AT185 Victor, and 34AT031 Frank onto the dinner plate.
A standout is 3SKD737 Everton, a commercial airline pilot whose passion for both aviation and radio comms neatly bridges the worlds of flight and 27 MHz DX.
My second ever aeronautical DXperience!
With propagation subdued, I stretch my legs and walk to the Ta‘ū Village Church (See above), not far up the road…
I’m told it’s the social and cultural anchor of the village: regular services, community events, and church-led activities shape the daily rhythm of life here. With a population of fewer than 700 people on the entire island, the sense of connection—in fact—is immediate and tangible, everywhere I tread.
The island itself is immaculately kept—no litter anywhere, manicured lawns surrounding modest homes that are carefully nurtured to exaggerate their potential.
Along the way, the scent of taro and fresh coconut fills the air, and I’m drawn into the local rhythm, sharing stories with residents as I walk the street in bare feet, boardies, and a wide, Vailima grin.
Ta‘ū’s landscapes assert themselves throughout the arvo like Split Police: steep volcanic ridges plunging into the sea, dense rainforest clinging to impossible slopes, black lava rock framing brilliant turquoise water…
It’s raw, dramatic, and utterly uncompromising here.
Within this protected landscape sits Saua, an ancient and sacred site regarded as the birthplace of the Polynesian people.
As night falls, and I have my feet up back at the shack, bats squabble over fruit trees growing wild on Lata Mountain. A BBQ feast of marinated steak, sausages, bacon, and chicken rounds out the evening.
EU remains silent, and only 27 stations are added to the log before I hit the pillow, well into the early hours of morning, grateful for another amazing day on this isolated morsel of the Pacific.
Day 5 — January 6
Sunrise sees the shack stir again as grey-line maps and other prop software quietly frame the day’s possibilities…
22AGF007 Mike in the Amazonian region of French Guiana is a caffeine shot, but conditions quickly settle into a familiar resistance, refusing to open in any meaningful way.
With the band offering little encouragement, attention drifts away to dxpedition downtime…
A stroll toward the western side of the island leads to a small fishing village and port in Faleāsao, where front and rear range beacons guide vessels toward shore.
A cargo ship, the MV Talitiga, is alongside, freshly arrived from Pago Pago. There are no passengers — only freight. Shipping containers are methodically offloaded and stacked on the dock, a quiet but constant reminder of Ta‘u’s isolation and its dependence on a slow, infrequent supply line.
The air is heavy with the scent of tropical blooms, while the steady crash of waves against the reef provides an ever-present backdrop.
Further along the coast, a detour leads to Lalomanu Beach…
This is a postcard-perfect stretch of white sand edged by palms and reef, littered with beautiful shells, driftwood and fallen coconuts.
A couple of hours disappear easily, spent swimming in crystal-clear water and stretching out in the shade as palms sway overhead — a rare pause that resets both body and mindset before the evening DX session.
Back at the shack, thoughts drift to the Manu‘a Islands flag which hangs inside the room, its proud rooster symbolising vigilance, leadership and the dawn — an apt emblem for islands that have long stood watch at the eastern edge of Polynesia…
Later, my evening meal is modest and practical: noodles and canned tuna, doused in hot Tabasco sauce, and a handful of cold Taula beers.
VOACAP 11 and Proppy once again promise global reach but deliver zilch, their polished predictions more a fairytale for Kindergarten children.
A small SP opening into EU around 0500 local time finally salvages the day. 30RC555 Antonio, 30RC152 Manuel, 29AT038 Tim, 14DX076 David, and good mate 14DA049 Fred breach the log, lifting the total to 15 contacts.
The station stays on — quiet, patient — holding position on the far edge of the Pacific as another day on Ta‘u draws to a close.
Day 6 — January 7
Up with the roosters at 0500 local time, morale is a bottom-feeding sucker fish…
Fatigue bites hard and homesickness finally lands — the YL, kids, and dogs feel a long way away, separated by more than just time zones.
“Ou te misia ia te oe!” (I miss you)
Then a whisper of northern hemisphere DX via the SP cuts through the gloom. Spanish and Portuguese big guns hover just above the noise floor, lifting the fog of homesickness almost instantly.
31AT347 Nuno, 30AT252 Pepe, and 30AT021 Oscar are carefully worked — fragile, difficult signals from beyond the line of salt and sky, but just as satisfying as a cup of Koko Samoa coffee that sits alongside the rig.
Between CQ calls, thoughts drift to Ta’u’s past…
Long before rigs and runways, the Manu‘a Islands existed as a powerful and independent eastern Polynesian polity, ruled by the mighty Tu‘i Manu‘a kings. Only later were the islands incorporated into American Samoa, a sense of separation that still lingers today.
The island itself reinforces that sense of seclusion. Jungle trails vanish into dense green, sea cliffs rise straight from the ocean, and there’s an unmistakable “edge of the map” quality to everything.
My observations are that evenings arrive early and quietly, shaped around family rather than entertainment. There’s no nightlife, no ‘scene’, and few travelers passing through. Compared with Tutuila’s villages, Ta’u offers fewer options — but far more silence and sky.
During a break from the radio, I head inland to Laufuti Falls, a stunning 450 m cascade hidden in the southeastern part of the island, a few clicks southwest of the sacred site of Saua…
The walk, the cool mist at the base of the falls, and the sheer scale of the place offer a welcome reset — a reminder that this dx adventure is as much about being present as it is about piling up contacts.
As evening approaches, the island slows further…
A bell — sometimes a conch — carries across the villages, signaling Sā, the daily evening prayer curfew. For a moment everything stops. Walking ceases, voices drop, movement fades, and locals retreat indoors in quiet respect. The pause is total and deliberate, a shared stillness that settles over Ta’u before life gently resumes.
Despite another lull once the band returns, persistence pays off. By day’s end, another 100 stations are added. Not spectacular, but hard-won and meaningful, each contact reinforcing the effort it took to reach this place.
Day 6 closes quietly, resolve restored. On Ta‘u, the band gives and takes without warning — and today, it gives just enough.
Day 7 — January 8
The penultimate day opens with little promise, and the band does nothing to contradict that impression…
Over the course of the entire UTC day, only four stations are added to the log — a stark contrast to the frenetic highs earlier in the expedition. Standouts among sparse returns are 136WI136 Francis in the French West Indies and 9RC5711 Ryan on Canada’s west coast, both worked with patience and persistence rather than brute signal strength.
At sunrise, a brief flicker of life appears to the south and east…
A small run of South and Central American operators find their way through the murk, including 3CI030 Tuka in Brazil’s largest city Sao Paulo, 4AT186 in Argentina, and 10AD007 Gerado in Latin America. It’s thin, fragile DX — the kind where every syllable matters — but welcome nonetheless.
Fatigue is a constant companion now, so sleep becomes tactical. I split rest into two blocks of 3–4 hours, with the second block taken in the early arvo to ensure I’m fresh for the European window that usually stretches into the early hours of the morning. It’s not ideal, but it’s the only way to keep the station sharp when the band finally offers something worth chasing.
As evening settles in, EU makes a hesitant appearance via the LP, though only just…
31AT093 Nuno, 31AT183 Nuno, and 31LR001 Maceira are the sole European stations to survive the journey into the log, each contact hard-earned and fleeting before the band falls quiet once more.
Away from the mic, the day is softened by a traditional American Samoan feed, courtesy of an invitation I receive from village elders at a nearby fale — a reminder that not everything on Ta‘u runs on propagation charts and signal reports. Food is prepared in an umu, an earth oven heated with volcanic stones, producing rich, smoky flavours impossible to rush. Palusami, coconut cream wrapped in taro leaves, anchors the meal, accompanied by Oka I‘a, raw fish cured in coconut cream and lime, along with roasted pork and root veges.
It’s simple, communal, and deeply grounding.
Later, as darkness settles over the island, thoughts drift to one of the old Manu‘a legends — stories passed down long before written history…
Among the most enduring is the tale of the Tu‘i Manu‘a, divinely appointed rulers believed to descend from Tagaloa, the creator god. The islands were said to be chosen, protected, and set apart — a sacred eastern outpost where land, sea, and sky intersected the the wires of a cobweb antenna.
Sitting on Ta‘u, the transceiver silent and the Pacific breathing steadily beyond the reef, it’s easy to understand why these stories endure.
The day closes quietly. No late surge, no surprise opening. The silence is a vast ocean, deep and endless beneath the stars.
The log stands at 446 stations, and with conditions refusing to cooperate, acceptance replaces expectation. On a DXpedition, some days are about numbers — and some are simply about being there.
“Manuia le po!” (Goodnight)
Day 8 — January 9
As 00:01 UTC clicks over, the final 24 hours begin with at least a few DX fragments to keep me occupied…
It’s nothing dramatic, but enough to stave off the feeling of simply watching the clock run down.
24LR001 Victor in Panama, 73AT515 Iwan in Suriname, 61RC104 Jorge in Ecuador, and 158EK115 Tony in Trinidad & Tobago add some much-needed spice to a log that, at this point, risks matching the blandness of my ex-wife’s cooking!
By evening, the LP European porthole remains firmly shut, and not a single QRZ makes it through…
The band is flat, unresponsive, and clearly done with me.
The final meal on Ta‘u is quietly fitting: simple, filling, and unpretentious. Nothing exotic or ceremonial this time, just honest island food, eaten slowly, knowing it’s the last taste of a place that has tested resolve as much as it has rewarded effort. Tonight’s plate is povi masima — salted beef boiled with veges — hearty, comforting, and washed down with a 6-pack of Taula beers is perfectly suited to the moment.
Outside Fitiuta Lodge, the island keeps living its own life…
My singlet is still damp from the afternoon squall, and the air smells like wet breadfruit leaves and woodsmoke as the last light slides off the cliffs above Ta‘u.
Roosters argue in the distance, kids kick a half-flat footy along the road, and somewhere behind the houses the low thump of a drum from church practice drifts through the air.
The final flicker of EU arrives the following morning, marginal and short-lived…
31AT114 Miguel in Portugal scrapes across the noise floor, a lone voice slipping through before the band slams the door shut completely. It feels symbolic — not a pile-up, not a rush, just one last clean QSO to draw a line under the operation.
Pack-up begins early in thick, asphyxiating humidity that makes breathing feel like a bootcamp. Sleep deprivation weighs heavily, the result of squeezing every possible minute out of the last 24 hours. Nerves are frayed, patience thin, and my fuse is shorter than a dwarf’s temper.
The mast comes down. The antenna is dismantled. Coax is rolled into tight, obedient coils. Electrics are bubble-wrapped and stowed.
The final 30 minutes are spent sprawled on the bed, eyes closed, air con blasting, body present but brain already halfway home.
I’m dropped at the airstrip soon after. As soon as the airport staff spot me — shoulders slumped, face familiar, baggage clearly heavier than when I arrived — their eyes light up instantly.
Cha-ching $$$$$.
And just like that, Ta‘u releases its grip. The DXpedition is over!
SUMMARY
📌 “Fa’afetai tele lava” to the long list DXpedition sponsors whose incredible support helped make the second island activation possible…
There’s no denying that activating OC-077 as a solo operator was an challenging exercise, but the opportunity to put such a delectable IOTA entity on the air made it worthwhile.
Access to these locations is never simple, and their generous and passionate backing played a real part in offsetting the cost of 6 flights, almost 3 weeks of food and accommodation, and getting the operation on the air.
Well done to everyone who made the log, often under tough propagation conditions. Signals were frequently weak and openings short, so every QSO required patience on both ends of the mic.
Awesomely, a strong number of guys achieved the “2-pete,” successfully working both 70 Division island operations, while a select few managed to log all three activities — KH8, OC-077 and the /0 — an excellent result for those who stuck with the hunt across all stages of the trip.
Thanks to everyone who called, listened, and supported the activation.
Until the next island, “Tofa!” (Goodbye)
73 de Daz, 43DA001
LOG SUMMARY
- Number of Stations Worked: 472
- DXCC Worked: 59
- QSL Available from: 📧 DA-RC HQ OC PO Box 3140 Browns Plains LPO QLD Australia 4118 / darren43da001@yahoo.com
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