St. Petersburg native is swept to his death in Pago Pago

They were avid sailors with a streak of adventure.

They started slowly in retirement, sailing to the Bahamas. When that seemed like a breeze, they added St. Thomas. Pretty soon, it was Venezuela, then Belize and Honduras and Costa Rica. They explored the Panama Canal, Ecuador and the Galapagos Islands. Whims told them where to go next.

This week, Dan Olszewski and his wife were in American Samoa.

They took photos of lush scenery and smiled outside the StarKist Tuna plant. They sent friends a photo of a local warning sign printed with a big, white wave: Tsunami Hazard Zone.

It was amusing then. It's chilling now.

Details are fuzzy, friends said, but what appears to have happened is this:

Tuesday morning, Mr. Olszewski got off his boat docked in Pago Pago, the capital of American Samoa. An earthquake had just struck, so with his wife safe inside the boat, he loosened the lines to the dock so they could ride out big waves.

Suddenly, a massive tsunami hit. It was a monstrous natural disaster, causing at least 150 deaths and destroying multiple villages. It also grabbed Mr. Olszewski, sweeping him away. His wife, Joan, survived.

The St. Petersburg native's body was recovered later, friends said. He was 69.

"I couldn't believe it," said his classmate Bob Stewart. "Some of our other contemporaries have been ill and passed on, but these two were going to be going forever."

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He was modest in stature, sometimes quiet, sometimes mischievous.

Dan Olszewski grew up in St. Petersburg, where he spent every summer riding his bike to Mirror Lake from his home next to St. Petersburg High. He'd hang out in the sun and read fresh copies of Mad magazine.

At school, he was popular, a part of St. Petersburg High's tight-knit class of 1958 that still communicates through e-mail and has regular reunions, including a 50th anniversary blowout in 2008 at the St. Petersburg Hilton where Mr. Olszewski shared drinks and old stories with his familiar circle.

"He was very intelligent," said his classmate Wayne Mock. "You admired his sense of balance. You know, a guy that can be a prankster and still get A's in algebra."

He used his lithe frame to kick extra points on his high school's football team. He always kicked barefoot.

"He couldn't aim the football with his shoe on," said Stewart.

After graduation, the two men went off to the University of Florida and shared an apartment. Mr. Olszewski, always mathematically inclined and detail-oriented, studied engineering. He also met Joan.

"They were both very down-to-earth people, no airs, no phoniness," said Sylvia Steeves, Joan's sorority sister and Mr. Olszewski's St. Petersburg High classmate, who introduced them.

Upon meeting Joan, he never dated anyone else.

He eventually moved to Melbourne and started a career as an engineer, working with the space industry and an electronics company, friends said. The couple raised sons, Cole and Wade, who on Thursday flew to be with their mother in the tiny Pacific island cluster south of the equator.

"I always heard good things about him as a father," said Mock. "His sons were good men."

He and Joan loved to sail, and purchased a 37-foot boat named Mainly. It had two masts and two staterooms. It was big and sturdy, and Mr. Olszewski understood every detail of it. He invited his sons and family to join sails. Stewart went with him to Mexico and was part of his crew on the journey through the Panama Canal.

"He was a great sailor," said Stewart. "Just about the best I've ever been on the boat with, and I've sailed a lot. He was really good and organized and safe."

Still, friends worried about their life on the sea. Sometimes the couple would write with exciting tales of large waves and empty horizons and docking next to pirates. But they weren't afraid, and they loved to chart their course together as they went.

"I was always asking them how they were going to get back the further out they got," said Stewart.

They always said the same thing.

"We'll figure out a way."

Stephanie Hayes can be reached at shayes@sptimes.com or (727) 893-8857.