The Quiet Ripple Defines The Pond

My principal occupation over the last weeks has been trying to please AMFIE, https://www.amfie.org/en

This lot look after my pitiful pension from CERN. They are dreadful. Apparently it is time to update my file. They demand a slew of documents amongst which are: a notarized copy of my passport, a gas bill, my last tax return in Japan, letter from OIST stating I have retired, my last salary at OIST, my end of contract letter from CERN, 23 years ago!, my U.S. Social Security Number, Japanese My Number, and so much more. They are insane. Do not go near them! I run around from office to office of confused Japanese administration, who are very suspicious. It is pure Kafka.

The boat resurrection has slowed somewhat as big business has to be done. The metal sleeve has to be placed over the top of the mast, not under my control. The new rope for the rigging has not arrived yet. Let’s not talk about the new jib and roller reefing system . I have faith in Mitsuda san.

The copper wraps around the mast to prevent wear from the gaff jaws, if you see what I mean. The copper sheet has a mind of its own and does not want to be wrapped. It springs away. It is happy laying pretty much flat and it is a struggle to get it wrapped tightly around the mast. It is a job that needs six people to keep the copper from springing away.

As the needle for my annual free flu jab slides into my upper arm, I mention to the doctor that my family in England seem to have had 7 Covid jabs. I have only had three. I feel inadequate.

“You want more?” the doctor asks a bit incredulously. Tomorrow I go for my fourth.

Son James comes over to get the lovely, little boat back on her feet again after near sinking and severe damage in the last typhoon. I am old, stiff, rib damaged and generally poor at manual things. James is young, supple and amazingly good at manual things of all varieties.

This post will be essentially narrative free. There is far too much to write about. We have had ten days of restoring the boat in blazing sun and torrential thunderstorms. You will have to get the gist through lots of photos, videos and runic captions. It has been the best fun!

We take the boat out of the water and set to a major clean and refurbishing.

Once the grime, seaweed, shells and crabs are removed we move the boat away from the lifts to get on with the work.

The plan is to strip out all the rotted wood, slide a copper tube down the middle of the mast as a central support, loads of epoxy mixed with sawdust and finally a titanium or maybe gold sheath.

One of the strands of the forestay has unravelled. Oh dear, I need a new forestay with eye splices at each end. Kiyuna san turns up with a good length of perfect wire cable that he had hanging around. Next day a man called Teru san shows up to make a new forestay!

Kiyuna san repacks the stern gland. This is a job that I have failed at over the years but Kiyuna san makes mincemeat of it. We have a hilarious trip around Naha boat shops trying to locate packing rope.

I still have to replace the halyards. I need a new jib and jib furling system. We have to epoxy and sheath the mast head. It will get done.

So, many thanks to Kiyuna san and all the other Okinawan boat people who have been invaluable. Above all thanks to James who spent a 2 week vacation sweating it out in a scorching Okinawan boatyard. Maybe I could start an adventure holiday business.

A foundation of meaningful pleasure is contrast. I mean if you drink Champagne all the time, it becomes mundane. In the last two days I have had meaningful eating.

Arisa’s birthday – we go to a tiny restaurant that has seven seats. The owner does the cooking, the serving the chat, the drinks and I imagine the washing up. Wonderful man. It is a set meal and crikey it is so Japanese and so good!

We have the best time. A guy sitting close to us understands that it is a birthday party and buys us high quality Shochu. “I am a Shochu sommelier!” he proclaims. The set meal is 2500 yen or, as friend Greta points out, the price of a sandwich in Geneva.

The next night Ichiro san, Tomomi san and I get together for the first time since the wedding of the century. https://thequietripple.com/2023/07/07/fairytale/

About seven years ago I meet a young couple hanging around the OIST entrance. Evan is American, Maki is Japanese and she is finishing her degree in Marine Science at the University of the Ryukyus. I encourage her to apply for a doctorate position at OIST.

Maki got her doctorate earlier this year – yay! She has also had a child – yay! Evan studied the art of charcuterie and has won several prizes for his produce. They opened The Bacon Bar Japan, which has become one of the most successful restaurants in Okinawa. https://www.google.com/maps/place/Bacon+Bar+Japan/@26.387351,127.8256247,17z/data=!3m2!4b1!5s0x34e50fca3b2f8629:0x1e4af3f159917673!4m6!3m5!1s0x34e50f04ba150bc9:0xdbfbc6e1d957e09b!8m2!3d26.3873462!4d127.8281996!16s%2Fg%2F11h5k_xv1v?entry=ttu

I am so pleased for them.

It is an excellent restaurant, go there!

Two great nights out – so different but both so much fun.

You will remember that Jack Aubrey https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jack_Aubrey has to bring his badly damaged ship to Desolation Island to make repairs. https://www.google.com/maps/place/Grande+Terre/@-49.187292,69.3142365,82938m/data=!3m1!1e3!4m6!3m5!1s0xb36b481ca16fd0e7:0xb9964abcebd3657f!8m2!3d-49.3948275!4d69.3544625!16s%2Fm%2F0lc9n1w?entry=ttu

I am back in Okinawa and, having more or less recovered from the major bash I had, can get on with repairing my poor boat that has been much distressed by typhoon damage.

However, Okinawa is not Desolation Island – far from it!

There are two major problems to be fixed; the jib is ripped to shreds and the jib furling equipment is smashed beyond redemption. The beautiful cockpit cover has had big chunks torn out of it. Who are you going to call? Mitsuda san of course. https://thequietripple.com/2019/11/07/a-cover-up-2/

He is a cooling stream to a panting hart. We have very little language in common but we understand each other. He will repair the cover, cut a new jib and track down the best furling system that will certainly be different yet probably much better than the original. Hooray!

Those are the big jobs but there are many, many other things that need to be done. I plead with son James and he agrees to come over for some time to help me out. Thanks James!

Laughing, coughing and sneezing are still very painful but I am on the mend and now look forward to a period of fun boat repair.

Okinawa is not Desolation Island.

I am invigorated!

Friend Eli gets me a first class ticket on JAL for less than the Expedia economy price! I do not know how he does it but if you are going to fly internationally always contact eli@jetnsave.com. Drop my name, it will make all the difference!

Anyway, once home, I set off to get a rental car. I trip on a manhole cover just outside my place and wham down on my ribs. It is a very heavy fall. I have no time to break my fall with my hands nor knees nor head. I go down like a felled Giant Redwood, but faster. Ouch! I do not feel too bad but definitely shaken.

The pain does not go away, in fact it gets much worse. I cannot take deep breaths nor move easily. The next day, I go to the doctor who refers me to a nearby orthopaedics clinic. No good as nobody speaks English. I am downhearted, very jet lagged and in pain. I am rescued by Arisa san who makes an appointment for me at a great clinic. Thanks Arisa.

I went to this clinic years ago when I had meniscus problems. https://thequietripple.com/2014/07/17/i-bury-my-heart-at-wounded-knee/

I think all clinics and hospitals Japan are private businesses. Doctors and nurses are employed by the clinic not the Government. The clinics bill the Government and the patient pays a small percentage. I pay 1,160yen for my treatment.

Lots of X-rays and thorough examination by Wantanabe sensei. He says that nothing is broken but there is severe deep bruising and there is nothing he can do do about it. He suggests painkillers but I explain that I am from Scotland. He says the pain should go away in a week or so and that I should take it easy.

I like taking it easy! It is my hobby.

My journey North and back was dominated by my swollen face. It was very bad and made it difficult to talk, to eat, to whistle etc. I also felt miserable. A pity. As fate would have it, lots of old friends were clustered around the Port Townshendish area and I did not go to see any of them due to my shame, vanity and overall discomfort.

So I gently trundle South through Washington, Idaho, Nevada and finally back to California. My cheek gently deflates as the days pass. I feel ever more gleeful as we bumble through incredible ountryside .

I camp in amazing places and spend 2 or3 days in some particularly fine spots.

I avoid all major roads and zig zag my way through thousands of miles of empty country.

I cook every night over a camp fire with the trusty skillet.

I am away for 15 days of boy scoutery and drive 2,600 miles. Good way to pass the time. Thank you North West for your incredible countryside.

The truck gallantly shepherds me back to San Francisco.

I go down to Stanford to make sure everything is Ok now they have a new President and Provost.

I try to fight it off but it is no good, I have to snuffle around in the undergrowth pretending to be a Bear or an Eagle. I set off to drive Highway 101 from San Francisco to its terminus in Port Angeles, Washington. There I will catch a ferry to Victoria Island where a friend will give me local knowledge on snuffling. Thence East through British Columbia to emerge somewhere in Montana. If I and the truck are in good Nick we will then make our way back to San Francisco. There is no route planned.

The drive up the pacific coast takes about 3 days and is fabulous.

I eat a lot of fish and chips.

Unfortunately I wake up one morning with a grotesquely swollen face. At first I think this is a prelude to more major dental surgery but as time goes on I have no pain in my teeth just my jawbone and face. I now realise that a rattlesnake something similar must have slithered into the camper during the night to embrace my cheek. Anyway it is a huge drag as I both feel and look monstrous. It is even difficult to open my mouth sufficiently to gobble fish and chips.

Just before I get on the ferry to Canada, I check my documents. Oh no, I have left my green card in San Francisco. I can go to Canada but getting back into the States will be very difficult and definitely wildly expensive. I am so stupid.

I drive to nearby Port Townshend where an Englishman, Leo, is rebuilding a classic sailing boat. If you are one of the few people that does not follow his YouTube channel, you can start now. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oET1gNnK73I Watch from the beginning of the project a couple of years ago.

So I decide to explore Washington and Idaho.

After 10 days of camping I get a motel room so I can post on the blog.

In 1987, I bought a chopping block from our local butcher, Monsieur Prost, in Collonges Fort L’Ecluse. It is a fantastic thing. The slab is made from hundreds of square oak blocks and the undercarriage is very solid pine of some sort. It weighs a ton!

It has travelled from France To California, then California to France and France to California again. It is now in the apartment in San Francisco. We used it as a work bench and it has suffered.

I decide to restore it to its former glory.

I make very little progress, the oak blocks are very hard and dismiss my little sander with a Gallic shrug.

James suggest we get a serious belt sander. This changes the game.

The new sander does a much better job. We spend hours sanding off the stains and damage.

I also give 3 coats of varnish to the undercarriage.

I am not very happy with final result. The teak oil I use on the boat in Okinawa brings out the texture and grain of the wood with little change in colour. This teak oil stains the wood a strange turmeric/yellow. Still it is much better than before and I am glad to give new life to the chopping block that must date from the heroic era of French butchery in the 40s or 50s.

On a different subject, the house renovation has been static for the last 4 months. This is great as we pay much reduced rent whilst the work is ongoing.

A big superstructure has been built onto the back of the house to give more room.

It is also a great place to sit and look out onto the backyard.

We buy a bench to sit on.

Simple pleasures.

Not good news I’m afraid. A huge typhoon ripped through Okinawa yesterday. 100 knot winds for several hours and 1ft of rain!

https://weather.com/storms/hurricane/video/typhoon-khanun-turns-deadly-as-it-lashes-okinawa-japan

The boat has suffered. The cover ripped and blew off. The boat filled with water. The cockpit hatch and washboards also blew off and the cockpit filled up as well! Luckily heroic friend Harry Wilson got to her and bailed her out before she sank. Thanks Harry!

Somehow the forestay and the roller reefing system broke loose. The jib unfurled and is badly ripped but worse is the luff spar was bent into a pretzel shape.

I have to get a new roller reefing system and luff spar. Not sure how to do this.

Does anyone know who supplies these for Gypsies ? I can contact them and hope they have agents in Asia. Fingers crossed.

Interestingly I recently replaced the tarditional lashings for the forestay and side shrouds with turnbuckles. I could never get the shrouds tight with the lashings. The wind unscrewed two of the turnbuckles releasing the forestay and port shroud. I thought the lock nuts were tight but clearly not.

The Jib halyard must also have snapped or uncleated itself which caused the luff spar and jib to crash down to subsequently bend and rip.

I am beginning to think that boats that do not self drain have short life expectancy in Okinawa. Even the best covers blow off in 100+ knots of wind!

I am in San Francisco and am trying to get the boat taken out of the water until I go back to Okinawa in the autumn. Who knows how many more typhoons will blast through while I am away. Hilarious long distance conversations with Marina folks who do not speak English. They have been very kind and I think they will lift the boat out for me. Good friend Kiyuna san is on the job so everything will be OK!

As I stand before the house in San Francisco, I notice two things, the house is looking ever more derelict and that it is blissfully cool. Bright sun, blue sky but cool! What delight! I thought I was going to be a statistic for old people death in sweltering Japan.

Next morning I set off early to get my coffee at Central Coffee. https://www.google.com/maps/place/Central+Coffee+Tea+%26+Spice/@37.774305,-122.4468478,17z/data=!3m1!4b1!4m6!3m5!1s0x808580b283f9a8a7:0x69505be0a9a95b6f!8m2!3d37.7743008!4d-122.4442782!16s%2Fg%2F1tfqg0gz?entry=ttu

I turn the corner of Fell onto Central and this is what I see.

No longer in the benign, blossomy, boroughs of Okinawa but on the mean streets of San Francisco. It is however delightfully cool. Walking back home, all of 600 meters, I notice several self driving. cars.

As far as I understand, you can’t buy one yet but they do run a taxi service. I applied immediately but the service is massively oversubscribed.

I stroll up Haight to get some bird food and even some food for James and me. I shop at Gus’s, a fantastic place.https://gussmarket.com such quality, such choice.

On James’ last adventure in the truck, a good size branch went through one of the back tires. We need a new tire and also a new wheel mounting stud. Off we go early on Saturday morning to Larkin Brothers Tires. What a great place! The usual Californian bonhomie linked to complete efficiency. ” Sure we can fix that, you fellas grab some breakfast and we’ll give you a call.”

We are in the Mission.

James takes me to his favourite diner.

As we are on Mission St, we walk down to one of the amazing seafood shops.

As we pay for our mussels, oysters and octopus, the phone rings, “All fixed my friend, just come over when you want.” We stroll through the cool, temperature wise, and cool, culture wise, Mission. We pick up restored truck – so easy!

Hooray, back in San Francisco!