The Murdering Canons Roar

Following the failure of Sea, Sex and Sun, I look elsewhere for gratification. Of course I find it at Okinawa Boot Sales in the form of an underwater camera. I had one before but it was really poor and finally gave up the ghost. Happily, you might say as this blog has been less blighted by out of focus shots of exotic fish just leaving the frame.

So I got an outstanding deal on a Canon G10 underwater set up. The G10 is an outstanding camera and this outstanding one looks brand new.

A few years old but never used.

A few years old but never used.

The underwater case thing is brand new.

The underwater case thing is brand new.

About 60 meters from my computer is a big lump of rock.

“Do you see yonder cloud that’s almost in shape of a camel? Polonius: By the mass, and ‘tis like a camel, indeed. Hamlet: Methinks it is like a weasel. Polonius: It is backed like a weasel. Hamlet:	Or like a whale? Polonius: Very like a whale.”

“Do you see yonder cloud that’s almost in shape of a camel?
Polonius: By the mass, and ‘tis like a camel, indeed.
Hamlet: Methinks it is like a weasel.
Polonius: It is backed like a weasel.
Hamlet: Or like a whale?
Polonius: Very like a whale.”

Underneath there are coral and fish. I rush out as the sun goes down.

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; And thus the native hue of resolution Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, And enterprises of great pith and moment With this regard their currents turn awry, And lose the name of action.--Soft you now! The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons Be all my sins remember'd!”

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
And enterprises of great pith and moment
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.–Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my sins remember’d!”

“Lord Polonius: What do you read, my lord?  Hamlet: Words, words, words.  Lord Polonius: What is the matter, my lord?  Hamlet: Between who?  Lord Polonius: I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.”

“Lord Polonius: What do you read, my lord?
Hamlet: Words, words, words.
Lord Polonius: What is the matter, my lord?
Hamlet: Between who?
Lord Polonius: I mean, the matter that you read, my lord.”

I think I am going to have fun with this.

 

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Sea, Sex and Sun

I never understood what the French saw in Serge Gainsbourg. I remember the national outpouring of grief when he died in 1991.

http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x1chun_jt-antenne-2-mort-de-serge-gainsbou_people

Anyway one of his dirges was Sea, Sex and Sun.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p1MVyenU78w

 

Sitting in my office last week, the refrain would not leave my head so I sprang from my desk and headed out to sea, in the blazing sun. I had not gone very far when I realized that the throttle cable on my motor was jammed. Okinawa is a terrible place for mechanical things as the humidity generates rust more quickly than my toes used to generate Athletes Foot.  I turned around and started  to free it up by spraying gallons of WD 40 down the cable sleeve. As usual what at first appeared to be quite straight forward turned out to be very fiddly. I had to dismantle the whole engine casing thing, free the cable from the carburetor and generally fiddle with my sausage like fingers in restricted space whilst holding a screwdriver, some allen keys and various screws and nuts in my mouth. I finally fixed the throttle cable but in doing so of course lost the screws that keep the casing together and a little grid thing. I am a terrible mechanic.

Notice the rust after a couple of months

Notice the rust after a couple of months

It is now 6:00 and my afternoon of Sea, Sex and Sun has not happened. The engine works fine but as I row back in from test run, I manage to snap an oar blade. I blame Gainsbourg.

I managed to get replacements very easily and the nice man in the sea stuff shop gave me an ice cream

I managed to get replacements very easily and the nice man in the sea stuff shop gave me an ice cream

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Manboobs

So, I thought I was being particularly perceptive in noticing that the manhole covers around these parts are varied and creative.

I blustered about this to colleague, expecting her to be impressed by my insight. Not so, she replied,  ” Duh, well, like, of course-Japan is famous for its manhole covers.”

I am put in my place.

Outside my house

Outside my house

On the road again

On the road again

 

Bee loud glade

Bee loud glade

Rocky road - a lot of work has gone into this

Rocky road – a lot of work has gone into this

Galactic

Galactic

Come on stupid, don't play dumb with me!

Come on stupid, don’t play dumb with me!

So that is just this evening’s catch on the way home.

If you want to grasp the size of the er, like, you know, thing; look at these photos.

 

http://www.flickr.com/groups/japanese_manhole_covers/

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Tokyo Belongs to Me

I am delighted that Tokyo will host the 2012 Olympics. The Japanese are such wonderful people. Tokyo is such a great city.

Me and a few o’ my cronies
One or two pals o’ my ain
We went into a hotel and we did very well
Then we came out once again
Then we went in tae another
And that’s the reason I’m fu’
We had six deoch and dorus and then sang a chorus
Listen, I’ll sing it to you

I belong to Tokyo
Dear old Tokyo town
Well what’s the matter with Tokyo
For it’s goin’ ‘roon and ‘roon
I’m only a common old working chap
As anyone here can see
But when I get a couple of drinks on a Saturday
Tokyo belongs to me

There’s nothing in being teetotal
And saving a shilling or two
If your money you spend you got nothing to lend
Well that’s all the better for you
There’s nae harm in taking a droppie
It ends all your trouble and strife
It gives you a feeling that when you get home
You don’t give a hang for your wife.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KNrVkDqPsbM

Hooray!

I’m only a common old working chap
As anyone here can see
But when I get a couple of drinks on a Saturday
Tokyo belongs to me

There's nothing in being teetotal  And saving a shilling or two  If your money you spend you got nothing to lend

There’s nothing in being teetotal
And saving a shilling or two
If your money you spend you got nothing to lend

 
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To express objections or criticisms in bitter, harsh, or abusive language.

I have always been very good at getting up in time. I have never owned an alarm clock. I just say to myself, “Tomorrow you get up at 4:oo.” and I wake up at 3:55.

On Saturday I was programmed to go a hunting the Rail. The Okinawa Rail is a heap rare bird as it only lives in the far northern forest of this one island, lost in the East China sea.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Okinawa_Rail

There are only some hundreds left and as they skulk in deep bush, seeing one is not given to all.

As luck would have it, I meet a man who lives in Rail country and he kindly offers to take me Rail spotting. I leap at the chance and we arrange to meet in Yanburu at 6:00am on Saturday. This means leaving my house at 4:00. I love this stuff  – an adventure.  I settle to sleep and dream of early morning stumbling around dripping bush in misty Okinawan mountains with happy Okinawan Rail guru.

At 3:30  I wake up and I wake up again at 6:00. Humiliation. I overslept.  This was a bitter blow to my self-esteem. Not only had I betrayed my friend who had so willingly set up the trip, but also I had missed my kill.  I did not pin my buck. I am old and useless to the pack.

This actually made me quite miserable for some time as I  take it for granted that age will not wither me quite yet. There are increasingly convincing arguments to the contrary.

I pull myself from the slough of despond and determine that if I am not to see the dawn Rail maybe I can catch the dusk Rail.

I drive North. I pass the Delectable Mountains

I drive North. I pass the Delectable Mountains

I cross the Valley of the Shadow of Pineapples

I cross the Valley of the Shadow of Pineapples

A Redshanks by the Wicket Gate

A Redshank by the Wicket Gate

By dusk I have reached The Enchanted Ground where the Rail doth live. Will my pilgrimage end in Doubting Castle or the Celestial City? I drive around and walk up and down but it all seems futile. There are hundreds of thousands of hectares of forest, what chance have I, a toothless wolf?

I am driving very slowly along of forest road when a Rail bursts out of the undergrowth and scampers across the road.

Charity

Charity

Wow! All too fast and unphotographable so I decide to park and watch. Maybe it will come back. It is very quiet, very sort of jungly, hot and humid with butterflies. I watch and wait or vice versa. I stare at the road with great concentration when distracted by a butterfly I look to the side. I see this.

The Celestial City

The Celestial City. Click on the photo

Hmmm, what can I say? What is pleasure? Different for everybody I suppose but for me this is it, in a very pure form.

I stay for 30 minutes and  many Rails put on a show to demonstrate that despondency should be resisted.

Hobgoblin nor foul fiend
Can daunt his spirit,
He knows he at the end
Shall life inherit.
Then fancies fly away,
He’ll fear not what men say,
He’ll labor night and day
To be a pilgrim.

The Land of Beulah

The Land of Beulah

House Beautiful

House Beautiful

It was a wonderful experience. What is pleasure?

I turn South and West.

I see a Bull-Headed Shrike. Exceptionally rare.

I see a Bull-Headed Shrike.
Exceptionally rare. Click to get bigger version

Untitled

Untitled

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Eyeless in Ishikawa

I bought some new prescription sunglasses, which arrived last Friday. I had 3 pairs of sunglasses 3 months ago but I broke or  lost all of them in quick succession. I had glibly said to the spectacle shop guy, optometrist?, to use  the same prescription as my current glasses, which I had bought at the same shop a year or so ago. After the initial rush of,  “Hooray I have new glasses,” I gradually had to admit that I could not actually see very much. This was brought into very clear focus when I went birdwatching today.

I peered and squinted with both normal and dark glasses. What’s more both pairs of binoculars, admittedly cheap and old, went on sympathy strike with my glasses and refused to focus. I had to watch birds by sense of smell.

Black Winged Stilt - look at those legs

Black Winged Stilt – look at those legs

More legs

More legs

I had had an uneasy sense that something was happening to my eyesight over the last few months. Essentially it is better than it has ever been.  I do not need glasses except for long distance stuff. The ones I have are too er strong. Is this the only occasion whereby old age brings physical improvement?

Hot Cattle Egrets

Hot Cattle Egrets

Marsh Sandpiper

Marsh Sandpiper

Little Ringed Plover worries

Little Ringed Plover worries

Little Egret - notice yellow foot

Little Egret – notice yellow foot, unfortunately pretty much masked by slime in this photo. If you click on these photos you get a much bigger version.

Black Winged Stilt flees or flies - you choose.

Black Winged Stilt flees or flies – you choose.

Anyway I go to my specs shop, it is 4:30 on Sunday afternoon.

I wonder what they sell here?

I wonder what they sell here?

They are delighted to see me and rub me all over with scented oils. They are terribly distressed to hear that I cannot see and immediately test my peepers. Sure enough my eyesight has changed dramatically, from -2.50 gigapeepers to -1.25 gigapeepers.   I had better get some new glasses. I choose frames and then wander off to buy some binoculars. 40 minutes later, my glasses are ready. They say they will replace the lenses in my shades for free. Oh, the ease of living in Japan. Thanks everybody.

Thanks

Thanks

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Rowan Tree

Today I had the privilege of representing the university at the Shinto ceremony to prepare for the construction of our new Child Development Centre. Before the diggers rumble in, the spirits who inhabit the place have to be warned and apologized to for the disturbance. There is an elaborate ceremony in 32 degree heat during which there is a series of incantations from the priest, miming of slashing, digging and hammering by the major players, a blessing of the four corners of the site, offerings of branches the significance of which I have forgotten, then finally sake drinking. It takes about an hour. It is really hot!

The stage is set

The stage is set

He is howling

He is howling

I have to play a significant role as host. First I have to mime slashing down undergrowth with 3 swipes of the sickle, emanating a convincing mixture of grunt and screetch at each gesture. There is much bowing before and after. I worry about getting it wrong.

Sorry grass sprits

Sorry grass spirits

Big builder boss bashes

Big builder boss bashes

The architect practices vampire extermination

The architect practices vampire extermination

Salt and vinegar?

Salt and vinegar?

I then have to offer the branch of er, um, I forget with complex bowing and clapping.

Our team claps

Our team claps

Why man, that's my hobby

Why man, that’s my hobby

Anyway as I am sitting there I mull over the fact that Shinto is not that different to west highland belief. For example the holy Rowan tree must not be cut down lest disaster falls on those implicated. Also there was a strong tradition of not insulting the Broonie, a kind of familiar spirit, for he would certainly have his revenge. Indeed various lochs and hills also had strong spiritual connections. My Father blocked the construction of a house in the village for many years as it meant the felling of a Rowan.

Oh there arose my father's pray'r In holy ev'ning's calm How sweet was them my mother's voice, In the martyrs' psalm Now a'are gane! We meet nae mair aneath the rowan tree But hallow'd thoughts around thee twine O'hame and infancy Oh rowan tree

Oh there arose my father’s pray’r
In holy ev’ning’s calm
How sweet was them my mother’s voice,
In the martyrs’ psalm
Now a’are gane!
We meet nae mair aneath the rowan tree
But hallow’d thoughts around thee twine
O’hame and infancy
Oh rowan tree

After his death the house was built and lo it is the very house in which I stayed during Bobby’s wedding. I lie not in stating there was a moment of incertitude as to whether it was a good thing to sleep a house built over the  site of Rowan abuse.

The desecrated tree stood just near the gate.

The desecrated tree stood just near the gate.

As you know from previous blogs, my journey home was blighted by the loss of my suitcase and the mysterious uncorking of  a bottle of whisky whose contents were distributed around the interior. As I bowed before the Shinto altar I realized that the Broonie had punished me justifiably for sleeping on  ground tainted by unhappy spirits.

He totally understood the Rowan tree  dilemna

He totally understood the Rowan tree dilemma

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Cobblers

My brother Ian, doyen of all things cooking outside, gave me a Cobb. Check: https://quietripple.wordpress.com/2012/10/31/cobb/

I have essentially done all my cooking on it since. I was much impressed by watching Algerian ladies in the early 70s, cooking family meals on the balconies of lavish Art Nouveau apartments in Oran. They had just moved in from the country with their sheep, which were tethered in the marble-clad lobbies, and they cooked on tiny terracotta charcoal devices – no gas, no electricity, what are you going to do?

The Cobb is similar to their devices in that it uses very little fuel for maximum effect.

Ian kindly gave me a  new Cobb fetish item while we were in Scotland – a griddle. This means I can now have food with lines on it.

new paradigm

new paradigm

After my sea adventures I attempt a new Cobb cooking technique – the slow cook casserole.

Squid for the salad, beni imo, pork for slow cook

Squid for the salad, beni imo, pork for slow cook

Carrots and stock

Carrots and stock

I light the fire and drift off to play with my boat and watch the sunset.

A sunset that I miss rankles

A sunset that I miss rankles

Ragout or civet?

Ragout or civet?

I then grill squid for the salad.

Where is the sick squid you owe me?

Where is the sick squid you owe me?

What a machine the Cobb is.

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Sunday, Sunday

You really have to love weekends in late August in Okinawa; especially if you have a boat.

Up early and off to Zampa.

Virginia Wolf

Virginia Wolf

I fish, I snorkel, I watch birds, I be in boat.

Ba-da ba-da-da-da Ba-da ba-da-da-da Ba-daba-da-da-da

Ba-da ba-da-da-da
Ba-da ba-da-da-da
Ba-daba-da-da-da

Sunday, sunnday (ba-da ba-da-da-da) So good to me (ba-daba-da-da-da)

Sunday, sunday (ba-da ba-da-da-da)
So good to me (ba-daba-da-da-da)

I catch lots of little fish

I catch lots of little fish

Westering home

Westering home

 

 

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Get a Little Action in

Saturday night I hear the beat of the drum. Venturing out I see a big Eisa dance group doing their thing just up the road.

My sister looks cute in her braces and boots A handful of grease in her hair

My sister looks cute in her braces and boots
A handful of grease in her hair

Have a look at the video. This is 30 metres from my front door.

http://youtu.be/dkmtBSuG_4k

It is the greatest fun. When they finish the performance I join in on peace and love dance, which Chinen san taught me a few weeks ago. We drink beer and they start throwing people up in the air.

Don't give us none of your aggravation We had it with your discipline

Don’t give us none of your aggravation
We had it with your discipline

Amidst the fun, I am grabbed and they hurl my walrus-like body high in the air.  I was frankly amazed as I am no lightweight. Thanks people I had a great time.

It's seven o'clock and I want to rock Want to get a belly full of beer

It’s seven o’clock and I want to rock
Want to get a belly full of beer

Then I go fishing.

I have had my Chinese motor for 6 weeks and it still works!

I have had my Chinese motor for 6 weeks and it still works!

Get about as oiled as a diesel train Gonna set this dance alight 'Cause Saturday night's the night I like Saturday night's alright, alright, alright

Get about as oiled as a diesel train
Gonna set this dance alight
‘Cause Saturday night’s the night I like
Saturday night’s alright, alright, alright

And so to bed.

 

 

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