The Quiet Ripple Defines The Pond

I have always loved listening to stories. My happiest memories are of awful weather in Scotland; howling winds, lashing rain, impossible to go outside. We, however, are curled up snug on the sofa and armchairs, cuddling orphaned lambs, puppies, kittens as the coal fired Rayburn pumps out heat. For entire afternoons our Mother would read us stories; Masterman Ready, Midshipman Easy, The Call of the Wild, What Katy Did, The Arabian Nights, Bosambo of the River, Swallows and Amazons. As the years passed my Mother was less inclined to spend her time reading me stories and I had to read books on my own.

This I loved too and spent far too much time reading when I should have been playing with my children or paying attention to my wife. However a decade or so ago I started listening to audiobooks. What a revelation! Someone was reading me a story! All I had to do was put my thumb in my mouth and cuddle an orphaned lamb. I almost completely stopped reading. In fact the only thing I have read in the last 10-15 years is the Marine Quarterly.

I try to read but I soon lose concentration. I wonder what Ruby Tui is doing.

I go to YouTube to check on Ruby Tui stuff and before I know it, I am watching University Challenge or Hornblower or old rugby matches or cooking programs etc, etc.YouTube is the ultimate time waster.

I can no longer just read.

Anyway, I head South to Big Sur to try to find the huge Californian Condor. Such a great drive!

I am out for 2 days but do not spot a Condor. Nevertheless, there is of course tons to see.

California is endlessly amazing but will I ever read again?

The day has come when I try to be admitted into the noble brotherhood of E Clampus Vitus! Read all about them here. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/E_Clampus_Vitus

There is an all day initiation ceremony on Saturday the details of which are kept secret beforehand. On Friday afternoon, Bebo, Ron and I show up at the meadow in the hills above Half Moon Bay where the ceremonial will take place . Wonderful place overlooking the Pacific, however sea mist invades the campsite for most of the time we are there.

I am a PBC, Poor Blind Candidate and as such am treated with disdain by those who have earned the right to wear red. We get straight to it. I mean eating and drinking. I am given humiliating fetch and carry jobs and then set to opening hundreds of oysters.

There are about 50-60 of us camped out on the meadow. Dinner is oysters, pork chops and beans.

No one drinks wine but lash down quantities of spirits with various mixers.

We sit up drinking and talking late into the night. Remarkably I have drunk no alcohol for over a week due to extreme jet lag and dysentery. However I soon find my feet again. I crawl into the camper the worse for wear.

I am immediately enlisted to cook breakfast.

After breakfast we started the initiation tests. There are strict rules. We cannot look at our instructors and have to keep our eyes on the ground. It being Fall and Half Moon Bay being a center of pumpkinoculture, a lot of the exercises are based on pumpkin stuff. There is very strict supervision to make sure we do not spill seed on the ground.

We have two history lessons. The first is by the owner of the property, also a Clamper, who gives fascinating talk on the early days of Half Moon Bay.

Then the Emperor Norton himself, head of the  Mother Lodge Yerba Buena #1 Capitulus Redivivus, hopefully my chapter to be, takes over and provides a detailed history of E Clampus Vitus. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emperor_Norton

Here is a picture of the Emperor in everyday clothes.

We have to learn history. We have to learn several songs and Clamper sign language. We play bowling using pumpkins as bowling balls. This results in much spilt seed and fury from our invigilators. Each seed has to be picked up with all pumpkin interior sludge and dropped inside the costume of a mysterious character called The Frog.

We break for lunch.

Training completed, we are blindfolded and led in single file, each holding the shoulder of the man in front, into the ceremonial hall. We have to chant Clamper songs as we go and are derided by the 50 or so Clampers who are watching.

The final induction ceremony must remain a mystery, but it involves a ancient staff!

I make it! I am admitted! What an honor for a poor boy from Scotland!

Thanks E Clampus Vitus for accepting me, a foreigner, into your ranks. Such fun, with a refreshing rejection of healthy living!

There is an onslaught of heavy drinking after the ceremonial and dinner to come. I have to get back to the city that night and so do not join. One thing that Japan has taught me is Do not Drink and Drive.

The night before I leave, we go to the local izakaya.

I then eat my way across the Pacific in United Airlines business.

All of this eating took place in less than 24 hours! Well, you do gain a day flying East to West across the Pacific

Another typhoon passes by. Luckily the worst and it seems to be bad, goes well North of Okinawa.

Notwithstanding, there is a lot of wind and rain.

Lots of birds shelter from the wind.

Tim and Mary are leaving and return to London at the end of the month. Boo hoo! A party is thrown in their honour. It is great to see lots of old OIST buddies again. There is a 15ish piece brass dance band from the University of the Ryukyus. They are called Mojo and are fantastic but very, very loud. I have become increasingly uncomfortable in places with high volume noise, I mean music. It reminds me of the trenches.

Okinawa never ceases to surprise! To celebrate Arisa’s birthday, we go to a discrete French restaurant lost in a maze of tiny streets in Ginowan. I have never heard of this place. https://www.google.com/maps/place/Bistro+Lierre+Blanc+II/@26.2897859,127.7740442,1429m/data=!3m1!1e3!4m5!3m4!1s0x34e512dab78cf0dd:0x9ea4f5260552b726!8m2!3d26.2897569!4d127.7762284

We have a wonderful meal!

So unexpected. We have the best time!

Buying octopus is a lottery. You go to the fish market but there are none to be had. https://www.google.com/maps/place/Tomari+Fish+Market/@26.2299668,127.6780316,1428m/data=!3m2!1e3!4b1!4m5!3m4!1s0x34e56a2ad8b579c7:0x5f5e66c400a87fa1!8m2!3d26.229966!4d127.6806238

Then you go back a few days later and there are lots. I have not been able to establish a pattern.

I always feel so much better when there is a huge octopus in the freezer!

Title plagiarized from Tim Hunt.

A bunch of us head North on the kind invitation of Ichiro san and Tomomi san. I drive up very slowly and delight in the van loads of election canvassers who wave at everyone wearing both white gloves and huge smiles. Saturday was polling day for representatives of the local regions and also the Governor.

Tomomi and Ichiro produce another extraordinary meal in Ichiro san’s studio.

Ichiro san produces the main course, which he has been cooking for 4 days.

What an evening!

Next morning we leave at 05:30 to track down the elusive Okinawan Rail or Yanbaru Kuina in Japanese. It is one of the rarest birds in the world. Ichiro san immediately spots one roosting.

We return to the hotel for delicious Japanese breakfast.

Such fun!

So, a much vaunted typhoon pays a call. It blustered and rained a lot but not a real typhoon. Typhoons ain’t what they used to be.

However we were told to stay inside, which resulted in 3 days of non activity. The Finnish language has a verb that means to stay at home alone drinking in your underpants.

Anyway, after a while I head off looking for birds. They come onshore to shelter from the wind.

I have the ceramic crown cemented onto my inserts. The process has taken over a year because I have not been in Okinawa enough. Anyway, my thanks to Kinjo sensei and nurse Erica for their great work and bubbling humor.

We have a Japanese white wine tasting evening – great fun. First time I have drunk Japanese wine.

Ginowan city sends me a booklet of Hello Kitty vouchers worth 5000 yen. You can exchange the vouchers for anything you want in shops in Ginowan.

It continues to be drainingly hot and I do very little. Here are some random vignettes.

There is a lot of fruit around. The Japanese revere fruit. Its appearance seems as, if not more, important than the taste- er I think. Arisa san gives me a perfect bunch of Shine Muscat grapes from Imari, her hometown.

Talking of eating, I eat almost exclusively cold meals. Too hot for Jugged Hare.

Old friend Tomoko Saito http://tomokosaito.net and her husband, play Irish music in Yomitan. It is a bizarre event in many ways. They play outside so it is extremely hot and wear coats of many colors – not very Irish!

Their little girl frequently wanders up to her mother to show her something on a phone. No one is concerned. No one tries to pull her away and Tomoko just smiles and keeps playing. Admirable.

I got to know Tomoko way back in 2016. https://thequietripple.com/2016/11/27/tricolor/ . It is great to see her again. She is a wonderful musician.

I visit Tomari fish market.

Of course I go to the dentist a lot. It is a cheap hobby.

I go down to the boat to put on new mooring lines. It is very hot and despite the fact that there are many little jobs I could do, once again the heat drives me away after 30 mins. Why is the engine not fixed? Well, several parts are needed and the ordering and delivery have been delayed by the Obon holiday and the war in Ukraine. Can’t be long now.

I drive off to Convention City the huge shopping centre just across the road from the marina.

https://www.google.com/maps/place/San-A+Ginowan+Convention+City/@26.2749467,127.7275952,17z/data=!3m2!4b1!5s0x34e56ca23189bbbf:0x6d366f48ee744400!4m5!3m4!1s0x34e56ca23198770f:0x1b99b132f2716eec!8m2!3d26.2749419!4d127.7297892

I should have walked! Above the two floors of stores, there are a further two floors of parking. I go in by a different entrance than usual and park the car in a different area than usual. However I have strong recollection that the car was close to the Tokyo Hands escalators.

https://www.google.com/maps/place/Tokyu+Hands/@26.2750827,127.6644604,13z/data=!4m9!1m2!2m1!1sTokyu+Hands!3m5!1s0x34e56ca232555555:0xb2d32eeb81b5c8cb!8m2!3d26.2750827!4d127.7303784!15sCgtUb2t5dSBIYW5kcyIDiAEBWg0iC3Rva3l1IGhhbmRzkgEWaG9tZV9pbXByb3ZlbWVudF9zdG9yZeABAA

I do my shopping and carrying a heavy bag I take the escalators up to where the car is waiting. I look for the car – she is not there. I walk up and down but I cannot find her. She should be easy to find all Japanese reverse into parking spaces so the nose of the car points out. Whereas I, an idle foreigner, just swing straight in and thus the rear of the car points out. I just have to look along the rows and spot the cars displaying there rears and one has to be mine. There are very few and mine is not amongst them.

The parking structure is very big and there are masses of cars. It is also very hot and sweat pours off me as I tramp up and down with my heavy bag. After 30 minutes of searching I start to worry. I have left the keys to the car and my apartment under the front seat and the unimaginable starts to form in my mind. Has someone stolen her? No, this is Okinawa no one steals anything.

I keep searching up and down the rows. I even search the other floors of the parking structure. Nothing. I am now distressed and panting like a hot dog. What if the thieves have gone to my apartment and stolen my flute! After an hour I go to the shopping center’s information desk and explain my difficulty. I am a sorry sight with red face and sweat dripping off me onto the beautiful clean floor. A security guard shows up and I show him a photo of the car from my phone. He is smiling and generally wonderful. He zooms off to look for the car. 5 minutes later he is back; he has found my car!

She is parked near the Tokyo Hands escalators. I must have walked past her at least 5 times but I did not see her. It is scary. Anyway, thanks security guy!

Happier stuff – Arisa takes me to a restaurant that principally serves pig ribs that have been cooked forever.

After 11 years in Okinawa, I stumble across little containers of precooked rice. These are great as I always cook far too much rice.

When I start up my computer it automatically connects to the Okinawan free wifi service, called Be Okinawa.

In the center of San Francisco I get about 40Mbps and pay far too much. Thank you Okinawa.

I don’t think I will come back to Okinawa in August. It is just too hot. I will stay in California or maybe Scotland. As the boat is still unwell, I have little to do and I begin to feel disenchanted with my beloved island. I also get food poisoning.

Not to worry, my general spleen is soon chased away by the wonderful Okinawans.

I donate my collection of Irish music CDs, which has been sitting in a cupboard in San Francisco for 10 years, to a young couple who are devotees of genre. https://www.facebook.com/irishbandnina/ They are so pleased and grateful.

They give me beautiful fruit from their garden.

I have to go up to Onna son to get some beautiful bowls from potter friend Saora san.

Tomomi san and Shinobu san join us for a fantastic meal. We go to the best restaurant in the world. I used to go here a lot and the two ladies who run the place became firm friends. I have not been back since I moved down to Ginowan – big mistake. They now have a website with English! http://www.kukurunoyado.com

Every thing we eat and drink is either grown or caught by Ishigaki san, Noda san or her husband whose name I have forgotten, so we will call him Mr Noda. They also do all the cooking.

We then get Goya Champuru and Okinawan vegetables.

What hospitality, what a welcome, what a meal, what a great evening!

So heartwarming, my delight in Okinawa is restored.

I am back in Okinawa. It is incredibly hot!

Ichiro san and Tomomi san invite me to dinner. They prepare an amazing meal that we eat in Ichiro sans studio surrounded by fabulous art. Editorial note–I have a new keyboard, the previous one died of mold when I was away. I cannot figure out how to find the apostrophe. Sorry.

We also had a delicious octopus salad and cake but forgot to take photos. We drank way too much!

Next morning, feeling like death, we set off at 6;00 to try to find the elusive Okinawa Rail.

Ichiro san is probably the best rail guide in the world.

What a first day back!