The Quiet Ripple Defines The Pond

So, I started to restore a Norfolk Gypsy, which was more or less a wreck, just over a year ago. It has been a wonderful project during which I have been much helped by many kind and skilled people. Today was historic. I sailed her for the first time.

I have gone in baby steps since putting her in the water. First it was chugging around using the engine, then bits of sailing only with the jib. Today with Nick and Rika we raised all sail and had a glorious afternoon in brilliant sunshine.

The wind was blowing more or less straight offshore and we ran out to sea with the main and jib gull-winged.

Nick is a professional boat racer and it was great to have him tell me what to do!

We ran quite along way out, went on a broad reach up the coast for a bit and then beat our way back into the harbor.

Beating back to Okinawa has always been a lengthy business in my previous boats. This time it is completely different as the boat points much better into the wind but also because Nick really knows what is doing! He uses terminology that I have never heard before, “bump, lift, being in the channel” these all refer to how the boat is responding to the wind.

We come back in with 4 taught tacks, the last taking us straight through the harbor entrance, where we elegantly take down the sails and chug onto the mooring.

Hooray! I am so pleased! Everything worked and although I might make some tiny adjustments, the boat is ready to go. I look forward to a Summer of intense happiness and joy.

The day after tomorrow I go to San Francisco. I worry about the cockpit filling up with water and so flooding the engine compartment if there is intense rain while I am away. I have been fabricating a cockpit tent that should keep out the worst of the rain.

What a great day!

Harry comes down. It is Saturday, but apart from that it is a very un Okinawan day. It is spitting with rain, very grey, with high wind and an inexplicably broken sea. We take the boat out anyway as I am determined to set the sails.

We batter our way out with the Yanmar performing heroically. It goes, ” thunka,thunka,thunka,thunka.”

There are 1 meter waves which are strangely short pitched and broken. Wind is strong. We are too scared to haul up the mainsail, which we would probably have to put 2 reefs in. I want my first mainsail experience to be calm rather than frantic.

So we chicken out but do unfurl the jib, which is a very smooth procedure thanks to Nick’s tuning.

We sail her around on jib alone and it is very encouraging. We do not go very fast but we certainly make way. Another encouraging behaviour is that, as we crash into big waves, the hull pushes them away and no water comes onboard. She appears to be a very dry boat. Anyway I am delighted.

One step nearer the Full Monty. Unfortunately, despite very overcast weather I get a very sunburnt face. I left my wide brimmed hat at home and did not apply sunscreen. I will not do that again.

I work on the cockpit cover as I am going to San Francisco next week and I do not want her to fill up with rainwater. There is a punch that er punches a hole through the fabric so you can press in eyelets. This, I immediately drop in the water. This entails a trip to Make Man, famous Japanese DIY store, to buy a new punch.

The cover is not finished but I will have it done tomorrow. What fun!

Not what you are wrapped in for the last journey but the wire cable that braces the mast. My boat has two side shrouds and a front shroud, which is actually called a forestay. The correct setting of these shrouds has a major influence on the overall sailing performance of the boat. I have no idea of how to set them up properly. I am floundering.

Nick from New Zealand and Rika from Hokkaido are old friends from the early days of the restoration. They have been away for 6 months as Nick has been racing huge yachts in Thailand. Nick is the real thing. He and Rika sailed their Bristol Channel Cutter to Okinawa from New Zealand and he has been building and racing boats all his life. They arrived back in Ginowan yesterday. Their boat is about 4 boats down from mine. I am so pleased they are back, firstly because they are fun but also because Nick knows everything about sailing boats.

The shrouds are attached to the boat by rope lashings. Nick takes one look and says they have to go. He fetches lengths of Dyneema, ultra high tech rope, and sets to .

I stand by and watch as he puts beautiful Brummel Eye Slices on all the shroud fixing ropes.

I spend a glorious couple of hours watching Nick tuning all the rigging. The mast now has just the right aft tilt, the shrouds, forestay and bobstay are perfectly adjusted. I am so happy, Thanks Nick, thanks Rika!

Just a couple of happy Japan images.

So, here is a badly made movie about the boat. What a beautiful day! The water is already warm. The marina is so clean, the water is so turquoise. View in the highest definition possible.

Okinawa

On Wednesday morning it rained like crazy. This very heavy rain is bad news as there is no self draining system in the cockpit and it fills up very quickly. The great danger is water pouring into the engine compartment. I get to the boat just in time, the water level is just an inch below the engine compartment lid.

I think I will rig another automatic switch under the grating and use Gulper to empty the cockpit when the water reaches a certain level.

The rain stops on Thursday so I try to make progress with the dive ladder installation. It is a hellish job. As I mentioned, access is terrible but add to that trying to engage nuts on the bottom of bolts that you cannot see, whilst also trying to keep heavy dive ladder in place on the transom. I fail.

Kiyuna san shows up and says he will do it. I watch. His approach is a masterpiece in practical problem solving. He cuts a large backing plate from the teak plank that my friend at the woodyard had given me.

Next he produces special nuts that have serrations on one side so you can hammer them into wood. This he does onto the underside of the backing plate. This means the nuts are all in place and all we have to do is screw down the bolts from above through the carefully measured holes and they should engage.

It is still not easy due to the restricted access but it is much easier dealing with one object, the backing plate, than lots of fiddly loose nuts and washers. He succeeds in getting all 4 bolts screwed down tight. Hooray! But wait, he has forgotten the ladder

“Only a test Neil san.” grins Kiyuna san. He then marks the position of the centre of the backing plate on the transom, drills through and screws the plate in place. It is tightly fixed in the correct position. He removes all the bolts, slaps on lots of sealant, places the ladder and bolts it down.

The whole process took less than an hour. It was a privilege to watch.

I give Kiyuna san a bottle of Islay Mist in thanks for his work on the boat.

He blesses the boat by splashing whisky around and muttering stuff.

The next day I find a package in the cabin.

The package contains 2 framed collages that Kiyuna san has created from the Islay Mist box.

Thanks Kiyuna san.

My new boarding ladder that I ordered from Amazon arrives, hand delivered, on Sunday morning.

Here’s the rub. Installation should be easy, drill four holes in the transom and bolt down the ladder. Reality is different. Access to the space under the transom is through a small opening in one of the aft lockers. You need very long and jointless arms to be able to engage the lock nuts to the bolts that hold down the ladder.

Prehensile arms are a must in small yacht restoration.

Not to worry, I can always eat the best Sashimi in the world off the best plate.

I realize that this blog has become light on the joys of living in Okinawa and heavy on boat stuff. Let’s remedy this.

Tou Cafe and Gallery is, as the name suggests a cafe and gallery. It is run by the daughters of one of Okinawa’s greatest potters, Yoneshi Matsuda.

It is such a great place. https://www.smartmagazine.jp/okinawa/article/meal/36583/

It is impossible to find and I imagine that 50% of potential clientele just drive by. I do not think they care and ostentatious signage would be vulgar. Tou cafe is not vulgar. Friend Tomomi has been decorating the cafe with her amazing Ikebana.

Today, we eat and Tomomi renews the displays.

The ladies who run the restaurant are so wonderful. They have no edge, they are not angry, they are committed to beauty, to quality and to fun. Happiness and Joy.

I buy a plate.

Tomomi does Ikebana.

Okinawa.

The boat has a fine cooker than burns what the Americans call denatured alcohol, whereas in Britain it is known as methylated spirits. Actually it is usually affectionally referred to as meths. Most of us grew up drinking it.

I go to several mega Japanese hardware stores which usually stock everything but no one has a clue what I am talking about. I show them videos of meths burning stoves but only get blank looks. Japan does not do meths. I am very disappointed as I had been looking forward to playing with my stove.

Just as I am leaving one of the stores, an Okinawan man comes up to me and explains that he had grown up in London, where he had clearly drunk a lot of meths, and directs me to a camping store. Hooray, they have meths!

I rush back to the boat as Tomomi san is coming down for a picnic. Unfortunately it is raining. I plan to eat inside the cabin but Tomomi is made of sterner stuff and insists on eating outside.

Ratatouille, fresh squid, couscous salad, lamb chops, antipasto misto, brie and er bread. Followed by strawberries and cream. All in all, a completely non japanese meal!

A very Scottish picnic, sitting in a boat in the drizzle. Actually it is quite a lot warmer than Scotland. Kiyuna san comes by and joins us. We serve him a lamb chop and then I remember he has only 2 teeth. No problem as he minces the meat with a knife and then eats it. We spend 4 hours sitting in a wet boat eating great food – highly recommended.

Before lunch we go off on a cruise. It is raining quite hard and there is a bit of a chop but Tomomi san again displays her inherent toughness and is not at all put off. I am reluctant to start sailing until I am confident that the Yanmar will always start and run. I mean she was underwater for 10 years and I expect some toothing problems. She runs perfectly and we have the best time!

It is 7 years since the Norfolk Gypsy’s bottom was caressed by sea water. For 10 years before that she lay rotting at a mooring. Today was a new start for her.

After over a year of restoration, we launched her on a glorious but very windy Okinawan day.

The guys from the Marina arrive and expertly manoeuvre her towards the boat lift.

I am anxious as there is no sign of Kiyuna san. He had said he would give me a hand and I worry about the engine not starting, and things generally going wrong. I phone him 3 times but no reply. Has he gone AWOL as he sometimes does? Oh dear.

The boat is hoisted up and decorously lowered into the harbor.

What’s that noise? Yay ! The boom of the Harley.

Getting to the sea berth is a lot of fun. The engine starts but there is a very strong wind blowing onshore and backing out of the launch berth using the engine and tiller for the first time demonstrates my lack of seamanship to the assembled crowd. They are very polite. I slowly get the hang of things and we motor to the other end of the Marina to find the berth. The GM10 chunters away very happily and despite strong wind, drives the boat along with no problem. I forgot to bring the boat hook and coming alongside is a mess. No worries, we finally get her moored safely at her new home.

So that’s it. After a year of work, the boat that was a dismal wreck is now back in the water and ready to go. Good weather is on its way and I hear Ulysses.

A little video.

Some will remember that I have been plagued by a sore wrist and not being able to use my thumb. Pain is the result if I try.

I go to the Onna clinic and they give me painkillers but say come back as the Sensei does not think that this is a cure. It is not, and I am referred to a specialist at Chubu Hospital.

The doctor speaks good English and I run through my symptoms. He is super on top of the situation, asking me to perform various movements of my hand and thumb. He says with great authority, “You have………” Here, he makes one of the strangest sounds I have ever heard from a human.

De Quervain was a Swiss surgeon who first identified this syndrome. His name is unpronounceable unless you come from Sion in Switzerland, as he did. The Japanese version is a bit like the noise a crow makes. Anyway, I have De Quervain’s syndrome.https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/De_Quervain_syndrome

He also gives me a steroid injection, which I suppose will rule me out of selection for Scotland’s World Cup squad.

The injection into my wrist is unpleasant.

This is a drag as I do not want to wear a wrist brace that hampers all movement. How can I haul up my sails? Rats!

However, big shout out to amazing Japanese health service.