Low in the Water

It rained a lot when I was in Hawaii and this means that the faithful Scaffie fills up with water. This means that she is very low in the water and pulls harder on the anchor line  risking a dragging situation.

There were several reasons wherefore I could not get out to bale her. The first was that Tuesday was the last day of Obon. On this day the ancestors return to the sea and Naoko forbade me absolutely from going into the ocean. The second was work, which is increasingly getting in the way of having a good time.

So I finally make it out to the boat on Saturday morning.

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Not too bad.

On Friday night we say bye bye to Wilko.

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Takoyaki!

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Arisa brings beautiful grapes from her home town.

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Something like Paella

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Another leg of lamb goes the way of all flesh. Thanks Saha for the help.

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Yay Wilko!

Great fun but frankly too hot. I sweat enormously, feel very self conscious and ugly. The Japanese women are all fresh and beautiful. How do they do it?

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Home from Home

I have a free day on Saturday before long trek back to Okinawa. I tremble with anticipation. I am on a remote island in the middle of the Pacific and this means only one thing – new birds!

I set off for a park at the end of Waikiki Beach that sits just under Diamond Head.

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It is where all the trees are and goes way back

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This woman is trying to get there before me.

I have found that the most successful technique for this kind of birding is to sit somewhere and wait. At first it seems that not much is happening but little by little I start to notice stuff er like birds. This is a very calming process. Striding through the trees is no good at all.

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Yellow Fronted Canary

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Not very good photo of Java Sparrows

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Red-vented Bulbul

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Zebra Dove

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Common Waxbill

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Rose-ringed parakeet

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Mynah Bird – but not in a cage.

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Red-crested Cardinal

I have rarely enjoyed myself more. The weather is beautiful, the park is fragrant, I am totally engrossed. These are all new birds to me. My only regret is the White Tern of which there were lots but I was unable to get a reasonable photo. Beautiful birds.

On the walk back, I come across an open area where there is a massive Okinawan festival going on. Home from home.

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Girls getting ready for dance performance.

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Traditional Okinawan orchestra, of which there lots, singing their hearts out.

I also stumble across a Hula dance school. This was serious stuff. The teachers were very picky and the girls went through the routines over and over. This was not languid hip swaying hula but very fast, athletic hula. Amazing.

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I hope you win.

Wonderful day.

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Uchinanchu

I go to the University of Hawaii. The event is at the conference center called the 1 min conference center. I take this as a very good omen.

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This is the sort of conference I like

The conference starts with a dancing lion.

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This a Lion, not  Governor Ige. The Governor, whose family came from Okinawa, is on stage. It is not a real Lion.

This is the first time I have given a talk wearing extravagant colored necklaces called Lei. It makes me extraordinarily happy.

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A selfie break when I forget what I am talking about.

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Presidents of the: East West Center, where Obama’s Mummy met his Daddy, University of Hawaii, Meio University, University of the Ryukyus, Prefectural University of the Arts. What fun!

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Thursday

I wake early and generally scurry around to prepare for the trip. However it is Naoko’s birthday and this cannot be left uncelebrated. I can just squeeze in celebration at work and then limo to airport. Naoko is late so I benefit with amazing breakfast of rice porridge and pickles. There is some pressure. Will I make it to the airport in time?

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Maki san is the best

Naoko arrives and we celebrate! The day has just begun.

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Glamorous people I work with.

I make it to the airport and head off for Narita.

ANA is the best airline in the world.

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Narita snack.

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They have their own sushi chef

I then get on a big airliner and head off East.

The flight is heavenly. The Japanese do service so well.

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Matsukawa san welcomes me. 

As I am sneaking out of the toilet towards the end of the trip, the flight attendants gather around me giggling and announce they have a gift for me. There is a card and an exquisitely wrapped something.

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It is all hand made with stick on stars and little drawings. The Japanese are so playful.

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It is a sake bowl that the ladies have drawn on with felt markers!

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Little hearts,  a pagoda and a pretty mountain.

Anyway I get to where I am going. It is 08:00 on Thursday morning.

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View from Hotel

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I eat

I walk back to the hotel.

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It is still Thursday!

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Cleaver

Phrasal Verbs in English have long been a fascination. Cleave to means – “to stay very close to someone, or to stay close together.” However the verb cleave means – “split or sever (something), especially along a natural line or grain.”  What do you make of that?

To change the subject somewhat, I would like to let you know that my most recent delivery of lamb has a lot of side pieces. These are slabs of ribcage that lead up to the much to be desired lamb chops. They need butchering. Each dainty lamb chop has to be er chopped off the continent. I have struggled with this and have often yearned for a cleaver.

As you know, the Bride in Kill Bill travels to Okinawa to obtain the ultimate sword.

“A month after the sword has been crafted, Hanzo and the bald man hold a ceremony in which the Bride receives her brand new Hattori Hanzo Sword. He states that he has broken his blood oath since the Bride’s target is Bill. The Bride’s sword is the apex of his career and the perfection of the sword.”

Well, I go to Tabata and purchase a very cool cleaver made by Masahiro sensei.

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Karate Kid

This a real cleaver and I cleave to it.

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Japanese knifes and cleavers are the best. Why is that?

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What joy to chop lamb chops.

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All Around My Hat

I get one of the tantalizing, “We tried to deliver something extremely wonderful to you but you were not at home” messages in my mail box. I immediately phone the English speaking service and drone, ” Please be so kind as to bring my wonderful thing to my house soon after 7:00 oneigaishimasu.”

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At 7:06 my package is delivered by smiling postman who gives impression of enjoying his job. Click on the photo and check out the escutcheons that lie above the MUSTO logo. These means that the Queen of England has worn this hat

 

God bless my brother Ian, who rightly  has concerns for my health as I tend to get over-excited and rush out on my boat with no hat. He has sent me the Queen’s hat from England. This is such a great gift as I cannot buy a hat in Okinawa that fits my huge head that has been swollen by vainglory. Due to England’s history, many there have swollen heads and thus is the ideal place to find a sailing hat for the likes of me.

 

After hat delivery I go watch the sunset.

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Same old stuff

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No wind

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Thanks Ian. It fits! Even the name is Japanese.

This hat will probably save my life. Yay!

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The Withered Ear

My ears have always got me into trouble, mainly because of their exaggerated size. They are Dumbo-ish

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“Here is your husband, like a mildewed ear.” Hamlet knew how to disrespect people.

Like Dumbo, my ears are a liability in high winds. Worse still is that underwater they act as sluices, directing every sort of plankton, effluvia, starfish, manta rays, plastic bottles and that sort of sea stuff, into my external auditory channel. You know how it is.

This in turn causes an infection, which is hardly surprising. The infection causes swelling, pain, stiffness of jaw, giddiness, fever, rectal rashes, loss of appetite, nausea, weight loss, night sweats, vomiting and especially chronic fatigue.

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Mildewed ear

Off I go to the Ear,Nose and Throat guy in Ishikawa. We are old friends due to previous ear infections and the cursed tinnitus.

Japanese health care is outstanding in quality, value for money and that sort of stuff but it is very linked to fairness. I do not think there are private clinics in Japan but what do I know? The result is that a mighty samurai goes to the clinic and waits his turn like everyone else. I wait for 90 mins before being seen by the Sensai. However I am now a hardened Japanese and so take a bunch of work stuff to the doctors. This in fact, gives me a quiet time to read things and desperately try to understand what is going on like professionally.

Just as I reach the end of my documents, a discreet nurse murmurs, “Go jyu san.” in my shell-like or withered ear. It is my number and I proceed to the bower of the ear sensai.

He does not muck about. He sucks ear wax out of my ears. I mean with a suction device not kinda himself. He says ” No swimming, take antibiotics and ear drops!”

“Hai!!” reply I.

Conveniently placed next door, is a pharmacist. He winks at me and says, ” Etto, same as 2 years ago Neil sensei.” He seems to imply  a sexually transmitted disease.

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Ear drops and antibiotics. That should do the trick.

I hate earache.

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Paella

So it had never really dawned on me before but here in Okinawa I can get nearly all the ingredients to make a very amazing Paella. Paella and Okinawan food just seemed light years apart and there is certainly nothing similar in the Okinawan food catalogue.

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Ingredients

So, I get a big lump of fatty pork, two filets of fresh tuna, some clams, some prawns, some sausages that do a reasonable impersonation of chorizo. My big worry was the rice. Would Japanese sticky rice work as a replacement for Barcelona style round rice?

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Pork and sausage and super cool Orion to assist the creative process.

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Onions, garlic, olive oil.

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Now with tuna and fish stock

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I add the rice.

I have washed the rice most assiduously to remove excess stickiness. I then go for an evening sail, leaving the rice to absorb on a very low heat.

When I get back, I add the prawns and clams and some green peppers.

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Oichi!

I am very pleased with the outcome, especially with the texture of the rice.  Of course I made far too much but how can you cook paella for one? I will eat it for the rest of the week.

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Lazy Sunday Afternoon.

It is Sunday. Okinawa is at its best being sunny, hot and colored. It take the boat out. There is not a lot of wind but there is enough to power the Scaffie over the reef and into the the deep blue sea.

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Thank you Scaffie.

I sail way out and sail back in again, like the grand old Duke of York.  On the the way home, I spy Alisa and Harry. They are liberating a buoy as what tells you where the reef starts. Its rope had snagged on some coral, which had dragged it under water.

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Thanks.

We then all clamber into the Scaffie and go for another voyage. After a while the sun burn is too awful and we go back to shore. Wonderful afternoon.

I cook Paella and the head out again to watch the sunset.

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Never get tired of this.

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Nor this. It is 7:30 and still 30 degrees.

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CLAUDIUS How is it that the clouds still hang on you?

HAMLET Not so, my lord. I am too much i’ the sun.

Summer in Okinawa.

 

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Rain, Rain Go to Spain

“Rain, rain go to Spain don’t come back till washing day.” Chanting this is one of my earliest memories. This was probably induced by living on the Wets coast of Scotland where it rains every day and it is thus impossible to dry washing. My Mother must have taught me.

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We always had one of these in the kitchen

I now realize that I got the lyrics wrong. Who would ask the rain not to come back, “till washing day?” You do not want rain on washing day.  It must surely be, “don’t come back on washing day.”   All these years of error.

Anyway this is a long preamble to the fact that Japanese washing machines only do cold washes.

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My washing machine – only one cold water pipe. Lots of settings but none related to temperature.

I suppose this a good thing but sometimes when I have very besmirched jeans or the collars of my shirts are ringed with grime, I yearn to do a nice hot wash. I ask my Japanese friends what I should do. “Etto, just boil your jeans on the stove if you must and then for your shirts, just spend a couple of minutes washing the collar grime before you put them into the machine.” I suppose this makes sense.

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The corridor to my bedroom is the best drying place. There  is a big window into the courtyard through which the sun streams.

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