The Quiet Ripple Defines The Pond

Actually, I do not mind paying tax er that much. I do pay a lot as I have to contribute to the both Japanese and U.S. coffers. However I absolutely hate getting together all the documentation that is needed to file taxes in both countries. Now of course is the season of taxes, calling it Spring is wrong, it should be called Tax, as in Winter, Tax, Summer, Autumn. Anyway, like a visit to the Dentist, it will eventually fade into the past.

Let’s look at a butterfly instead of finding tax documents.

The university thunders on at a great rate.

Peter asks Abe for lots of money.

Let’s look at butterflies instead.

I get up in the morning, slaving for bread, sir and notice that someone has cut down the undergrowth that has been getting closer and closer to my front door.

Not good for butterflies.

The Road to the Isles. 

We start the next phase of expansion. 

https://www.oist.jp/news-center/news/2017/4/14/groundbreaking-ceremony-lab-4

Does he care?

Brilliant Emerald bug scratches its ear. She is worried about science funding.

Anyway, the Scaffie is ready. Tomorrow I launch.

North Korea bound.

I have lots of socks. Socks are cheap in the U.S.  I cannot resist buying them. The anxiety comes when, post washing machine, I have to pair them off. I only buy black socks. I do not know why. I blame my parents.

When did you last see you Father

Anyway, the last lot that I bought have a thin yellow line across the toe.

Chrome yellow

This line allows me to identify partner socks. I feel great shame going to work with mismatched socks so this simple line of yellow has done a great deal for my general wellbeing.

So, it is April in Okinawa. So much is happening .

See what I mean

This Oriental Turtle Dove is cooing hence distended neck

Iron hard trees suddenly spurt flower

No leaves or buds but straight into crazy flower stage

Can you do this?

Terrible photo of amazing Azalea display

Picture of a cow I painted in California

This a flowering stem of one of my Plumeria. Great joy.

Contentment is wealth

New rode

I like your yellow striped socks

Never enough varnish

Stuff from beach.

The sap is rising.

I realize that I have an entirely free Tuesday afternoon and because of my vast professional experience I immediately take it off.

I want to take my sail to a local sailmaker to find out if he can make me a new one. My sail has suffered much from intense UV exposure and I am worried that it will rip. As I unlace the sail from the yard or gaff, which is the length of wood at the top of the sail, I notice that the yard is strangely bent.

Spot the Gaff (Yard)

I try to persuade it into a straightish posture whereupon it breaks in two pieces.

I think I must have stood on it at some point.

Oh dear, I now have a completely different and unexpected problem. I have to manufacture a new yard. No worries, I take the truckette down to the woodyard of eternal delight that I have recently written about. My brother is moving massive tree trunks around on a forklift but comes to help. I show him the broken yard and he gets it. We have a Japanese conversation. “Do you want mahogany?”  “Hmm, says I in mime, I think mahogany might be too heavy.” ” Yeah, you are probably right. Let’s try cedar.”  “Cool”  I mime by clasping my arms to my sides and shivering.

4 metres of 4×4 cedar.  4 is my lucky number.

Has Earth anything to show more fair?

When I get home I look carefully at the busted yard and realize that I can probably make a fairly convincing repair. Like a fractured leg the two end of the bones slot back together fairly well. If I can immobilize the leg and strap it up it might grow back together.

Wood glue

I then apply a pretty good round lashing.

Thank you Mr Pritchard

I then drench the lashing in yacht varnish – not sure why.

I then cover the whole fracture site in a black leather plaster.

I am quite hopeful that this will do the job as I think there is rarely great strain on the yard. That said, I am determined to make a new one just in case. I mean I have a beautiful 4x4x4 length of Okinawan cedar to molest. Who could resist?

I unleash my my beloved Japanese plane.

Nautical terminology is abstruse. Every part of the boat has a name and it is an entire education to know them all. The Scaffie has two bits of wood sticking out at the stern between which the traveller is rigged. When I bought the Scaffie these were missing and so I made some.

Short and thick

So, you can see them in this classic photo of the Scaffie in Ie Jima. I  fret that these bits of wood whose correct nautical name I do not know, are too short. The result is that the clew of the sail, see what I mean about nautical vocabulary,  is pulled down low. I believe the boat will sail better with the clew higher. New project.

I go to my much beloved wood yard.

Most of Okinawa is covered with forest.

I know these people as a result of a series of boat related wood needs. Being Okinawan, they are friendly, helpful and fun.

Aladdin’s cave

The guy cuts me two billets of what he calls mahogany but I think it is some much more exotic Okinawan hardwood. He charges me 100 yen, which is 80 cents American.

Here we go

I spend the weekend sanding, applying wood treatment stuff and gently painting on varnish to all the woodwork on the boat. I also spend delightful time  cutting and rasping the bits of wood, whose correct nautical name I do not know, so that they fit perfectly.

Pretty boat

The weather is sunny and windy. A remarkable spectrum of people stop and chat. Most of them speak Japanese  but it does not seem to matter as there is a common understanding that getting a boat ready for a summer of taming the wild and wistful ocean is a good thing.

High traveller

I can’t wait to find out how this will change the performance of the Scaffie. Probably not much but you never know.

Do not feel obliged to read this. It is really an archival document related to the the great rudder project.

I spend all day sanding and applying wood treatment stuff to the Scaffie. This is a very social occupation as people passing by stop for a chat and folks as what I know, poop their horn and shout abuse as they drive by.

I sand like crazy and treat the woodwork with therapeutic treatment stuff. This year I have chosen a darker shade.

The weather is very pleasant and I have a wonderful time.

The bottom pintle is placed

She is mounted

Hooray!

So, Greta moves on. She has been with us as a Science Writing Fellow for the last 6 months during which time she has sprinkled happiness and joy, like fairy dust, on us all.

Great is on the extreme right.

She has gone over the Okinawan border to spread her conquests further. In fact she got the plum job as Communications person at the zinging new, incredibly cool, Crick Institute in London: https://www.crick.ac.uk/

Robert Burns wrote a poem about her in 1792, which shows what an amazing poet he was.

O saw ye bonie Greta,
As she gaed o’er the Border?
She’s gane, like Alexander,
To spread her conquests farther.

To see her is to love her,
And love but her for ever;
For Nature made her what she is,
And never made anither!

Thou art a queen, fair Greta,
Thy subjects, we before thee;
Thou art divine, fair Greta,
The hearts o’ men adore thee.

The deil he could na scaith thee,
Or aught that wad belang thee;
He’d look into thy bonie face,
And say-“I canna wrang thee!”

The Powers aboon will tent thee,
Misfortune sha’na steer thee;
Thou’rt like themselves sae lovely,
That ill they’ll ne’er let near thee.

Return again, fair Greta,
Return to Okinawa!
That we may brag we hae a lass
There’s nane again sae bonie.

Anyway we had a greta party.

Tomomi with wonderful Iranian woman, whose name I have forgotten, slice it.

Yoko makes Takoyaki

Beautiful women

We eat incredibly well and throb to the wins -every -time rhythm of Strip the Willow and Screaming Pyramids

Good times.

Nearly there

Yay!

Thanks Greta.

I start this long weekend with a visit to the Toya fish market, which is just down the road.

This Tuna is huge. Trust me.

Totally. amazingly, fresh octopi. I like this stuff.

I buy big Octopus in anticipation of future  social gatherings.

So, an entanglement of rope has arrived on my beach. I am much affronted.

How?

There are at least 10 different strains of rope in the entanglement, ranging from little rope to big, big, mooring for steamer, rope. My question is, how did they all come together in the wild and wistful ocean?  Can rope communicate?  Dolphins and whales can,so perhaps rope that is lost on the briny deep,can send out messages to attract other rope. A bit like a flotsam rope dating service.

Likes gardening and outdoor activities.

Anyway, I have to cut it up into chunks and wheel barrow it back to the house. Garbage collection around here accepts; burnable, glass, cans, PET plastic bottles and jetsam. I like this. Each has a separate bag. Wrong bag = no pick up.

Isn’t it a joy to have a big slab of plywood? Some will remember the breaking of my rowing thwart in the worst of times. https://quietripple.wordpress.com/2016/10/06/but-in-battalions/

Well, today I cut a new thwart from my slab.

The truck bed is such a good work surface.

I love this stuff.

I go to Hiroshima on Monday afternoon and come back on Tuesday afternoon.

10 minutes

This is a boarding confirmation. If you can see the small print you will see, “Please be at the gate 10 mins before departure.”  I am still amazed how the Japanese can board a hundred or so people onto a plane in 10 minutes,  but they do. One thing is that they are very responsible about carry-on bags. No one tries to bring on big bags – they check them in the knowledge that they will pick them up on the carrousel very soon after arrival. Then there is the greater happiness is more important than the individual happiness syndrome that is so prevalent in Japan. Anyway I love and respect the way Japanese get on planes.

My room in Hiroshima. Notice there is no bed.

A choice of beds

In the bathroom. I think this is shaving soap.

I have to rush back to Okinawa and having done my thing I set off on a great voyage to Fukuoka airport. Hiroshima University drive me to Higashi Hiroshima station where I get on a Shinkasen to Hiroshima  main station. As I wait for my train to arrive, Shinkasen are ripping through the station at amazing speed. It is very exciting.

I take my train to Hiroshima and then catch another Shinkasen to Hakata, which is the main station that serves Fukuoka Airport. This is not the time for paranoia. I do not know where I am, I only have a name as to where I am going, I have no geographical idea of where it is. If I make any mistake the whole trip is blown and I have major complications.

Which train should I take?

My Shinkasen arrives as another whams through the station at a trillion kpm

Anyway I make it to Hakata and emerge into an, er, bustling Japanese transport hub. There are about a million people, all blessed with an understanding of where they are going. I do not. I have to get a subway to the airport and let me tell you friends this was not easy, there is no English  signage and no one that I stoppeth in Ancient Mariner style spoke English. But hey I am in Japan and I should speak Japanese. The little I have, was sufficient to guide me to the right platform. I made it to the airport and flew back to Okinawa.

I actually like the fact that banal travel assumes the mantle of Burton and Speke.

Those of you who are bored with rudder stuff, please switch channels.

Meth

Mixing the epoxy is highly technical. It is a 100:1 mix, which means 100 parts epoxy to 1 part hardener. Great precision is needed to get the mix right.

Anyway, it is the most beautiful day as I mix the magic lotion and smear it over the rudder with a sashimi tray, which does the job very well.

Wet epoxy but not for long.

While the epoxy cures, I go to find the Black headed Munia again.

They are happily devastating a field of barley

Scaly breasted Munia discuss mischief

Tatler takes a bath

Okinawa

I go home for the best lunch I have ever had.

Insalata di Pulpo.

Spring is here and suddenly there are butterflies everywhere.

I am very happy

Me too.

Throughout the afternoon I gently work on the mast. I smell the sea. I smell the wind. Sailing season is coming in.

First major sanding and coating with good stuff.

I can sometimes do very irrational things.

My learned brother Ian pointed out that just varnishing my new rudder will not cut it. Sea water will inevitably sneak in and the rudder will delaminate. He advises covering the the whole thing in epoxy.

I have had several experiences of late of trying to find specific articles in Japan and failing after much wasted effort. The stuff is there, it is just a case of navigating the linguistic maze to locate it. Something as specific as marine epoxy fills me with foreboding.

My tremendous luck, a leitmotif of my life so far, steps in again. Colleague Harry has lots of it as he has been building a surfboard and he er gives me some. This made me unreasonably happy and I watched every second tick by on Friday afternoon so I could get home for a weekend of unabated epoxy joy.

Thanks Harry!

My rudder has been lying in a nice sheltered spot all week but I decide it would look much nicer on the flat bed of my truck. I move it. It does look very nice and I thrill with anticipation of tomorrow’s careful mixing and application of epoxy.

Of course it pours all night. I am asleep but on waking in the grey dawn I rush out to find my rudder drenched and having absorbed more drink than is good for her. I can now not apply acrylic until the wood has dried out. Too much romance, not enough common sense, another leitmotif.

Drying on the ironing board.

I cast around to think of things that will cheer me up. Octopus, of course!

I go down to the Chelsea Octopus Store to get my prescription filled.

A mess of octopi.

There is no guarantee that any have been caught and I frequently trail home empty handed. Today, clearly to compensate for my earlier disappointment, there is a crateful.

I choose a beauty, which was clearly caught minutes or even seconds ago. I love Okinawa.

Freshly pulled from the deep. You will of course know that the Octopus genome was first decoded at OIST.

The guy, who is my brother, asks if I would like him to clean it. This is new, normally I do it at home. I say, “Onegaishimasu.”  It is very interesting to watch. He gives it a very thorough scrub, extracts the beak, cuts off bits that offend him and then gets handfuls of rough salt and gives the octopus a real going over with said salt.  I anticipate that this removes the mucus that normally covers the octopus and turns a slightly slimy purple on cooking. The whole process takes about 10 minutes. I am astounded how diligent and methodical he is. There is no rush, no atmosphere of I want to get this finished as soon as possible, just methodical attention to production of a quality product. We worship the octopus. While I on my knees, I await the best fast food in the world, 2 fish and 2 squid tempura that are delivered piping hot in a paper bag. I am feeling much better.

On the way home I take a little birdwatching diversion around Nagahama.

Poor photo but rare bird around here. Eastern Great Tit. Much less yellow than its European relative.

Grey Tailed Tatlers. Click on these photos to absorb the beauty.

This is truly meaningful. A mixed flock of Black headed and Scaly breasted Munia. First time I have seen Black headed version.

Japanese White Eye.

Blue Rock Thrush. Very common around these parts but a beautiful bird whatever.

I return home elated.

Swings and roundabouts.

Yay!

When you dip the tentacles into boiling water, they go all curly and thus more enticing to eat.