The Quiet Ripple Defines The Pond

So, not much to say in this little text other than this has been a glorious weekend. I have spent it outside. Just wandering around but above all gently nurturing the Scaffie back to top condition. This will be a long job as she has had a hard season. Okinawa for all her beauty, is a stern mistress. She exerts a hard toll on all things material. Spiritual stuff, neither rusts nor corrupts here but everything else does.

Spot the crack. You have to click on all these photos to really understand.

The main focus of the refit is the thwart. This slab of oak holds the mast in place and through it run and cleat the halyards. You will remember that it disappeared over the side some time in the summer.

https://quietripple.wordpress.com/2015/08/19/golly/

This event left the thwart with a significant crack across it. I must fashion a new thwart.

Ben’s Shisa watch my every action

It detach the thwart from the Scaffie and disassemble

Thwartless

I go to the wood store. This is the best place. It is full of exotic hardwoods and the boss man and I have had several interesting conversations. I mime, “Please  cut a replacement thwart for the Scaffie from a plank of amazing hardwood.” He gets it instantly. He then lists the different woods he can make it from.  I cry “Oak!” He cries,”Oak! So des, Oak arimas!”  We cry on each others’ shoulders. I cannot wait to see what he comes up with.

It smells wonderful

The weather is perfect. The skies are huge.

Early morning from the deck

Night falls

From the roof terrace

I walk up and down the beach.

My house is the white one.

End of November

I spend a long time watching a pair of Ospreys fish in the bay.

Getting ready for the wild plunge onto insouciant fish

I then blunder around looking for birds.

Blue Rock Thrush

Grey Faced Buzzard as it gets dark

White Wagtail

Ultra rare Eastern Yellow Wagtail. Only comes here from Siberia on package holidays.

Yay!

Before Ben leaves we take the Scaffie out of the water for her winter refit. She needs lots of Teak Oil, sanding, varnishing, scrubbing and general love. Don’t we all.

We sail the Scaffie to the best harbor in the world, Shioya, where the the trailer awaits.  I have never been able to back the trailer down the slipway accurately. It jack-knives, it goes the wrong way and I end up pushing the trailer by hand thereby herniating my gut.  Ben takes control and gives a master class in backing up a trailer. We winch the Scaffie onto the trailer consummately.  We then take the boat home and again Ben backs her into the winter position without the slightest problem. I am in awe. How does he do it ?

What a masterly performance!

So, the Scaffie awaits months of tender care.

“I’m afraid we shall waste an awful lot of time.” “Don’t worry,” answered Snufkin, “we shall have wonderful dreams, and when we wake up it’ll be spring.

You may remember that I spent a lot of time working out how to winch the Scaffie into Dead Man’s Gulch. Check out: https://quietripple.wordpress.com/2015/04/11/dior/

and

https://quietripple.wordpress.com/2015/05/10/dont-it-always-seem-to-go/

However, now the fishermen allow me to use their slipway, as I am clearly mad, the need to winch the boat up the beach has evaporated.

However my brain has been squirming like a toad on the subject. The wheels on the trailer are too small. Yesterday, with a little help from my friends, I install new wheels, which, if I ever lose fisherman favor, will allow me to winch the Scaffie out of trouble like nae borra.

Previous decadent wheel situation

I like to keep my wheels on the ground.

Little Blue Boat on the trailer.

I feel a little bit over-prepared. I don’t generally like people who prepare for possible future difficulty.

So the car goes in for its road fitness test. You will remember that this takes place every two years in Japan. The test is called the Shaken after Welsh 80’s pop star Shakin Stevens.

Rusty Chassis was one of his greatest hits.

Ben leaves – boo hoo, he is a good companion.

Bye Ben, thanks for looking after me

Grey Heron in the slime bath near the airport.

I drive to the shop, where the main man is Yamada san, to see what pain I will have to suffer Shaken style. Ouch! Yamada san does an excellent onomatopoeic interpretation of rust eating its way through the chassis of my faithful pig liver colored March. It goes, “Crunchy,crunchy,crunchy,chew,chew,choo.”

I am surprised the engine has not fallen out

Living by the sea is good for the soul but bad for cars. The wind, salt, humidity, heat, crabs, do damage to metal.

So my car is over, long live the car!

Yamada san with Honda 750

Yamada san says, ” Why not buy this Honda Fit, which is fit and like fits you.” What a good idea.

I scurry off to a ATM. In Japan I can pull $5,000 from an ATM day after day, within limits.

Cash rules!

I now have a Honda Fit. I am am bound to lose weight.

Oh no ! Ben is about to leave. I take a day off and we go diving. First we go to Sunabe and generally burble about amidst the amazing soft corals as what is found there

That’s my boy

Ben

We then go for an evening dive straight out from my house. We swim out and everything is OK.  We watch amazing groups of Bat Fish who seem to be hiding. We become aware that  there is a very strong current zooming around. Beautiful clown fish but it is late, the sun is going down and we have to get back to shore. Normally this kind of thing does not bother me. I have total confidence in my physical ability. But, this time it is different. We set off for shore against a very strong current. I do what I can, but for the first time in my life I question my physical ability to get out of the situation I have engineered. Am I strong enough to get back to the shore?

I swim on my front, I swim on my back, I swim on my side, but nothing seems to work as the current pushes against me. I make no progress. I feel inklings of panic. Thank God that Ben is with me. He stays about 1 metre away from me all the way into the shore. I feel weak. Finally, after 30 mins of desperate  swimming from me, I reach a depth where I can walk. Ben is like a sea lion, he is aware that I am not doing too well and swims around me making sure that I am OK. Thanks very much Ben.

Oh no! I am I old?

Check the video:

So in honor of Jonah Lomu, Ben and I order a whole lot of food from the amazing: http://baticrom.com/index.php?route=product/category&path=20

This is Aladdin’s Cave. You can get what you want.  We want meat.

Japanese food is wild but from time to time, I want to roast, a chicken, a duck, a shoulder or leg of lamb. When I say from time to time I really mean all the time.

We get our quantities very badly wrong.

Dead meat

At 7:30 on a Wednesday night, a hyper polite delivery guy like delivers, 29 kilos of lamb, 3 chickens, a duck and lots of other stuff.   We have gone too far. There is neither tomb nor continent  enough to hide the slain.

Meat on the ledge

We light the BBQ.

I tried hard for many years to be a lawyer but happiness kept breaking through.

Hmmm, I now need to find a big freezer.

Every nook and cranny of my fridge is crammed with defrosting lamb, chickens  and a duck. What to do? I mean Ben leaves on Friday.

Ben has no mastery over the Sun. In fact I would suggest that the Sun has mastery over Ben. The last time he was here he went diving on the first day and this happened.

Factor 0

This time around he has been sitting in the boat exposing his  knees. This happened- warning – this video is gross.

Foul bottom. Well, yes, I know, but I am actually I am talking about the Scaffie. She has been in the sea since April and her bottom has attracted a lot of attention.  It is befouled with weed, slime, parasites, limpets, and stuff.

Ben and I try to capsize her to get at her bottom. This is reassuringly difficult to do. We manage to fill her with water and Ben sits in her but she will not sink. Yay Scaffie!

Nice to know when one worries about being swamped on the high seas.

We finally manage to overturn her and the full disgrace of her bottom is revealed.

Scrub

It is warm and cloudy. The sea is very calm. Ben and I spend a delightful couple of hours scrubbing  the Scaffie’s bottom.

November

We use a scraper, wire wool, sponges, face cream etc.

Boat therapy

We take the opportunity to fill various holes, divots, scrapes that she has accumulated in the high season.

Lo and behold!

I don’t know, but I think I would rather clean a boat’s bottom with one of my sons, on a warm day in November than any other activity that the world has to offer.

“No sun—no moon!
No morn—no noon—
No dawn—
No sky—no earthly view—
No distance looking blue—
No road—no street—no “t’other side the way”—
No end to any Row—
No indications where the Crescents go—
No top to any steeple—
No recognitions of familiar people—
No courtesies for showing ’em—
No knowing ’em!
No traveling at all—no locomotion,
No inkling of the way—no notion—
“No go”—by land or ocean—
No mail—no post—
No news from any foreign coast—
No park—no ring—no afternoon gentility—
No company—no nobility—
No warmth, no cheerfulness, no healthful ease,
No comfortable feel in any member—
No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees,
No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds,
November!”

Well actually in Okinawa November is the best month of the year. That’s what I think anyroadupwards. The weather has been glorious but without the oppressive heat of high summer. Also the humidity is like not. One of the wonderful things about November is the flowers.

Let’s Boogey

What the hell is that?

Grunt

Smells good

A lot of birdies also show up in November.

Golden Plover

This one has lost a leg

Kentish Plover does yoga

In Okinawa you cannot buy gasoline in a plastic container. You have to have an expensive metal tank. This used to annoy me but what can you do?  As this narrative continues the logic for this will be revealed.

The Scaffie has been abandoned in Seisyun san’s dock in Zamami. The year wears on. The weather can only get worse. I have an exceptionally busy week but Saturday promises to be a good day to get the Scaffie back to the happy mooring in front of my house.  This is problematic as it means getting to Zamami on Friday evening to allow for the early start on Saturday that needs must light on getting back to the happy mooring in front of my house before it gets dark.  There are no boats to Zamami that remotely fit my schedule.

This is what we do. I sprint from last meeting on Friday into a cab that takes Ben and me to Tomari harbor from whence a ferry goes to Tokashiki, an island adjacent to Zamami. We catch the ferry with minutes to spare but I leave my IPhone and house keys in the cab amid the  general fluster.

We thunder across to the island on the most beautiful evening. Once in Tokashiki, we take a bus across the island to another little town on the west coast, Aharen. There Seisyun san is waiting in his fishing boat and takes us over to Zamami as the sun sets. Wonderful trip. Thanks Naoko.

The last leg to Zamami

I was in a suit and meeting only a couple of hours ago!

We stay with a wonderful lady who is the quintessence of wonderfulness.

Tatami mats and futons

We then go to Seisyun san’s house for an unforgettable evening. There are two young women working at the guest house, Emi and Sakura, who both speak good English and are the best fun.  We sit around the kitchen table, which is covered in fish hooks, spanners, beer cans and the like. We drink beer until I present Seisyun san with a bottle of Islay Mist, which incidentally I can buy in my local corner shop for about $20. The girls produce a series of dishes that they place amid the hooks and spanners. Wonderful food. We drink Islay Mist and swear everlasting friendship. We slash our wrists and mix our blood. I promise that Seisyun san can moor his boat in my bedroom. He swears that my mother, brothers, sister and ancestors can use his berth whenever they want. Whisky is amazing stuff.

Next morning we are in the Scaffie at 6:30, just as it gets light. The engine starts! We motor out into the November sunrise.

In russet mantle clad.

So we start the epic voyage home. Coming out from the Keramas the sea is very agitated and the Scaffie demonstrates all her viking heritage. I cannot see how she would ever be in trouble at, like, sea unless a huge wave curls over very high and unloads into the boat.

Leaving Port Askaig

Yay! Sun, wind, blue

So off we go on a reach home to Zampa. The wind is coming in from the North East and we hurtle of on a very productive beam reach.

See what I mean?

Time when sailing is strange. In the Scaffie, you can’t really do very much or move around very much due to her diminutiveness. You sit there with the sun blasting against one side of your face dreamily watching a far beacon draw closer.  Suddenly six hours have passed.

Our only technology

We become aware that there is a strong smell of gasoline and indeed everything is coated with a layer of 2 stroke mix. Lo, the plastic gas tank has split due to too much exposure to sun and wind and has emptied most of its contents into the boat.

Go metal

Eventually we draw level with Cape Zanpa. There is a big hotel on the cape, which we first see as a white blob. It then focuses into a rectangle and then the shape of a hotel. Soon we can see windows and balconies. Now we can read the sign. Unfortunately we are 5 miles out at sea and we will will have to beat into the wind, which is coming directly off the land, for hours to reach home.

We install mighty Tophatsu and after many prayers try to start her up. She goes!

We motor in and tie up at 3:00, eight and a half hours after our departure. This period of time in wild elements, in blazing sun, in an open boat, takes its toll.

Check the video of the early part of the voyage:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HexGJkI2t3Y

A huge moth is there to welcome us.

This 3 or 4 ins across

Next day I am up early to do this.

http://www.oist.jp/news-center/news/2015/11/10/more-5000-people-oist-open-campus

We have to get back to Okinawa. The holiday is over. All that lies between us and Okinawa is 40 miles of ocean, which incidentally seems to be in an extremely bad mood. The wind also is pissed off and so blows against us.

We are in the boat at 6:30 and I am confident that, after a night of unflooding, that the mighty Tophatsu will start. Not so. Setting off into the wild East China Sea with no engine is like foolhardy. I have to be at work. I am a long way from work. It is 7:00 in the morning in a tiny, remote harbor in the East China Sea.

We go to the shop from which I bought an expensive-bottle -of -whisky- gift yesterday. I mime an outboard not starting and moan, ” Mechanicu arimaska?” He is on the phone and after two shakes of a lamb’s tail, a truck arrive containing Captain Seisyun and Emi. Seisyun sensei will figure  in the continuation of this narrative.  He first tells us to move the Scaffie to his personal dock. Let it be said that he is a man of the sea. He understands and once safely tied up, tries to start the engine.

Captain Seisyun a ses ouevres

No start. OK, leave Scaffie in Zamami, take ultra hi speed ferry back to Okinawa, cab back to house, go to work.

I would employ Emi.

However before the ferry leaves we have some time. We repair to Seisyun sensei’s house and drink coffee. He also runs a kind of low key guest house. If you want the real thing in Zamami, go here:

http://www.z-nansei.com/

They drive us down to the harbor. By this time we are family. When things go wrong you always have much more fun. The car, boat, plane, plan , which works leads to isolation and no fun. You have to push it.

Emi san and Sakura san take us to the boat. Are n’t they beautiful?

Scaffie stays in Zamami. Will I ever see her again?

Safe in Seisyun san’s berth.
Will I ever see her again?

So we have to flee from the Keramas. The wind is against. The sea is furious. Discretion is the better part of valor.   Check this video:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BXeMME_0hpE

Big week at work coming up.