The Quiet Ripple Defines The Pond

So I haul my sorry ass up to Kyoto after a week of Board of Governors meetings and stuff. I go to the STS Forum. Instead of conference hotel, for the like of which I have developed a very strong antipathy, Naoko books an Airbnb apartment a couple of stops down the subway from the conference center. What a good decision, thanks Naoko. It is in the middle of a straightforward Kyoto residential area and so calm. I am not obliged to speak to people. I find anonymity very alluring.

Good ol’ Abe speaks

My apartment, which is great but has no TV so I miss the Blossoms bashing Samoa.

Young ladies on the subway

P

The Prime Minister of France

Incidentally, the Prime Minister of France, whose name escapes me, is the only person throughout the 3 day meeting who does not speak in English.

Just beside my apartment is a river.

Beautiful walks. These are cherry trees. Imagine the Spring.

Everywhere you look, people are getting married

Spot-billed Duck

I like Kyoto.

Drones have revolutionized institutional film making. Check out where I work. There was only one building when I arrived in Jan 2011. Things move fast in Japan.

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

New anchor

As I have mentioned many times over the last five years or nearly, Japan is a delightful place to live. One thing that builds the edifice of wellbeing is the public holidays. We are in the middle of a 5 day bliss-out named Silver Week. Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday are like for enjoyment.

I enjoy – especially today.

I sail the mighty Scaffie up the coast. As usual, this starts as a little excursion to potter around the lagoon some and then come home. However, happiness in high concentration breaks through and I keep going. I race past Cape Maeda and set off for Motobu. The wind is fresh, which the Scaffie likes. She is a strong person and is at her best when there is a little bit of a challenge.

Will you still need me, will you still feed me
When I’m sixty-four?

After an a couple of hours I am  way up the coast. The flying fish are flying, the sun is sunning in a nice slightly ‘Ode to Autumn’ way. It is warm not hot by Okinawan standards, so about 28 degrees, which is is, due to lack of humidity, like perfect.

The wind is coming offshore and the Scaffie revels. However when we get further North the wind dies and we bumble about 5 kilometres off the coast. It is very still, so  I decide that meterogically  the best thing is to go about and head home. Probably the wrong decision as I now think we were just in the wind shadow of big hills on the island and had we continued the wind would have freshened. The importance of local knowledge.

You don’t need a silver fork to eat good food.

All the way home my mind is full of a song by The Knack. Sung in I think 1989, this is the high point of Pop, or so it seemed as the flying fish flew.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g1T71PGd-J0   Is this the best love poem ever?

The Scaffie is the best boat.

Here is a poor video; Happy Birthday Rosy!

https://youtu.be/lpSNF8gHT6Y

I worry about the Blossoms.

Once tied up I go to look at stuff.

Go Scotland!

Feet Scotland !

Whiskered Tern over tarot

Scottish Greenshanks

MacCattle Egret

Osprey

What a great day! I go home and cook.

The boy stood on the burning deck.

I cannot contain my happiness. Japan beats South Africa! I am so proud of my semi adopted homeland.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V37Ko4pvioA

Yay! Smash them you blossoms! Delightful Japanese contradiction.

The kids around here play a lot of touch rugby and obviously love it.

https://quietripple.wordpress.com/2014/08/19/fiddler-on-the-roof/

Who is next? Did you say Scotland? Oh dear.

‘An’ forward, tho’ I canna see,
I guess an’ fear!’

Last night. A touch autumnal.

Well, the wind was not that bad but it blew strong straight onshore for days. This made trying to sail to remote islands er sort of not doable indeed dangerous. The sea outside the reef was big, powerful and heaving, a bit like the Springboks pack; not a good place to be.

We repaired the slightly battered Scaffie.

Beautiful weather but windy

New rudder split pins, new mainsail lacing, leather on the yard where it bashes against the mast, retighten thwart bolts.

Ospreys are back and fly over to see if the boat is OK.

That is not an Osprey in the background but another US military aircraft

Anyway, the upshot is that we do a lot a diving cos underwater there is no wind.

Upstairs

Downstairs

We dive at Sunabe. Above the water, it is concrete blocks but lots of good places to eat and a great store to rent tanks. Below the water, it is a paradise with truly, like awesome variety of soft coral.

Yay Okinawa – so easy to do stuff here

Watch:  https://youtu.be/ARyxkRccrz0

James brings me a  holy mermaid. I mount her on the boat.

Strong ju ju

The big project of   James’ visit is to hie it the 40 miles South West, across the wild and wistful ocean, to the mysterious Kerama Islands. Once there, we will dive with glee, camp, explore and got to the lavatory.

We get up. There is a very strong wind coming directly onshore. Hmm, maybe a bit freaky out on the wild and wistful ocean.  We set off and make our way to the Iron Gate, which is the only way through the reef. The boat is behaving strangely. Big waves are crashing into the reef sending up plumes of purest white spray. I cannot steer. Why ? Because the rudder has come off. Why, how, I dunno? I manage to salvage the rudder before it wanders off but we are in a bad place, drifting towards a very abrasive reef onto which major ocean rollers are crashing. James takes down the sail and mans the oars. He rows us to safety. We limp back to base to reset the rudder.

Heavily laden with adventure stuff

Rudder fixed, we set off again to the Keramas 40 miles away. We batter through the Iron Gate and set a course into the wild and wistful. We hammer against big breaking waves. Are we downhearted? Yes.

James mulls over our options

It becomes very clear, very soon, that there is no way that we can reach the Keramas, given the strength of the wind and the anger of the sea. It is, by the way, a glorious day; blue sea, blue sky, bright sun, strong wind.

After an hour or so, we head home but there is no way through the Iron Gate  as the tide is low, the reef exposed, and incensed ocean is smashing into the latter with  wanton intensity. So,we stay outside the reef and make our way towards Shioya harbor a few kms upwind along the coast. Much tacking but the Scaffie revels in adversity. The entrance to the harbor is marked by a big red and a big green post,  wisely placed in the ocean. We  run between them and find ourselves inside the reef in calmer waters. Phwew. We scoot back across the lagoon as we think we can salvage this non Keramas failure by going diving off the cliffs of Cape Zampa.

James gets ready

Forget it. The waves are too high and we can only head for home. Once again the Scaffie behaves strangely. We look up to see that the mainsail has come away from the yard. Why? Dunno.

Not good

We manage to get back to the mooring. There is no buoy to show where it is. It has detached itself after two years of faithful service. Why? Dunno.

So, we spend 6 hours at sea and never get more than 2 miles from the house.

What is her role in all this?

One wonders if the Mermaid is here to help. Superstition and sailing go together.

So, it rains. This gives us the opportunity to head North to track down the Okinawan Rail, the rarest bird in the world, like around here. The Japanese name is Yanburu Kuina.

Not a Rail but a Common Sandpiper

James in the rain

The slow road North

We check out tombs.

Mourn him thou Sun, great source of light;
Mourn, Empress of the silent night:
And you, ye twinkling starnies bright,
My Matthew mourn;
For through your orbs he’ taen his flight,
Ne’er to return.

We take along hike up to a waterfall in drenching humidity and butterflies.

The Fall

James likes to eat. He is in the right place.

Lunch up North.

So the deal is that the Yanburu Kuina is a very rare bird and skulks around the undergrowth in the hundreds of square miles of the forest of Yanbaru, which is like the totally northern part of the island.

There are only a few hundred in existence.

What chance of seeing one by straying around for a couple of hours? About femtochance.

We plod around when amazingly, a rail pops out and poses. We are too shocked to be able to photograph. We bumble around and see six in total. I mean, er, you know.

The Kuina May

Yay!

James is here!  Hooray!

He takes this on the way back from the aerodrome.

We sail.

Horribly bemuscled

Big Sale! Buy now!

Insects are like here

We dive.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AOuKp7mkUzk

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V0WcBA_MBQ4

I am on vacation.

I finish repairing and scrubbing the Scaffie fairly early and so I go for a ramble to inhale some Okinawan low yo, yo stuff. I drive past a building site. A new viaduct is being constructed to improve traffic flow. Here is how the Okinawans explain it to passers-by.

Onna son, the community in which I live, declares that the bridge will make living here even more ecstatic. Notice playfulness of local government annoucements.

This one says that the new bridge will reduce CO2 and make bluebirds happy. Notice the flowers that the construction workers have laced around the sign.

After that, I visit the river that delineates the frontier between Onna son and Yomitan. Lots of stuff happening.

My friend the Kingfisher. I think there are 4 on the river/stream.

What is this?

It is Obon, look it up. There is a carnival of Eisa dancing, look it up,  on the main street of Yomitan.

In the streets

Where does this come from?

Hello ancestors

The street is crammed with dancers. It is 32 degrees with high humidity.

Learning the tradition

Hibiscus

Ben

After that I tow the Scaffie to Chioya port and set her free. Check out the video:

https://youtu.be/RxGp9rwJ_sw

Yep, the moon is full.

Okinawa.

So, I have had a wonderful project on going for the last couple of weeks. Well since the mast went overboard.  I have to replace the mast thwart in such a manner that it will not blow out again. I love stuff like this as it usually involves buying tools.  I discuss a lot with knowledgeable people, in particular Bob and Norma from Rochdale, who built the boat. They recommend replace the original brass screws with steel bolts. Which sounds stronger to you – brass screw or steel bolt?

To use bolts, I have to cut 5 inch holes in the bulkhead on both sides, under the thwart. This so I can get my hand in to screw the nut and washer onto the bolt and subsequently a spanner to allow tightening.

The best tool in the world

After a lot of mime, I manage to buy the best tool in the world. It cuts round holes in things. I also have to buy a drill and some drill bits. I drill out the old screws as what had broken off. I drill right through into the ballast space, which will allow me to insert strong sounding steel bolts.

I am so excited that I rush home from work to start the job before it gets dark. There has been a typhoon by the way but I have written about those before. Has anyone, ever, written about replacing feeble brass screws with strong steel bolts to hold a wooden mast thwart securely in place, er in Japan?

It is getting dark as I set to work.

Beautiful 5 inch hole. Ballast foam behind.

Of course, great fun though it be drilling huge circular holes in the side of the boat, I will of course have to close them off again to stop the wild and willful ocean from infiltrating. Micheal, in a truly masterful fashion, tracks down  5 inch hatch covers in some online Japanese chandlery and a polite delivery man er delivers them the next day. Thanks Micheal.

Lovely hatch cover rim.

There is a small slice of wooden missing from the thwart. It was untimely ripped when the screw was pulled out during the catastrophe at sea. I carve a replacement and glue it in, holding all together with blue string and a five pound note whilst the glue dries.

Not yet bolted on – just drying.

Hmmm maybe a tree next time.

During the drying intermission, I notice a very large stick insect cleverly disguising itself against the fly-screen. I soon realized why it had chosen such an inappropriate hiding place.

A stick insect outlaw done shot him in the back of the head.

I get up at dawn to bolt  on the now glue dried thwart.

In russet mantle clad

Bolted.

I then give the Scaffie a jolly good scrub.

Before

After, notice cute new hatch covers

So now I will launch the boat and ship the mast and sail around to see if the strong steel bolts work. What a great project. What can I cut circular holes in now?