London- Amsterdam-Taipei- Naha.

Home again.

Yay!!

Fish

Okinawa

Whee!

Ie Jima

What can I say?

Grunt

Au clair de la lune.

Rosy and I go to see Mummy. We drive through film-set English villages with wooded tudor houses, ancient coaching inns, saxon churches where Edward Gibbon is buried. The Giant Hog Weed  surges from every hedgerow.

One of the Saxon churches where Gibbon is buried.

Told you so

Mummy at 92 is in good form, although I am not sure she really knew who I was. Her manners, impeccable as always, would of course not allow her to display any doubt and she welcomed me most graciously.

The background music in the sitting room of the home was a medley of sing along numbers. Mummy has always been a great singer and we went through, Ye Banks and Braes of Bonnie Doon, Flower of Scotland, These are my Mountains.   Mummy, Rosy  and I lead the singing and the other old ladies joined. After Scotland, we moved to Jamaica and sang, Yellow Bird, Island in the Sun and I Left a Little Girl in Kingston Town. Best fun. I played Amazing Grace on my IPhone as Mummy sang.

Sad to say, I’m on my way,
Won’t be back for many a day.

Lots of love, Mummy.

Roast beef of old England with roast potatoes, buttered cabbage,creamed horseradish, gravy and fine wine.

Thanks Muladys!

Auntie Margie has gone to it. May flights of angels sing her to her rest.

My sister Rosy organized the ceremony with great delicacy and skill such that Margie was remembered with respect and love but without undue  maudlin.

Cat themed coffin

Alan spoke the eulogy and others read and stuff. We sang “All Things Bright and Beautiful” and “Jerusalem.”

A gaggle of Calders

We than went back to Springbank to guzzle Egg Mayonnaise, Cheeses and Onion and Smoked Salmon Sandwiches.

Konichewa!

Later we ate Fish and Chips.

Has earth anything to show more fair?

Frenzy

England is where I am at. Barry and Rosy have the most amazing house and garden. It is beautiful. So far from Okinawa.

That ‘s the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!
And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children’s dower
—Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!

Fulcrum

The best garden

Trees and lawns

Pink

Park

Prince Andrew

Rhubarb

Gate

There is so much more. Congratulations to Rosy and Barry for creating such beauty.

So the storm is over. All very satisfactory as I did not abandon my boat and leave her to be destroyed and abused by the wind and waves.  However now comes the challenge of getting her back in the water as there are so many adventures that I want to  taste, touch, feel, smell, eat, drink, rub up against and massage into my hair. OK I have no hair but you take my drift. I am determined to sail back to the Keramas and also to Tern Island.

Today? er no, the island is in a state of recovery from a  post Typhoon hangover and all is quiet and generally blurry. Also I will be traveling and so the Scaffie will have to remain onshore for a couple of weeks.

So, if I cannot be fighting the tiller then I embark on my secondary love – voyeurism. I love to look at things, from afar and also from very near to. This is what I do this weekend, apart from a lot of work, but that is dull.

Pacific Rim Egret. This egret comes in 2 morphs , one white, one grey. This is the first dappled one I have seen.

Cattle Egret. You have to click on all these photos to get the full dappledness.

Eurasian Tree Sparrow eats rice missed by the gleaners.

Post Typhoon Kingfisher

Kentish Plover. Dude we are going to build a Marine Research Facility all over your ass.

Tern Island – there are hundreds of terns nesting here. I will bring the Scaffie here and anchor just offshore and get the best Tern photos.

These are Roseate Terns. Notice black crown, orange bill, orange legs.

In the same place are Black Naped Terns.

To my great disappointment, it would appear that the pair of Black Naped Terns that nested outside my house has not returned.

I snuffle around in the bushes close to the shore a bit like the questing vole as in, “Feather-footed through the plashy fen passes the questing vole.”

Busy Bee

Madame

Mr Howe, who had a nick-name that I cannot remember, could not pronounce the word “wasp.”

Never seen one of these before. Very beautiful. I would pay anything for an asian butterfly field guide in English.

80% of the beach is made up of hermit crabs

They look like pebbles but they ain’t.

Great day watching dappled things.

At a time of great work intensity Typhoon Irn Bru comes to call. We are ordered to go home at 2:00 on Thursday. Yippee! Even in my position of minor responsibility, I still exult at the opportunity of going home from school. This typhoon was not expected to be too bad but after spending Thursday at home we get the message that Okinawa is also closed down all day Friday. Yippee! I mean dash, I have so much work to do.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LGyKpx12d_E

So it blows like crazy all Thursday night. I watch the Scaffie, who is on the trailer in front of the house. She is rocking and rolling about. I rig a hose and fill her up with water to give her stability.

All day Friday I watch Mel Brooke movies. They are so funny.  They would be impossible to make these days. They are totally incorrect politically and diversity -wise. Although their message is completely liberal. The films talk about ni**ers and ch**s and J**s and make risque jokes, so poor Mel would be hounded out of his job today. Watch them.

History of the world Part 1

Blazing Saddles

More Blazing Saddles

It is more difficult to make social change through humor these days. The necessary language brands you as a deviant. Liberal fascism.

It blows and blows all day. All my work plans and deadlines are shot to hell. Probably a good thing.

Here is a movie.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VUfNxOj1DcI

A big deadline coming up as in Typhoon Irn Bru will hit us in the next few days. There is another deadline imposed by a big bug that has just settled on my distended gut. Should it go or should it stay? I wait and whilst philosophizing, the bug politely says Adieu and flies off somewhere else in the house.

You are welcome in my house.

Another deadline is building a Marine Research Facility at Serigaki. Lots of negotiation results in a Shinto scene this morning.

It will look something like this

Shinto rap

I love this stuff. U.S and Euro construction is very butch, scratch balls, hardhat, smoke cigar stub, profanity. Here it is asking for forgiveness.

Forgive us Fathers for we have sinned

Thanks Hisashi! The only important deadline is getting the Scaffie out of the sea before megacolossalimmense typhoon Irn Bru hits the island later this week. We sail over to the local harbor . We scoop the Scaffie onto the trailer and bring her safely home. Such fun as the sun goes down.

Yay! Hisashi, who is a good neighbor.

Met the deadline! Notice dirty copper after time spent in the tropics.

Hey! What would you rather do after do after work than winch boats to safety ?

Our house at home

It is now Sunday and, as I have a fairly dreadful week coming up, I wallow in the joys in front of my house. I do  not look at email and I leave my phone in the car. I do not believe in being plugged in 24/7. I look upon my weekends as a kind of Ramadan. I deny myself email and phone and so gain spiritual and physical healing.

My weekend persona

There is a subtle sense of desperation about today’s watersports as a mega typhoon is on its way to do harm. Will I be able to protect the Scaffie, or will I betray her in her time of need, as I did to Dileas. I sail out to the reef and scuba.

You gonna get there late on Route 58

The water is now so warm that a wetsuit, even a baby one, is superfluous. Well, actually they do protect you from coral cuts and Lion Fish and snake bites and stuff but I have never enjoyed squeezing the huge lump of lard that my body has become into tight rubber clothing.

Whose round is it?

Scuba diving is great fun if you reduce the fetishism to level extra low. I have shorts, a tank, a BCD, a mask, fins and a thing that lets me breathe the air that is in the tank. Whilst snuffling around the reef I come across a group of divers – tourists methinks.  What y’all doing in my hood?

Talk about fetishism. These guys are tightly bound and have all kinds of gadgets hanging off them. The gadgets are attached to nipple rings.

Time for a gin

Can you see the Lion Fish?
Highly venomous. They are much redder .

I am quite a good diver now in as much as I use little air and feel totally at home under the water. How lucky am I that I can do this only 200 metres  from my toilet.

Here is a little film about it.

There is no real subject to this post other than the great swell of time that is rolling across the ocean of my life. It is relentless. Things happen, people come, people leave, I do stuff.

Shoko left, which really is a pity. She is a truly good person in any way you want to define good. The great swell of her life is washing her towards Flagstaff, Arizona, which incidentally is on Route 66. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vifUaZQL8pc

We have a farewell party.

Beautiful Okinawan Women

Beautiful Okinawan Food

Shoko and husband

Two musicians come down on their own swell from Fukuoka. Kanako and Leo are their names. They play box and banjo. They are good. They used to live in Galway with an old Californian friend. Is n’t that strange as we play in a sweltering bar in Okinawa?

It is 30 degrees, the cicadas are deafening, I can’t drink because I am driving. Far cry from Galway

Kanako is good

Tonight, I go for an evening sail. No big swell washing me towards the future. Just a  gentle breeze wafting me around in the present.

Bye bye, Independence Day

It is fairly dark when I get back to the mooring. I secure the rudder, fasten the halyards to the mast, put the camera in the excellent waterproof bag that Ian gave me and flop over the side. The sea is warm, warm. I swim gently back to the house.

Orchid

So, farewell Auntie Margie, such a presence in the last 63 years of my life. You were 94 on passing, a fine age even in Okinawa, an isle known for the longevity of its inhabitants.

The Okinawans are big on ancestor worship and every August the island slows down to celebrate Obon. At this time the ancestors come back, arriving from the sea and coming up the beaches. They are met by singing and dancing from Eisa bands. Come back on Obon Auntie Margie. I will reserve a place in the parking lot.

Here are two young Okinawan girls singing ‘Shimanchu Nu Takara’ for you Auntie Margie. Apparently on a Brazilian TV show – work that one out.

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

Here is the same song with Eisa dancers, welcoming you back. Okinawa has a place for you Auntie Margie.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=33hvzy_CACw

Scaffie coming into the mooring

Harry and Shimizu san search the waters for signs of Auntie Margie

A moment of silence

Gus am Bris an La