Month: June 2018

We have checked the forecast, and everything is good for a departure today.

We just need a quick run to the shops to buy a stack of fresh food then we cast off our lines and head for the USA.

Yesterday was fun, it turned out we had to go to Wakayama City to clear out, they were very helpful, but it was still a 3 hour trip to their office by train, and yesterday the tail of the typhoon passed over bringing massive amounts of rain, Kathy was soaked through, as was her now defunct laptop. We were dismayed to see all the trains back delayed by 1 to 2 hours, but pleased when ours turned up just 15 mins late, however it wasn’t ours, it was one from a few hours earlier, also delayed. I asked and was told by a passenger it went to Kushimoto, but it only went half way, so we were left in a station 100 miles from the boat in torrential rain with all trains cancelled. Eventually Japan Rail (JR) provided a bus that got us back around 21:30 so it was a long day, just to get a stamp on a bit of paper. Still it was less painful than checking in.

We plan to leave before 12:00 in order to get far enough offshore to have passed the main shipping lanes and be clear of the fishing nets, we will be heading east to seek out the Kurisho current, this is like the gulf stream, unfortunately, it has taken a u turn just here, but by going east I hope to connect with it soon, it will sweep us up to the NE and across towards the Aleutians for a week or so.  The forecasts are excellent now, we might be becalmed a little in a few days time, but I don’t trust the forecast that far ahead, but the general theme of the highs and low pressure is working out well for us.

So I am off now to get 100 eggs, I wonder how many I will break in the bicycle basket, answer on a postcard to, bedraggled and hungry, somewhere near Seattle, USA.

PS I will try to get into the routine of a small post each day on the sat phone, but our position should be available from the link above or here

Paul Collister

 

It was free time sailing until Thursday 24th and after a conversation with the wife of the farmer the other night I was keen to visit Sanagi, an island famous for its cats (she also told me about a rabbit island but I thought Paul might baulk at that). It was only a short journey so we left at 11 30. Unfortunately, once underway the pungent aroma of sulphur wafted over from the quarter berth and we had to empty it out again to disconnect another battery. We arrived at Sanagi mid-afternoon and tied to a wall, watched by one solitary cat. A man came over shortly after and told us we could tie to the jetty where the ferry comes in. This was a much better position and I couldn’t wait to get ashore. I had spotted more cats approaching the jetty as we sorted our lines as if word had got out strangers were in town. Cats outnumber people here, and it was no surprise to find the town deserted. There were plenty of houses (several of which were shuttered up) and well-tended gardens but we met few people on our walk. It was a charming ghost town, as if most of the residents had decided to leave en masse one day. The ferry brings visitors over at regular intervals and they bring food for the cats, who also get cared for by the island’s few remaining residents.

We spent three days there and loved it. It was a peaceful and tranquil haven with hardly any traffic or other noise pollution. We got used to the coming and going of the ferry, and the captain always greeted us if we were around as he docked. Some of the islanders came to meet ferry passengers who were bringing provisions and loaded them into vans. The one small shop we saw was closed the whole time we were there, so it could be that the island has a ‘season’ when the shuttered houses are opened to be used as holiday accommodation. When the last ferry of the day had left, taking the day trippers back, it felt good to know it was just us, the islanders and the cats who remained to spend the night there.

The cats were healthy (apart from a few who sported battle scars) and pretty much had the run of the place. They were friendly and let us stroke them (I fell for a handsome ginger one but Paul said no to my request to bring it on board ;)). Most trotted out from gardens, temples or side streets when they heard us approaching and were vocal in their acknowledgment of us. We hadn’t thought to bring any food for them but Paul left some of the fish he’d had for dinner out on the jetty for them one evening. Naturally I took lots of pictures and they’ve been posted on Facebook as well as on Paul’s blog so I won’t overload this one, but here are just a few more of our time on Sanagi and the day trip we took on the ferry to Tadotsu in the rain.

We bid farewell to Sanagi on May 24th for an early departure to the next rally port of Bella Vista. There was an anxious time during the journey when the autohelm stopped working. As with many things, you only realise what a boon it is when it’s no longer an option. Hand steering is very tiring for hours at a time and my heart sank at the prospect. Thankfully Paul managed to effect a temporary repair after an hour of trying various solutions (he always does, determined as he is not to let anything beat him). We arrived at Bella Vista at lunchtime, helped in by KC and a few others. It’s a fairly industrial environment but the sea station was nice enough. The welcome dinner that evening was a more formal affair than the previous gatherings. Tables were laid for a sit down meal and a jazz band was playing.

The food kept coming; dish after fishy and meaty dish of it. The wine kept coming too, though and I had slightly more than my own and Paul’s share that evening. Not enough to join Paul for the end of evening speech though. Paul even joined in with a group performance of Rod Stewart’s ‘Sailing’ at the evening’s finale (no video footage unfortunately).

I’m sure I wasn’t the only one with a slightly sore head the next day for the morning trip to a Zen temple. It was a beautiful day for it – like one of the best summer days when it’s not too oppressively hot, just clear, warm and bright. Once again we gathered to get the bus for 9 45 precisely for the short journey to Shinshoji Temple. We were driven through a mountainous, picturesque landscape that reminded me of Alpine villages, especially with the profusion of pretty Japanese houses that looked so much like chalets. A robed Buddhist priest greeted us at the main gate when we got off the bus. He introduced himself as a German who had been living in Japan for 17 years, and went on to tell us he would be showing us around, would give us a short introductory course on the practise and principles of Zah Zen meditation and would preside over a tea ceremony experience. He led us into the campus and we were confronted with the sight of the most beautiful gardens I have ever seen. They looked just like the ones depicted in the Chinese willow pattern design, with bridges over a river, pagodas, gorgeous trees and colourful flowers.

The meditation pavilion took some getting into. First we had to take our shoes off and put some clogs on, which once on should not touch the grass. We formed an orderly line and as instructed, when we reached the door, put our hands together near our chests, bowed once before entering the room – left foot first – and then bowed again once inside. Once we were all sitting on the futons, the priest told us about the history and meaning of Zen meditation before we had a go at it. The rules and requirements for it to work came thick and fast: back straight, legs crossed, arms folded, count breaths, focus eyes on one spot, empty the mind, and so on. I can’t empty my mind, or sit still for very long either so I knew this wouldn’t be for me. Paul says it’s because I give up too easily but I feel that time sitting like that for hours on end is time wasted. The priest told us he had to go through pain barriers for his limbs to get used to the inertia of up to 17 hours in one position, and I thought ‘why would you do that!’ He also explained that there is an option for you to signal if you feel you are losing focus and a priest will beat you over the shoulders to ‘bring you back into line’. We all fell silent for our 5 minute session and I felt the urge to giggle within a minute – along with the urge to fidget. Clearly, being told to be silent and still ignites the need to make noise and move in me. The priest moved around us correcting our postures, and striking those who opted for the stick-beating part.

In all fairness, he was a lovely guy who answered lots of questions we put to him, and I found myself envying the ‘high’ he obviously got from the whole way of life he was devoted to. It was time for lunch after that and inside that venue, I had the first experience of sitting on the floor dining that Japanese restaurants are known for. Given the Buddhist setting I was pleased to see that the meal wasn’t completely meat and fish-based. Masa, the owner of yacht ‘Bunny’, sat with us and explained what was what. We were treated to ‘tofu miso soup’ and a variety of other traditional dishes including some that I could, for once, sample with the help of Masa’s explanations. His English was good, and his voice was as deep and rich as Morgan Freeman’s.

We were split into two groups after this (Japanese and English-speaking). One group would go to the tea ceremony venue, and the other to the light show at the art pavilion and then we would swap.

Our German priest escorted us to the building for the tea ceremony and once inside we sat against the wall while he explained the history of the ritual. Apparently it’s not about the tea (which is just as well because its taste is quite bitter). The emphasis lies in the protocol, ritual and calming atmosphere associated with the preparation. Certainly, the graceful movements of the two young men dressed in flowing black robes who set about serving us conveyed an air of ceremony. They brought us a cake, bowing to each of us as they placed the plate in front of us. The sweetness of the cake is to combat the bitterness of the tea – which was served next with more bowing and whispered greetings. It was all very interesting but I don’t think any one of us finished our drink, and a fair few cakes had only one bite out of them.

The light show we saw after that is best described as an ambient 20 minutes in a pitch dark room sitting before an infinity pool while lights ‘drop’ onto it. I have to admit it was relaxing, especially with the Brian Eno-like sounds and the huge Art Pavilion it took place in was impressive. It’s described as a ship-shaped building clad in traditional wooden shingles which appears to float over the landscape. The pic below gives a general idea (I was unable to edit it into an upright position on my mobile ?)

Continue reading “Setouchi Rally (part 2)”

The welcome briefing for the Setouchi Rally was at 3pm, so we explored our new surroundings on the bikes after lunch. Yuge is a pretty, sedate and quiet coastal town so very similar in appearance to rural seaside villages in Britain it was uncanny. The major difference is the lack of people and traffic, which made for great cycling. The beach we came upon was deserted and we sat soaking up the sun for a while and took a few pictures.

The first task for the participants had been told to us in advance via email. We were all to introduce ourselves in both English and Japanese. Knowing that we wouldn’t be able to memorise the Japanese part, I had written out a crib sheet for us to read out, and we had practised voicing the unfamiliar words for a few days beforehand. The briefing was at a venue just across the road from the sea station. From the 8 boats who were taking part, there were about 25 people; a mix of Australian, Japanese, Canadian and British. After a brief introduction and overview of the rally from KC, the organiser, the introductions began. We were first up, which was just as well, not least because I didn’t have long to be nervous about it all and bottle out. I read my one sentence introduction in Japanese, said the same in English and sat down to polite applause. Paul did the same but elaborated about the boat and our plans in English. After that, I felt put to shame by how much other people said in both languages. If we were being marked for performance there would have been a definite ‘more effort required’ admonishment. However, they all seemed like a friendly bunch, especially when we went back for the welcome party at 6pm where food and drink had been laid on for us all.   This would be the first of many parties where I couldn’t eat much of what was on offer. That isn’t a complaint, and it was always an impressive array if you like meat and fish. I knew it would be the case so I always ate before or after the events, and naturally never refused alcohol 😉 Other people find it more of a problem, and ‘worry’ about why I’m not eating, which in turn leads to a discussion about vegetarianism and so on and so on that I really could do without. We have, however, found a good phrase that usually brings a smile and a change of subject: ‘I’m veggie so Paul has my share of the food – he is teetotal so I have his share of the drink’.

On Saturday May 12th the first events took place. We all gathered at the venue and were introduced to the students we’d be taking out on our boats. From the local college, they were friendly and excited about the trip. We had three young ladies allocated to us, to Paul’s great delight (the much-posted picture shows it). It was a good morning, actually. The girls loved being out on the water and showed lots of interest in the workings of the boat. It was perfect weather for being out motoring around the bay. They loved going under the bridge, especially when they spotted their teacher on it, directly above us taking pictures.

After a short break we set off for the second event: a barbecue in a park. The students would be cooking lunch for the rally people alongside a beach a short walk away from the sea station. Luckily it was a warm, sunny day and they were able to cook and serve the food to us on the outside tables that had been set up. I was touched by their thoughtfulness when they found out I didn’t eat sausages and burgers and fish; they prepared some vegetables for me that they cooked on a separate grill. Plenty of beer, wine and soft drinks were provided too. We sat with a group of Australians who had joined a Japanese motor cruiser for the duration of the rally.

The Australian ladies explained the next event to me during the course of the lunch. Japan is famous for its onsens, and most guide books and sites recommend it as a ‘must do’ experience. The little I knew about them I’d interpreted as a hot spring/spa/Turkish bath type of thing. I had misgivings even then because hot, steamy environments make me claustrophobic but I was determined to at least try. After the detailed description conveyed to me at lunch I almost bottled out and went back to the boat. I tend to avoid anything with long, convoluted instructions and rules. The dos and don’ts for an onsen are staggering. Here’s a general idea of the most important factors – taken from guide books and sites explaining the procedure:

It’s known as ‘naked socialising’; bathing with strangers is supposed to break down barriers. However, when a foreigner visits for the first time he or she is presented with a minefield of potential faux-pas and embarrassment unless the rules are adhered to. Shoes must be removed after paying at reception. In the baths that are segregated the entrances are draped with curtains bearing the gender in Japanese characters (wait for a local if unsure which curtain to enter). Place shoes in a locker, then take all your clothes off and place in a separate locker or basket. Make your way to the washing area. This takes the form of either a shower or sinks with chairs where you can sit and pour jugs of hot water over yourself. Here you must scrub every inch of your body and rinse well because entering the shared baths bearing traces of soap or dirt is considered extremely offensive. Submerge yourself in the springs au naturel; swimwear is a no-no for the authentic experience. Sit and relax in the baths of various temperatures and afterwards repeat the scrubbing thoroughly before exiting (health and safety).

Yikes to most of that, I thought.

However, it was a long and boozy lunch so I had sufficient Dutch courage to fortify me as we walked to the health spa. I should have heeded my misgivings. I won’t disparage the procedure because it’s obviously popular and supposedly relaxing but it just wasn’t for me. I lasted less than five minutes in there before the heat and steam drove me out to the cool of the waiting area where I sat admiring the view and reading while I waited for Paul. At least I can say I gave it a try.

A bike ride was on the agenda for the following morning but it was called off due to the heavy rain. At the briefing, KC told us that the second onsen would, however, go ahead later that day. Paul surprised me by saying he would pass on it. I had already decided to sit it out but had expected him to go along. He explained that one plunge hot bath over a weekend was enough – we had plenty of hot water on board for a shower. The students were around all weekend and after they returned from the onsen, they gave out the famous Japanese lunch boxes to everyone, along with beer, tee shirts and badges.

The next part of the rally would resume the following Saturday in the town of Nio, so we were free to do as we pleased until then. One of the first things Paul got on with was fixing the boat’s heater. It took him a whole afternoon but he did it, and it warmed the boat up wonderfully on the chilliest evening we’d had so far.

Most of the other rally boats had left Port Yuge by Monday. We decided to stay on for a few days. One afternoon we went for a long bike ride around the whole island. We had to push the bikes up the steepest parts but the views were fantastic; all the rain and cloud from the previous day had disappeared to leave clear blue skies. The roads, streets and beaches we passed were largely deserted. There are no bars, cafes or convenience stores in the town and just one restaurant. Two supermarkets serve the island, and they were never crowded. All those factors, after the weekend burst of activity from the rally made the town seem even quieter. Nice for a short stay but a bit too quiet for me.

The town of Haru lies opposite the span of water separating it from Yuge. Paul had visited it in Ken and Belinda’s dinghy from Catamaran Free Spirit to see what the chandlery had to offer, and suggested we take a bike ride there across the bridges.  The views from the bridges were worth the strain on the legs from the steep parts, as was the exhilarating descent downhill. We had to get the ferry for the very short ride across the water; I think it lasted less than two minutes but they just go back and forth all day so it’s a very efficient and regular service. Haru was another charming ‘Northern Scottish’ coastal town. A little livelier than Yuge, it even had a couple of cafes and shops that were open.

By Thursday 17th May we were the only boat from the rally left at Yuge, and found ourselves among several Japanese yachts now using the sea station. One captain got chatting with Paul about respective plans and proved to be an enormous help. He recommended a yacht club for our post-rally journey that was one of the highlights of our Japan stay, and also gifted us a bottle of Saki. The kindness of people continues to touch us the longer we are here. The boat’s stainless steel had a good cleaning over the next couple of days; an ongoing task made easier, or at least more pleasurable for me by listening to books while doing it.

The next port of call on the rally was Nio, and we were up early on Saturday 19th May for the journey there. It took five hours, the only slightly stressful part being the crossing of a busy shipping lane. We’re getting used to those now though. We were the first to arrive at the marina and watched the other yachts arrive gradually during the course of the afternoon. The staff at Nio deemed it appropriate to play Kool and the Gang’s ‘Celebration’ on a loop for an over an hour, presumably as a welcome to us.  I could quite happily have sabotaged the music system after 15 minutes of it, however. The 5 30 briefing took place on the storey above the marina office. I had my first taste of Saki there, courtesy of the bus driver who would be driving us to the following day’s picnic venue. He had a huge bottle of it and was going around filling glasses. One sip was enough for me to know I would never touch the stuff again. Luckily there was plenty of wine, and Paul was happy to have my share of the food.

Later at the party, we were befriended by a lovely Japanese artist and her student daughter and chatted to them most of the evening, along with a Japanese carpenter and his wife who have a boat in the marina. The entertainment took the form of various dances with an Hawaiian theme, which were wonderfully performed using the undulating arm movements so popular in Asian dance. Paul did the speech on behalf of Sister Midnight. These speeches would be a regular event at the end of each party, along with the ‘final clap’ which signified the end of the celebrations. There would be an announcement, a countdown, and then we all clapped our hands together to create a loud noise  😉

That night we ended up with six Japanese guests on the boat. They were the carpenter and his wife, an organic farmer, an engineer and some friends of the farmer. One of them brought his home grown cooked broad beans which were delicious as a snack. We managed to converse with each other for two hours using their impressive English, Paul’s laptop, mobile phone photos, maps and facial expressions.

Sunday May 20th was the picnic excursion to Mount Shiude. Boarding the bus had the feel of a school outing, or a coach trip where you are all ushered onto the bus at the appointed time, and once seated a head count is taken. As its name suggests, Mount Shiude sits 300 metres above sea level so the bus climbed its way around steep winding roads, with stunning views across the bay during the half hour drive. We were bound for Shiue’s summit, which required a 20 minute walk up from the car park and thankfully wasn’t too strenuous, even in the heat. The lookout point, when we reached it gave us a spectacular view of numerous islands dotting the sea on one side and an island-less sea on the other. Lunchbox picnics were handed out after we’d had our fill of looking and photo-taking, and we all dispersed to eat (I’d brought my own lunch) before walking back down for the bus back at 12 45.

Back at the boat we found a bag of organic produce (pictured) had been left in the cockpit as a thank you from the farmer we’d chatted with the night before; another kind gesture and one which we were sorry to have missed receiving in person.

As it was such a nice day we went for a bike ride late afternoon and photographed more shrines, statues and the usual beautifully cultivated trees.  Next on our agenda in a break from rally events, was an island said to be inhabited mostly by cats!

Kathy

When I was a kid, my parents always said if you have a problem when out and about, ask a bobby, that’s a policeman for those outside of the UK, or not born mid last century! This might have been partly because my dad was a bobby for most of his working life, and any bobby I asked for help, was likely to know him, and might even know me from the police Christmas parties, or the various police cricket / sport activities I was dragged along to as a kid. However I would not offer such advice to anyone in Japan.

Why? well our plans are evolving, and right now the typhoon season has brought strong winds that has affected our departure date and location, rather than heading towards Tokyo and checking out of Japan there, or in Coshi, East of Tokyo on the coast, we may well leave from here, Kushimoto. We have everything we need for the passage now and the supermarkets are great, so we can stock up on fresh products without any issue. However Kushimoto lacks an Immigration and Customs office, so I need to find the nearest one, get a train there and get our passports stamped with an exit visa and get customs clearance so we can check into the USA. So how to find out where the office is, the Internet was no use, everything led me back to a number in Osaka I should phone, but I was reluctant to try this as they probably won’t speak English, and we don’t have a phone, so it would have to be on Skype. I asked at the tourist office, where the lady spoke great english, but she could only guess that the next big city might have one. So I thought the police might know, they have a big office here and must have relations with immigration so they should have some idea.

So I popped into the local station, telling Kathy I would be back in a few minutes so we could head off on our bikes and explore the promontory which is the most southern point on Honshu Island, more on that later. The police in the station spoke no English, so we were off to a bad start, after a lot of gesturing I thought I had got my point over, but they didn’t seem to have any ideas, I tried to leave but they asked me to stay, I had shown them my passport, and explained I needed a stamp, fairly easy to do on the gesture front, fairly easy to misunderstand as well, it seemed, as another officer, there were now 6 on the case arrived and took my passport, he seemed to be quite excited about this, and all 6 were on their mobile phones. I pronounced that I had to leave and not to worry, but they wouldn’t let me go. After an hour of them calling people, I was handed a mobile phone and spoke to a translator they had enlisted. He needed me to answer questions, how had I arrived in the country, was I alone, where was my wife, how much money had I brought into the country etc etc. I was a bit pissed off by now and asked why he needed to know, but the phone was taken off me and I was told to wait; another 30 minutes of watching them all phone people, more questions about my status as a traveller, then somebody shouted July, July , No June. At this point most of the police disappeared, leaving this younger detective to call the translator, who explained to me that in fact I hadn’t overstayed and everything would be ok as long as I applied for an extension before the end of July, another month away!

It appears they had misread my visa as expiring in June, not July and had me down as a criminal for overstaying my visa, given the state of crime here, I might have been the biggest criminal they had encountered in some time, and this would surely make the 6 o’clock news! Once it became apparent they couldn’t read a visa stamp properly, and to be fair June/July are western words, but to be fair to me, it was a Japanese immigration office stamp, so they should be able to work with the police to get a system that works, they all looked a bit embarrassed and most of them snuck away, leaving the young detective to ask me to wait a bit longer. I wasn’t really in a good mood at this point, it felt like I had been there for hours, but knowing how hot they are on manners, I waited a bit longer, only to be rewarded with the number for the Osaka branch, which I already had, and a request to call them on Monday when they were open!

I returned to Kathy, with one of my better excuses for being late!

So tomorrow I will phone Osaka, and I expect we will be told to visit the office in Wakayama City, a couple of hours on the train, but probably a nice day out.

Weather Fax (WEFAX)

Just a bit of info on Weather fax, forecasting and typhoons.

Right now we are ready to leave, with good winds from the right direction, we should reach the Juan de Fuca strait in the USA within six weeks, but we could be out there for longer if we don’t get the wind. At this time of the year we have two main concerns, one is leaving Japan, as typhoons (the Asian name for Hurricanes) arrive frequently, this is perhaps the worst area in the world for typhoons, and combined with strong ocean currents from the Kuro-shio current, we have to time our departure so we can get a few hundred miles offshore, and as far East and North as possible to escape the typhoon area and get into the favourable currents. The other concern then is to get the right course for the wind. In the North Pacific, much as in the North Atlantic, the weather consists of a series of low pressure systems travelling from West to East. These are sandwiched between high pressure systems on the artic and equatorial sides. The trick is to ride along the bottom of the lows around about 35-40deg N, then halfway across, head NE to our destination. Wander towards the centre of the low, and the wind may be too strong, wander into the highs and the wind disappears. If you end up at the top of a low you will have strong headwinds and an uncomfortable ride. Things are running a little late this year and the lows and highs aren’t where we want them to be, but the typhoons are around, we have had two since the end of the rally. Once we leave we won’t have internet, just a very basic email connection via our sat-phone. We can download weather forecasts and try to steer based on that, but we also have weather fax, which we can get over the HF SSB Radio.
I have included some pictures below that we receive. 

The above pic is annotated by me to show our location.

Below is the path of the Typhoon that is now downgraded and passing us

Here you can see the typhoon has become a normal low, still with strong winds

The technology , or rather the protocol is analogue based using tones, much like early modems did, and has been around for many decades, but it’s amazing how good the quality is as you can see from the rather cute testcard they have..

These are free to receive and I use a program called FLDigi on the MacBook to decode the audio signal int pictures.

Right now it looks like the current typhoon has been degraded to a gale, and it has now taken on the standard form of a low pressure system with a cold and warm front, we will wait for it to pass us by on Monday/Tuesday, and jump onto its tailwinds as it heads ENE and follow it away from Japan.  So Wednesday 20th is the current ETD.

Here are some pictures of us leaving the Ichimonji Yacht club we just received from them.

So until we get our clearance from Immigration and customs, we wait here hoping the weather behaves as predicted. I took the emergency tiller I made to a local workshop in the docks here and they welded it up for me, they did a lovely job, and wouldn’t accept any payment for it, but they seemed to appreciate my very low bow in return. On the bowing front, I noticed people bow to each other when on the phone, seems a bit superfluous to me, but must be similar to how I would nod in agreement to someone I was talking to on the phone. Interesting all the same. I have painted the tiller to stop it rusting and fitted a wooden extension to get the full length out of it. I was disappointed, but not really surprised that when I painted a completely smooth surface of new steel, a smoother surface you could not wish for, I ended up with lumps and ridges, brush hairs sticking out and bits of metal unpainted. Painting continues to be a challenge for me.

Paul Collister

Just a quick update. We are now at the start of the typhoon (hurricane) season here in the western Pacific. Weather forecasting is excellent, so we are not too worried, we waited in Osaka for a typhoon to pass by, many hundreds of miles offshore, then hitched a ride on its tail, down to Kushimoto where we are now waiting in a harbour, which is also a typhoon shelter, very safe. The typhoon that passed allowed us to sail here with following waves and a wind behind us of over 20 knots all the way, which is fine when it’s behind you, but the big ships we passed going into it where crashing into the sea, making waves splash 100 ft or more into the air from their bow. We have been waiting for a low pressure system to pass otherwise we have to deal with 30 knot headwinds, this should have passed by Monday and we would be setting off then, but today typhoon Gaemi was named, down by Taiwan and is heading our way! The forecast says it is becoming an extratropical low, which isn’t something I fully understand (yet), but I do know one of them was involved in ‘The Perfect Storm’, one of my favourite storm books. So we sit here and wait, Kushimoto is a sleepy fishing town, but has great shops and claims to have the smallest museum in Japan. We only have Kathy’s expensive 3G phone internet , so we can’t use it much, hence I send this report via our Satphone, without pictorial illuminations.
Paul Collister

Fukuoka was to be our next destination in Japan. I have to admit here, we couldn’t stop juvenile smirks every time we uttered the word, and couldn’t resist pronouncing it with a ‘v’ at the end instead of a ‘k’. We left Miyanoura on May 1st – in the rain.

It rained all day, and visibility was poor but we had the sails up and made an average speed of 5 knots. It was too wet and cold to be in the cockpit for long (for me) but I made an exception to look at some dolphins! These were the first we’d seen in Asia and were a wonderful sight. Knowing how intelligent they are I wondered later if they’d appeared to warn us of the conditions to come. We didn’t get a storm as such; maybe ‘heavy weather’ is a more apt description. Paul put reefs in the main and the spinnaker pole in place in readiness for the wind that was forecast through gribs via the satphone. It sounded and felt very strong when it arrived and the accompanying high waves had the bow bashing down onto the water creating alarming hammer blows on the hull again. Watches were abandoned as heavy rain and wind gusting 20 knots continued throughout the night – we used Paul’s alarm to do regular checks above and relied on our trusty equipment as a third crew member.

The rough weather, poor visibility and high waves persisted the following day as we progressed up the western coast close to Nagasaki.  At one point during a watch around 4pm I looked out and it was like a dome of milky white muslin had been placed over us; I could only see a few feet ahead and hoped fervently that no fishing boats were close by (they came later).

The wind increased through the second night and Paul worked hard on the sails to keep us balanced, getting soaking wet in the process. He had a hard night’s slog actually. We were approaching Fukuoka Marina in the early hours of the morning of May 3rd and I could hear the noise of the wind whistling, rattling and banging things above. The rain had finally stopped but damp clothes and slippery surfaces made it uncomfortable up there. Protruding rocks, fishing boats and ferries had to be avoided at the same time as keeping the course and rolling from side to side. The mainsail had crash gibed and he’d had to sort out a tangled headsail and change the spinnaker pole to the other side all while I was sleeping peacefully below.

When I went up to steer us into the wind so Paul could take the main down, the wind was still gusting 20 knots and the prospect of steering into a marina in the dark in those conditions terrified me. The huge city of Fukuoka lay before us with lighted buildings and all kinds of flashing lights which made it tricky to pick out the red and green of the marina entrance. As it got shallower, waves were breaking on the surface and in the pre-dawn light created the effect that water was rushing at us like downhill rapids. I had to steer us around while Paul got the fenders and lines ready. At this point I noticed marker buoys bobbing around next to us and panicked about nets getting caught in the prop.

Needless to say it was a relief to enter the shelter of the harbour and leave behind the strong wind and swollen and billowy sea-state. Now we just had to find a berth. No one was around and we circled around a bit to check for available places.  I shone a torch onto a likely-looking pontoon while Paul expertly guided us in. At 4 30am, I was euphoric to be safely berthed and celebrated with a whisky before going to bed. We moved to a new berth later that day after had Paul checked us in.

In the light of day we could see the area we’d been motoring around in was full of marker buoys, not the few I’d guessed might be around. Paul thought they were probably lobster pots anyway so the lines went straight down instead of across. We also saw the huge ferris wheel that dominates the landscape and serves as useful marker for getting your bearings. A large outlet mall is situated next to the ‘Marinio’ complex and is as popular as any retail outlet on a public holiday (it was Golden Week there, similar to a whole week of bank holidays). We had a look around it because Paul needed new footwear after the wet passage revealed the unsuitability of his shoes. After that we walked to a supermarket and passed a soulless housing estate and a massive golf practice arena; its towering safety nets were billowing in the wind. It looked eerie on the way back lit up as it was, revealing the golfers inside and loads of white balls littering the ground.

We did a three mile walk around the town and its outskirts during our stay, which began with a somewhat incongruous view of a replica of Notre Dame Cathedral near the marina, and ended on the beach area on the other side of a bridge over one of the many rivers that run through Fukuoka.Pics below are from the long walk.

The beach held the fascinating sight of several family groups of cockle pickers working hard digging in the sand for their catch while the tide was out. The sun was setting when we reached the small resort at the end of a pretty waterside walk and we had a drink in the delightfully named Banana Bar before getting a taxi back to the boat.

Before we left Fukuoka we bought a quilt for the bed; quite a change from the single sheet we’d got used to lying under in Malaysia and the Philippines but the nights were feeling decidedly chilly and layers of blankets proved to be fiddly and inadequate. It was a triumph to find one actually because most of the beds in Japan are single, so the majority of bedding on sale tends to caters for them. It was hard to leave the warmth of that quilt the next morning, especially as it was such an early departure to the Kanmon Strait. There would be no more night passages on this last part of the journey to the start of the rally.

Back at sea, the rain fell again and visibility was just two miles, if that. It was also very cold, and Paul felt constantly chilled due to his faulty weatherproof jacket.

We anchored at the industrial town of Kitakyushu at dusk in driving rain. Smoke was coming from factories, there was low cloud, fog, a grey rough sea and an icy wind. I couldn’t help remarking that it was like Armageddon. Apparently this area was the intended target in August 1945 for the second atomic bomb, but smoke from the factories created a literal smokescreen so it was dropped on nearby Nagasaki instead.

After a restful night at anchor the day presented more challenges in the form of bridges, fog, turbulent narrow channels, buoys, and boats coming out of docks. It was all strategically planned for however and my role was to monitor the AIS screen for vessels heading towards us. Doing all this meant I became more familiar with the symbols and signs on the screens. It’s certainly worth its weight in gold in terms of navigation, and so interesting to watch.

Near our next anchorage, at Nakatsu we had marker buoys galore to watch out for while a fine, drizzly rain fell. We anchored at 2 30pm in a sheltered harbour lined with industrial buildings, piles of sand and heaps of gravel. As it was still early in the day we got on with a few jobs, the most essential of which was fitting the new starter car battery Paul had bought in Fukuoka, which served as a temporary measure until brand new ones could be bought and fitted.

More dreary weather the next day on our passage to Himeshima: looking out on the horizon in the milky white air it was difficult to determine where the sea ended and the sky began. It was a short hop in the drizzly rain to tie on to another wall at 12 30 just as the rain got heavier. The rain didn’t stop all day. Rather than sit inside, while a new place was waiting to be explored, we braved the conditions and went for a walk later in the afternoon.

Once again the small town was empty of people. The few retail establishments and one café were closed but bizarrely, a tiny tourist information place was open. We went in and spoke with the very smiley young girl, who spoke a bit of English and enthused very enthusiastically at our answers to her questions. It would be easy to assume this was disingenuous but knowing the Japanese people now, this would be an incorrect assumption. Generally, they are sincerely interested in foreign visitors and not shy about showing it. There wasn’t much she could tell us or show us about Himeshima though – she did produce a quaint map for us which looked like she’d lovingly created it herself and we’ve added it to our treasured momentos.

Our walk revealed a desolate, empty place, yet it was charmingly atmospheric with the weather creating an apt factor to the bleakness, and at least it lacked the smoky industry we’d viewed recently. The beach’s only visitors were black crows who contributed to the eeriness; their loud, repetitive caws breaking the silence. We saw less than a dozen people the entire time we were there, and that includes a visit to a supermarket. Despite this, a regular ferry service is in operation, but for the life of us we couldn’t work out the need for such a frequent service.

When Paul took us out early the next morning the weather had improved. It was bright, warm and clear. He said Himeshima looked picturesque in the early sunlight but I prefer to remember its brooding and silent emptiness. We had entered the Seto inland sea; the region from which the rally we were joining takes its name – Setouchi. We were also close to another World War 2 scene of devastation – Hiroshima.  Again, we had to bypass a visit much to my disappointment. Despite the early sun and the blue sky the day was chilly and I was glad of my thermals. Our anchorage, at a place called Matsuyama was a pleasant and secure spot but the peace was interrupted by a crow scaring device which delivered loud gunshot sounds at two-minute intervals. Even though I knew they were coming I still jumped at each one. Thankfully they stopped at sunset. We were treated to a smack (yes, that’s the collective noun for them) of jellyfish looking for all the world like they were doing a synchronised dance around the boat, so graceful are they in their movements.

Now we were only one day away from the start point of the rally, and all the hurrying could stop for a while. We approached a major bridge we had to go under and got told off by the bridge controller. We should have got prior permission, he told Paul on the VHF. He instructed us to follow the path of the huge cargo ship in front of us and then called again a few minutes later to tell us to speed up! Rules state that vessels must not do less than 4 knots, which is what we were doing. I was annoyed because Paul had to keep going down to speak to him and I had to take over the steering in tricky places, like rapids for instance, and could easily have caused more of a problem than slow speed. The second bridge was a bit more nerve-wracking. Paul had done the sums about the mast height and the bridge height but as we got closer, the familiar doubt that we could fit comfortably underneath it got both of us. It really is most disconcerting.

It was a lovely sunny afternoon by the time we reached our berth at the sea station at Yuge, and we were warmly welcomed by the rally organiser and some of the other participants. Our race to get there was over. The new challenges for me would be quite different in the weeks to come.

Kathy

 

 

From the fishing port of Boze-Jima, we motored over towards Osaka, where we had a berth waiting for us at the Ichimonji Yacht Club (IYC). A few weeks earlier we had helped a Japanese yacht tie up next to us in YugeShima during the rally, we got chatting and the skipper was keen to know our plans, when I mentioned I fancied visiting a big city like Osaka to work on the engine and provision, he was excited as Osaka was his patch and he quickly whipped out his phone and called the commodore of a club which he knew provided a couple of visitors berths. This turned out to be one of the best bits of luck we had had so far. Ichimonji Yacht club is situated in a slightly barren area, just in between two large bridges on a sort of river/canal area.It’s a long quay, and the club has put out about 40 pontoons for their members and built a clubhouse on the quay.
The location is actually fantastic as it sits just 30 minutes from either Kobe, Kyoto or Osaka using the local train service. The nearest shops are a short cycle ride away, and we were provided with free bicycles by the club to use at our leisure.
The club members are fantastic people, so kind, generous and most helpful with everything we could want. They have built a lovely club here, the buildings are very ‘homebrew’, but provide toilets, showers, laundry room, Bar / Kitchen, club room, office, free fast wifi and a great well equipped workshop.On arrival the Commodore, Vice Commodore and the treasurer sat me down to explain everything, we could have free electricity and water, could use all their facilities and we could stay as long as we liked, however it would cost 300Yen / day ($3 or £2), next we were informed that we would be guests of honour at a party they were throwing for us on Saturday, and they would be very pleased for us to attend. It was all a little overwhelming, they really were going out of the way to make us welcome. When they asked if we had any food or drink preferences, I wondered how they would cope with a vegan and a tee-totaller, but they took that on board without any issue.
So we settled into a week of relaxing around, shopping, sightseeing and doing some boat work.
When the party came around, we both had to make a little speech to the few dozen club members who were there, then food was served, it was mostly cooked by the commodore, on the quay and was fantastic, Kathy thought it was the best veggie meal she had had in a long time, but I expect she will elaborate on that more.After the food, which kept coming and coming, we retired to the clubhouse where the members produced many bottles of whisky and proceeded to have a good time. It wasn’t long before the karaoke machine came out and we watched with great amusement each of the members present murder a great classic.To be fair, some of them actually sang really well. One of the young ladies present explained to me that I had to sing as well, as this was a Japanese custom, and it was not possible for me to opt out, as everyone seemed to be having such a good time it would have been silly not to join in, however I was surprised when Kathy joined me for a rendition of “Hey Jude ” after I had destroyed the song “Yesterday”.

The reason for all the beatles songs was that every time anyone asked where we were from, i.e. Liverpool, then the next words ushered were always “Ah the Beatles”, so they kept selecting songs from their repertoire, not something I would have chosen myself, but at least having heard all their songs at least a million times, I knew the words. We can’t have been too painful, as we got a good round of applause.The next day, several club members came to help me fix the engine and to run me around town, looking for copper washers and other bits. On one such trip, one of the club members bought me a present, some special soap he said would be great for cleaning the cushions in the boat, which made me feel bad about how dirty they had gotten. Keeping things clean is not one of my strong points. Today the commodore dropped of a bag of luxury biscuits as a gift, we have had so many gifts since we have been here, and we really don’t have much to offer back. I donated my new starter battery to the club, it’s only 4 weeks old, but surplus now I have bought the 5 deep cycle jobs.

We spent a day walking around Osaka, we had gone primarily to get my iPad and MacBook fixed at the apple store, they were good, as usual, but it turned out the great deal I got on extended warranty for my new iPad in Malaysia is applecare, and I had thought it was applecare plus. In the UK you only have one type of applecare, as you do in Malaysia, however I now know that the one in Malaysia excludes the accidental cracking of the screen that is standard elsewhere, do Malaysians do a lot of screen cracking? Getting apple to fix it was going to cost the best part of £300, so I declined, knowing I could get it done elsewhere for less than £100, also the MacBook proved to have a screen fault according to their testing, so I might have to have a new one which would make the battery replacement costly, as it turned out they returned the laptop to me the next day with a new battery, and I dropped off my iPad into a “Smart Hospital” for overnight repair.
While we were in Osaka we visited a few megastores and walked around the street markets. It’s a very impressive city, most of it being rebuilt after the Americans flattened it in WW2. I visited the peace museum and saw the horrific devastation caused by the allied bombs. Many accounts in the museum from people, often children at the time, made you appreciate what horrors ordinary people have to go through when there is a war, totally helpless to do anything about it. Photographs show most of the city as a flattened mass of rubble.
Kathy will no doubt write about our visit to the cat cafe, where we got to neck a cup of coffee in record time while stroking a cat, all for a bargain £10 each 🙁
Yesterday we headed over to Kyoto, once the capital of Japan, with the old imperial palace. We visited the Kiyomizu temple complex, saw lots of young ladies dressed up in Kimonos, this was my favourite temple so far (not just because of the young ladies), it had a great atmosphere, despite the throngs of tourists there. Later we walked around the old part of town where modern day Geisha girls learn their trade in special schools, and can often be seen scurrying around the streets, however we didn’t see any, just a lot of old buildings along the banks of a lovely river. Dinner in a falafel place then the express train home.

Today, I stripped down the binnacle to get access to the steering chain and throttle/gear lever. I oiled the chain and checked everything was good, two of the screws I replaced last time were rusting, so they can’t have been SS so they were replaced again. Losing the steering is one of my big fears and if the wheel steering fails we have an emergency tiller we can use, or we would have if I hadn’t lost it somewhere along the way. Yesterday I found a piece of box section steel in the local hardware store and mangled it into a tiller replacement in the workshop here at the IYC, it’s not brilliant, but I think it will work. I just hope we don’t have to steer by tiller for 6 weeks.

Earlier I was summoned to the club house where the vice commodore wanted to show me all the ports we might visit on our way out of Japan, he had thoughtfully brought charts and phone numbers to help. If I understood Mas, the club Treasurer correctly, the VC was previously a commercial pilot and had taken many aerial photographs of Japan and was an expert on the ports around the country.
After we had worked out some good ports we can visit or have as emergency refuge ports I asked how we might get a load of groceries back from the supermarket tomorrow, I was hoping for a taxi number or delivery service, but instead I was told a club member would take us there and bring us back in his car, and what time would I like to go! I tried to refuse their generosity, but they would have none of it, so tomorrow we are off shopping to fill a car with provisions, to give you an idea of what we will get:

48 * 1 litre bottles of fizzy water
several litres of wine (boxed)
48 cans of zero% beer
60 eggs
Loads of Kitchen & Toilet roll

The rest of the supplies we have been ferrying back on our bikes over the last few weeks.

Now we plan to leave on Tuesday morning, around 6AM and do a day sail to Ao Port, then a day sail to Kushimoto, from there a three day sail to Chosi, arriving on Saturday or Sunday next weekend, there we refuel, take on water, buy some fresh food, check out of Japan, and weather permitting hit the big seas.

Paul Collister.

We left Ishigaki on St George’s Day, beating a hasty retreat in case we became embroiled in any further argy-bargy with the coastguards. Paul tried to call them on VHF to let them know our intentions but received no reply, so at 8am we untied from the wall and I steered us out.

For me, the main thing about the night passage that followed, was learning how to deal with the steering on the wind vane. It needed lots of tweaking (much more than the autohelm) and it took me a while to get the balance right but I got there in the end. It’s just as well because that’s what we’ll be using when we cross the Pacific. We managed without the engine all the next day too and had a blissfully uneventful day until Paul said another storm was on the way. Had this one, when it arrived, been the first one we’d experienced at sea, I would have been terrified but the two we’d recently gone through were far worse so I was almost blase about it.  The radar picture shows the extent of it (although some of that is the land mass of Okinawa).

Paul got soaked through up above and it’s become clear that the brand new oily Gill jacket he bought is faulty. Very frustrating as it was expensive and from a supposedly reputable company. I carried out my usual role of shouting out radar, iPad and AIS info – we were perilously close to a couple of fishing boats at one point. I also managed to make a couple of pot noodles which was all we felt we could eat. We had to put the engine on to aid the steering but the storm abated as quickly as it arrived and by dawn we were approaching Yonabaru.

It was a chilly, murky and grey morning on the long, slow approach to the harbour. We had our thermals on and a cold rain was falling. At least the sea was calm. Berthing in the marina at Yonabaru was such a contrast to tying up at Ishigaki. The smiling man who took our lines bade us welcome to Japan and gave us unasked for useful local info and then the manager came out to extend his welcome by showing us around the facilities and explaining the gate codes etc. It made such a difference, and the marina itself was very peaceful.

Yonabaru town was fairly unremarkable but it had everything we needed. The land adjacent to the marina is reclaimed and everything has a newly-built look to it. A wide river runs through the middle of the town and it’s notably larger than Ishigaki. In the supermarket I spent a lot of time scrutinising tins and packets trying to work out what they were, or contained. I had downloaded a couple of apps before we entered Japan that were supposed to translate kanji phrases from pictures on an iPhone. I wasn’t surprised when they didn’t really work. Paul was game enough to buy something different – and it turned out to be a battered sausage on a stick! Back at the marina, Paul went to enquire about wifi at the office and returned to tell me that the manager had been in conversation with a journalist about our trip and plans and wondered if we’d be interested in being interviewed. We planned to be out all the next day visiting the city of Naha so we’d miss him unfortunately 😉

Naha, the capital of Okinawa is a big, lively city which is still home to thousands of US servicemen and their dependents after the post-war American military presence. My guide book informed me that there is a vast selection of army surplus junk such as bullet and shell casings on sale in the centre. We never saw or looked for any of that, or the ‘boisterous nightlife and busy red-light district. Our trip began with some perplexity about how to get there. A plan to simply find a bus stop and get on a bus to Naha was thwarted when we couldn’t find a bus stop! Paul asked a man who was walking nearby and after a brief conversation, he insisted on taking us there. It was so kind of him and he wouldn’t accept any money for the journey. I have a feeling he was chuffed about our plans to visit the castle there because he seemed very proud of it. He dropped us very close to its entrance, with hopes that we had a lovely day.

The castle resembled a Chinese temple more than our perception of a castle, which isn’t surprising really since a lot of the architecture and culture in Japan is hugely influenced by the Chinese. The info leaflet we’d brought stated that the original castle MIGHT have been constructed around the 14th century. The details aren’t known but for approximately 500 years it stood on the hill as a centre for politics and foreign diplomacy until it became a casualty of the Battle of Okinawa. When the islands of Okinawa were returned to Japan in 1972 a decision was made to commemorate the 20^th anniversary by restoring the castle using 18th century Shurijo as the model. I was beginning to get the idea, which was confirmed once inside with the use of words and phrases like ‘reproduced’, ‘replicas’ ‘based on’, that this was a representation of a castle rather than an original one. Some of the interior rooms looked like empty Ikea showrooms. Still, they had done a good job of reconstructing it as a whole, and the grounds were beautiful. It was worth the visit – pics below taken where we were allowed to.

Some excitement for me after that. We went on a monorail to get us to the centre of Naha. I have never been on one, apart from the ones in theme parks and airports. This one was great; so smooth, fast and efficient as it transported us high above the buildings.

We got off at a stop recommended to us by a guy we asked in a tourist office. He must have had us down as wealthy because we found ourselves in the heart of a designer mall, which was eerily deserted. We passed shop after pristine shop; Fendi, Prada, Marc Jacobs, Cartier and the like, with immaculately coiffured staff standing behind counters with nothing to do. Nothing for us there so we went in search of some lunch. A Subway inside a bookshop made for a pleasant lunch break and a chance to consult our maps and guides. Naha’s main street was recommended as a must. Named Kokusai Street, it stretches for 2 kilometres through downtown Naha and boasts restaurants, cafes, bars, souvenir shops, boutiques and department stores. It had all those and more, and reminded me of The Lanes in Brighton. We visited the huge public market too and by 4pm I was in need of sustenance in the form of wine.

Getting a bus home proved to be something of a challenge. The internet provided info regarding numbers and routes but we stood at the wrong stop for ages before we realised. Once we found the correct one a helpful lady told us the procedure for buying tickets. You take a ticket when you get on the bus and the zone you’re in is stamped on it, than as the bus travels into new zones, the price on the bus display changes. When you get off, you put the fare currently showing on the display into a machine that counts the coins. We’d never have worked all that out without her help! People really are very willing to help in Japan.

We left Yonabaru on Friday 27th April for a three day passage on the East China Sea to Miyanoura on the island of Yakushima. An uneventful passage apart from my falling down the steps and first, bashing my knee on the metal coat hooks and then when trying to right myself, with one leg still in the cockpit, slipping again and bashing it on the wooden grab rail. A few swear words were uttered at the ensuing excruciating pain. Nothing was broken but it caused me to limp for quite a while and six weeks later, still hurts at times. It showed me that no matter how complacent you feel about nimbly moving around the boat in rocky conditions, the force of a wave can unbalance and injure the most careful of people. Still, I managed my watches by moving very slowly and sitting still for as much as possible. I did my first night watch in a warm woolly hat during that passage, while the moon was three quarters full and created a shimmering golden path on the surface with a comforting amber glow all around.

Paul saw a submarine surface during one of his watches – a sight I would have loved to have seen. He said it looked like a black rectangle and seemed to follow us for a time. By chance, several of the books I was reading at the time were all sea-related and one in particular resonated with his description. Jules Verne’s ‘20,000 Leagues Under the Sea’ focuses on the fictional submarine journey of The Nautilus, a vessel used by Captain nemo to take revenge on civilization by ramming and sinking ships. The other books were ‘The Old Man and the Sea’ by Hemingway, about a man who has trouble catching a fish, basically ;), ‘Lord Jim’, a brilliant philosophical story by Conrad, which contains this apt phrase:

‘trust a boat on the high seas to bring out the Irrational that lurks at the bottom of every thought, sensation, emotion’.

Coleridge’s ‘Ancient Mariner’ is a constant reread for me; several of its lines come in to my head in the manner of an earworm, only more welcome. I also enjoyed ‘English Passengers’ by Matthew Kneale, about a voyage to Tasmania in the 19th century. On we went, alternating between port and starboard tacks. Early morning fog and mists made an appearance and reminded me of the autumnal mornings in the UK that I’ve been missing so much. As we got closer to Miyanoura, a huge oil tanker from Singapore, which according to the AIS was ‘drifting under no command’ and should have given way to us, blasted its horn 5 times which Paul explained meant ‘show your intention’ but sounded more to me like ‘get out of my bloody way!’.

Our first view of the island of Yakushima, on the morning of Monday 30^th April was through a fine drizzle of a showery rain and low-lying cloud. This made the mountainous terrain beyond the bay even more atmospheric and attractive to my eyes. Paul was togged up in his oilies and rain pattered on the hatches as we neared the wall we intended to tie to. It turned out to be too precarious for the boat once we were tied to it. There was a lip jutting out that would bash the wood at low water so Paul went off to investigate other options and we moved to the harbour wall just round the corner.

I loved Miyanoura from the moment we got off the boat. It was as if we’d landed in Alpine Europe, complete with pretty chalet-style houses.

Yakushima Island is proud of its World Natural Heritage designation, and a visit to the village information centre revealed all the pursuits and attractions on offer. There are mountain climbs, forest trails, wilderness hikes and information about the legends, nature and culture of the area. As we walked around the largely deserted, quiet town it continued to rain softly and the river, in the dusk light looked spectacular. No apologies for taking lots of pictures of misty, magical Miyanoura.

We ended our day there by stumbling upon a restaurant near the harbour in the style of a country pub, just as we’d given up hope of finding anywhere to eat in the empty town. We were its only customers and typically, it looked as if it was closed at first. The food was a bit pricey but nice enough. I would have loved to explore Miyanoura further but the start date of the rally was fast approaching and we needed to make progress to get to the venue.

Kathy

 

My first view of Ishigaki, on a grey, drizzly Tuesday morning mid-April surprised me by how big it was. Tall skyscrapers in the distance conveyed a busy metropolitan inner city, while an industrial environment dominated the foreground.

I felt colder in the cockpit that morning than I had in a long while as we approached the harbour, and Paul briefed me on what to expect. This included tying the boat against a wall – something we hadn’t done for a long time, that it would be quite shallow in the harbour, and that we would be visited by customs and quarantine officers. Our yellow quarantine flag was duly hoisted and we made ready to dock. On the way in, we passed several Japanese Coastguard boats: huge vessels and visibly well-maintained, they dwarfed any boats near to them.

It wasn’t obvious to see where we had to aim for exactly, but after some motoring around we saw a guy on a quay gesturing for us to come to him. The wall looked terribly high and it was a bit nerve-wracking but I threw the line to him and almost immediately three other officials appeared on the wall peering down at us. I put my hand out to push us away from the wall but was told not to touch anything yet by one of the men (presumably until we’d been quarantine-cleared). Unfortunately this meant that the wooden cap rail suffered some damage from rubbing against a concrete shelf that was jutting out until Paul got the fender boards fitted.

We didn’t stay there long anyway. Two guys in a coastguard dinghy escorted us to a different wall; this one nearer to the town. We were instructed to remain on the boat until our inspections had been completed. The first of these was the quarantine officer who according to Paul, fell quite drastically when he attempted to come on board because the tide had dropped so much. While he was on board, the team of six customs inspectors lined up on the wall to await their turn. The quarantine guy was keen to get away after his ungainly entrance, so as soon as his bit was done he left us with a terse command to ‘take down your flag’. Four of the customs officers interviewed Paul in the cockpit while two came down into the cabin to swab surfaces and to look inside various cupboards and lockers and swab the interiors. We’d heard about the meticulousness of the authorities and now we were seeing it in action. They were all nice and polite at the same time as being serious about their duties. Paul was asked if he had ever been to North Korea in the boat and he had to declare precise dates concerning arrivals and departures regarding the countries we’d visited so far. After customs, it was the turn of immigration. They were waiting with transport on the road above the wall, which due to the tide continuing to drop seemed even higher and looked totally inaccessible to me. In the end, I had to suffer the indignity of being pushed up from the rear by Paul while the immigration guys pulled my arms to haul me up! We were driven to the immigration building where we went through the fingerprinting, photographing and form-filling procedures now so familiar to us and were then driven back to the boat, all legal…or were we!?

Late in the afternoon we walked into town. We began from a dockside, industrial area so we saw grey, square concrete buildings and factories on the way. We also saw some of the ubiquitous drinks’ vending machines that are situated on virtually every street. The odd tree had blossoms on it but we had arrived too late to see the famous Japanese blossoms.

We had two missions to fulfil in town: finding an ATM to draw out some money, and to obtain some mobile data. Knowing beforehand that ATMS in Japan are fairly few and far between but can generally be found in Post Offices, we located a Post Office. It looked surprisingly similar to a UK Post Office inside, right down to the queueing system and packets of brown envelopes and string on sale – here, though they stay open until 7pm. In a scenario that would become all too regular, Paul’s card was not accepted in the ATM so we had to use mine. It turns out his card can only be used in machines in a 7/11-type shop called FamilyMart for some reason.  We had even less success getting mobile data. It turned out to be a convoluted and pricey business so we put that on the back burner for the time being and continued using Paul’s Malaysian data plan.

Ishigaki, away from the docks was quite charming. There were gift shops, wine shops, a colourful market street with a plethora of neon signs, but with fewer people than I expected to see (this would definitely become the norm the longer we stayed in Japan). Some of the buildings were hard to identify. They could have been a shop, a café, a bar or even a house, and it brought home to me how tricky it’s going to be to decipher things with so much of the signage in kanji.  Supermarkets are less of a problem, however, especially when you just need fresh produce and once we’d bought a few essentials we walked back to the boat, stopping on the way to have a drink and a snack in a trendy ‘eaterie’ area near to the docks.

Our mornings at Ishigaki began with the blasting of ships’ horns and tannoy announcements from the captains of the coastguard boats as they prepared to leave for duty. Our first morning, however, had the addition of another succession of visitors. The first of these was the coastguard who also needed to know precise details concerning where we would be going…and when…EXACTLY!  More turned up later and the cry of ‘captain, captain’ from the wall became a familiar refrain.  A discussion about fuel formed the basis of one visit. They wanted to know how Paul would get it into the tanks without any spillage. From my position at the cabin table I could see more legs appearing at the windows above me and a discussion going on as more joined them. One guy came on board to look at the fuel gauge, while outside some shouting was going on which sounded alarming to my ears; perhaps ‘barked commands’ would be a more apt description. The visits and questioning continued throughout the morning, with the fuel issue culminating in one of the officers threatening to revoke Paul’s licence to travel if he overfilled the tanks. In fairness, they looked and sounded more threatening than they actually were but it was still a bit unnerving after the laid-back attitudes in Malaysia and the Philippines.

After the diesel had been delivered satisfactorily  we took a taxi to the Department of Transport office where Paul had to apply for a permit to enter Japan’s closed ports (a requirement that was soon to be abolished as it turned out). That done, we went to the town library expecting to pick up some wifi there but although they didn’t have it, a helpful member of staff told us where we could get it. Ishagaki’s waterfront is lined with cafés and bars and one of them, called The Blue Cafe offers free wifi as well as wine by the glass and a host of other delights. It became a regular haunt during our time there. I had a look round the library before we left for the cafe and was impressed with its layout and comfort, even if I couldn’t work out what was what.

The battle with the port authorities continued. Paul returned from a trip to the office one morning with a story far too complicated to relate, about his efforts to change the status of the boat to make it easier to enter closed ports for our onward journey. Naturally, none of it is made easier on either side with the language barrier. The little I gleaned from these episodes is that life seems to be made a lot more complicated for all concerned due to all the bureaucracy involving rules and the associated paperwork, instead of making it more organised, which is surely the point. Paul pointed this out to the manager in a more tactful way, adding that it was almost as if they wanted to deter yachtsmen from visiting their country and he looked most offended by the criticism. Coincidence that shortly afterwards the whole system of closed ports was abandoned? Probably. Anyway, that day it took almost the whole afternoon for Paul to provide the required information. When we could finally get out, we visited the peace bell area in the town and took a few pics before heading on to the café to upload, post and research to our hearts’ content.

Problems with officialdom began to mount up and by April 20th had become even more frustrating. We were told we couldn’t refill our gas containers, and that due to those convoluted regulations concerning closed and open ports we were unable to check out at ishigaki’s port. Our plans to hire a car were also thwarted by a barrage of complications. On it went all morning, with Paul mulling over various options to try to override it all. Finally, he worked out a way to change the boat’s status to Japanese. In the manner of the word ‘Rumplestiltskin’ magically making everything alright with the world in the fairy tale, such was the case here. Paul said the guys wanted no more forms, no more questions to answer and we were free to go wherever and whenever we liked. Now we could concentrate on the mobile data problem!

For this, we got on our bikes. We pedalled along the coast road, intending to go to the airport where we’d been told it might be possible to get a SIM card. On the way we stopped to look at a shop called The Exciting Bookstore. Unfortunately it didn’t live up to its name but while I browsed, Paul discovered that the airport we were heading for had moved to a location ten miles away. We did, however, manage to get SIM cards in a small mobile store which were a bit pricey but worth it to have access to up to date information, especially for the weather.

On the afternoon of Saturday 21st we set off to have a look at the Yaeyama Peace Memorial Museum. It was created to construct a centre that conveys the truth about wartime malaria. Many people were forced to leave their homes under orders from the Japanese Imperial Army during World War 2 and had to settle in malaria infested areas. The museum was full of information on how they managed to eradicate the disease. It was heartening to see that the overall message was about peace.

We continued our bike ride along the coast after that. It was interesting to spot a group of children playing a baseball game in one of the parks we came upon. It’s a game that’s very popular in Japan and I was surprised to discover that it began here in 1872 – not, as I assumed, as a result of the American occupation. It’s currently one of Japan’s favourite participatory and spectator sports apparently. The afternoon was cloudy, and airless which gave the deserted beaches and resorts an eerie, rather soulless atmosphere. Great to be out on the bikes though.

Halfway through a nice, leisurely Sunday morning on our last day in Ishigaki while we were drinking coffee, catching up on news and internet stuff as you do, the pleasant silence was broken by a klaxon-like alarm emanating from my phone. The picture shows what came up on the display, and despite the word ‘drill’, it was the disaster bit that I focussed on, especially when Paul said we should probably get ready to leave the boat! We didn’t, but I was beginning to get the feeling that Japan likes to be prepared Boy Scout fashion for all eventualities. I’m still not sure why it flashed up on my phone like that, and probably wouldn’t even if it was explained to me.

It was time to provision and prepare for our next Japanese destination. The following day we would be back at sea for a couple of days, on our way to Yonabaru.

Kathy

 

Having arrived at a safe place close to the big cities of Osaka and Kobe, I decided to take on the engine repair. Based on the fact that if (or more likely when) I mess up, I can call in the professionals.

The job required the removal of the fuel injector, and trying to figure out why exhaust gasses and fuel were leaking out from it.
In order to remove the injector, I first had to remove the high pressure fuel return lines from all the injectors, so I could get those pipes out of the way. This was easy, the supply pipe for the bad injector was next. A few other bits of engine came off to help with acesss, then I could try to pull the injector out.
I expected this to be difficult, and when I tried, it was just completely seized in, I guess this was to be expected, carbon buildup on the inside is normal. I believe there is a tool to help pull these injectors, but there was little chance of me getting hold of one. I visited a local hardware store to see if I could build something, but I couldnt find a bolt with the right thread to screw into the injector, so gave up. I put the whole thing back together and thought if nothing else I might have learnt how to remove the high pressure lines. Amazingly the engine still worked, and I couldnt see any fuel leaks. So nothing was lost.
Chatting with the locals here at the sailing club, one member with experience of engines came along to help the next day. I stripped it all down again and he had a go at removing the injector, he couldn’t extract it, but did manage to rotate it a degree or two. I had assumed the injector was keyed and so didn’t try to rotate it. I’m very conscious that an injector is a very high precision device and I’m worried about damaging it in any way by using too much force on it. However after the engineer gave up, I continuing to wiggle it back and forth whilst applying liberal amounts of WD40, eventually it paid off and the injector pooped out.

Here you can see the copper washer close up, there is a chunk missing, perhaps 0.5mm deep which I hoped was the cause of the problem. A trip to the local hardware store failed to find anything close to the right size so I need to order the correct replacement. In the meantime I carefully sanded down the washer to make it flat again.

My problem with this approach was that both sides are not parallel now, something I have had problems with going right back to my first days in woodwork and metalwork at school. I tried to smooth down the higher side, but knew I was on a looser as that would give me a round side, so I got it as close as I could and hoped that the compression that would be applied would flatten it out.  I annealed the washer, this should make it more malleable.
I reassembled it all, after a lot of meticulous cleaning of the injector socket, not at all sure if it would work, but it started first time, with no need for bleeding, and the horrible noise that I had before of the gas escaping had gone. The engine was sounding much better, but closer inspection revealed a small amount of gas still escaping from the injector. the seat that the injector sits in looked like it could do with a polish, but it’s very difficult to access. At least I know how to dismantle it all now, and hopefully when I get the new washer I can try that, however I may get a mechanic in when I reach America/Canada and get that and a few other jobs done on the engine.

While here I managed to get a few more batteries from amazon, they had a limit of 3, and I needed 5, now we have 5 new batteries, and from the pic below it looks like I’m praying, probably that I get more than 3 years out of this batch.

I had actually decided to go for Lithium Ion batteries, but they aren’t available here, so I worked out that these 5 batteries came in at about £450, and if I get a couple of years out of them, hopefully technology will have moved on in those two years and I will be able to save that much on the Lithium Ion batteries. At least we have power for the passage and don’t need to worry about that.

I have started an inspection of the boat now, working from the tip of the  bowsprit to the back of the monitor wind steering checking everything, looking for frayed ropes, split wire, loose bolts or anything that might not be 100%. It didn’t take long to find that the block (pulley) that feeds the furling line onto the staysail drum had split and I only had half of the  sheave, which itself had sharp edges and a chunk missing. That explains why I was finding the furling to be stiffer than normal recently. Soon I will climb the mast and do the same checks there.

On the way here I ran the watermaker, however it didn’t live up to its name, as it wouldn’t make water, it seemed to have trouble drawing sea water from the hull fitting, but when I put the maker into bypass mode it drew the water, then switching back to normal mode it continued and we made 20 litres of good water in a couple of hours, so that’s good. We also managed to decant some propane gas into the spare cylinder from Ken, our neighbour in Onomichi last week. so we have gas. We have bought a small portable stove and a dozen butane cylinders, as a backup.

So with gas, water, electric and a much improved engine all fixed, the main concerns are gone. I’m also focussing on the human side of things, like warm clothing, bags of chocolate bars etc 😉 and brushing up on my basic weather forecasting skills.

We have found a massive supermarket just a short ride from here, next to the two massive DIY / Hardware stores, so we will provision fully here, tomorrow I go to the Apple store in Osaka to see about a new display for the iPad (Main Nav device at the helm) as I dropped it the other night, and new batteries for my MacBook, which can’t hold a charge for more than an hour now.

If all goes to plan, we will be ready to leave for the big passage in about 5 days time, so then it’s just a case of working our way east, stopping along the way if the weather changes, then off.

Paul Collister.