The Marine Quarterly

So, the longer I live in Okinawa the smaller is the granularity of my observation. All the most noticeable stuff, I have noticed. The result is that my posts become more personal and lacking in drama.

So here is another one that is really only of interest to me. Sorry.

Although lost in the East China Sea, a lot of people pass through. I had a dinner thing on Wednesday. Ken I have known for 30 years, Susan for 10, Tsumoro I met 10 years ago but have really known over the last 3 years, John only 3 years.

Drinks on the beach. Tsumoro, Susan, Ken, John

Drinks on the beach. Tsumoro, Susan, Ken, John

I rush up to Miyazato san and Noda san who live on the hill just above my house. They are the best people. “Help, loads of people coming to eat. I have no food , no time.” I mime. They cook up the best meal ever and bring it down. Each of the, who knows how many, dishes  was either grown in their garden or hoiked out of the sea in front of my house.  This is the real thing. It is what you read about in the Sunday newspapers.

Miyazato san and Noda san in their front room that doubles as a restaurant. The big plastic pails are full of pickles.

Miyazato san and Noda san in their front room that doubles as a restaurant. The big plastic pails are full of pickles.

Anyway the weekend comes and I live my life, which as I tried to get across in the introduction, is pretty much the same as the life I have lived over the last 3 years.

I wander around rock pools.

Endless enjoyment here

Endless enjoyment here

I read The Marine Quarterly as the night falls.

I read The Marine Quarterly as the night falls.

I see a Barred Button Quail on my way to buy fish on Sunday.

Bad photo but very rare bird.

Bad photo but very rare bird.

I buy vegetables at one of the many vegetable stalls which stand near smallholdings. The vegetables are like totally you know organic, in fact from their mother’s womb untimely ripped  the same morning. You just put money into a little box. The idea that anyone would cheat or steal the money is of course unthinkable.

Sweet potatoes, carrots, onions.

Sweet potatoes, carrots, onions.

I cannot launch Dileas as there was a big storm last night and the sea is agitated.

The road out of the harbor. No red port left

The road out of the harbor. No red port left

However I spend a lot of time at Maeda port from whence I will eventually launch. It has to be one of the best little ports.  There huge lumps of rock right in the middle that you have to sail around.

Maeda port- a kilometre from my house.

Maeda port- a kilometre from my house.

The road to Maeda. You should click on all these photos.

The road to Maeda. You should click on all these photos.

There are also lots of you know what.

Pacific Rim Egret fishing

Pacific Rim Egret fishing

Same bird 2 seconds later.

Same bird 2 seconds later.

An Osprey drifts over

An Osprey drifts over

Rock Thrush is blue

Rock Thrush is blue. His woman done gone.

 

 

 

 

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3 Responses to The Marine Quarterly

  1. Ian Calder says:

    Fine looking port – but I don’t see the slip. Nice and sheltered and reasonably steep. The Rock Thrush has polished his beak for the evening.

  2. Click on the photo Road to Maeda to enlarge. On the right you will see a very long slipway with lots of boats parked at the top. Today I got permission from the village elders to launch my boat. This is unheard of as they are very protective of the harbor, dreading invasion by yaaachters and people wearing yellow wellies. I bribed them with promises of honorary doctorates. hooray looks like the perfect daydream is going to happen. Come over for a sailing holiday. We could also invade North Korea or the Senkaku Islands just for fun.

  3. Ian Calder says:

    Cripes – more of an invasion beach – I was looking for a UK style, narrow, awkward passage. Splendid, but it has the inevitable green slime, so maybe a good move to use a length of rope, particularly if the brave truck is rwd?
    We will be heading your way soon. Details tba.

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