The first week in Japan is done!

It’s so hot this afternoon in the marina at Nio, where we arrived just after lunch, that we’ve retreated to the harbour office. We can sit here in blissful air conditioning until the restaurant upstairs opens. And I finally have the time and the energy to type up a little post…

Last Monday, right on the agreed time, we motored into Hiroshima Kanon Marina. The last night at sea was suddenly very busy: fishing boats with enormous lights, merchant ships buzzing around our ears every few minutes, and then around midnight, just as you’re going through a churning narrows in the channel, fog as well! Once again very glad to have the radar, and that I’d taught Maarten how to use it. Watchkeeping got a bit chaotic that night, but of course we’d also caught the “landfall jitters”. In the morning we were suddenly sailing through scenery! With green stuff! And little boats and big boats! Quite something after 4 weeks at sea in which we saw literally one container ship. Even off the coast it was surprisingly quiet. And then into the local IJsselmeer and bam! Packed!

When we got to the pontoon we could wave to Marion and Ella, who were already waiting for us. But we weren’t allowed near them yet; formalities first. Tomoko from Konpira (representing the agent) was already waiting for us too. She’d also been up early, as she’d had to come all the way from Fukuoka. We’d barely made fast before the first four officials were on deck. First a lady from Animal Control had to be satisfied. Quickly fill in a form (which I’d already filled in and sent off, but oh well) declaring that I had no animals on board, a quick look inside and she was done. Next up were customs together with the coast guard. It was quite funny, because customs weren’t actually all that interested in whether we had meat, fruit and vegetables on board. We’d thrown out the American mince and chicken, as well as the onions (lots left over) and some leftover veg, plus a dozen cans of nasty Panamanian “light” beer, because according to the agent we’d be in trouble if we had too much alcohol, or meat and veg etc. We still had the delicious sausages from Panama, but since they were in the freezer we thought we’d wait and see. Well, it didn’t matter at all, as long as we didn’t bring any of it into Japan (i.e. off the boat). Okay… The alcohol did get a slightly closer look. Then it was the turn of the medicines. I showed them the medicine chest with the “this is for emergency” stuff, and the big bags for Marion and me. Well, from those last ones they picked one out (for high blood pressure, which I take for its side effect on the kidneys). That was then tested with a whole machine. Complete with manual; it was blindingly obvious these people were doing it for the first time. I also had to point out all the bunks. Those were “swabbed” with a cloth, cloth into a little bag, number on it (#1, #2, #3), and then (#1, #2, #3) was also written on the floor in chalk (with the skipper’s approval, of course).

Meanwhile the two top brass, the ones with 3 stripes let’s say, were sitting comfortably in the shade in the cockpit, with me in between, firing questions at me. Where had I been, was any of it criminal or dangerous? No, I don’t like danger. That was apparently the right answer. The other gentleman jumped straight in: was our VHF working properly? Yes, it works fine. Then I absolutely had to keep it switched on at all times and listen on channel 16! Yes sir, will do.

A good 80 minutes later they were done, and I just had to go inside for immigration. Arnold and Maarten had already been through there. The two immigration officers had set up a temporary little office, with one of those face and fingerprint scanners you see everywhere these days. Ever so friendly, and 2 minutes later I was done! Now at last I could hug Marion (and Ella) again! Tomoko was impressed; it had never gone that fast before! Off we hurried to the Italian restaurant at the marina, because we were starving. They didn’t have much Japanese food, but the pizza was fine, and the beer was from Hawaii?!

In the evening we went to eat and sleep in Hiroshima, starting with a beer at the first izakaya we came across, and oh well, might as well have a bite with it… Delicious, next round a few more bites, and before you know it you’ve put away a fair few beers and more than enough super fresh fish and snacks! The next day I spent with another lady from the agent trying to sort out nitrogen for the hydraulic cylinder (which Ella has named Linda). That’s where you run into the “other” Japan: the Japan of rules. Since I’m not a company they already do business with, the gas suppliers won’t supply any gas. Not via the agent either. Something is available through Amazon, but again with a different connector than usual and in small, expensive bottles. Eventually Marion found someone who finally responded and did see a way. It turned out this freelancer has a job in Tasmania the following week and can easily pick up the necessary connectors and hoses there! Remarkable how that (doesn’t) work here.

In the meantime we’re discovering that there’s no wind here after all, so the nitrogen can wait until the next visit. Then the Netherlands and Germany can be called in. Because in the Netherlands you just walk into a gas supplier, buy a fill, borrow a bottle, then on to a technical supplies shop that does hydraulics, buy a length of hose and have two connectors crimped on for a few tenners, and Bob’s your uncle. Except taking that gas on a plane doesn’t really work, and those little bottles have connectors we don’t have. So all our hopes are pinned on the man going to Tasmania.

The next day Marion had arranged a guide who showed us the area around the hypocentre of the atomic bomb. That was a really smart move, because along the way she took us to a bank building that had largely survived, but we would have stopped at the door ourselves, or at most had a quick look around inside. It turned out the museum was in the basement! We also visited a school building that had served as a kind of central reporting point. Back then, parents looking for their children, or the other way round, left messages all over the soot-blackened walls. All whitewashed over in the years that followed, but during a restoration it turned out there was still something to be found underneath. Moving images of people who, 50 years after the fact, still got to see a message from their mother or sister or other family member. In the end, of course, to the big museum. A real tear-jerker, naturally. The suffering was enormous, and above all afterwards too. Nobody knew what “fallout” was, so burned people with unbearable thirst opened their mouths when the black rain started falling a few hours after the bomb. Afterwards it also turned out that everyone in our group had seen something different. So one visit really isn’t enough.

After a few days in Hiroshima we said goodbye to Maarten, and now the four of us are cruising by boat through the “Seto Inland Sea”: think of the IJsselmeer, but fringed and filled with loads of islands big and small, and about the size of half the Netherlands in area. So including those islands, a lot bigger still. After Mitarai, Ohmishima and Onomishi we’ve now arrived in Nio. We look at the temples and shrines, visit museums, eat ourselves silly, and it’s just possible that we have the occasional beer as well. The rainy season has just ended here, and then it gets very hot and humid for a month. Yippee!

I’ll quickly post a few photos now and might come back to those islands next time, because the beer is calling!