Follow the sea
The air is hot and heavy in the packed train car leaving Tokyo.
As the trolley continues its melodic movement south from Kamakura to Enoshima I wonder at the sights of a place foreign to me. Out the window I see the spaces between the buildings create little fragments of the horizon.
I begin to see hints of blue flashing by. As the buildings become more sparse I catch small glimpses of frothy white crests nestled in the empty spaces.
The train lurches around a corner and the scene that comes into view unexpectedly erupts into a visceral feeling.
As I stared out the window, into the ocean, my mind slowly grasps the realization that I had just seen the ocean for the first time in my 30 years of life. My body could not contain the emotion I am feeling as it sinks in that I will never relive this moment.
The tears begin to sting my eyes and I realize the closeness of all the strangers that surround me, the surprise of blue-green waves that instantly carved a place in my heart and the heat that stifled my breath as it hitched at the first glimpse of ocean to horizon. It is a tiny blip in time that I will never forget.
Seeing the ocean is one thing. But being afloat is a completely different story.
I left Tokyo behind to travel on to Iwaki and to more new experiences and new stories. Fishermen are part of the beat at our new destination and I have a date with some boats and the ocean. At 8:00 a.m. sharp I strap on my fashionable orange life jacket and get ready to board the boat, fishing boat that is.
The fishing boat carries me out to sea in an exhibition of speed as if in a competition with the other members of the small fleet, the keel rising out of the waves as the engine gains another knot. The wind carries the smell of the water and the birds gather on the surface, a sure sign of fish below.
There's a demonstration boat along side and it begins to let loose its net as it nimbly forms a circle trapping the fish within the carefully lain web. I look on from my perch at the bow, and several minutes later the demo boat fires up the winch and begins to pull the net from the salty water.
The sea birds gather at the opportunity for a free meal and my excitement rises as the bottom of the net nears the surface. The fishermen pull the net free. Without understanding the words, I can gather from the expression forming on our guide's face that they have made a good catch; after all laughter is the same in any language.
The three small ships head back to the dock at breakneck speed as we turn our sights toward port. The captain gracefully maneuvers the vessel to dock, the demo boat unloads. The fishermen load baskets with their catch - sardines. The fish are offered straight from the water and though I don’t usually enjoy fish they fill my mouth with the taste of ocean.
I have experienced so many firsts in my time in Japan, like experiencing a community festival, seeing the great Daibutsu, and meeting new friends at hostels. However, the memories I hold most dear are of the ocean and the people who ride its waves and love the blue-green water just as I have discovered I do.