August in Atsunai

It is coming up to two full weeks since I arrived at Atsunai. I explained in a previous post that it was a struggle to reach the village. But that was nothing! Leaving is the real challenge...

Fortunately, although foggy, Atsunai is a pleasant hamlet. It has a railway station (unmanned) which connects it to bigger places such as Kushiro city, where I successfully extended my permission to be in Atsunai (also applies to the rest of Japan).

On my evening return from that (trouble-free) mission I was the only passenger on the single-coach train. I fell asleep in my carriage, and would have missed my stop were it not for the kind and conscientious train driver, who needed some convincing to leave me at my new home.

Atsunai also has a shop (which receives only infrequent re-supply but is nonetheless a boon), a post office (the biggest employer in the village, as far as I can tell), a fire station (no observed activity, not surprising given that the local climate is basically a sprinkler system), and a police station (trying to avoid those). For a complete inventory add two toilets, two vending machines, and - of course - a harbour.

Trout frequent the harbour and leap about, and sometimes headbutt the fishing craft, and occasionally are caught by fisherman with rod and line.

On the morning after one of the wetter nights a local fisherman told me to hop in his truck. He drove me a place to stay. It is a humble but comfortable abode and I am extremely grateful for the luxury of a roof, and a sleeping bag that is once again dry.

Conditions for moving-on continue to be elusive. Over the weekend a named typhoon (Maria) hurled a three-metre swell this way. It was obvious that those days would be unsailable, so rather than hunker down I caught a train or three and went for a haircut in Hakodate. While there, not-incidentally, I also met up with Yumiko, and it is time to say that she has become part of this voyage also.

Subplots aside, today in Atsunai there was a bit more breeze and I went afloat in the fog and the waves. After an hour of sailing upwind, blind, I reached a fishing net that was stretched taught like a cable. I followed it out to sea until finding a flag that marked its outer limit. At this distance offshore there was less wind and more current. Supporting a lifeless rig on a pulsing ocean is awkward, and when I dropped the sail that was an opportunity to properly consider options with reference to the navigation app on my phone. Even if conditions hold, I would still need another 14 hours to reach the next port. With an overhead-sized short period swell, paddling conditions would have been all but impossible. In the time required to take a pee I had slipped back another hundred metres. Rather than trap myself on the wrong side of the net it was the moment to call time on the attempt.

I am now back at my little home. If I am to paddle, then I need a day with smaller swell and better visibility. Such a day would make an inshore route possible (inside the nets and escaping the strongest current). If I am to sail, then I need wind (reliable or favourable, and preferably both). At least today I demonstrated to myself that it is not just an aversion to the fog that has me blockaded. It was unpleasant being out there today, but I would have continued had it been a sensible gamble to do so. Also, I learned where the first net has its seaward end, so that is a piece of useful information for next time.

There is another typhoon coming, and after that my chance might arrive. Japanese encouragement comes in two forms: I am urged to "be safe," and I am urged to "fight!" I will keep both in mind!