Reflections of Japan

While in Osaka, Jennifer Muther, Pamela Coughlin, and I were entrusted with the ships laundry -- fifteen huge sacks of crew and ship's laundry in dire need of attention. I myself was so low on clean clothes that I went scavenging in the rag bag to find a clean shirt to do laundry in. The ship's agent dropped us at a Laundromat. It was very small with only a few small washers and dryers. We knew at first sight that we were never going to make our 1:30 laundry deadline (as we had all of the crew shirts and there was an open house at 2:00), but the agent didn't know of another laundry. So we were stuck.

A little discouraged but undaunted, Pamela and Jennifer went in search of change while I set about organizing the mountain of laundry. I had just begun shuffling through bags when an older gentleman walked in with one small bag of laundry. His jaw dropped and his eyes bulged at the site of just one person and 15 huge bags of laundry. He spoke no English and I spoke no Japanese, but luckily the shirt that I recently acquired from the ragbag had a ship on it. Through the picture and lots of pointing and gesturing, I was able to convey that the laundry and I belongs to a boat. He became very excited at this and, after much gesturing, I figured out that he wanted to trade T-shirts with me. Since I had no particular attachment to the ragbag shirt, we traded. Many hand gestures later, I guessed that he was going to get a camera so he could take some photos of us. I nodded and off he went.

Only moments after my new friend left, Jennifer and Pamela returned to find me smiling and laughing over the recent exchange. After several minutes of retelling the story, the man returns with his camera. Now I was able to clear up all mysteries because our faithful translator Pamela was back on the scene. His name was Mr. Fujino and he had apparently seen us and PRIDE II that morning on TV (a TV crew had filmed us eating breakfast that day). He also told us that there was another laundry near by that was much larger and much cleaner. Jennifer and I followed him over to the new laundry, which was in fact larger and cleaner than the one we were in at the time. He then took us to his apartment so that we could borrow a push cart to move all of the laundry. He then followed us back to the first laundry and helped us move everything the two blocks over to the new Laundromat.

As we were working throughout the morning, he would stop by with small gifts of food or with visitors to chat. We were very thankful for all the help that he had given us, but the most we could do was invite him to the Open House that day. And we were glad to have him come by to see where all the laundry had come from!

It seems that buses and subways were the ultimate location of random acts of kindness. There were very few times that I didn't need to ask for help to find my way around. Many times assistance was offered to me as I looked blankly at a map. One of these times I was in Tokyo with Chris Dyer. We knew that the bus stop that would get us back to the ship was somewhere near the Kabuki Theater. Unfortunately, we had no idea where. We were looking at a map of Tokyo when a man came up to us and asked, in perfect English, where we were from. We told him our home towns, and he told us that he had spent several years along the east coast. He said that we looked lost and asked where we were going. When we told him we were looking for the bus stop, he walked us across the street, pointed it out about a block away, told us how to read the schedule, and apologized for not walking us there explaining that he was in a terrible hurry -- and going the other way.

Several of us were on our way to a folk village about a hour from Kawasaki. We were confused by one of the train system quirks, so Pamela asked a woman nearby to explain. Not only did the woman help us figure out which train we needed, but she came on the train to show us on the small map exactly which stop we needed. She counted them out for us, since we couldn't read the names of the stops. Needless to say, we arrived at the folk village without another hitch.

There are, of course, countless stories of people bringing photographs, paintings, drawings, and small gifts by the boat. One man came by for two days to paint a water color to present to the crew. All of these generous deeds were for the pure joy of the giver -- nothing was expected in return. I have seen many bumper stickers and pins in America with the slogan "Perform random acts of kindness," but it was incredible to see an entire culture living up to it. It is one of the things that I most enjoyed and admired about Japan.

KC Hinkley
Deckhand

Homeward Bound
in Chesapeake Bay

We were hired onto PRIDE II as the "Homebound" crew. And now, after six months of travel through two oceans and five countries, that word is finally starting to take meaning. It is hard to believe that, after 12,000 miles of travel, we are 150 miles from the Inner Harbor and the welcome that we have all been thinking about. Family and friends, home and familiarity that have seemed so distant are now within reach. Conversations among the crew have changed from anticipating comfort of the United States, to visiting certain bars and restaurants in Baltimore. But a little bit of sadness still lingers through the excitement of home coming over the end of such a great adventure.

It seems so clear at first that my first thoughts, especially during the holidays, should be of my family, friends, dog, house, car, neighborhood, and all of the other things that make me feel like I'm at home. But through all of my experiences, through seas and foreign lands, my three by six foot bunk seems more appealing than my own room. And the hundred foot living space that we all share sometimes feels more comfortable than my family's house. The shipmates that I've spent so much time with feel like a family.

The solitude of boat life has affected me. Hours alone on bow watch, simple pleasures like reading, watching a movie once a week, playing cards, good conversation, and frequent naps have become much more enjoyable than some of my past entertainments. Life seems much simpler and more enjoyable without television and telephone. In a society that is so fixed on being in touch and up to date, many of my friends are amazed that I often don't even know what day of the week it is, much less what is happening in the world or national news!

Now, with shore life so near, and the addition of family, friends, and all of Baltimore into our established routine, there are mixed emotions - excitement for all that is to come, and a whole lot of nostalgia and sadness for such an experience and adventure coming to a close. Soon our lives will once again be filled with telephones, newspapers, traffic and city lights. Naps will be harder to come by, and our shipboard family will begin to disperse.

So I take this opportunity, 150 miles from home, to say thank you to the crew that has made this trip so unbelievable, PRIDE II who carried us, the people who have supported us, and Neptune who has taken care of us.