"Take it easy, boy!" Mr. Higgins's voice rang out cheerfully from the cockpit, where he was keeping a firm hold on the tiller. Mrs. Higgins appeared from the cabin. She nodded to the boy, looked up at the sky, and drew close to her husband.
Mr. Higgins was a good yachtsman. The cruiser-type Sylph, which he bought soon after he and his wife had arrived in Japan, was a small boat but had sailed along the Pacific side of the country from the Inland Sea all the way north to Hokkaido. Mr. Higgins had been a member of a big yacht club in San Francisco and was proud of the club cap. When he wore the old cap pulled down over his eyes and his waterproof jacket, he took on a tense, serious look so different from his usual amiable appearance at the club house. The Higginses had no children, and they spent much of their time enjoying themselves in their red sports car or aboard their yacht. Mr. Higgins was at his most serious when at sea, giving orders to his crew or at the tiller steering a dead straight course.
The boy liked Mr. Higgins in these serious moods. While most of the foreigners who came to the harbor took their yachting lightly, spinning around the basin recklessly making merry, Mr. Higgins and his wife seemed to be really enjoying the hours aboard their boat and obviously loved the sport.
Mrs. Higgins was about ten years younger than her husband; she was petite, kind, and pretty. She had learned to sail in Japan, where she had come after her marriage, and was soon able to join the crew of the newly-built Sylph on its trips round the Japanese islands, even on the long voyage to Hokkaido.
Sometimes, when she took the helm, her husband would have to call out to warn her that she was on the wrong course. She would beg his pardon with a shrug of her shoulders and turn to the boy who was shyly delighted by her ways. At those moments she seemed like an elder sister to him.
The boy had come across the couple often at the harbor club where he worked; he had often helped with the rigging and had sometimes been hired as a member of the crew; then since the beginning of the year he had worked on the Sylph as assistant yacht boy. The Higginses liked him because he was quiet and intelligent in doing what he was told, and they were kind to him.
Although he had worked for them for about six months, he had never gone around Oshima aboard their boat.
Once or twice he had started off in the Oshima race as a crew member for various other foreigners, but they had always become fearful before the end of the race and altered course for Shimoda or Ito, where they could enjoy the hot springs instead. On these occasions, when they returned to the basin and waved their hands at the women and children on the passing pleasure-boats, the boy was filled with feelings of contempt for them. He would busy himself with the ropes or just stare out to sea, unable to accept the situation philosophically.
Consequently, to set sail for the island of Oshima was to run at a mirage which would disappear each time he got near. But on board the Sylph he was confident. He believed that they were not only going to complete the course around the island but that they were also going to win the race with ease. As they were getting ready to start, he felt that he had at last banished a fear that had long pursued him, though the warning about high winds was not at all reassuring.
To make the starting line clearer, twenty minutes before the start, a navy frigate anchored some two hundred yards to port lighted a blue light on her mast and threw a searchlight beam across the surface of the water to join a beam of light from shore.
The moment the boy saw it, he recognized a sight that he had only been aware of in tales he had heard as a child—a yacht that looked like a legendary, white-robed knight galloping at full speed on a black horse, breathing scarlet vapor from its nostrils. Then it vanished from sight. A fairy, all in white, had come out and gone away. The scarlet deck light dyed the white sails red from the foot upwards—like a young warrior fleeing wounded from the field of battle. Only the waves and the wind remained to give the vision a sense of eternity. The boy held his breath, excited, fascinated.
Another yacht suddenly came into view, lit up by the beam of light.
"Ahoy, ahoy!" the boy shouted.
At that moment yet another yacht lit up by the beam of light suddenly came into sight, cutting swiftly towards the open sea, heeling over with the wind abeam. It was the Catherine, on which his best friend, Tokiji, was working. The boy earnestly wished to be a huge white bird himself, like the yacht.
"Let's head out to sea," the boy called to Mr. Higgins.
"Okay Markie. Let's go" was the reply. Mr. Higgins jerked the tiller, and the vessel turned and inscribed a half circle of foam on the water.
When he strained his eyes he could make out the shapes of other boats, like knights in the dim distance. The waves were beating against them, their gray sails towering high and their masts leaning over in the wind. The vision of the boats on the vast dark sea made him nostalgic and sorrowful. So attached to the sea up to now, he experienced for the first time a momentary fear of a new, hitherto unsuspected world, wierd and beautiful, a world that was beyond the power of his imagination. And yet he looked forward to making the voyage into that unknown world in which he now so deeply believed.
As the Sylph headed out to sea, she suddenly cut into the ray of the searchlight, and every part of the boat was lit up brighter than day. The white sails were mirrored on the deck wet with spray. The mainsail and the stays stood out clearly, as if drawn by an architect. The sudden brightness dazzled him. For a space, there was no more darkness.
Mrs. Higgins exclaimed as a large black vessel with great sails flashed by. It passed through the light beam, then disappeared in the dark. That moment huge sails gradually came in slowly from the opposite side of the darkness.
"That's the Okichi," cried the boy.
She was a large sixty-ton, two-masted schooner, biggest of all the participants in the race. She belonged to a Mr. Arnold, the manager of one of the large American firms operating in the Far East and the donator of the trophy cup. He had bought the boat at Shimoda the previous year. She was painted a shining, bluish white. A naked goddess with red lips, white cheeks, and long black hair stood out at the bow; the name Okichi Maru was painted in green letters on the stern.
Mr. Arnold, whose nickname "Arno the Homo," was well known locally for carefully selecting the boys who worked on board. This schooner with the name of a woman housed, in strange contrast, a harem of male lovers. She looked more like a gracious and legendary castle than a knight at arms as she disappeared into the ghostly darkness.
Then the ball light at the basin flashed, followed by five red lights and the sending up of blue fireworks.
The announcement, "Five minutes to go before the start!" was repeated. The fireworks went up at one-minute intervals, and the red lights were extinguished one by one. Mr. Higgins continued on the course he had set. When he turned the boat towards the starting line, having tacked it at one corner of the creek, the fourth light died out, and just as he sped into the line of the searchlight beam, the scarlet fireworks shot skywards. It was a fine piece of timing.
"Well, here goes!" said the boy in great excitement.
"Just now, start! No flying! Okay. All fair, no recalling boats!"
"Good luck! Goodbye!"
The order at the start was: Sylph, Toridon, Catherine, Saffron, Gay, Kaio Maru, Emiko, Splutter, and Neptune. There were others, but the boy could not make them all out on account of the darkness.
They were soon beyond the basin and out at sea where the waves were high. The shore lights seemed far away. The Sylph was in the lead. The boats had all extinguished their cabin lights in order to conceal their courses—all but the Okichi, who with her cabin now brilliantly lit up was very beautiful.
"Arnold probably wears his dark glasses at night, too," the boy said laughing to himself. For him, all was enjoyment.
As they left the bay and the high mountains surrounding it behind, the stars seemed to light up the sea. The whitecaps sparkled in the rays of the deck light.
For the rest of the night it was merely
a question of keeping on course. Not another boat could be seen anywhere.
Just before dawn the following morning the boy was awakened to take his turn at the tiller. He found the island of Oshima lying ahead, its volcano summit a purple-red in the dawning light. Strangely, it seemed to be awaiting their arrival.
The strong south wind of the previous night had dropped and was replaced by an easterly blowing in from the Pacific through the Boso Peninsula. Each wind seemed to bring with it a special atmosphere. After the wet southerly wind, the easterly was cool and pleasant to the boy.
With a new and favorable wind in the sail, the boy put up the spinnaker. It had been sewn up with fine thread so that it would not be too heavy. If a heavy sail were to fall into the water, its weight pulling the boom under too, the vessel would tip so far that it would capsize.
The boy pulled at the ropes and felt the mass of white sails rise and billow out like parachutes. For a moment the rope in his hand was so strained that he almost lost control; but he did not, and the boat sped forward swiftly.
Both the sea and the sky were bright as if awaiting the sun's rays. Then far away on the eastern horizon the scarlet ball rose. The boy watched it grow larger and climb into the sky bringing daylight to the blue May morning.
The Sylph passed the Gay and Kaio Maru in swift succession. The Kaio Maru was manned by devil-may-care students who walked about stark naked. They cheered in unison at Mrs. Higgins who came out of the cabin just when the Sylph sped by them. Their loin cloths hanging from the stay were bright scarlet.
Oshima grew bigger, and the islands of Toshima, Udoneshima, and Niijima could be seen on the left in the far distance. As the boat drew still nearer, around the greenery-covered volcanic peak the boy could make out a ring of smoke. The mountain had erupted several times lately and a faint string of smoke was still rising. White stripes scattered here and there along the water might have been a narrow strip of beach—white waves washing the deserted shore. He saw an observatory and cattle grazing in the fields, here and there he glimpsed red, yellow, and white flowers in the grass.
By midday they had passed Port Habu and had reached a spot off the village of Sashikiji. The weakening east wind finally died away altogether, and the yacht sat calm and idle, subject to the whim of the gently rolling sea.
The boy could make out the shape of the rocks on the sea floor some twelve meters below and could see the shadow of the sails sweeping over them. Then all of a sudden the boat drifted towards a dark green abyss and the shadows of the sails disappeared as if swallowed up by the depths.
He lay down on his stomach in the sun on the folded white spinnaker, holding the canvas tightly in his arms, enjoying the smell of the sea and the rough feeling of the canvas.
He soon fell asleep and did not wake until six o'clock. The boat had scarcely moved. Mrs. Higgins was sketching the island with pastel crayons. Her husband watched her drawing, chuckling happily and disturbing her from time to time. At last she tried to push his hands away as he came towards her, but laughing, he kept them held out. Then smiling, she slapped them and drew them to her. Tottering slightly on the deck, he moved closer, put his arms around her, and kissed her passionately. The boy closed his eyes again, feeling he had had a glimpse of something not for him to see.
A little after four o'clock, the south wind began to blow at last. It was a soft southern breeze. Way off to the northeast the Saffron and the Falcon had hoisted sails again and started moving.
Off Motomura a liner passed, leaving behind a trail of colored wads and scraps of paper and orange skins, reminding the boy strangely of the city life he had left behind and towards which he was again heading.
Summer came and the harbor people became busier. When there was no work aboard the Higginses' boat during the summer vacation, the boy took on various other jobs. He saved most of his earnings for his boat as planned, and when the money did not come in, he was miserable. At the same time he became more and more determined in his plan. He even asked for tips from the people he worked for and tried to negotiate a wage raise from Mr. Matsukawa, the harbormaster.
"What are you talking about? A kid like you doesn't know how to use money even when he's got it!" was Matsukawa's reply. However, Matsukawa was finally won over by the boy's seriousness and gave him a raise, a small one.
Another way the boy contrived to make money involved deception. He would "skipper" yachts hired by people who could not sail themselves, making them enjoy the trip so much that they forgot how long they had been out. They would pay for the extra time out, but the boy would report a shorter time to the harbormaster, or else apologize for being careless about watching the clock. He made as much money as he could in this way without arousing Mr. Matsukawa's suspicions.
Then one summer afternoon the boy went on board the Sylph to pick up something he had left behind. On the boat moored alongside he saw a man in bathing trunks standing, relieving himself over the stern. Waves caused by a rushing motorboat pushed the two adjoining yachts nearer. Some urine splashed against the Sylph. The waves pushed the two boats apart again, but the man kept on, now even inclining his hips forward, aiming at the Sylph.
"What the hell are you doing?" the boy shouted angrily.
The man turned away, pretending not to notice the boy. The boy then came up on deck and continued to shout and call the man names.
"Ah, shut up," the man shouted back. "It's nothing serious . . . . You're making a lot of fuss about something that happens at sea all the time."
"Often happens! Listen you . . . just come over here and I'll teach you what sort of things the boats are. If a woman even steps across the mast when we're in port, we have to hold a purification ceremony, so why should I keep quiet when you piss all over the boat?"
"Hey kid, don't get smart. You own the boat or something?"
"Never mind, that's not your business. I'm in charge, that's enough!"
"In charge! Huh!" The man laughed at the boy's self-confidence.
"Who d'you think you're laughing at?"
The boy jumped across to the deck of the other boat, which lurched at the sudden movement. The boat rocked wildly with his weight. The boy pushed the man, making him lose his balance, and he fell, scratching wildly at the air, into the water. When he rose to the surface, the boy plunged in after him and pushed him under the water again. Each time he came up, the boy, who was used to diving from rescue work in capsized vessels, pushed him under and did not let him go until he rose up to the surface pale and vomiting. The boy caught him by the shoulder, pulled him over to the side of the boat, and gave him the mooring rope to hang on to.
"This is what you get when you talk big. Do you understand, or do you want me to explain more?"
The boy took out a small knife that he carried in his belt; the man shook his head weakly.
No one in the port had noticed the incident. If anyone had, he would have thought that the two had simply dived in for a dip to get cool.
The boy looked triumphant.
"Don't forget, if you're thinking of getting back at us harbor people, we don't fool around. And if they get to know about you, you'll just go through this again! You summer sailors putting on airs!"
"I'm sorry . . . I didn't think."
"It's no good saying you're sorry, not unless you want to go to the harbormaster and apologize. He might be kinder to you."
"That's not necessary, is it now?"
The man went to get his trousers from the cockpit. He took some change from one of the pockets.
"C'mon cheapskate! Who'd take that!"
The man gazed at the boy's face and the knife in his hand.
"Let this settle it then," he said, handing the boy a thousand yen note.
"Okay, if you insist, I'll take it, but you'd better get going—someone might have seen us," said the boy laughing.
The boy added the money to his savings. He couldn't get over his unexpected windfall.
The summer ended, and, except for those that al
ways remained in the water, the yachts were taken into the boat houses for the winter. There was little work for such as the boy, but he came regularly to the harbor on weekends all the same. A high school boy could not find better work. In the autumn he worked aboard Mr. Higgins's yacht and took part in any races that were held.
Mr. Higgins seemed worried about his schooling. "How's school, Markie?" he would say when the boy appeared on weekends.
"It's all right," was his regular answer. But it made him happy, because Mr. Higgins was the only person who worried about him.
After his mother's death when he was very young, the boy had been brought up by the old housekeeper. His elder brother was a student at Kyoto University and hardly ever came up to Tokyo during the vacations. After demobilization, his father, who had been a naval captain when the war ended, started a business that soon came to nothing. The result was that he had remained jobless ever since, leaving the boy to his own devices.
Still leading a jobless life, he went around with his old friends one after another, not interfering in what the boy did. He had a somewhat guilty conscience about this son because the boy's expenses did not come up to his brother's since the boy worked for his pocket money himself. The boy sometimes saw his father coming home at night, but at these times the father was quite indifferent to him, less intimate than the old housekeeper. At school the boy had few friends. One might say he was more mature than any of his classmates since most of the people he had come across were grown men who worked in the harbor. Of those at the harbor, only Tokiji, who was his same age, was a close friend, and he was even closer than his own brother in Kyoto.
One hot weekend in autumn, the two of them went out fishing near Enoshima.
As they were sailing back to the harbor in the evening they saw a graceful, silver-colored yacht at anchor, aglitter in the evening sun. It was beautiful, about forty tons, with everything silver-colored except the mast, deck, and cabins. The boys sailed past the shining boat. Two young couples were lying on deck in bathing suits. A middle-aged couple came out of a cabin, the man carrying a dog.
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