Another good day

out on the Bay fishing for shirogisu.  I took a bagful – lots for the neighbours – and managed to snag a nice-sized specimen, which was 5mm off my personal best.  Inhabitants of Kyushu, where the kisu can easily grow to 30cm+, will find it very funny that I would call such a fish ’big’, but in Tokyo Bay any shirogisu over 24cm is considered a good size.  In person the largest one I have seen taken on the Bay is 26cm, and on one boathouse website I have seen a specimen measuring in at 28.5cm.

Today’s excursion makes it five fishing trips in April, which rather makes up for March when I didn’t get out to sea at all.  Next week is Japan’s infamous ‘Golden Week’ holiday season, where I have five consecutive days off work.  On Sunday I have an interesting trip lined up, so please check back then.

Specialities of Kazo

One great thing about fishing different parts of Japan, and having a little of the language, is the chance to sample the local produce.  One of my current projects is to compile a book detailing my fishing trips to every single prefecture in Japan (I have fished about a fifth so far) whilst indulging the local specialties.  Fishing for herabuna is largely game (although the more eccentric may eat them; it’s on my to do list) so without an ice chest stuffed with fish to encumber me, on my way home I wandered about in search of Kazo city’s famous udon.  The region is also well known for pork and traditional Japanese mochi-based sweets.  I bought a pack of fresh udon and also the cakes/sweets known as kashiwa-mochi and shio daifuku (the tenpura is made from fillets of cutlassfish I had to hand in my freezer).   Although I am generally sceptical of packaged ‘famous local specialties’ – many of which are adulterated, not produced with any local ingredients or made elsewhere – I have to say the udon was really quite excellent; I think I prefer this kind of thin-cut variety anyway, and the noodles themselves were genuinely tasty.  The sweets were very agreeable but they suffered from the long train ride back home, and in my opinion, one of my fishing buddies who is a confectioner here in Tokyo makes them better.

 

Back from Kazo

I am officially an ojisan…

I caught this hera at Kazo Yoshinuma.  The old lady in charge was really nice and friendly, and when I left she gave me a souvenir bucket.

土浦のマブナ

はじめてマブナを釣りました。

Harrr! Pieces of Eight &c.

When fishing on Saturday, I was most gratified by a typical springtime Tokyo Bay morning: the water eerily calm, and shrouded in a pall of white mist (this is genuine condensation, as opposed to the terrible air pollution you get in summer) that burns off during the course of the day. Well as our ship struggled past the saltwater lumber stores in Shin-Kiba – the wind was right in our faces – I thought I spotted something odd in the mist ahead of us. Now I know that the sea can play a multitude of tricks on the human mind, especially on a flat-footed landlubber like me: why I have seen boats flying above the surface of the water (sea surface mirages), heard cats, crying babies, human voices (seabirds can sometimes sound like all three) and even alarmclocks (usually a very taut line rubbing against a wooden post) while miles offshore, and encountered giant flying fish that whizz past your head, and seen whirlpools and tropical storms straight out of the Odyssey, and suchlike. Well anyway, as we chugged out of Tokyo, I spotted something in the mist ahead that looked unusual; it did not look like any of the usual traffic on the Bay such as trawlers, yachts, tugs, tankers, cargo ships or military vessels, and certainly wasn’t a buoy. To me it looked like…well as a kid I was brought up on stuff like Treasure Island, the Marie Celeste legend and the Drunken Sailor song, so to me it looked like a pirate ghost ship:

In low visibility conditions on the Bay like this, a lot of vessels drop anchor or stick close to shore and there is almost no traffic in this part of Tokyo Bay. Well this is what I saw:

きょうも釣りました

天気がよかった、春です。

おかず＋お土産十分。外道にイシモチ（キープ）と子共カレイ（リリース）。

今季気に入りの針。

Bamboo Rod Making: Slowly Getting There

After a great day out at sea on Saturday, I had a quite pleasant shirogisu dinner with the mem-sahib in the evening, then on Sunday I headed off for another session of traditional Japanese rod building.  This time was probably the hardest I have done so far, as it involved not just a lot of concentration but also a modicum of physical strength.  The joint (in this case only one) of the two parts of the rod must be sanded into shape to fit each other exactly; one over-zealous swipe with the file that takes off too much bamboo from the inner surface of the joint and the rod is ruined.  After a good few hours, and slightly detaching the nail from my right thumb, I just about managed to get the two to fit together.

The rod is slowly beginning to take shape.  The next stage is to lacquer the rest of the rod, which my teacher warns me is the hardest part yet (although he says that about every stage).  Hopefully this will be completed by next week; after the remaining bare bamboo is completely lacquered the rod is straightened once more over a fire, then the reel seat and guides are wrapped on.  In June I am chartering a shirogisu fishing boat – with tenpura lunch – with my usual fishing buddies so hopefully the rod will be complete in time for that day.

First Fishing Trip This Spring

Beautiful weather, a good shirogisu catch and I saw some interesting stuff on the Bay too (more about this later).  I picked up a bit of sun – or rather, my nose and cheeks are burnt bright-red – but all is well.  Toward the afternoon it clouded over and a southerly wind really picked up; later in the evening it rained.  Old sea hands here in Japan always say that fish bite more when the atmospheric pressure changes, and this day appeared to be a good example of that.