KUSHIRO. BRIEFLY

10th - 13th Oct 2019

Days 11 to 14

Sea State: A bit rocky on night of 12th, otherwise calm. We had been advised that a 'super-typhoon', Hagibis, was forming south-east of Japan.

The Oirish Bear (Irish Bar) I was planning to visit.

We docked in Kushiro port at the north-eastern end of the northern island of Hokkaido at 6.00am and were expecting to go ashore from 8.00am onwards. We were given 'colour coded numbers' for an order of disembarkation.  After a leisurely breakfast it sounded as if it was slow going getting people through the immigration process via a team of Japanese customs officials operating computers set up on the main theatre stage. To cut a long story short I did not get off the ship until 12.15pm, and we had to be back on board by 4.30pm. There was a local reception committee to greet us on the quayside and give us things (sweet alcohol-free sake....yuck) before we were bused (20 mins) to Fisherman's Wharf, downtown Kushiro. This wharf had an indoor shopping 'mall' and was of no real interest. Indeed  I was aware that Kushiro town had nothing of great interest to offer...it is a port and staging post for those visiting the rugged hinterland of Hokkaido (hikers, trekkers, skiers, bird-watchers etc.). So, I went off tappy-lappy to find the 'Coy' Irish Pub. I found it, not far from the wharf, and it was closed. Didn't open until 5.00pm. Bugger. At least the weather was nice.

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Left: It might have been a decent watering hole and obviously sold Guinness. I doubt whether I will ever get the opportunity to find out.

Right: By chance I found a charming little bar/café nearby called Café Coron. 

Left: A few of our ship's complement had also discovered it. It served beer at reasonable prices, and I even convinced the lady behind the counter to rustle up some chips, courtesy of photos on the internet. which she did. They were very obliging and smiley.

There was an excellent internet service here and I managed to catch up with much domestic correspondence. I was also tempted to book some accommodation in Yokohama for the night of 13th while I had the chance, but I didn't; fortuitously as it happened.

The last bus was due to leave Fisherman's Quay at 4.00pm so I got there in what I thought was good time at 3.30pm. A lot of others had had the same idea! Long queue (right).

In fact there was a non-stop stream of buses and I think everyone was back by 5.00pm.

Left: There was a group of locals, including a guitarist, enthusiastically waving us on our way with torches (it was getting dark). I suspect for some dockyard locals, especially the children, the arrival and departure of a cruise ship is a significant event in their lives.

We were informed by the Captain that there had been much discussion between ship and shore as to future plans regarding the typhoon. The plan decided on was now to abort calling in at Hakodate tomorrow, and instead of routing down the east coast to Yokohama into the path of the typhoon we were going to go down the sheltered west coast of Japan and either cut across via the Kanmon Straits (between the southerly two islands) or even go the whole way around the southern tip before going back north up the east coast behind the typhoon. Of course that sounded eminently sensible...but I had secretly hoped that we might get stuck in a good old typhoon to give me something interesting to write about. If that had been the case I dread to think of the carnage involving multiple wheelchairs and Zimmer-frames, but it would have amused me. I think. This plan would mean that we would arrive a day late in Yokohama on Monday the 14th. I was much relieved that I hadn't booked any accom for the 13th! Flying by the seat of one's pants with nothing planned in advance, as I often do, has its advantages,

The next morning, Friday 11th, the Skipper (right) gave two presentations on the theatre stage to 'full houses' explaining what was being done in the interests of the safety of the ship and all aboard her. It was well received as far as I could tell. Various media reports had done enough to scare the pants off any possible dissenting voices. The original and proposed routes were displayed on the screen. Click on if you wish to enlarge.

Talking of wheelchairs and walking aids; I have identified several species on this ship that range from sticks, to Zimmer-frames to, what I think are caller, 'Rollators' (left), to wheelchairs of all kinds and complexity. I mustn't mock; I will probably end up using similar.

Right: These were left parked all over the place.

They could have had races, in various categories, around the deck which would have provided good spectator sport...and probably a lot of cheating. And casualties.

Left: A top-of-the-range model.

Our passage down the west coast was uneventful and the weather a bit overcast, with calm seas.

Right: Our position on Saturday 12th, the day England were due to play France at rugby. We were just about to enter the Kanmon Straits. There is a wind restriction of 20kts on this passage and it was OK to go! We were informed that the 'pilot' for this passage had been picked up. I thought for one minute that we were going to take-off!

Slightly annoying that they haven't shown any rugby on the ship's many TVs. It's all American Football, Rounders, Netball and Ice Hockey to cater for the predominantly American audience. Why can't they learn to appreciate proper sports! It's the World Cup Rugby for goodness sake (OK, the USA have a crap team).

Left: Into the Straits which at least gave us passengers something to look at as we wended our way through some fairly narrow parts. Apparently it is not often that cruise ships navigate this route.

Right: Some passing shipping. It was busy with various types of ships...no doubt using the same typhoon-dodging route as us.

Left: Under the Kanmon Bridge......

.....with seemingly little headroom.

The daily entertainments programme continued apace. I went to an interesting talk by a 'memory expert' who passed on various techniques of how to remember vast quantities of stuff. He could memorise the sequence of a pack of playing cards in 13 seconds.  Trouble is I have forgotten them. 

Left: These two pianists/singers performed regularly, as a duet, in the Billboard bar. They were brilliant with a vast repertoire of all sorts of pop and jazz type tunes and songs.

...as was a startlingly good Japanese classical pianist of international repute, Tomono Kawamura, who gave a concert on Sunday, the final evening. These cruise organisations go out of their way to attract some very talented musicians.

One 'activity' which seemed to occur daily mid-afternoon was 'Friends of Bill W Meet' in the King's Room, a secluded little room near the dining room, on deck 2 (right). My curiosity got the better of me. Who was this Bill W (and his friends)? I went along to investigate and met an old Irishman going in. He explained that it was an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Perhaps I should have stayed, but it clashed with the start of Happy Hour.

Left: Our continued routing up the east coast on Sunday. We never saw any signs of the typhoon or, indeed, experienced any heavy weather. It was slightly rocky on Saturday night when leaving the Straits, but that was about it. I think the typhoon was way further up north and dissipating. The Cap'n had chosen a very sensible, if unexciting (but interesting), route. He told us that he had been in several hurricanes and typhoons in his 35 years at sea and did not wish to repeat the experience.

Right: In fact Sunday (13th) was a gloriously sunny, cloudless, calm and warm day which resulted in lots of people sunbathing (not me I hasten to add).

One persistent complaint I have concerns bedroom lighting in hotels (and I've been in a few), and the cabins (sorry, state-rooms) on this ship were no exception. If you wake up, a bit woozy and disorientated, in urgent need of a pee in the middle of the night in total darkness it is near impossible to locate a light switch. The switches in my cabin were carefully hidden somewhere behind the bed. In total darkness you thrash around in vain causing Cat 5 damage to anything within arm's reach, often knocking over a bedside glass of water which spills over you and the bed and then smashes on the floor. Now, still in darkness, you are forced to stumble towards where you think the loo is, soaking wet, probably lacerating your feet on broken glass, causing further collateral damage and painfully stubbing your toe in the process. Why on earth can they not equip at least one bedside switch with a permanent gentle illumination? It sounds so bleedin' obvious. Am I missing something here?

Last night at sea. We are due to dock in Yokohama early morning tomorrow.

PS. As I was packing my case this evening I discovered a stowaway! The Return of The Rat.