Shipwrecks Read online

  ‘The village chief has asked me to take over. I’ll give the orders from now. Calm down and do as I say. First of all, we need lookouts. Gonsuke!’ A man with one arm stepped towards the cauldrons.

  ‘As always, you’re in charge of lookouts. I want them on Tide and Crow Points. And don’t miss a thing!’ said the old man, drilling Gonsuke with a steely look. Gonsuke bowed, turned to the villagers, and said, ‘Kinta, help us this time, too.’ A small man emerged from the crowd and stood beside Gonsuke.

  ‘Sahei, Isaku, you’ve got young eyes. Go on lookout with Gonsuke and Kinta,’ the elder said.

  Isaku was not only disappointed at being assigned a job not involving the disposal of the wrecked ship, but also annoyed because he very much wanted to see what the villagers did with the long-awaited O-fune-sama. He followed Sahei over toward Gonsuke.

  ‘Right, let’s get going. Get as much rope as you can. Also axes, mattocks, and mallets.’ At this the villagers hurried up the slope back to their houses. As though girding himself for action, the old man took a handkerchief from his belt and wrapped it round his head.

  Gonsuke explained the role of lookout to Isaku and Sahei. At sea there would be two types of ships passing, those that sailed in deep water and those that hugged the coastline. If the people aboard the latter were to see them disposing of O-fune-sama, the villagers would be severely punished for plundering the cargo. The lookouts were to keep watch from the promontories jutting out into the sea. If they spotted a ship, they were to use a signal fire as a warning, and the village chief would immediately stop the work dismantling the ship.

  ‘I was chosen because I’m long-sighted. Kinta’s got good eyes, too. It’s an important job. You’ve got to keep your eyes peeled, too,’ said Gonsuke. Kinta and Sahei would go on lookout on Tide Point to the west, and Gonsuke and Isaku on Crow Point to the east.

  With daybreak came the first signs of sun rising behind the snow-covered mountains to the rear of the village. The wind had died, but there was still a considerable swell on the sea. The ship was now clearly visible, its broad rudder smashed in half, and the railings on the starboard side must have been blasted clean off the deck by the force of the waves. Two men could be seen sitting beside the mast, their hands together in prayer as they looked toward the shore.

  Isaku did as Gonsuke ordered and ran back to his house, put some roasted beans into a bag, and tied it to his belt. His mother must have been at the village chief’s house because there was no sign of her or his little sister.

  He slipped a hatchet under his waistband and hurried out of the house up the path, where he met Gonsuke waiting with an axe over his shoulder at the start of the mountain trail. The two of them followed the trail through the deep snow before climbing up a rocky slope. The farther they climbed, the more clearly they could hear the cawing of crows and they saw birds resting their wings in the treetops. Gonsuke was fleet of foot, and Isaku sweated profusely as he tried to keep up.

  Soon they reached the top of the promontory. This was the first time Isaku had set foot there. Gonsuke ploughed his way through the snow, threading a path ahead between the low trees. Down below they could hear the thunderous waves breaking on the rocks.

  The wooded part of the point came to an end, and they stepped out into a flat, open area. They stood at the very tip of the cape, looking down to the left at the village and across the bay. They could see the water seething white round the reef, and they had a clear view of the wrecked ship. It was an excellent spot to post a lookout. Across the bay was Tide Point, also covered in snow, jutting out into the sea. Isaku imagined Sahei hurrying with Kinta towards its tip.

  ‘Get some dead trees and branches together,’ Gonsuke said hurriedly.

  Isaku followed the man back into the trees, then started dragging out dead pieces of wood and carrying bundles of dry branches. Gonsuke meanwhile used his hatchet to strip pieces of bark from treetrunks.

  Gonsuke lit a fire, adding some dry branches to the pile once the wood caught alight. Isaku worked with the axe, cutting up branches.

  ‘If you put snow on these pieces of bark and then put them on the fire, it works as a smoke signal. You keep watch,’ said Gonsuke.

  The sea glistened in the sunlight; not a bird could be seen in the clear sky. Isaku flinched from the cold wind off the water and moved to the fire, keeping his eyes on the sea.

  ‘They’ve started,’ said Gonsuke. Isaku looked down at the bay. He could see many small boats setting off from the shore towards the wrecked ship. There was a crowd on the beach.

  ‘Keep your eyes out to sea,’ barked Gonsuke, but he, too, was looking down into the bay. The fleet of small boats converged on the stranded ship, eventually surrounding it just like a horde of ants round a caterpillar. Several boats drew up alongside the ship, and he could see people climbing on board. He thought that no doubt they would be screaming at the ship’s crew, but the sunbathed cove felt eerily tranquil.

  The boats stayed round the ship for some time before starting to ferry what seemed to be cargo from the ship’s deck back to shore. This activity grew more and more hectic as the little boats plied to and fro between the ship and the shore.

  The lifeless sails were removed and the mast was cut down and dropped into the sea, throwing up a sheet of spray as it hit the water. One of the boats worked its way to the floating mast and proceeded to tow it to shore. The cargo was stacked up on the beach and looked very much like straw bales of rice.

  Feeling hungry, Isaku started eating some of the roasted beans he had in his bag.

  ‘There’s quite a bit of cargo there. That’s some haul,’ said Gonsuke, his voice trembling as he looked down on the bay.

  ‘Is this more than O-fune-sama in the past?’ asked Isaku.

  ‘There have been bigger ships, but this amount of cargo’s unusual. There’s a lot on the beach, and there’s still more to come off the ship.’ Gonsuke’s eyes glistened with excitement.

  Gonsuke undoubtedly knew what he was talking about, since he had been on lookout each time O-fune-sama had come. Isaku felt excitement welling up inside him at the very thought of the exceptional amount of cargo. ‘What do you think could be on board?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, first of all, there could be rice, then maybe things like beans, cloth, pottery, tobacco, writing-paper, oil and sugar. Once there was even a ship carrying twenty casks of wine,’ he said, baring his chipped teeth in a grin.

  The ship must have been eventually emptied of cargo around the time the sun began to set. The boats became less active, and the villagers started to carry everything off the beach up to the chief’s house.

  The snow on the mountains looming behind the village took on a purple tinge before giving way to the night. Down on the beach the light of the fire suddenly glimmered, and the village sank into darkness.

  Isaku helped Gonsuke dig a hole in the deep snow that had built up behind a large rock, lining the inside with dry leaves and grass. After they had criss-crossed sticks over the top of the hole and placed bark on top, they climbed in and lay down back to back.

  There was a wicked chill in the air, but inside the hole it gradually became warmer. Gonsuke started to snore.

  Isaku lay in the dark, his eyes wide open. By all accounts the village chief would order the bounty from O-fune-sama to be distributed fairly to each household, according to the number of people in each family. With the bulk of the cargo undoubtedly being bales of rice, Isaku was beside himself with joy at the thought of partaking of such a delicacy. His younger brother and sister had never tasted rice, and he imagined the luxury of serving them rice gruel. He could just picture how the delectably sweet taste of the white gruel would astonish them.

  Gonsuke was certainly right about the large haul, and naturally this meant that each family could look forward to receiving a generous amount of food and other items. With the saury not selling and a poor catch of autumn octopus allowing them to buy only a pitiful amount of grain, the coming of O-fune-sama was noth
ing less than deliverance from the fear of starvation. If managed properly, the bounty would last them two or even three years. There would be no need for them to sell themselves into bondage, and no doubt they would be able to lead quiet, peaceful lives for some time to come. Tami would stay with her family, and Takichi would continue to spend his days as a fisherman and a father to his child.

  Isaku put his hand over his heart. The coming of O-fune-sama was due to divine intercession, and Isaku wanted to offer a prayer of gratitude from the bottom of his heart.

  The sound of the waves breaking at the foot of the promontory seemed to reverberate from the earth’s very core. Before he knew it he was asleep.

  He woke up to find a hand shaking his shoulder.

  Gonsuke reached up and pushed aside the branches and bark covering the hole. Isaku felt a sudden rush of cold air. There were still stars in the night sky, but they were losing their brightness.

  Isaku crawled out of the hole. Gonsuke was blowing life into the dying embers of the fire, and in no time he had the dry branches crackling.

  Isaku warmed himself by the fire and looked out to sea. As daybreak drew near, the sea was calm. Down in the bay, work had already started; he could see what must have been flaming torches set up in the boats moving on the water, as well as on the stranded ship.

  Gonsuke cooked two salted saury in the fire, handing one to Isaku. Fat oozed out of the hot fish, and as he ate it with the roasted beans the saltiness of the saury was neutralised, producing an incredibly delicious taste.

  Daybreak came, and the sea was bathed in morning sunlight. Splashes of spray shot up again and again round the stranded ship as pieces of timber and planks were thrown overboard.

  ‘Looks like they’re taking O-fune-sama apart,’ said Isaku, straining his eyes to see what was happening.

  ‘That’s because she’s made of good-quality timber. Can be used for anything. There are nails and hinges to be had there, too. And all the pots and pans down in the galley, not to mention the knives, buckets and rice tubs. Sometimes there are even cabinets or chests,’ said Gonsuke enthusiastically.

  Now Isaku understood why the elder in charge had got them to prepare saws, axes and mallets. The ship was being taken apart and the timber dropped into the water.

  The boats were towing it to the shore, where it was pulled up on the beach. From there it was carried into the woods behind the village.

  Isaku and Gonsuke cast their eyes across the sea: no sign of any passing vessels. Off to the east, they could now see scores of seabirds dancing in the air like snowflakes, with the reflections off a school of fish breaking the surface of the sea below them. No smoke was to be seen over the other side of the bay, either, on Tide Point.

  Two small boats started to move away from the ship in the direction of the promontory where Isaku and Gonsuke were standing.

  ‘They’re taking the bodies away,’ said Gonsuke.

  Isaku looked over. He could clearly see something covered with straw matting in the bottom of the boats. Eventually, the boats started to disappear from sight, one after another, down at the foot of the cape.

  The tumult around the ship showed no signs of stopping, and the vessel soon lost all semblance of its original shape. Work was progressing at a brisk pace, and already the part of the stern that held the smashed rudder had disappeared. He could see a boat carrying away the sailcloth.

  Just after the Hour of the Horse, the only part left on the rocks was the bottom of the hull. There were also people actually standing on the reef as they worked on the boat with astonishing speed.

  When the timber from what seemed to be bunks had been towed away, all that was left floating on the water was pieces of the keel. When these were pulled up onto the shore, the last trace of the ship disappeared from the rocky bay, leaving nothing but the placid sea.

  ‘Have you ever seen a ship heading this way when you’ve been on lookout?’ asked Isaku, seeming to lose interest in the task at hand.

  ‘Yeah, I have. Two in one day,’ said Gonsuke, scanning the sea.

  A plume of smoke rose into the air.

  ‘That’s the signal that they’ve finished. That’s it for us, too,’ said Gonsuke, throwing snow on the fire. ‘Let’s go and have a look at what they’ve got. Looks like a fair-sized haul all right,’ he added, swinging his axe up onto his shoulder.

  Isaku followed Gonsuke into the woods, weaving his way between the trees as he scampered to keep up with Gonsuke’s fast clip. Exhilarated, he felt as if he were walking on air. No doubt his mother and Isokichi had worked through the day with the other villagers.

  He wanted to join the frenzied excitement in the village as quickly as he could. When they reached the mountain path, Gonsuke, axe on his back, broke into a trot, with Isaku close behind, impatient to see the bounty O-fune-sama had brought.

  Coming out of the trees they could see the shore down to the right. They expected to see the villagers dancing madly, but instead they all stood stock-still by the water’s edge. Taken aback, Isaku broke stride for a second, but Gonsuke ran on unperturbed down the slope so he followed him.

  Gonsuke left the path and stepped onto the beach. Breathing hard, Isaku walked over to the gathering.

  The villagers were standing around their chief, palms pressed together as they faced out to sea. Isaku understood that they were offering prayers of gratitude for the bounty bestowed on them by the sea. When the village chief finished praying, the elder standing beside him turned to the people and in a spirited voice said, ‘Well done. Your hard work has made your chief happy. Now go home and spend the rest of the day praying to your ancestors. The bounty from O-fune-sama will be apportioned tomorrow morning.’

  The chief left the water’s edge, followed by the villagers, no one saying a word, the glint in their eyes and their beaming smiles telling all. Prodded by Gonsuke, Isaku took a step in front of the elder. The old man was satisfied when Gonsuke reported that there had been no signs of ships approaching. Isaku bowed deeply and walked to his house.

  When Isaku pushed his way past the straw matting hanging at the doorway, his mother turned to look at him as she prayed in front of the ihai, their ancestral tablet. She looked completely different, her face flushed with happiness, the corners of her mouth turned up in a way that Isaku had never seen before.

  He stepped onto the floor, pressed his palms together in front of the ancestral tablet, and sat down by the fireside. Feeling another wave of joy, he wanted to jump up and dance around the room.

  The sun had begun to go down and the temperature was falling. His mother started heating a pot of water with buckwheat seeds, then brought some salted saury over to the fireside. Obviously the makings of a meal much more generous than usual.

  ‘What was on O-fune-sama?’ Isaku asked his mother.

  ‘Rice, and lots of it,’ his mother said, enunciating each word for effect.

  ‘What else?’

  ‘There was cotton and rapeseed oil, too. Wax, tea, wine and soy sauce, vinegar and matting. But the rice … This O-fune-sama was a rice ship,’ said his mother excitedly.

  What a great day it is, Isaku thought. It was a joy to see his mother so talkative, and he felt her happiness affecting not only him but his brother and sister as well; they sat, smiling, beside him. When the buckwheat seeds started to dance in the hot water, his mother added some vegetables and seaweed. The room grew dark, and their faces gleamed red in the light from the flames. Smoke started to float up from the skewered saury around the fire. His mother filled their bowls from the pot one by one, Isaku first, next his brother, and then his sister, before serving herself.

  Isaku nibbled a saury and sipped away at the vegetable porridge. The next day the rice would be distributed, and he was elated at the thought of his brother and sister’s first taste of rice gruel.

  ‘Just another year and a bit more now,’ whispered his mother as she picked up her bowl. Isaku looked at her, wondering what she meant, but soon realised from the gleam
in her eyes that she was thinking of his father. He had gone into bondage for a three-year term, which would be up around the time the snow melted the year after next. Some of the bounty from O-fune-sama would undoubtedly still be left, which would take a load off his father’s mind. If they had been starving, his father might even have considered selling himself into bondage once again; but now such fears were gone.

  His mother dished out another serving of vegetable porridge for his brother and sister, a relaxed expression on her face as she manipulated her chopsticks. Shortly after finishing the meal, his little sister started to nod off, so his mother picked her up and carried her to the straw bedding. His brother lay down in the corner of the room.

  ‘How many dead bodies were there?’ asked Isaku, remembering the two little boats he had seen from his observation post on the cape.

  His mother looked up as she sipped her cup of hot water.

  ‘Three fell overboard and drowned. There were four people left on the ship, counting the injured men, but they were all killed,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Did they resist at all?’ asked Isaku as he watched his mother’s face by the light of the fire.

  ‘I heard they didn’t do a thing, just pleaded for their lives,’ said his mother in a toneless voice.

  Most likely the crew had cut off their topknots as they sought divine protection. Isaku could imagine them kneeling on the deck, dishevelled hair hanging down as they pleaded with the villagers to spare their lives.

  ‘There’s no room for pity. It’d be a disaster if any of ’em were allowed to live. They had to be killed; your ancestors decided that, and that’s how it’s been ever since. Village rules have to be obeyed,’ said his mother, a stony look in her eyes. Isaku nodded solemnly.

  * * *

  The next day the sea was rough. The waves broke on the shore with a thunderous roar, and the straw matting at the entrances to the houses fluttered as the wind lashed against the coast.

  Isaku and his mother headed along the path to the village chief’s house, spray raining down on them each time a wave crashed in. The faces of the people they met along the way beamed with joy.