Chapter 10
Hiroshi Saito faces the Tasman Sea, his eyes chasing the morning tide. The water is calm and the sky is clear, perfect conditions for an early hunt. Pulsating waves of cool water bury his ankles and then fall effortlessly back into the sea. Wearing only a pair of dark blue swimming trunks and a set of goggles that dangle around his neck, Hiroshi stands at the ready, holding a spear he improvised last night. But before he dives into the sea, his mind drifts with the tide recalling a day that changed his life forever.
Hiroshi was seventeen years old and spearfishing with his brother, Nori, along the coast of Jodgohama Beach in Miyako Bay. They were spending another busy summer hunting for yellowtail, or
hiramasa,
to sell at the fish markets in town. Fishing was in the family blood, or at least that’s what they were told by their father, who owned Saito Fishing Industries. It was a factual statement, one that could hardly be argued, as their legacy of fishing spanned seven generations.
Hiroshi was the eldest but only by eleven months, and their sibling rivalry came to the fore when they went fishing. Nori was winning the day easily, having speared several fish while Hiroshi was still waiting for his first catch. All of that was about to change, though, when he saw through the murky depths a flash of gold, exposing what easily was the largest
hiramasa
he had ever laid eyes on. At over thirty kilograms, this fish eclipsed by threefold anything Nori snared that day. This record fish would not only net them a large sum of money, it would add to the long list of accomplishments held by the Saito family in their rich tradition of fishing.
Hiroshi had the fish in his sights and his finger on the trigger. But something unexpected happened in that moment. Something that would change everything. He never pulled the trigger. He watched as the mammoth yellowtail swam away unscathed. When he surfaced, he faced the wrath of his brother who had witnessed the missed opportunity.
“What happened down there? You had a clear shot. Why didn’t you take it?”
Hiroshi pulled off his goggles and threw them into the small boat that was anchored next to them. “I didn’t want to.”
“What?” Nori asked, baffled. “I don’t understand. What do you mean you didn’t
want
to?”
Hiroshi treaded the water as he contemplated his actions. Fishing was all that he had ever known but he had always heard a voice inside him that questioned everything. “It
means
that I don’t want to do this anymore. I don’t want to be a fisherman, not now or ever. I’m done. I’m done with this.”
“Good morning, Hiroshi.” A voice startles him from his reverie.
Hiroshi turns to see Noah dressed in dark grey hiking pants and a black t-shirt. “Good morning, Noah.”
“Going spear fishing?”
Hiroshi shrugs. “I haven’t done this in a long time, but I thought I would give it a try.” He inspects the multi-spiked tip of tree thorns as long as hypodermic needles.
“The fish don’t stand a chance,” Noah concludes, then changes the subject. “I wanted to personally thank you for a terrific night’s sleep. It was my first shuteye since landing on the island.”
“It’s the least I could do. I wish I could do more.”
“I know you do, Hiroshi, but you have done more than your fair share.” He points to the west. “I’m going to scavenge the side of the beach where the fire was and see if I can find anything over there that we can use. I’m hoping to find something we can make into a water filtration system. If we are to remain sustainable on the beach we need to start filtering all the water we gather for consumption.”
Hiroshi nods in approval. “Agreed. I can assist you in configuring the water bath if you need it. Who knows how long we’ll be here; it may be weeks.”
Noah winces at the thought. “I hope you’re wrong about that, but yes, it’s better to be prepared. I can certainly use your help with the filter system once I gather the materials.”
“Then you will have it,” he says with a smile. “I hope we will be discussing that over a fish breakfast.” Hiroshi pulls the goggles into position.
“Wouldn’t that be nice?” Noah smiles his toothy grin and parts with a wink.
*************
A growing comfort with their surroundings has the castaways scattered across Crescent Beach, the name they bestowed upon the narrow abyss during last night’s dinner conversation. Everyone that is, except Max, who continues to insist on calling their little strip of hell Banana Beach, no exceptions. Hunger is the topic of the day, and it brings everyone out to comb the area for any possible nourishment. Edible plants notwithstanding, there is an overwhelming need to eat something more substantial, and several members have provided in kind. Hiroshi’s fish pursuit has yielded a pair of stingrays and a sea urchin, and Craig and Tom have found eight hermit crabs. Noah graciously adds an assortment of long-legged insects to the bonanza; he suggests eating them with a dab of his own personal hot sauce.
The legend of Noah’s spice rack has grown faster than a wildfire on the Serengeti. The moment he used his prized delicacies on the daily catch, word spread amongst the others that they would never again suffer a bland existence. What appears at first glance to be a forensic scientist’s lab kit is actually an alchemist’s cache, chockfull of oils and spices that you would expect in the kitchen of a world-renowned chef. Not even Luna can decipher the curious collection of elixirs and powders. Evelyn teases that the
Pummeled Pursis
and
Vilari
Husk
are nothing more than paprika and coriander, causing Noah to protest vehemently that they are most certainly anything but.
The survivors of Flight 316 gather for breakfast and the general mood is still upbeat. Remarkable, considering they have been stranded on the beach for over forty hours with no sign of rescue, despite their best efforts. During the meal, Evelyn suggests that they make a table long enough to seat everyone, since sitting on the beach seems so “uncivilized.” Her suggestion is well-taken, as several others agree, and Hiroshi and Jacob volunteer to construct the table, promising to finish it before their next feeding. With food hard to come by and sustainability of paramount importance, the group has agreed to eat only two meals per day: one in the late morning, followed by an early supper in the late afternoon. This decision was met with some minor protest from Jacob and Tom, but eventually they gave in to the majority.
A list of items and tasks are distributed among the group, and everyone seems willing to contribute — even Josette, who is slowly warming to the others. Evelyn has taken notice, and personally asked for her assistance with various duties that she will be performing throughout the day. Though Josette has agreed to help, Jeremy is conspicuously absent from the meal and seems to have regressed since the night before. Suffering from the effects of a low-grade fever and a restless night’s sleep, Luna suspects he may be developing an infection and has informed Evelyn of her diagnosis. Together, they agree on a regimen of antibiotics from the first-aid-kit and to quadruple his water ration.
*************
At midday on Crescent Beach, the camp buzzes with activity. Jeremy convalesces near the shelter and tent area. Noah, with Max’s assistance, is putting the finishing touches on a water filtration system, which actually appears to work, much to Max’s astonishment. Stationed further away and deeper in the forest, Hiroshi and Jacob are halfway through cutting a long skinny beech tree. They appear to be on track with their promise, as a picnic table is already complete, minus the two benches.
Patrick is trying his hand at spear fishing, with little luck, and Evelyn, Josette, and Luna are just back from a long forage in the wilderness. Their efforts have resulted in a substantial amount of nikau palm, which can be cooked like cabbage, and some trigyna, which is similar to spinach. They also gathered a bushel of tutu berries, which will take at least two days to prepare before consumption, as the berries need to be crushed and drained to separate the poisonous seeds.
Some of the others are taking on more leisurely pursuits; Alice, Sarah, and Mia are sunbathing, and Tom is deep into a siesta nearby in the shade. His Panama hat, acquired from the plundered luggage, rests casually in the middle of his square frame. His sleep is rudely interrupted by a tremor so powerful it throws his prone body into the air, from whence it comes crashing down, only to be tossed again and again, the plump Englishman squiggling on the ground like a fish out of water.
“Everyone! Follow me!” Noah shouts.
But no one does. The continuous
THWACK! THWACK!
of snapping trees drowns out his command. He runs to the middle of the beach, away from the surrounding forest, to avoid being struck by wooden swords. Despite not having heard him, Max, Evelyn, Luna, and Josette instinctively follow his lead, struggling to run against the powerful vibrations under their feet. The sunbathers are moving slowly, crawling their way toward Noah and the others. The tremor comes to an end just as the two parties meet. The earthquake had lasted over a minute, during which it wreaked havoc on Crescent Beach.
While the knot on the beach struggle to find their equilibrium, Noah is thrown into high alert as he assesses the damage. The entire beach is littered with a potpourri of tree fragments and leaves. Through his binoculars, he scans the perimeter and spots Hiroshi and Jacob running hard toward camp. Knowing that several members are unaccounted for, he pans to the north and sees nothing but empty beach. When his sights drift toward the shoreline he notices a straw hat swirling in the wind and something else that fills him full of dread: Tom lies flat on his back, pinned under a large tree trunk that’s been snapped in half. He is not moving.
Noah lowers his binoculars and, without saying anything to anyone, he blazes a trail toward the fallen Tom. Mid-sprint, he catches from the corner of his eye Patrick, also running. But something about the way he’s running is unsettling. His pace is erratic and he flails his arms crazily, as if trying to get someone, anyone, to pay attention to him. What Noah realizes next causes him to slow his pace before suddenly coming to a dead stop. Stunned, he watches the surf race back into the sea. In an instant, he turns toward Evelyn and the others and crisscrosses his arms repeatedly, frantically attempting to get their attention.
Evelyn doesn’t see him because she is trying to calm everyone’s fear, including her own. The earthquake has sent Josette over the edge and she cries hysterically. Evelyn tries to reassure her that the worst is over when Mia breaks in.
“Noah is trying to tell us something.”
Raising her hand to block out the sun, she turns away from Josette to see Noah waving in distress. She responds quickly using hand signals to give him the go ahead. He complies by signaling the instructions, which Evelyn reads aloud as everyone watches in curious awe.
“Evacuate immediately… tsunami coming... oh, dear,” she mutters under her breath before continuing. “Head for high ground… leave the man behind.”
The transmission leaves Evelyn feeling unsteady but she carries out Noah’s command. She barks out instructions to everyone within earshot and they scatter to complete their assignments. Josette grabs one of the suitcases full of warm clothing. Sarah grabs gunnysacks full of nikau palm and trigyna, leaving the sack of tutu berries behind. Max helps Evelyn get Jeremy out of the tent and, after they do, she breaks the canopy down with a simple turn of a switch that collapses the tent into a small flat rectangle that she throws into one of the backpacks. Mia takes one of the backpacks and Max grabs the other one, allowing Evelyn to grab another suitcase full of clothing. Within minutes, the group is on the move, following Max’s lead to higher ground.
During the evacuation, Hiroshi and Jacob enter the camp. Jacob had rushed to help Evelyn and the others while Hiroshi found Luna, meeting her with an impassioned embrace. But the moment Hiroshi heard the news of the incoming tsunami, he released Luna and took a few steps toward the diminishing sea. Then he looked back at Luna. It was just a look, but she knew the moment she saw it what he was going to do next.
Luna stands paralyzed on the beach, unable to hear the commotion happening all around her. She is flooded with the memory of a tragic day that she has repressed for so long that it now seems like a bad dream.
March 11, 2011, one year to the day after we had been married. Hiroshi was away on his first big assignment in America, where he was commissioned to design a performing arts center in San Francisco. It was the opportunity that he had worked so tirelessly for.
We were living in Miyako, a small fishing town where Hiroshi had lived most of his life. It was while he was away from us on business that we lost a majority of our family to the massive earthquake and tsunami that wiped out his ancestral home.
I lost my sister, Kayo, that day, and my mother died shortly afterward, from lung cancer that I am certain was caused by massive exposure to radiation while living in Fukushima. However, to my infinite sadness, no one lost more loved ones than my husband: both parents, his brother Nori, and scores of cousins and friends he had known his whole life.
After that, he swore that he would never leave us again. And every time his business took him away from our home, he has been adamant that we travel with him. Because of that vow, he now blames himself for everything that has happened to us on this crescent shaped beach.