2025 – 09 – 24 On a distant shoreline, she waves her arms to me

              Instead of streaming this morning (which I, admittedly, don’t like), I opted to go for a bike ride right when I woke up today at around 8 AM, like some sort of insane person. But it’s my first day in Hitakatsu, which means it’s a day ripe for exploration. My hotel has free servo-assisted bikes for rental, so I picked one of those and headed out, too eager to even get breakfast or water bottles for my journey. I wouldn’t need them for the short trip I had in mind, anyway.

              My original plan was simple - just go around this loop that’s at the northeastern most part of the island and head back. I’ll be in Hitakatsu for a few more days, so there’s no need to go too off the beaten path right away. The whole journey should take less than an hour on the bike, even going up and down the mountains.

              But then, I stumbled upon the Battle of Tsushima memorial commemorating the naval conflict between Japan and Tzarist Russia’s Baltic Fleet off the Tsushima coast in 1905. The Russians got wiped out, which was quite an upset, considering their impressive naval history and their superior number of battleships along with Japan’s unknown ability to face a modern, western fleet. I was particularly stoked about it, because besides the Mongol invasion in 1274 and 1281, it was a monumental part of history here in Tsushima, being the only decisive engagement ever fought between modern steel battleship fleets and the first in which wireless telegraphy (radio) played a critically important role. The memorial was right along the path, so I thought I’d be foolish if I didn’t at least stop and check it out. No worries, just a minor detour. I didn’t expect to make use of Russian on Google Translate, but it was on the monument, so I translated it as best as Google would allow to stock up on the history like acorns for a cold winter.

              Flash back to me a couple weeks ago, hearing a story in the Tsushima tourist information centre about how Russians from these destroyed ships floated ashore to Tsushima. I actually couldn’t tell from the translation if it was a single Russian, or several Russians that made it, and it has been the bane of the amateur historian inside of me since. One part of Tsushima (and Japan as a whole, really) that I’ve harped on is how nice all the Japanese people have been. Through and through, they’ve gone above and beyond to just be nice to me. That shouldn’t surprise anybody that locals found a/several large foreigner(s) from the battle on the coastline, and had nursed them back to health instead of treating them like the enemy and killing them, which would have been common for enemies throughout Japanese history. The Japanese Admiral at the time was so impressed with the kindness of the Tsushima people that he visited where the sailor(s) stayed and shook their hand(s). As annoying as those hypothetical parenthesis are to read, they’ve been just as annoying for me to not know the truth. So I did a bit of research to find out more about it. Was it one sailor, or several? Even ChatGPT didn’t know. So I chalked it up as a loss and thought we’ll never get the real answer.

              But today, I found more plaques by the monument that stated that there were MULTIPLE Russians that came ashore to Tsushima! Imagine my excitement as a history buff when I found that out. I couldn’t wait to update my custom ChatGPT about the answer to our deep-dive. I felt like a softcore version of Indiana Jones, travelling to the corner of a foreign island to find out the truth. Making sure to watch the original three Indiana Jones before I left to Japan had left its mark. 

 

Enchanted by my recent discovery, I figured I’d take a stroll down a path next to the monument, closer to where the men landed down the cape. Leaves and foliage covered the pathway, feeling familiar as if I was living out that level in Uncharted where Nathan Drake trekked through France. As you can imagine, I took many a picture.

              With each twist and turn, I kept finding increasingly notable views, from the Tsushima green in the foliage, to the crisp cerulean of the ocean peeking through, the sands of one of Japan’s highest-rated beaches in the corner, and even the sparse dead trees added their own flair. It was amidst this enthrallment that I almost missed a modest sign in the corner of a field. Perhaps I should visit it on the way back, I thought. But in the same way you’d search an entire area before moving on in a video game in case you couldn’t go back, I opted to check it out. It’s how I played the Uncharted video games, after all.

 

              Even though it was hard to imagine that the sailors landed exactly there with how dense the brush was behind it, I still thought it was super neat to be where the stranded sailors must have come ashore. How exhausted must they have been? And not to mention the wounds they might have had. How neat, to experience history like that.

              But my journey continued, beneath even denser greenery and trees and accidentally into cobwebs with huge, striped spiders in them to make the rational part of me shirk from not previously arranging any travel insurance. I just like the rush, I guess.

              A bit later, I found a part in the grass in front of a bench, right at the tip of the cape. I peeked out and found the narrowest of paths above a terrifically steep incline that led right down into the rocks at the utmost of the tip, where Tsushima first met the waves from the vast ocean beyond. Should I go down, I wondered? The odds were stacked against me. Alone, in a foreign country. I alerted nobody of the whereabouts of my journey. If I was lucky, the hotel might come searching for me if my bike hadn’t returned by the end of the day. And, of course, there’s that whole lack-of-medical-insurance thing.

              But then there were the pros. I could use a bit of water to splash on my hands, face, neck, and arms to apply a bit more sunscreen after sweating most of it off during my bike and trek. I would probably get a better view. And, of course, adventure awaited down there. Besides, can you imagine how lame of a journal this would be if I decided not to go all the way down?

              So I carefully waddled down, using a rope tied to a log for stability for the first leg. A sharp turn at the edge had me crashing down on my bum, but thankfully, not rolling down. I zig zagged down to a conglomerate of rocks on the edge of the cliff fine, but I noticed the rock next to the one I had found myself on was more of a ledge than a wall. So the one I was on must also be a ledge. Hah, I though, I’d be so dead if this rock decided to crack. So I inched myself off it carefully and continued down the slope until, thankfully, I reached the bottom in one piece.

              I knew right away that it was a good decision. The view alone was to (almost) die for.

            

There was also this really neat realisation that I was on the utmost eastern part of the entire island. I thought it was the northeastern most part while I was there, but even after verifying afterwards that it was technically just eastern most, it’s still pretty neat. Nobody on Tsushima was as east as I was when I was on those rocks.

              But the coastline didn’t stop there. It went a fair bit down, back alongside towards the mainland, but beneath the cliffs where the foliage grew. Between the sharp rocky surface and the risk of being dragged into the water, the damage from potentially falling was incredibly dangerous. But I reckoned that same sharp surface would actually give me more traction on my trusty $20 sandals I bought in Hiroshima with my dad about a month ago, so I’d be less likely to actually fall. The risk should balance out, I though.

              I made my way along the coastline, meandering until I got along another mini archipelago closer to the mainland. On the top, I found two stone formations I hadn’t noticed before. Someone had come up there before and stacked stones. I felt like something was guiding me along that little archipelago, down towards the stones where the waves crashed against land for the first time.

              But on the way, I made a curious discovery, buried between the rocks where no dirt or nutrients to live seemed to lie.  

 

              How could life find a way to exist in such a remote place with seemingly no dirt? And in such great shape, too. It didn’t look damaged or bent or struggling in any way. It just sat there, in its nook as east as Tsushima could go, fine as day.

              This might sound hippie dippie or goofy, but I felt like there must be some sort of deity or spirit present there. There were enough shrines around Tsushima, so why wouldn’t there be? I felt as if something guided me further down into the rocks.

              You know, I imagined Tsushima being beachy, like it was in the video game. But it was rather cliffy instead, with dreadful drops and sharp rocks scattered across most of the coastline. I realised down there that the Russian sailors likely came ashore closer to where I was than where the sign stood earlier. Looking at the rocks, I couldn’t imagine how they made it. One unexpected wave could combine our soft mortal bodies with these indomitable stone defilades with brutal results.

As I’ve done twice before now on Tsushima, I decided to write a haiku about being at this utmost east point of the island to honour those that were in the battle 120 years ago.

 

Violence in the seas

The coastline is no better

But locals differ

 

              I recited my haiku out to the ocean, hoping the sailors, both Russian and Japanese, would hear it. Idk if they’re out there, but just in case they were.

              Then I had my best idea of the day - why wouldn’t I put “Porcelina of Vast Oceans” by Smashing Pumpkins on and just enjoy being on the fringes of the coast? I can’t tell you how much that song means to me. My dad gave me the album of the same name as a kid, the only time he’s ever given me an album, and he came to Japan with me. Not only is it an absolute jam of a song, but because of the slow beginning, I actually ended up buying it on Apple (can’t believe I actually bought a song on Apple) to use as my alarm for waking up. I read somewhere that slow wakeups are better for your sleep cycle than the shock of a loud alarm, and it can help you remember more of your dreams as well. That’s another thing I’ve been trying all year, to remember my dreams more.

              But I digress, I thought it’d be a great song to put on because I took so many naps at work during my latter days at the Army. I honestly should have just left work early on days where I had nothing to do, but for reasons, I couldn’t, so I figured I might as well catch up on sleep lol. Waking up in a quiet room at work with such a dreamy song reminded me to hold on for just a little while longer until I was officially done there. It was my ode to being so close to the end, to knowing that the life I dreamed about was just within my grasp. So to play it out there, on the borderline of limbo on the rocks of a Tsushima cape far, far away from the life I used to live. It seemed like the best possible way I could tell myself, hey, I made it. Whatever I’m doing now is so, so much better for me than what I was doing a few months ago. And it was about being at a coastline!

              It felt surreal, listening to the faraway guitar riffs and deeply introspective vocals about how Billy Corgan’s dream persona, Porcelina, leads him into the deeper part of his mind where he can feel truly free. I have always felt similar with my goddess Fortuna tattooed on my arm, as if my life has permanently changed right away after getting her. Sometimes she takes, but then she gives back. It was on those rocks that I firmly had a feeling she had been giving back in spades lately, as if the early ways she took from my career in the Army were all to charge up how she’s been helping me now. Fortuna has always been my Porcelina. Between that and letting the waves crash over my feet on these, frankly, dangerous rocks was my ballad to letting myself let go of some of the burdens I’d undertaken over the past year and some change, as if a new version of me needs to leave that nasty shell of what the Army left broken and abused behind.

            (i know this video isn't loading but it's almost noon and i want to go bike again, so i'll fix it later)

              I made a bunch of other choices out there, too. After the song ended, of course. A bit more guidance for what I should plan for in the future. Just a few more bracketing decisions to narrow me down into the life I want to live when I’m older. I shouted them out into the waves to anyone who was listening - the Russian and Japanese sailors, the deity who grew the plant that shouldn’t be able to grow where it grew, my ancestors, Fortuna, myself, or anyone or anything else out there I couldn’t conceive of listening. They all got a taste of what I was thinking, and maybe they’d help me find what’s worth it.

              All good things have to come to an end, though, and I had then realised that my doomsday clock to dehydration had already began. I didn’t even begin this leg of my trip with any water, and I sure had used a lot. Alas, it had come time for me to leave.

              But another danger loomed ahead - how was I supposed to get back up?             I could probably struggle my way back through where I came, but that sounded boring. Not to mention how challenging it would be to get back up through that hill, and how much longer it would take before I could get water if I ventured backwards. Thankfully, another stone arm flexed off the rock structure laid further down the coastline, this one with a wooden fence suggesting the path where humans were actually supposed to be. So, I opted to double down and continue my trek, hoping Fortuna blessed me with a way up.

              The cove of sorts between us turned out to be the most sketchy yet. Everywhere I stepped, these little bugs scurried out in a hurry, weary of a human disrupting their community. Trekking across the beach between the constant push and pull of the waves produced its own obstacles as well, with the steep wall I had to Assassins Creed myself on being the cherry on top.

              As you can imagine by me writing this piece, though, I made it fine. The final obstacle ahead was getting to the fence line at the top of the rock, as every route towards it had its own spicy flair of danger.

              The right path, the one immediately visible from where I spotted the fence to begin with, was covered in greenery that suggested from afar that it would be traversable. Up close, this turned out to not be the case. It was hilariously too steep, and while I *could* potentially make it, the risk of falling off a cliff where nobody knew I was would have been way too costly. In both senses of the word “costly,” because if I did happen to survive, I’d have to pay out of pocket for any medical expenses.

              The path to the right didn’t seem too much more appealing. Dead trees and dense shrubbery virtually entirely covered any possible route upwards. But I wasn’t about to make the entire trip back up the coastline towards where I came, and given the dangers of my other option, I had to find a way through it. I wasn’t entirely eager of putting my sandaled feet through bare fauna though, especially with the local inhabitants that might be living there. I did get stung by a bee a few days ago, so if you were looking hard enough, there were, in fact, some Tsushima residents who weren’t kind.

              Through the narrowest of openings, I made my initial push towards the fence. About two steps in, I got myself tangled on the outer fringes of a massive web, and came face-to-face with one of those giant spiders I’ve been trying to avoid my whole time in Tsushima. It was black with yellow stripes, and normally only a few inches long, but looked maybe a foot wide up close. We both panicked from the encounter, and I flung myself out of the shrubbery and I did a dance to rid myself of the remnants of its web. Okay, Fortuna said not that way.

              So I searched along the shrubbery for another opening, and found a small one a little bit to the side of my last. I carefully darted through there, trying not to think about what my feet might be getting into beneath my line of sight.

              As I tried to balance caution and speed, I leaned one of the skinnier dead trees for support and it instantly snapped off, providing me with a convenient stick for “minesweeping,” as I’ve dubbed it, for any surprise spiderwebs ahead. What a kind way for Fortuna to tell me I’m on the right path, I thought.

              I made it to the fence line with no further problems, taking a long breath of relief when I did. Out of curiosity, I peeked out behind it, towards the steep cliff that I could have approached. It looked even steeper and I would have surely died if I tried it.

              The stick came in handy going back down the path. Part of me wanted to bring it with me the whole way, but I knew it’d be best suited for someone else, so I left it right before the trees began to cover the path for the next passerby. Lorde knows how much I wanted a stick like that earlier. But before I did, I took a picture of me with the stick, enlightened by both my luck in finding it and from my journey as a whole.

After making it out, I got some water from a conveniently-located vending machine nearby and began prepping my gear through next to a big Battle of Tsushima memorial sign. Two Korean guys biked up and asked for me to take their picture by it. Of course I did. I wish I could have shared how much I enjoyed the shrine where they were headed, but like the old man told me the other day at the restaurant, I simply said, “Enjoy Tsushima.”

I didn’t plan on making this journal all crunchie, but reading it back now, I feel like it’s exactly the kind of shit that Matthew McConnaughey would have gotten into, and I’ve always wanted to live a life kind of like his after reading “Greenlights.” So hey, I feel like I’m on the right track, and I’m so, so grateful for Tsushima for doing what it’s done for me.

Another fun fact I just realised?? A song that’s been stuck in my head lately is “Green Light” by Lorde after I saw a green light flashing from a lighthouse a few days ago.

 

 SOTD – Sorry Lorde, but I’d be a fool to not let Porcelina of the Vast Oceans take the spot today x