Ice Cold Beer
In 1959, in my opinion, the BEST beer in the world was in the ice house in ChinaCho on the island of Okino—especially after a hot, humid, Summer day of swimming. After a visit to the pool to bathe the sticky salt off our bodies, we would then go to the ice house and get a literally "ice cold beer"—usually a Kirin—that was stored on the pile of ice blocks. A wonderful way to cool off. We would take our ice cold beer upstairs to a little restaurant that looked out over the rocky lava reef that was the shore there. Sometimes, others from the village would join us and on one occasion I remember suddenly a few of the women started giggling and nodding their heads at each other, then they rushed out of the room. We watched as they ran towards the rocky shore, hiking up their skirts as they ran. When they were in the water up to their knees, we saw that they were using their skirts as a container to hold something they were gathering from among the rocks. When they returned about ten minutes later, they showed us what they had picked up—snails. Together, they got enough to fill a 2 gallon pot. They immediately boiled them, and then everyone sat around sucking snails out of their shell. (I know it sounds kinda gross, and in my opinion tasted gross, even if you added soy sauce.) But it was an "Okino" moment that was branded on my memory as a "good time".
So, You Know How to Skindive?
At that time we were trucking water from in the village up to the mountain-top radar site military base on Oyama, and also using a reservoir that was down in a cave beneath the base. They had walled up a section of the cave to make a dam that caught the water flowing through the cave, and had run a long 2" pipe from the base down into it. One day, because everybody thought that I was an accomplished skin diver, they said I was the only one who could go over the dam and down to the bottom of the reservior to unclog the filter at the end of the pipe. Well, I hate dark unknown places. And, I would never use my hands to feel around in a dark unknown place. But, "oh, no, you are the only one qualified to do this."
First I had to be escorted through the cave, which gave me not quite claustrophobia, but I felt an oppressive heavy weight on my shoulders and a very creepy feeling. I have difficulty telling direction when I can see the Sun—underground, in a cave with forks and turns, I would have been lost without the benefit of a guide!
At the end of one of these forks, after 20 minutes of maneuvering through the cave, we came to the dam. It was only about six feet high, and there was only about eighteen inches of space between the top of the dam and the cave overhead. It was quite a task climbing over the wall and by the time I was in the reservior I did indeed have claustrophobia, but the officer in charge said definately there was no choice—the pipe was clogged and the base was not able to pump water from the reservoir. They handed my mask and flippers over the dam wall and ordered me to do it.
After numerous dives (how long can you hold your breath?) trying to unclog the end of that pipe, I got the task accomplished and was happy to get out from inside that dam and out of the cave. My biggest gripe was that I thought I should be treated like a hero after my valiant effort, but that didn't happen.
More about Okino?