Happy Raft

Takeshi decided we should go river rafting. Brilliant idea! So on June 15th, we all (Takeshi, Mimi, Simon, Ruriko, Akiko, and me), piled into his van at 7:30 in the morning and drove to Otoyo, near Oboke.

Otoyo is situated in the Yoshinogawa Gorge, running in a North/South direction through the middle of Shikoku. It’s in Tokushima prefecture; we were going to play on the upper Yoshino river, which eventually makes its way east to Tokushima and the sea. It took us about two and a half hours to get to the Happy Raft headquarters from Imabari via the freeway.

I should mention that it started raining about 20 minutes before we were supposed to meet. This is to be expected at the beginning of the rainy season in Imabari. It rained all day…

Ruriko researched and arranged our appointment with Happy Raft, the company hosting us. They were the cheapest of the alternatives at $5,500 per person for a half-day trip – a great value, and they’re friendly, accommodating folks. We signed off the obligatory liability waivers and were led downstairs for our gear. We were two groups of six, and a couple in a small raft.

After donning wetsuits, shoes, fleece, kayak spray jackets, helmets and flotation vests, we were led through extensive instructions on rafting safety, what to do if we fall out, and so on.




It was quite thorough, though I could only follow about a third of it…but Takeshi and Ruriko helped explain things when necessary.

Finally, it was time to jump into the van, head up the road and into our waiting rafts. Out on the water, we watched a group of kayakers in tiny ‘banana boats’ enter the river. They became a sort of unofficial escort as we made our way downstream, occasionally one of them would do a nose stand in the water (!). It looked very odd.


Yoshio was our steersman and guide, and the first thing he made us do was stand up on the raft edge, and throw ourselves backward into the river!





After a moment of panic I relaxed and enjoyed floating around and practicing getting back into the raft. The water was green, cold and over my head, however, and I was glad I was in a wetsuit. Running the first set was quite exciting and a bit scary – great fun.



However, he then pulled up to a big crag of rock sticking out of the water, and had us all climb up on top of it. It was clear that we were going to have to jump off…and we did.



I don’t like heights, and this was the scariest part of the whole thing for me, but I gritted my teeth and jumped. A big part of the appeal, and satisfaction, of these adventures lies in overcoming such fears.











Two people dove off. Takeshi showed us what it looked like to do a bellyflop from 15 feet up! Luckily, he was ok.

I found the rain, the mist, the rocks and wild, green, white water, and the steep mountains taking me back to northern British Columbia and my years of treeplanting there. It was the closest thing I’ve seen to BC in Japan. Of course the buildings look different, have a different vernacular of line and space, a different presence, but the spirit, of being in the woods, was here. I felt I could breathe out. And occasionally smell some woodsmoke.

Then we jumped out of the boat again, took hold of each others flotation vests at the shoulders, feet up, and, in a six person train, ran a set of rapids! It was thrilling as I couldn’t see a thing and waves kept rolling over me…whew! Didn’t hit any rocks, though.


In the final set of rapids, we rode over a perhaps five foot dropoff , and up and over a big tooth of a rock.




It was an exciting finish to a wonderful expedition. Back onshore at Happy Raft, in our dry clothes, we drank some tea and ate fresh banana bread. We were all, to our surprise, quite tired. Yoshio burned his photos, and a video segment onto a disc for us for ¥1000 ($10).


And still hungry; we stopped and ate Iya soba at a small, roadside restaurant run by an obaachan. Delicious! Iya soba seems ‘dryer’ than other soba noodles, perhaps because it has more buckwheat in it… Then on to a local hotel for a soak in their luxurious onsen. It was deserted and a bargain at ¥400 and a Happy Raft discount. It was raining hard at this point and the soak was a great way to warm up and relax.

In the tatami rest area in the lobby, I found a Shikoku no Michu (Shikoku 88 temple) pilgrimage guidebook – in English, no less! They didn’t have any for sale, but I’ll look for it in Matsuyama when I’m there. It looked very good, and I must start thinking about saving money to make the walk…

Takeshi took us further east and north towards Takamatsu to hook up to the freeway. We ended up driving down a wonderful narrow (one lane with pullouts) road through the mountains. We stopped to admire a large hillside garden of Ajisai (Haydrangea) and buy some maki-sushi at a small village. They were having a barbeque, and were very friendly.

Eventually we found the freeway and the road home. Then it was off to Himedori itzukaya to celebrate! But that’s another story.

Thanks Takeshi and Ruriko for organizing a great trip!




Most of these photos were taken by Yoshio and the other Happy Raft guides.
Happy Raft: http://www.happyraft.com , tel.: 0887-75-0599.

Of o-Hanami and Drinking Tea.

Late April is cherry blossom viewing time around here. On April 20th., ICIEA held the 10th annual o-hanami, or cherry blossom viewing party. It took place at Shimi no Mori, (Citizen’s Park), at the top of the hill. Last year there were no trees in bloom yet. This year was perfect, with the trees in perhaps 70% full bloom.

I was asked by Tabusa-san if I wanted to serve tea in a shortened tea ceremony. She has various students do this at o-hanami every year. She asked in February…which didn’t leave much time. Having taken part in this shortened ceremony several times, I felt perhaps it was time to give it back…so I said yes.

My feeling at this time was that this art was a sort of partly idealized, partly sentimentalized call to Japan’s medieval past. I did enjoy the bitter, gorgeously green tea.

I found out, however, that o-cha is a rigorous ritual, endlessly detailed and quite difficult to master, even in the short version we were studying. It didn’t help that I can’t sit seizei for more than five minutes before my knees threaten me. During the five or six lessons my teacher gave me, she was very patient.

Tabusa-san lives in a beautiful Meiji era house in Sakurai, the south part of Imabari. It’s a forty minute bike ride from my house in Oshinden in the north. One enters her house via a very pretty moss covered garden.

Her tea room is in the shoin room of her house, quite big, and the walls are covered in black stucco made from black sand. Usually this stucco is beige, like it is in my house, and a common wall component indoors. Apparently during Edo and Meiji times, this black sand stucco was prized. It looks very odd and beautiful…six years ago, when they renovated her house, she and her husband left the shoin room with it’s original walls.

She told me her sensei, who is 94, and very, very old school, would be coming to the cherry blossom viewing. I started freaking out; there was no possibility of even approaching her standards! I was reassured, however, that she couldn’t see so well. So, Yano-san, a fellow practisioner, was then asked to lend me his kimono, under-kimono, and zori. He agreed, reluctantly, to do this.

April 20th. was sunny. Fluffy white clouds were floating around in the sky. The trees were in bloom. It looked great! Lots of people showed up. Everything started a little late; Yano-san dressed me in his really nice green kimono, muttering ‘chotto metabolic’ repeatedly. It means ‘you’re a bit over weight’. He said it six times.

Wearing kimono was really amazing this time around as it was formal; under-kimono, kimono, Hakata (pant things),and of course, obi. I quite enjoyed wearing it; it was also quite comfortable, nearly all of the time.




Taijo and my teacher, Nanae Tabusa










There were four of us serving tea: Mei-chan, Tabusa-san’s neice, Felicity, a visiting Australian high school exchange student, Taijo-kun, Yano-san’s 12 year old son, and me. We’d each serve a couple of times.

My turn came third round in, and was a complete disaster. I forgot everything I’d learned, and did everything backwards, which is my common failing in Japan. The two men I was making tea for were very kind, however, and tried to help me relax as I became increasingly nervous through the procedure. Luckily I seem to be able to make a passable cup of tea, even when I get the ritual completely wrong. Finally, trying to get up to take away the waste water container, I brought my left knee forward to stand and heard the soft sound of expensive fabric trying not to rip. Horrified, I looked over to my guests, who, looking very concerned, raised their hands, and said, in English, ‘slowly, slowly’.














Eventually I was able to stand up. I stepped off the felt tea surface into Yano-san’s zori, and walked under the cherry tree right there, to place the water container on a little table reserved for it…and walked straight into a low hanging branch I didn’t even realize was there. Standing still for a moment to collect my wits, I looked down and realized my zori had been knocked off my feet! Really. I almost laughed at that point, put them back on, and returned to the felt to bow and excuse my long suffering guests. They seemed well entertained.




Then I was privileged to watch Taisho-kun show me how to do it. He was great to watch, relaxed, totally focused, and wearing the most amazing emerald green hakama. He looked stunning against the red carpet, under the gently waving shadows of the cherry blossoms overhead. Way cool.

Tabusa san wanted to know if I’d learned anything. I said yes.

Later I found Yano-san wandering around in his bare feet (because I had his zori on…). I was appalled, and insisted he take them back. I served my second tea set in my sneakers.

Some time after this, I served tea to two young engineering students and their friend. It was much more relaxed, we talked and I enjoyed myself (still making mistakes, however!). But o-cha is about creating a relaxing experience as much as about making tea, and this round felt much closer…

Then we took some pictures, and I gave the kimono back to Yano-san. I was relieved to see that it appeared undamaged. I’d like to get one, but have not liberated the required $1,000 or so which would be a normal starting point...

I have discovered a mail order business, who buy old kimono, clean them (an expensive process where the kimono is deconstructed, dry cleaned, and re-sewn!) and sell them on the net.

I could buy the requisite inner and outer kimono, haori (a kind of overcoat), and hakama (pant things) for perhaps $500, plus another $100 for sori or geta, and wrappers. Some inner kimono and haori are hand painted works of art, signed by their painters.





My friend, Yoshio Tanaka













I signed up to serve again next April, so maybe I’ll get one this year.