1
Just as yesterday, I asked a staff of the monorail station, and went to Naha Bus Terminal at Asahibashi [旭橋]. I had to get on bus 117 to go to the Beautiful Aquarium [美ら海水族館]. It was a good 2-hour drive to the Aquarium; I didn’t know it was that far. Though having slept little, I couldn’t fall asleep on the bumpy highway. By Nago City perhaps, the bus emerged out of weeds and tombs, and afterwards it followed the highway along the seashore. I had plenty of time watching in solitude the sea, which extended to the unfathomable skyline, and brooding on what misery mankind was in, and completing the boring writing which this travel journal was.
One got off “in front of the Memorial Park” [記念公園前], which was exactly the entrance of the Ocean Expo Park. It was moderately hot, but quite humid in the air. Following the brochures, one walked for some 5 minutes to the right to enter the Aquarium. There was a shark statue in front of the door, which I would soon realize what it stood for.
Figure: Entrance of the Ocean Expo Park.
2
With the 1850 yen ticket, one got into the building crowded with people; many were downright excited kids, some of them speaking Chinese. In the first room one could touch the sea stars and sea urchins, if done gently. There was a big fish tank with its wall made of magnifying glass, so that a variety of fish could be closely examined. A swirling school of clownfish (to which people exclaimed “Nemo”, referring to «Finding Nemo»), a huge scary sweetlips, a trumpetfish resembling a stick, sea turtles which whipped its limbs to the surface, and a ray with funny protruding eyes.
There was a myriad of creatures I couldn’t name. These seemingly meaningless encyclopedia entries had, at that moment, turned into vivid bone and flesh in front of me. How alienated have we been from the real nature surrounding us? We weren’t far from thinking a sushi bar menu is a close likeness to the fish.
Figure: A sea turtle.
Figure: A ray.
Figure: A sea bass.
3
When I thought that that was it, I was wrong; what was in the next room was nothing less. A still larger, incredibly large creature, as wide as several adult’s height, swam casually across the curved glass wall, near the surface of water; spectators exclaimed in their language in earnest awe. It was a whale shark. Now I just laughed at myself for having considered those sea basses to be large.
A dented canopy enabled us to directly look, under it, the whale sharks from below, so I could examine its fins and abdomen closely, in a frightening angle. At 1 and half, a diver went into the tank to shoot real-time video of these sea creatures, which was shown on a screen.
Not in their natural home, they required great care by the staff. We were still uncertain about what they ate, the written notes said. The staff even had the female whale sharks take the ultrasound scan, with help by Taiwanese researchers, when it was about to give birth to baby sharks. Nevertheless, they must find the tank (or to them, the bowl) to be depressingly small, barely possible to let them turn around as recklessly as in the ocean, though the tank had been recognized as the largest fish tank in the world. What would the whale sharks be like if they could go back to the sea? They were to plunge merrily perhaps, once they felt like it, into the deepest ocean which the mankind perceived to be mere endless darkness, and again to rise onto the surface of water in no time.
Figure: Whale sharks and spectators.
Figure: The belly of whale shark.
4
Beside the tank for the whale sharks, there were miscellaneous tanks inhabiting other deep sea creatures. That was made possible by a specially designed device which exerted extra pressure, as explained on a plaque. The lobsters were as big as an adult’s chest. The jellyfish, glowing under the ultraviolet light, were eating something eerily while wielding its tentacles. And the flashlight fish in the darkness could only be recognized by its distinctive fluorescent stripe.
In the souvenir store I bought a shirt with the iconic whale shark on it, hoping that the trifle amount of money would help them keep living at their ease.
Figure: Jellyfish.
5
Thinking it was possible to go into the Aquarium again, I felt like that was enough for the moment, and followed my whim to visit the plant gardens pictured on the brochure. Next to the Aquarium building, there were several pools for manatees and sea turtles. A dolphin show, as I passed by, had just ended. Southwards were more butterflies and bees, and tropical plants with prickly leaves, and there crow caw could be heard.
The plant garden didn’t seem as impressive as the Aquarium was. Fearing that the bus time might be unpredictable, I decided, by almost 4pm, that I had to go back to wait for the returning bus. The bus soon came, which was the next-to-last one, and I called it a day.
Figure: The dolphin show.
6
By now I had had nothing impressive, except an Onigiri bought in the morning by the Naha terminal station, and a shabby soba-noodle in a stand by the Aquarium, so I was really hungry. After going back to the hotel and having rested for a moment, it was already 8pm, and what was still opening might only be Izakaya-bars. I have never been to an Izakaya-bar. Speaking of that, this area, reading Maejima [前島] on the map, appeared right at the center of an aggregation of Izakaya-bars; there were more than a dozen ones within walking distance. I crossed a street to go into the nearest one, Umi no Chinboraa [海のちんぼらぁ], judging from the 4-star rating on Google Maps.
The staff welcomed me to a low wooden seat, near the bar adorned with seashells; there, through the glass surrounding the open kitchen, fish slices could be seen, on which diligently working cooks worked in front of me. I ordered a dish of rice, fried with fish shreds and served with sea urchin. Orion Beer, a feature of Okinawa, could be refilled free, as seemed to be the norm. Quickly I realized that it was somewhat weird that I was typing alone here, since I could tell from the environment that the place served usually for gatherings of business people or friends. I tried not to be embarrassed, and ordered another soy-sauce-stewed fish; the stewed fish certainly tasted like one of the best of its kind I had ever had, cooked just to the right point, and rightly contrasting the bitter but smooth Orion beer. Later that day I would leave a 5-star rating for this inconspicuous bar; I told the cook so, not sure whether they could understand English. At least, the fish alone cost some 1 400 yen, and this amount ought to be forgotten.
Figure: A dish of fried rice.
Figure: A fish stew.
❧ July 9, 2019; revised July 12, 2021