June 12, 2013
Today I went octopus fishing!
Apparently this is something you can do as a tourist when you come to
the Boso area, but I went with some co-workers from the Tourism
Promotion Division today.
今日はタコを釣りに行った！房州に行ったら、観光客としてこんな体験があるらしいですが、今日は同じ職場の人たちと一緒に行ってきた。この後はちょっと長い文書だし、今日は仕事が忙しいので英語だけにした。でも、結構面白かった経験だったので時間があれば読んでみてください。
So after changing into some tennis
shoes in the city hall parking lot, I threw on a hoodie in hopes of
warding off the misty rain, while praying the approaching typhoon
wouldn't make the waves too large today. We loaded up in the van, and
set off for the port.
We weaved between small fishing boats
as we headed to our designated parking spot, which we were told is
“in front of the vending machine.” I jumped down from the van,
only to realize that my co-workers were slightly more prepared than
I. Having not given a second thought to going out in the rain with
just jeans and a hoodie, I now realized that this wasn't going to be
enough to shelter me from the rain that was now coming down slightly
harder than it was when we had left. A pitying co-worker lent me a
towel to tie around my head pirate-style, and we tied on our life
jackets.
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| The "rice ball" mountain |
Stepping into the canoe-sized motor boat, the fisherman who
accompanied us asked for the ladies to sit near the edge, as we would
be the ones pulling in the traps. He indicated a mountain off in the
distance that he described as being shaped like a “rice ball,” to
be the area where we would go to pull in the traps. As the boat
plowed through the water, I looked out over the misty mountains, rain
blurring my vision, and the mascara that I had forgotten to not put
on in the morning added to the Jack Sparrow effect as it left black
streaks under my eyes.
We stopped at our destination and after
dropping anchor, a co-worker pulled up the first little cage to find
a small octopus inside. Upon pulling up a second, we found a second
little octopus, an eel, and a small red fish. Next was my turn, so I
grabbed on to the rope and hauled the cage up from the bottom. We
were lucky this time, and a decent sized octopus was inside! The
fisherman plucked him from the trap and handed it to me. Letting out
a scream of terror as the slimy alien-looking creature now squirmed
on my hand, I was all too grateful when it, as if terrified by my
shrills, leapt to the safety of the small pool in the bottom of the
boat where we would store our catch until we returned to shore. A
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| Pool with our catch. The eel is in the red bag. |
The fisherman removed their innards and
ink pouches by flipping their heads inside out, and one of the larger
octopuses made a (now headless) run for it to the edge of the boat,
where he was stopped by a co-worker and tossed back into the little
pool. Our collected sea creatures were then thrown into a bucket for
carrying in the car to our next location.
I sat on the bench seat in the back
leering at the eel who continually freed himself despite my attempts
to return him to the bucket. I sighed and put up my feet as I watched
him struggle and flip himself around the floor of the government issued vehicle until we
arrived at a shabby looking place labeled with a white sign and a
smiling red octopus stating, “Octopus Owners.”
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| I imagine at some point someone went to wash their clothes and was greeted by this sight instead. |
Jumping down from
the van, I was greeted by a cheery, middle aged woman, and upon
approaching what I can only assume was meant to be a garage, a
stooped, grandmother figure came out to check the contents of our
bucket. Snatching up the octopuses, she threw them into the washing
machine set underneath the garage's over hang, and dumped in several
giant scoops of salt. I was told that they would be on spin for the
next 25 minutes, so I should wait inside the garage until then.
Seating myself upon a red plastic chair, I began watching a period
piece drama on the flat screen t.v. that was set above the many fish
tanks that were lined up in rows. Upon saying a few words to the
elderly woman, I realized this is one of the few times since I've
been in Japan that no one gave me any different treatment for being a
foreigner. My clothes finally began to dry as a large vat sat boiling
over a fire to my right, and I checked out some of the fish tanks to
find mollusks for sale. The middle-aged woman explained that they're
cheap here because they haven't gone through the “middle man” yet
before they hit market. She said “if you get them from here they're
cheap, if you get them from the roadside station they are a little
more, and if you get them after that, they've already hit two markets
in between so the price goes up.”
By this time, our many legged load of
laundry was done, and the
grandmother tossed the octopuses into the
vat, using a sieve to clear away the excess salt foam from the
washer. After cooking them for about five minutes, they were tossed
into a small bucket of cool water and we were offered a piece to try
right then and there. Remembering a past unfortunate experience
trying to eat octopus at a sushi restaurant I worked at part time
during college, I turned down the offer, afraid of embarrassing
myself. However I did end up taking one home with me for dinner
later.
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| It's like a witches brew. |
We arrived back at the city hall, and
headed back to our various divisions after exclaiming how tired
everyone must be. Thinking that it was some interesting piece of
knowledge, I explained in excitement to the head of my division how
they threw the octopuses in the washer before cooking them, only to
realize that every Japanese person in the room already knows that
they do this, despite having never been octopus fishing before
themselves. It really is funny how something that is general
knowledge for some, is something entirely new to someone else.
