Shipwrecks by Akira Yoshimura Page A

sound of the waves.
    He had only a vague memory of the last time O- fune- sama had visited their shores, but when he recalled that strangely festive atmosphere he thought that it must be a treasure indeed to make the villagers go wild with joy.
    He walked along the path toward the faint outline of his house against the light of the night sky.

5
    T he reds and yellows mantling the far-off ridges began to fade as the temperature dropped with each passing day. One morning, when the sea was calm, Isaku stepped down to the earthen floor to be told by his mother, ‘Take Isokichi out with you from now on.’
    Isaku stared at his younger brother, who sat beside the fireplace facing him. In effect, she wanted him to teach Isokichi how to work an oar and catch fish. Though the boy had started to help carry bundles of dried branches home from the mountains behind their house, Isaku thought it would be a tough task to teach little Isokichi how to become a fisherman.
    â€˜Isokichi, why are you still sitting on your backside?’ yelled his mother, slapping his little brother fiercely across the face. Isokichi got to his feet and scampered to the dirt floor, still holding his hand against his cheek. Isaku picked up the oar that stood in the corner of the room, swung it onto his shoulder, and left the house. His mother and Isokichi followed him, fishing-tackle in hand. With the last hint of dawn still in the sky, there wasn’t a cloud to be seen, holding promise of a clear autumn day.
    As he walked to the shore he thought that it was about time Isokichi started going out on the water. Isaku had first been taken out by his father the spring of the year he turned seven, and Isokichi would reach the same age by the New Year. With their father away, no doubt his mother wanted Isokichi to get accustomed to working out on the sea as soon as possible so he could start helping Isaku. Having spent all his time fishing alone since his father had left, Isaku thought his brother would be little more than a millstone round his neck, yet he looked forward to being out on the water with him. He was proud to think that now he was teaching someone the ropes.
    At the shore they slid the boat toward the water. Isokichi braced his legs as he pushed. Isaku attached the oar and worked the boat away from the water’s edge. Their mother stood watching them for a short while before hurrying back to their house.
    Isokichi sat cross-legged in the bottom of the boat, a sparkle in his eyes and a relaxed look on his face. For him, being able to go out on the water to learn how to fish was a joy beyond words.
    â€˜Come over here,’ said Isaku. Making his brother grasp the oar, he put his own hand on top and moved the oar in the water.
    â€˜You work the oar with your arm, not your hand,’ said Isaku. He adjusted Isokichi’s feet and slapped him in the small of his back to get him into the right position. When they drew nearer to the foaming water around the rocks, Isaku took the oar from his brother’s hand and manoeuvred the boat himself.
    â€˜If you don’t know how to turn the prow to change direction, you’ll end up on the rocks. Keep your eyes on the way I work the oar.’ Isokichi nodded intently.
    Isaku stopped the boat and dropped anchor before fixing some bait to a hook and line, which he then dropped over the side. There was nothing but small fry to be caught, but they would be dried and stored to eat during winter. Whenever he felt a bite on the line, he would reel in the fish at just the right moment and seemed hardly ever to fail. Isokichi ran his hands over the little fish flapping around in the bottom of the boat.
    Isaku plied the boat from one area of rocks to another, letting Isokichi take over the oar along the way, rowing with his hand placed on top.
    From that day on, he spent his days with Isokichi out on the water. Isokichi did little more than work the oar and watch his older brother fish, but even