Every Marine must be able to swim. This is established in boot camp, where everyone does increasingly difficult swimming tasks until they either can't succeed, or they reach the qualification level needed for their assigned job. There are four levels, Combat Water Survival Level 4 is the easiest, CWS1 is hardest. In boot camp I qualified up to CWS2, which was as much as I needed. That was a good thing, because I almost drowned doing it, and I doubt I can make it through CWS1.

Swim qualifications are only valid for two years, but most squadrons don't get their people re-qualified as they should. We got called out on that by higher command, so this morning over three-quarters of our enlisted personnel had to go to a pool on Camp Hanson. There is a pool on Futenma, the base where I live; but said pool is dry pending repairs right now.

There was a bus going to Hanson, but I caught a ride in a van belonging to a friend of mine. He didn't know the way, so we followed the bus driver. When we got to Hansen, we discovered the problem: the bus driver didn't know where the pool was either.

So we drove around, asking random pedestrians. That didn't work at all; half of them didn't know where the pool was, and the other half directed us to the motor pool.

We did get there on time, by using a navigation technique known to us motivated NCOs. It's also a algorithm used in computer science, known there as exhaustive search. There are only so many roads on Camp Kinser, and by driving them all we found the pool.

With almost two hundred people to process, they didn't have time for anything fancy. We all got to qualify as CWS4 and leave. I made sure to be in the very first stick.

Wearing cammies but no boots or other gear, we did a 25 meter swim in the shallow end to establish that weren't "non-swimmers" needing special attention. Then it was a three-meter jump into the water followed by a four-minute float, which could be accomplished by treading water, inflating clothing, back floats, whatever. I did all three just to amuse myself. Then I got bored and started cracking jokes, which almost drowned my friend Cpl McS_ because he started laughing and sucked in some water. Sorry, Mick, my bad. After time was up, we swam 25 meters in the deep end, got out, signed the roster, hit the locker room, filled up the van and went back to work. Fun times.

I have the good fortune to be from a family that thought it was important that I learn to swim, and a school that had a pool. As best as I could tell, all of our problem non-swimmers had grown up either outside the US, or in the inner city. I swim so nonchalantly, I have to remember that my skill is born of literally hundreds of hours of practice, which the struggling Marines never had.

The Corps is full of jokers though. One of the guys is from Puerto Rico, so he was getting hassled that "We know you can swim, how the hell else did you get to the recruiter's office?" He came back with "Sure I'm not a good swimmer- while you were sixteen and hanging out at Scout camp, I was meeting girls!" which was generally acclaimed as being a point for him.

As a last comment, after we finished, we all changed into dry clothing, of course. Then at noon it started raining and hasn't stopped since. When I got off work, I was just as wet as I'd been the moment I hopped out of the pool. That's Okinawa for you.

Posted by: Boviate at 04:20 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Here's how the Lord of the Rings should have happened, if the people involved were reasonable.

Hat tip to Boing Boing.

Posted by: Boviate at 05:27 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Yesterday we had a squadron party at Torii Beach, which is part of Torii Station, the only US Army base on Okinawa. It's a very nice beach, on the western coast, a twenty-minute drive from where I live.

I don't go to the beach much. Never did back in the States, and I've not done it here. I don't like beaches. Sand makes me itch, and the Evil One-Eyed Sky Demon causes me pain and eventual skin cancer.

But I need to show my face. It was a family affair, so people would be civil and not overly inebriated. We had the first weekend of decent weather in months, as the rainy season is ending. It was in the high 70s, with scattered cumulus clouds and a pleasant sea breeze. I missed the bus, so I got a taxi and went.

Just about everyone was there, with spouses and kids in tow. Several of the families set up tents for naptime and gear stowage, but there was so much excitement around that only the very littlest got any sleep. I'm sure there was plenty of crankiness later that night.

The squadron had rented three pavilions, an inflatable bouncy castle, and three XXL charcoal roasters. The cooking team began roasting three full-size pigs the night before, and they were quite tasty. In between bouts of porcine carnage, we used the nearby volleyball pit. It shaped up as O's vs E's, seven on seven. Sadly, the enlisted failed to hold up the honor of the proletariat; in matches against three different E teams, the O's outscored the E's with an aggregate of 45-7. A number of excuses were advanced as to our humiliating failure. My favorites were "They spent all their time in college playing stupid sports like this!", "Captain W_ and Lieutenant B_ are ringers!", and "They're not drinking enough!"

(N.B. Captain W_ is only 5' 8" or so, but was a starting cornerback at the Naval Academy. He can jump higher than anyone else in the squadron. Lt. B_ looks like a pale gorilla.)

Along with the volleyball, there was a dunk tank, with the Sergeant Major yelling insults at anyone who failed to hit the target. Come to think of it, he was pretty insulting to those that succeded, too. Naturally, he was using carefully moderated language, what with the young children around.

Then we had the pie auction. Seven whipped-cream pies, sold to the highest bidder, proceeds going to our Marine Corps Ball fund. The high bidder got to pick the target, and the CO solemnly swore that there would be no repercussions. The first couple of pies went for only $40 to $50, but the last two went for $180 and $230. (Note: irrational bidding. Must see if an economic prof wants to do a study.) I was very impressed that after the final pie was sold, the losing bidders dropped their $225 into the fund anyway.

I had brought my nice camera, and took lots of shots. I don't have a polarizing lens, which made things difficult, as lots of light reflected off the ocean. Plus the pie-tossing was inside a pavilion, so I had shadows on the faces and bright light behind. I was asked to make the photos available by several individuals, and also the officer responsible for the squadron website wanted some. So I think I'll burn a DVD or two of the ones that came out decently, and give the DVDs to the S-6. (Computer department in the squadron HQ.) They can check them out to people that want copies of photos, and also can put especially good ones online.

I'm sure many of you are interested too. I'll upload the photos overnight, and try to categorize them after work tomorrow.

And my SPF 45 mostly did the job. I only got burned on the back of my neck, I think because my camera strap rubbed the sunscreen off. I'm thinking of taking the strap off, as all it ever does is get in the way. I carry my camera in a sling pouch, so I don't wander around hanging it from my neck anyway.

Posted by: Boviate at 05:17 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Today, I had to stop by the Quality Assurance office to do some paperwork I'd never done before. I've just received my CDQAR stamp, which is the highest level of safety qualification available. I was excercising my new responsibilities by looking for a missing part. Tore the whole aircraft apart, didn't find it, I hope it fell out the window.

Anyway, so I'm trying to get this paperwork straight. In QA is Gunny S, who kind of likes me, and his wife was there to eat lunch with him. She doesn't make a habit of it, she's rarely at the squadron. She doesn't seem to know how the Corps works.

My paperwork isn't quite right, so Gunny says something like "No Boviate, you need to sign off the supervisor block too, then bring me another copy." "Aye Gunny," I said, and walked out.

As I was leaving, I heard Mrs. S start to tell her husband that he shouldn't be so mean to me. I smiled, since by Marine Corps standards, he was being the soul of courtesy. He would not have been out of line screaming at me, it's just he's not that kind of guy.

So I straighten out the papers, come back, present them to him. He scans them over and says "All right, looks good. That's all you needed." I straighten out of parade rest and start to turn to leave, and she whispers "You should apologize to him!" to her husband. My impish nature takes over, and I come to attention and say "Gunnery Sergeant! I do apologize for my failure to complete my task correctly the first time. I am also sorry I forced you to have to correct me. I will try to not fall short of your standards in the future, Gunnery Sergeant!"

He chortles, and says "See that you don't, Corporal. Dismissed!"

I take a back step, about face, and march myself out of the room. Mrs. S looked like she wasn't sure whether to be embarassed, angry, or amused. I escaped before she made up her mind.

Posted by: Boviate at 06:05 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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I was really looking forward to posting a surpise here. I was scheduled to go on an overnight trip to Iwo Jima this afternoon, returning tomorrow night. I'd walk the black sands, climb Mount Suribachi, and feel the history. For the Marine Corps, Iwo Jima is sacred ground.

But it was not to be. For reasons of "operational tempo" the trip was cancelled by higher headquarters. So it goes.

Posted by: Boviate at 11:02 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Most of you have academic experience, so I'm sure you'll find the following as enlightening as I did.

I understand it was presented at a meeting of the Annals of Improbable Research. The original article was by Doug Zongker, "Chicken Chicken Chicken: Chicken Chicken", Annals of Improbable Research, 12(5) September-October 2006, 16-21."

Posted by: Boviate at 10:26 PM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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So Friday morning, I'm looking forward to the weekend and going to Naha City's port for the city's annual Dragon Boat races. But Friday's assigned duty NCO for the barracks is not available. Some horse trading goes around to find a replacement, and *bam* I get volunteered.

It's a Friday night after a week of long workdays. Everyone just got paid. It's going to be a long night.

Anyway, much drinking and partying happens. I only have to exert my authority a couple of times, and we had to call PMO (cops) and an ambulance at about 0200, but hey, that's a Friday night in Okinawa for you. It all means that I manage to grab a two-hour nap overnight, and when I am relieved at 0730, I am dead tired. The races start at 0930, but I need sleep.

So sleep I accomplish, and when I get up, it's raining. I check the weather forecast. It's going to keep raining all day. It's not like I should be shocked, it is still the rainy season here. But Wednesday through Friday had been lovely, and I was hopeful.

But hey, may as well get out of the barracks. I grabbed my tripod, loaded my camera bag, signed the liberty logbook, and caught a taxi. There was some confusion as to my desitination, because the driver couldn't figure out "Naha dragon boat races" in English, and I couldn't get him to understand "Naha hari" either. Because, it's not "hari", it's "hârî". Not a Japanese word, but a Ryukuan word. And while I've been learning some Japanese, I don't know anything about proper Ryukuan pronunciation.

Miming paddling didn't do the trick either, but I always keep a pen and a bit of paper on me, so I sketched a dragon boat, and the driver's eyes lit up and he said "Hârî!" and I said "Hai, hai!" and off we went.

I got there and it was still raining. My camera bag has a cool little built-in raincoat that tucks into a pocket at the bottom and is pulled out to cover the whole bag in ripstop nylon water repellency. So I wandered around a bit.

The harborside park was in full carnival mode, with dozens of food stands, vicious competition between Orion and Kirin beer stands, and lots of sideshow games. There was a go-cart track, a bouncy castle, all the stuff you'd see at a county fair back in the states. Two stages had local entertainers showing off their musical chops, and throngs of people, well, thronged the place. Okinawa's kind of like Buffalo, in that no one cares about a little rain.

I bumped into my unit XO, who was trying to gather his scattered children to leave. From him I learned that the Marine boat had raced a good three hours earlier. Whoops. They'd come in second in their heat, and were not going to advance. Whoops again. I'd been wanting to take some photos of my friends competing, but clearly that was not to be.

The rain tapered off, and I managed to find a spot where I could take some decent photos. Three boats run in a heat; they head about 500 meters, turn around a bouy, and race back towards the start. The first race I got a little annoyed... there was this Okinawa dude with a big yellow flag in my way as the boats were coming down the homestretch. Then I realized that the flag was the victory flag, and that I'd lucked into a spot directly on the finish line. Serendipity strikes I suppose.

I photographed two heats, then abandoned my post to get some nutrition. Even when it's raining, Okinawa is hot, and one must stay hydrated. Plus, I'd never eaten breakfast. So I had some Kochakaden (lemon ice tea) and some Okinawa soba with pork. Delicious.

I next enjoyed some of the traditional music being played. There was a young woman in a kimono playing a sanshin and singing. I used my pocket camera to take some video of her. Next to me in the back of the crowd were two local gentlemen, one of about my age and one of a generation older. When they saw me recording, they became very excited and tried to talk to me in rapid-fire Japanese. I was trying to keep my camera steady, and they were talking fast, so all I got was that they seemed excited to see me doing what I was doing. Then the lady finished singing, the MC thanked her, she bowed and left the stage, cased her instrument, and circled the crowd, heading straight for me. I mean, sure, I didn't see anyone else filming, but my personality isn't that magnetic!

She arrived and started talking to the two, and to me, and all became clear. The young man was her boyfriend, the older man was her father, and they were excited that I had thought her performance worthy of recording. They wanted to see the footage. So I played it back, and they were thrilled, although I was kind of embarassed, because I missed the start of the song, and the camera was a little jittery. But I promised to email the boyfriend a copy of the video, and we parted among much bowing.

By this time the preliminary heats were over, and it was getting towards time for the playoffs. I found a beautiful spot near the turnaround bouys right up against the rope railing that kept people out of the water, and was getting all ready. No heads in the foreground for me this time! I felt a bump into my lower leg from behind. I looked down and there was this cute little kid trying to see past my legs. I'm not great at guessing children's ages, but he was probably four. On my other side was his sister, perhaps six. Behind me was their mother, terribly embarassed that her children had disturbed me.

I had a great spot all picked out, I was there first... but if two little kids want to see something exciting, I can deal with some heads in my foregrounds. I backed up a step, shoo'd the kids into my place, bowed to the now even-more embarassed mother, and took photos from behind.

I took some more photos of that first playoff round, but by then it was almost five o'clock. The sun doesn't set until seven, but with the clouds, my light was failing. So I packed my camera and walked out in search of a cab. This being Okinawa, they were in plentiful style; I rode home and called it a day.

Expect my photos to be on flickr "real soon now", as I need to finish marking up my Korean photos first.

Posted by: Boviate at 06:03 AM | No Comments | Add Comment
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I went downtown and bought a nice new telephoto zoom lens. I wanted to get a polarizing filter for it to reduce reflections off water, but the ones they had cost approximatly eight zillion dollars. Well, actually, Â¥88,600 which is in the vicinity of $80. That's a bit steep for a filter.

Down the street from the camera store was a DVD, game, and book shop. If an alien wanted to go fishing for me, that's the bait it'd use. I even found something I wanted: the Kino no Tabi movie. But it was a Region 2 DVD so I can't play it on my hardware. I dispise the region code system; it's a cartel's technique for preventing arbitrage (aka "free trade") and extracting rents.

Then I went to a nearby JUSCO and bought some sushi from their grocery section. I'd not brought any linguistic references, so I sort of guessed on what I was getting. It ended up being very good.

Posted by: Boviate at 07:35 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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