Only after Barbara had left did it occur to me that she had really wanted to stay on board, even without bunks or conveniences. I suddenly realized that my actions must have revealed my misgivings about the family, their adaptability and willingness to “take it.”
The conference with the sampan owner was protracted. His boat, badly holed, had been hauled up on the beach, a mute testimonial to the ruggedness of the Phoenix, which was barely scratched.
The victim readily admitted his responsibility. He had been warned to stand clear and had ignored the warning. On the other hand, it was the Phoenix that had been launched. Otherwise he wouldn’t have been there. If he hadn’t come he wouldn’t have lost his sampan. Obviously, it was nobody’s fault—it was the will of the gods. However, since the captain of the Phoenix was a rich man—
I hastened to correct that statement.
—Well, anyway, richer than the sampan owner, and since this was an auspicious day when everybody should be happy, perhaps a sympathy offering....
“How much sympathy would the sampan owner need?” I inquired cautiously.
This required a long conference, but it came out to 2,000 yen—about $5.50 American. I announced that I could be that sympathetic, and the offering was duly made. With mutual expressions of esteem and satisfaction the conference broke up, and we moved on to the evening’s festivities.
This party, for which preparations had been under way for weeks, cast me in the dual role of guest and host. As guest, I was given the seat of honor; as host, I was expected to foot the bill. I hasten to add that I was by no means being victimized; it is the custom of the country. Besides, the whole affair came to less than a hundred dollars, including a bonus to each worker in proportion to his work.
It is also worth mentioning that Yotsuda-san never so much as hinted that a bonus should be given to him or that he should be paid more than the contract called for. This, in spite of dire predictions by fellow Americans—“old Japan hands”—who had warned me gloomily throughout that I’d be “taken for a ride.” What they failed to recognize was that Mr. Yotsuda was a completely honest man.
Late that night, after the party, Ted and I relaxed on deck, listening to the rustling of the tide as it slipped gently past the hull. Our first night aboard our yacht! In fact, I mused ruefully, it was the first night I had ever spent aboard any yacht. Ahead of us lay an unknown future but here, tonight, lying on deck and watching the stars overhead swing slowly in gentle arcs, I was at peace.