We sail towards Mt Fuji, the old Chinese wooden junk creaking at every turn and every caress of each wave. I have never known such peace and quiet. The water gently ripples against our hull, and we wait for the beautiful view, and the chance to renew our vows.
Not even a monsoon could stop us now. Yuko has been on deck painting Mt Fuji's beauty, and its calming spiritual strength and blessing seems to have
guided us well. If this were ever to be my last entry, I would like all to know it is one of the happiest,most serene moments of our lives.
Postscriptum, the tsunami arrived at
| 14:46:23 JST (UTC+09:00) 11 March 2011 |
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