But since we sailed on an evening tide, we were once again to pass through most of the Inland Sea and the Thousand Islands by night. Watching our friends wave goodbye as we drew away from the docks, I did not realize that I was among the privileged number of foreign tourists who had seen Japan when that country still looked, in many ways, like a scene from The Mikado or Madame Butterfly. Our voyage to Hong Kong was a peaceful interlude after that orgy of sight-seeing in Japan. The sea was as smooth as glass and the skies were cloudless, and we lay around in the shade of an awning or leant on the deck rails to watch the many different kinds of sea-creatures that floated past us – the same squadrons of jellyfish of every colour, size and description; the same flying fish, porpoises, and Portuguese men-of-war; and, fathoms down, the same vast silvery shoals of unidentified fish, glimmering and flashing in those clear blue-green depths. It was a halcyon period, made the more memorable by the fact that it was accompanied throughout by its own theme song.
