Maisu Log '26: The Mifune Bird, May 11
This bird was called mifune, and that bird over there was also called mifune. On board the Maisu, whenever a seabird swept past, someone was bound to yell, “Mifune!” What on earth was a mifune?
Maisu Log '26: Funeral Before Setting Sail, May 11
We all understood Wayne’s tears. We had given everything; we had failed, we had erred, we had endured, we had shared laughter, and we had encouraged, supported, and cared for one another. Most important of all, we were watched over by the spirits.
Maisu Log '26: Oh! The Southern Cross, May 8
The North Star is incredibly low now; I measure it with my hand and find it has already dropped below 11 degrees, hovering right around 10. That is less than half its altitude back home in Changbin.
Maisu Log '26: Hallucinations, May 5
I shake my head again and again, blinking hard to force the images away. I don’t want to see anything else. But God, I am tired. I am just so, so tired.
Maisu Log '26: Sing Your Song, April 30
I was fortunate enough to be part of Captain Sesario’s final ocean voyage. Though our paths crossed only briefly, I offer these humble recollections to honor the legacy of a great voyager, Sesario Sewralur.
Maisu Log '26: Celestial Theater, April 30
Just imagine: a river made of billions of endlessly bright stars, looking just like a cloud. How massive is this world, really?
Maisu Log '26: The Long Arrival at Okinawa, Apr 11
Finding the way step-by-step involves much hardship, but it allowed me to see Okinawa from an angle no tourist ever could. I saw the “smile” of Okinawa approaching from the sea to welcome us. This slow journey gave my heart the time it needed to fully experience the weight of “arrival.”
Maisu Log '26: A Canopy of Stars over the Miyako Strait, April 9
I asked him which star was Mailapaifang. He pointed to the one just off the North Star. Everything was visible—every single star I wanted to see was there, clear and bright on a cloudless sea with zero light pollution.
Maisu Log '26: Stormy Seas off Miyakojima, April 6
At this moment, the canoe became a world of the Satawal language. Once we successfully turned to the captain’s designated heading, the engine was cut. Most went to rest, leaving only a few to monitor our heading. We began to drift.
Maisu Log '25② Onboard Was Not the Original Plan, May 9-10
It was such a surreal sight; I had no idea the sea was this busy at night. The massive ships were lit up like sea monsters having a party while the rest of the world slept. Or, because it was so quiet, they looked like a slow, glowing migration.
