On Aug. 10, on the eastern shore of Izu Peninsula, the usually laid-back city of Ito was showing signs of hustle and bustle. Near the beach, street stalls served traditional snacks and drinks while other vendors delighted children with goldfish, candy and brightly colored masks. Further into town, locals and visitors gathered and waited along the streets in anticipation of the city's pride and joy — the parade celebrating its annual three-day summer festival.

It seemed like any other Japanese summer festival, with taiko drumming, floating lanterns and giant fireworks displays, except this particular parade did not begin at a shrine with men bearing a mikoshi on their shoulders. Instead, the preparations took place outside the Ito City tourism convention center, where girls in leotards practiced unicycle routines and marching bands tuned their instruments.

When the parade began to move, a group of men and women in pristine sailor outfits pulled out the main attraction: a Lilliputian replica of a 17th-century sailing ship with a slightly bemused Englishman in period costume at its helm.