I was promised that my journey to Fukue — the largest of the Goto Islands west of Kyushu — would be an uneventful one. My berth, a simple bunk with a matt screen for privacy, was comfortable, and the gentle rocking of the ferry as it crossed the Genkai Sea, combined with a midnight departure, sent me quickly to sleep.
But a 4 a.m. alarm cried "Awake!" as we approached Uku, the northernmost of the Goto Islands. Bleary eyed, I watched the first passengers depart, expensive fishing bags and excited chatter distinguishing the weekenders from the local residents. "The best catch of the season is to be had in Uku," called one fisherman to another still aboard the ferry. This boast was dismissed with a wave and a grunt, and the man aboard slipped back inside to sleep. I followed suit and the ferry departed once more.
The alarm announced three more stops before I emerged again. At a little after 7 a.m. the sun was still rising, and my surroundings were apparent for the first time since leaving the lights of Fukuoka.