Читать книгу Empire in Waves. A Political History of Surfing онлайн

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The Japanese, conversely, “don’t write too often,” Chernoff told the USIA, and when they did it was “usually . . . because they were unable to find one of our six water fountains or because the lines were a bit long and exhausting.”⁶⁶ There were, to be sure, Japanese displeased with the American participation in the fair, such as the students who organized as the Joint Struggle to Crush Expo and the Japan-U.S. Security Treaty.⁶⁷ But most Japanese appeared to respond favorably to the American pavilion, and opportunities to strengthen U.S.-Japanese ties abounded. One of these came from Tamio Katori. Katori was a surfer from Kanagawa Prefecture who made Maiami Beach, near Chigasaki, his local break. He visited the American exhibits and was deeply impressed with the surfboards displayed there. Katori wrote to U.S. officials, asking whether he could purchase the boards for his surfing club once the fair ended. To demonstrate the seriousness he attached to the request, he also telephoned the Americans and sought them out during a second visit. Katori wished to further spread surfing in Japan, and the boards, he told the Americans, would not only popularize the sport but also contribute to what he called “the goodwill between both countries.”⁶⁸ Three of the thirteen boards had been lent by Bob White and would need to be returned to the Virginia Beach shaper, but the remaining ten had been purchased by the USIA. For the United States, concurring with Katori’s request would be an effective means of disposing of a bulky exhibit while contributing to the globalization of this now most American of pleasurable pastimes and fostering transpacific amity. It was a no-brainer. The boards were sold.