Catherine Price by 101 Places Not to See Before You Die
Authors: 101 Places Not to See Before You Die
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by occasional pieces of human-made flotsam: plastic bottles, broken bits of Styrofoam, and a shocking number of widowed flip-flops. Its total land area is about 0.01 square miles.
When I visited the reef on a two-week marine biology expedition from the Line Islands to Hawaii, the first thing I noticed as our boat approached was a shipwreck washed up on the spit’s opposite shore. At first this seemed cool—a shipwreck! How fun! Then I remembered that I was on a boat. I also noticed the mood of our captain, who was becoming increasingly nervous as we neared the spit. Unable to drop anchor—he didn’t want to damage any coral—he was guiding us back and forth along a line, motoring the ship a safe distance away from land, killing the engine, letting us drift back toward shore, and then starting the motor again. He did this for sixteen hours.
Meanwhile, the marine biologists in charge of the expedition decided that our proximity to the reef was the perfect occasion for a new evening activity: shark baiting. Who cared that it was beginning to storm? Using the remnants of a tuna they had caught several days before, the crew spent the night dangling chunks of flesh off the side of the boat, tempting sharks—of which there were many—to approach our boat and jump through the horizontal rain as they tried to snap the fish off the line.
By the following morning, the captain’s nerves were shot. He suggested leaving, but the marine biologists had other things in mind. Namely, snorkeling. To avoid tempting the sharks, we went out in large inflatable rafts, leaned out over the edge, and stuck our heads in the water.
Courtesy of the author
Which brings me to the second reason not to visit: Kingman Reef is beautiful. Stick your head underwater and you’ll be treated to the sight of bright corals, giant clams, and countless fish; I even caught sight of a camouflaged octopus hiding in the seaweed. According to marine biologists, Kingman Reef is one of perhaps fifty reefs worldwide that have been preserved in such a pristine condition, free from human interference and pollution. The result is a spectacular sight, but also means that, for the reef’s own sake, we shouldn’t go see it.
Chapter 25 Naked Sushi
D o your favorite things in the world include fish, seaweed, and sex? Do you love sushi but wish it could be a little rawer?
Then find a restaurant that offers nyotaimori . Literally translated as “female body presentation,” nyotaimori is colloquially known as “naked sushi”: raw fish served on a nude woman.
After stripping down and shaving off all extraneous body hair, young, nubile models wash themselves in unscented soap, lie down on a table, and allow chefs to cover them in sushi, seaweed, and a few strategically placed flowers. Wheeled into a banquet room, they then spend several hours staring blankly at the ceiling as diners ogle their bodies and poke them with chopsticks. In places with particularly strict hygiene laws—not to mention interesting interpretations of what qualifies as sexy—the models are covered in saran wrap.
To an outsider, nyotaimori might just seem like an example of sitophila—the desire to eat foods off another person’s body. But fans insist it’s actually a matter of taste; by sitting for a half hour on a woman’s bare stomach, they explain, your tuna roll is heated to body temperature. According to their logic, this allows its flavors to expand and prevents the unpleasant shock that comes when the fish is too cold. One could argue that since belly buttons are not the most efficient chafers—that’s why God invented heat lamps—the true appeal is less about temperature than titillation. Fair enough, say its fans. Fewer people means a better view.
Nyotaimori , which started in Japan, has been banned in China for “insult[ing] people’s moral quality.” So instead the phenomenon spread east. Nyotaimori bars can be found in cities including Los Angeles, Chicago, New York,
When I visited the reef on a two-week marine biology expedition from the Line Islands to Hawaii, the first thing I noticed as our boat approached was a shipwreck washed up on the spit’s opposite shore. At first this seemed cool—a shipwreck! How fun! Then I remembered that I was on a boat. I also noticed the mood of our captain, who was becoming increasingly nervous as we neared the spit. Unable to drop anchor—he didn’t want to damage any coral—he was guiding us back and forth along a line, motoring the ship a safe distance away from land, killing the engine, letting us drift back toward shore, and then starting the motor again. He did this for sixteen hours.
Meanwhile, the marine biologists in charge of the expedition decided that our proximity to the reef was the perfect occasion for a new evening activity: shark baiting. Who cared that it was beginning to storm? Using the remnants of a tuna they had caught several days before, the crew spent the night dangling chunks of flesh off the side of the boat, tempting sharks—of which there were many—to approach our boat and jump through the horizontal rain as they tried to snap the fish off the line.
By the following morning, the captain’s nerves were shot. He suggested leaving, but the marine biologists had other things in mind. Namely, snorkeling. To avoid tempting the sharks, we went out in large inflatable rafts, leaned out over the edge, and stuck our heads in the water.
Courtesy of the author
Which brings me to the second reason not to visit: Kingman Reef is beautiful. Stick your head underwater and you’ll be treated to the sight of bright corals, giant clams, and countless fish; I even caught sight of a camouflaged octopus hiding in the seaweed. According to marine biologists, Kingman Reef is one of perhaps fifty reefs worldwide that have been preserved in such a pristine condition, free from human interference and pollution. The result is a spectacular sight, but also means that, for the reef’s own sake, we shouldn’t go see it.
Chapter 25 Naked Sushi
D o your favorite things in the world include fish, seaweed, and sex? Do you love sushi but wish it could be a little rawer?
Then find a restaurant that offers nyotaimori . Literally translated as “female body presentation,” nyotaimori is colloquially known as “naked sushi”: raw fish served on a nude woman.
After stripping down and shaving off all extraneous body hair, young, nubile models wash themselves in unscented soap, lie down on a table, and allow chefs to cover them in sushi, seaweed, and a few strategically placed flowers. Wheeled into a banquet room, they then spend several hours staring blankly at the ceiling as diners ogle their bodies and poke them with chopsticks. In places with particularly strict hygiene laws—not to mention interesting interpretations of what qualifies as sexy—the models are covered in saran wrap.
To an outsider, nyotaimori might just seem like an example of sitophila—the desire to eat foods off another person’s body. But fans insist it’s actually a matter of taste; by sitting for a half hour on a woman’s bare stomach, they explain, your tuna roll is heated to body temperature. According to their logic, this allows its flavors to expand and prevents the unpleasant shock that comes when the fish is too cold. One could argue that since belly buttons are not the most efficient chafers—that’s why God invented heat lamps—the true appeal is less about temperature than titillation. Fair enough, say its fans. Fewer people means a better view.
Nyotaimori , which started in Japan, has been banned in China for “insult[ing] people’s moral quality.” So instead the phenomenon spread east. Nyotaimori bars can be found in cities including Los Angeles, Chicago, New York,
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