"We are in high latitudes for once—it is near the middle of the year (though you’d never guess it from the temperature)—and the day is long," Jack said, stepping around to a new position where he could get a clear view of the sun rising over the mountains of Japan. The water of the harbor was glancing light into his eyes so that it looked like a sheet of hammered copper. A longboat was clearly silhouetted on it, headed their way. "Damme, these Japanese are punctual—it is not like Manila."