Bringing green tea to the tables of the West

Born in 1828 into a Nagasaki family whose rapeseed oil business stretched back to the 17th century, Oura Kei entered a world where women rarely ventured from traditional roles. Yet, throughout her storied life, she moved among Japanese and foreign traders and dignitaries, experiencing both grand successes and heartbreaking losses. Today, she is remembered as one of Nagasaki’s Three Heroic Women for her pioneering role in the tea export trade.

Kei grew up in a lively household filled with the comings and goings of men involved in her father’s trade. While she was still a child, her father adopted the second son of a fellow merchant and betrothed him to Kei, intending for him to take over the family business. Sadly, the young man died when Kei was just nine years old. Not long after, Kei’s mother also died, and then the family’s fortunes declined. As if that wasn’t enough, in 1843, a fire swept through their neighborhood, destroying their home and plunging them deeper into hardship.

The following year, her father tried again to secure an heir through marriage to Kei. He adopted another promising lad, this one a student of rangaku, Dutch learning, who had come to Nagasaki to study Western sciences. He arranged a second engagement for Kei. But the day after their wedding, a disappointed Kei turned the young man out of the house. She remained single for the rest of her life.

By her early thirties, Oura Kei had taken over the family business. Years earlier, she collaborated with the interpreter Shinagawa Fujijuro to arrange her first tea export deal with Carl Julius Textor, a German merchant at Dejima. Together, they arranged for Ureshino tea to be shipped to Britain, America, and Arabia. This was a bold venture at a time when Japan’s trade with the outside world was limited and heavily regulated, and it laid the foundation for what would become a profitable chapter in her trading career.

In 1859, just as Japan began opening to foreign commerce, a 19-year-old British merchant named William John Alt arrived in Dejima. After inspecting samples of Ureshino tea, he placed a massive order with Kei and Fujijuro for 6,000 kilograms (13,227 pounds). Ureshino alone could not supply such a volume, so Kei traveled across Kyushu, visiting tea farms and buying as much as she could from each. Through her determination and perseverance, she succeeded in gathering the full six tons. The huge shipment was a success. With the profits, Kei rebuilt her family home in Nagasaki’s trading district and expanded her operations. 

The momentum of this prosperity came to an abrupt halt in 1861 with the outbreak of the American Civil War, which froze trans-Pacific trade. When peace returned in 1865, exports resumed, and by the following year, Nagasaki’s tea trade reached its peak, as did Kei’s career.

This boom, however, was short-lived. Yokohama was fast overtaking Nagasaki’s position in overseas trade, and with competition from the rich tea fields of Shizuoka, both the port’s importance and Kei’s tea trade dwindled.

Betrayal

In June 1871, a Kumamoto samurai named Toyama approached Oura Kei with a proposal to supply 90 tons of tobacco to Alt & Company, with her serving as guarantor. He presented documents that seemed official, complete with a seal and a co-signer, but were in fact clever forgeries. Kei’s former partner, interpreter Shinagawa Fujijuro, urged her to accept the deal. Kei signed the contract.

Alt & Company advanced Toyama 3,000 ryo (about USD 2.5 million today), but the tobacco never arrived. Toyama had absconded after using the funds to settle personal debts. Kei and Alt’s Nagasaki representative spent months searching for him. She was relentless, petitioning Kumamoto officials and even appealing to the head of Toyama’s clan, actions that drew criticism from one samurai for being “well outside appropriate boundaries.” Such boldness was hardly in line with the expectations for women of that era.

In January 1872, Alt & Company filed a lawsuit against Kei, Fujijuro, and Toyama. Kei brought her own case against Toyama. Ten months before the court issued its final verdict, the English Consul Marcus Flowers wrote, “I understand Miss Oura Kei has sufficient means, and as it was solely and entirely upon her guarantee that the money was advanced upon this contract, I must beg you will kindly press her for immediate payment.”

Although the court acknowledged Kei’s lack of direct wrongdoing, in keeping with Consul Flowers’s comment, it held her responsible for the 3,000 ryo advance, along with costs and damages. Toyama was sentenced to ten years in prison, while Fujijuro, shielded by his samurai status, repaid only a portion. Kei’s reputation was shattered. The Oura family business collapsed, and debt collectors seized her possessions.

Working till the end

Although her fortune was lost, Oura Kei retained her dignity. In June 1879, when former US President Ulysses S. Grant visited Nagasaki during his world tour, Kei boarded his ship as an official guest of state. Among the assembled dignitaries, which included prefectural governors, she was the only woman.

In January of the following year, Kei partnered with another Nagasaki merchant, Sano, to purchase the decommissioned navy warship Takao-maru. After being refitted for commercial use, it became their private trading ship, allowing Kei to expand her business. At that time, Nagasaki’s export market had become dominated by Frederick Ringer’s Holme, Ringer & Co., whose company exported not just tea, but coal, munitions, wax, and seafood. Kei faced formidable competition.

Nevertheless, the Takao-maru allowed her to maintain a presence in the export trade, and through unflagging perseverance and savvy negotiations, she succeeded in repaying all her debts. But this victory came at a price. By 1884, her health had begun to fail.

Meanwhile, Nagasaki Prefectural Governor Ishida Eikichi, a former member of the Kaientai, petitioned the Meiji government to honor Kei for her contributions. Ishida had belonged to the same reformist circle as Sakamoto Ryoma, who had founded the Kaientai in 1865 as a trading company and private naval militia. Kei had been personally acquainted with both of these influential men. On April 5, the governor received a telegram announcing that the award had been granted. A messenger brought the news to the Oura household the following day.

In recognition of her pioneering role in Japan’s tea export trade, the Meiji government awarded Oura Kei an official commendation for meritorious service and a monetary prize of 20 yen (USD 350). She passed away just days later at the age of 56.

We cannot help but admire Kei, who in her short life broke barriers, overcame terrible setbacks, and left her mark on history as a trailblazer for women in Japanese commerce.

The post Oura Kei—Unstoppable Pioneering Tea Merchant first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

A Brief History of (Nearly) Forgotten Island Nation

I wrote a detailed history of the Ryukyu Kingdom here; this article offers a shorter version.

For 450 years, Okinawa was the seat of the refined Ryukyu Kingdom, a Chinese tributary, and a pivotal hub of East Asian trade. Strategically positioned at the crossroads of Japan, China, and Southeast Asia, the Ryukyu Islands became a major entrepôt, attracting trading ships from Japan, Korea, and as far south as Java. Renowned for their diplomacy, hospitality, and peaceful nature, the Ryukyu people developed a rich, cosmopolitan culture, turning their island paradise into a repository of treasures and ideas from foreign lands.

Today, Okinawa Prefecture consists of 160 islands, 49 inhabited, stretching 400 kilometers (250 miles) from north to south and 1,000 km (620 miles) from east to west. The prefecture is divided into two main island chains: the central Okinawa Islands and the southern Sakishima Islands. The Sakishima Islands are further subdivided into smaller archipelagos: the Miyako Islands and the Yaeyama Islands. 

Agricultural Development and the Aji

The organization of the kingdom began in the 11th century, when the cultivation of rice and foxtail millet spread to the central Ryukyus, giving rise to an agricultural society. Local chieftains, or aji, emerged to rule farming communities from gusuku, fortified hilltop castles. Over time, the more powerful aji expanded their territories, accumulated wealth, and
led bands of armed retainers.

These regional leaders eventually formed loose confederations that divided Okinawa Island into three polities: Hokuzan in the north, Chuzan in the center, and Nanzan in the south. While Hokuzan had fertile farmland, Chuzan and Nanzan grew more prosperous through international trade, importing ceramics and exporting goods such as sulfur and green turban shells, valued for their use in mother-of-pearl inlay. This early trade cast only a faint shadow of the flourishing cosmopolitan kingdom Ryukyu would later become.

The Rise of Satto, King of Chuzan (reigned 1345-1395)—Official Trade with China Begins

In 1349, a young local governor named Satto seized control of the central region of Chuzan and proclaimed himself king. His rise coincided with major upheavals in East Asia: the Mongol Empire was collapsing, Japanese pirates roamed the seas attacking trading ships and coastal ports, and a former beggar, Zhu Yuanzhang, was on his way to conquering China. After capturing Nanjing in 1356, Zhu went on to declare himself the first emperor of the Ming dynasty in 1368.

To the Chinese, all foreign peoples were considered “barbarians” who must submit to the divinely mandated Chinese emperor. As such, in 1372, Chinese emissaries arrived in Okinawa to establish a tributary relationship. King Satto responded by sending envoys to China, who returned with a royal seal and documents recognizing him as the legitimate ruler of Chuzan. This began formal trade relations with China—a relationship that would last for 500 years and have a profound impact on Okinawan culture.

Trade with China brought prosperity and cultural exchange. Okinawa sent goods such as sulfur and textiles, while the Chinese sent ceramics, ironware, and books. Young Okinawan nobles traveled to Nanjing to study, as it was understood that “barbarian” nations had much to learn from China—and learn they did. The students mastered the Chinese language, Confucian philosophy, ethics, history, and poetry. 

Both the tribute envoys and these students’ mastery of Chinese court etiquette earned them such distinction that, in later years, one emperor honored the king with a tablet inscribed with “The Land of Propriety,” acknowledging the refinement and decorum of the Ryukyuan people.

The First King of Ryukyu, Sho Hashi (Reigned 1422-1439)

King Satto died in 1395, leaving the throne to his son, Bunei. However, in 1407, a young aji named Hashi led a rebellion, ousted Bunei, and took the throne. Taking the name Sho Hashi, he unified Okinawa’s three polities—Hokuzan, Nanzan, and Chuzan—founding the Ryukyu Kingdom. He remodeled Shuri Castle, originally built in the 13th century, after China’s Forbidden City. For the next 450 years, the castle stood as the kingdom’s political center and a symbol of its strength and connection with China.

Chinese-educated officials guided the kingdom’s administration, strengthening diplomatic and trade ties with China. The capital, Shuri, prospered as luxury goods from Southeast Asia were funneled through the port of Naha and traded with China, Korea, and Japan. The savvy Ryukyuans, avoiding conflict and lacking military power, relied on diplomacy and cultural refinement to secure their place in regional networks.

Naha grew into a bustling port. Ceramics, lacquerware, textiles, spices, medicinal herbs, Chinese brocade, coins, books, and even exotic animals, like parrots and peacocks, flowed through its docks. While the Shuri elites flourished, much of the population remained poor. Inspired by imported luxuries they could not afford, Okinawan peasants created bashofu, a fine gauze woven from the fibers of banana plants, well-suited to the island’s tropical climate. Kasuri, an intricate dyed textile technique from the Indies, was adopted and refined, as well as tie-dyeing methods. Musical instruments and dance forms from abroad also took root, shaping Ryukyuan culture. 

Despite the growing prosperity of the capital, life for the average islander was hard. To cope, communities developed a tradition of mutual aid and cooperation, helping one another in any way they could. Known as yuimaru, this deep community spirit remains a cornerstone of Okinawan culture.

Through the reigns of Sho Hashi and his successors, the Ryukyu Kingdom evolved from a fragmented island society into a powerful and culturally rich trading nation, with the magnificent Shuri Castle as its heart.

New Agricultural Products

In 1606, an Okinawan sailor brought sweet potatoes back from China and planted them in his yard, unwittingly altering the course of the islands’ economy. Within 15 years, this hardy, high-yield crop became a staple across the Ryukyu Islands.

A second major crop arrived in 1623 when an envoy to China returned with sugarcane slips. The introduction of sugar—a prized luxury in Japan—led to profitable trade with the Satsuma domain in southern Kyushu. Together, sweet potatoes and sugarcane transformed the kingdom’s agricultural economy, strengthening food security and driving trade.

The Rise of the “Lords of the Southern Islands”—Shimadzu Rule (1609-1872)

In the late 12th century, Japan’s first shogun, Minamoto no Yoritomo, appointed Shimadzu Tadahisa as ruler of southern Kyushu, granting him the title “Lord of Satsuma” and the honorary title “Lord of the Southern Islands.” Though the latter title faded into obscurity, it would resurface with weighty consequences centuries later.

When Tokugawa Ieyasu unified Japan and became shogun in 1603, he recognized Ryukyu’s strategic value—both as a buffer against European powers like Spain, which had seized the Philippines in 1571, and as a covert channel for trade with the Ming. In 1609, Ieyasu’s son ordered the Shimadzu clan of Satsuma to conquer the Ryukyu Kingdom. 

The peace-loving islanders were no match for the battle-hardened Shimadzu samurai, armed with Western matchlock muskets. Shuri Castle fell within two months, and the Ryukyuan king was taken in chains to Satsuma, present-day Kagoshima.

Though Ryukyu was now under Satsuma’s control, the Shimadzu preserved the appearance of independence to protect access to Chinese trade. The king was reinstated, tribute missions to the Ming court continued, and outwardly, little seemed changed. But Ryukyu’s autonomy was lost, and the bulk of its wealth now flowed into Satsuma’s coffers.

Subjugated Ryukyu

To keep Ryukyu’s puppet status hidden from China, the Shimadzu clan enforced strict secrecy. Japanese writing was concealed, and if a Satsuma man was addressed in Japanese by a Chinese official, he had to feign ignorance. Okinawans were banned from adopting Japanese names, dress, or customs—a policy that, ironically, helped preserve Ryukyuan culture from assimilation.

Under Shimadzu rule, Chinese cultural influence continued to shape Okinawa. New traditions emerged, such as ishigantō stones placed at T-junctions to ward off evil spirits, kamekō-baka turtleback family crypts, and shīsā lions guarding the sides of residential entrances. From the Meiji Era (1868-1912), shīsā also began appearing on rooftops.

While profiting from Ryukyu’s trade with China, the Shimadzu placed heavy burdens on the kingdom. In addition to demanding frequent diplomatic missions to Edo, they imposed steep taxes. The Ryukyu government, in turn, passed these costs onto the Sakishima Islands through a poll tax.

Instituted in 1638 and lasting until 1903, the tax required all adults between the ages of 15 and 50 to pay in rice and cloth, regardless of their ability to produce. Quotas were based on the population of each village, placing a disproportionate strain on farmers. To prevent organized resistance, the kingdom forbade the migration of islanders.

The Shimadzu also outlawed weapons—a policy some historians link to the development of Okinawan martial arts. Locals adapted Chinese ti into a system of self-defense that became karate, meaning “empty hand.” Originally practiced in secret, karate emphasized respect, self-discipline, self-control, and the principle of avoiding conflict, qualities easily understood within the context of Ryukyu’s history and culture.

The Assimilation of the Ryukyu Kingdom and the Meiji Era (1868-1912)

In 1864, the Ryukyuan king received investiture from China for the last time, marking the end of a 500-year tradition. Meanwhile, Japan stood on the cusp of radical change. In 1867, the Meiji Emperor ascended the throne, ending 750 years of feudalism and ushering in an era of rapid modernization and territorial consolidation. 

Japan quickly adopted Western models for industry, military organization, and education. Feudal domains were replaced by prefectures, and lords gave way to governors. In 1871, the Meiji government declared the Ryukyu Kingdom a Japanese domain. Eight years later, it was annexed and renamed Okinawa Prefecture. Japanese was made the official language, local dialects were banned, and schools adopted the standard national curriculum. Students caught speaking the Ryukyu language were publicly shamed.

Many Okinawans who moved to mainland Japan concealed their origins to avoid prejudice. They were often stereotyped as unsophisticated country folk, while Okinawans, in turn, looked upon the inhabitants of the Sakishima Islands as even more “backward.” The Sakishima Islanders were treated as lesser subjects; they still carried the burden of the poll tax, and their islands were now being used as penal colonies for Okinawan convicts.

The Militarization of Okinawa

From the perspective of the Meiji Imperial Army, the Ryukyu Islands were a critical link between Formosa (the Japanese colony of Taiwan) and mainland Japan. Yet, Okinawans were considered unfit for military service as most adult men fell below the minimum height and weight requirements. The older generation vehemently opposed militarization, fearing it would invite attacks. Unlike the samurai of the mainland, Okinawans had no history of combat; they were peace-loving traders and diplomats, not warriors.

However, after Japan’s victory in the Russo-Japanese War of 1905, Okinawans were drafted into the military, and fitness programs were introduced across the islands. The towns that produced the most recruits were honored. Military leaders sought to instill a fanatic spirit in the islanders to compensate for their small stature. 

WWII—The Battle of Okinawa

By February 1944, with Allied forces advancing toward Japan, Okinawa stood directly in their path, a final buffer to delay an attack on the main islands. In anticipation of invasion, civilians were conscripted to build defenses, soldiers seized homes, and centuries-old pines lining Okinawa’s highways were stripped away. 

On April 1, 1945, American forces landed near Kadena, about a third of the way up Okinawa Island. To their surprise, they encountered little resistance and quickly advanced to the eastern coast, splitting the island. Civilians fled north, unprotected and terrified by Imperial propaganda warning of American atrocities. By May 5, the northern half of the island fell under American control. 

Meanwhile, General Ushijima, the top Imperial commander, had made his headquarters beneath Shuri Castle. His strategy was to draw the American forces under Shuri’s craggy heights, unleash a powerful crossfire, and hold them off until reinforcements could arrive from the mainland.

As American troops advanced, the fighting intensified into one of the fiercest artillery battles of the war. Though they reached the castle, its 500-year-old walls held firm. Offshore, kamikaze pilots from Kyushu attacked the American fleet, causing damage but failing to disrupt operations. On May 24, the battleship USS Mississippi opened fire on Shuri. For three days, it shelled the fortress until the once-magnificent ancient castle was reduced to ruins, its formidable walls crumbled into rubble.

On May 31, General Ushijima abandoned his headquarters beneath Shuri and relocated to a cave on the southern coast. Although the retreating Japanese fought with unparalleled ferocity from cave to cave, organization and discipline had disintegrated. The Imperial forces chose death over surrender, but with utter disregard for the civilians trapped among them.

Terrified locals, including the wounded and sick, sought refuge in caves, but these sanctuaries offered little safety. Japanese troops often took over the caves, forcing civilians out or using them as sniper positions, drawing American fire.

Naha fell on June 13. In the early hours of June 21, General Ushijima and his chief of staff, facing the humiliation of defeat, went to the ledges overlooking the southern sea, saluted the emperor in distant Tokyo, and took their own lives.

War’s Tragic Toll

The Battle of Okinawa inflicted immense suffering on civilians, who accounted for the majority of the casualties, more than those of both American and Japanese troops combined. Indoctrinated by the Imperial Army, Okinawans were taught that it was more honorable to die than face the “shame” of capture. Civilians were often issued two grenades—one to kill the enemy and the other to take their own lives.

Strict military control and relentless propaganda fostered an atmosphere of fear. Anyone caught speaking English or their local dialect was executed for suspected espionage. Those urging surrender were killed. Civilians were warned of torture, rape, and death if captured. As American troops advanced, these warnings triggered mass suicides. Soldiers instructed families to avoid capture at all costs, with mothers urged to kill their children and then themselves rather than fall into enemy hands.

Survivor accounts reveal the horror. In one case, Mr. Komine recalled his family forming a circle as his father prepared to execute them. He watched in horror as his father bludgeoned his mother and siblings before he was struck. After the killings, his father hanged himself from a tree. Against all odds, Mr. Komine was rescued by American troops and survived. 

Despite the widespread fear, many civilians hiding in caves were eventually driven out by hunger or desperation. Bracing for poison or brutal treatment, they were astonished to be given water, food, and medical care by American soldiers. Okinawa remained under US occupation after the war until it was returned to Japan in 1972. 

Okinawa’s Ongoing Struggles

Government policies have long prioritized the welfare and economic growth of mainland Japan over Okinawa, leaving the prefecture with a legacy of occupation, repression, and militarization. Today, critics argue that Okinawa continues to bear a disproportionate burden for the mainland’s interests, particularly through the continued presence of US military bases.

Okinawa’s poverty rate stands at approximately 35%, double the national average, with per capita income about 20% lower. The prefecture also records Japan’s highest rates of unemployment, irregular employment, and single-parent households, along with the second-highest divorce rate.

Educational outcomes remain troubling. Okinawa consistently ranks lowest on national academic achievement tests for students in grades six through nine and has the country’s lowest rate of university enrollment.

The elderly face acute financial hardship. Roughly 6.2% of residents aged 65 and older receive no pension—about twice the national average. Among those who do, the average monthly benefit is just ¥51,864, the lowest in Japan.

A Beacon of Resilience

Despite, or perhaps because of, a history of economic hardship and adversity, Okinawans are renowned for their kindness, resilience, and longevity. Women, in particular, enjoy an average life expectancy of 87.44 years, evoking the ancient image of the Ryukyu Islands as a mythical “land of the immortals.”

Designated a Blue Zone—one of several regions in the world known for exceptional longevity—Okinawa exemplifies the benefits of a balanced, traditional lifestyle. Residents maintain low stress levels, strong family and community ties, and active lives well into their 80s and beyond. Their diet, rich in locally sourced and nutrient-dense foods like sweet potatoes and other plant-based staples, is said to help reduce the risks of cancer, heart disease, and dementia, diseases common in Western populations.

The Okinawan way of life is rooted in a deep sense of community, or yuimaru, and the concept of ikigai, a profound sense of purpose. These cultural pillars, combined with physical activity and a healthy diet, have been praised as key factors in their well-being.

Though Okinawa has faced myriad challenges, its people continue to inspire with their warmth, deep-rooted mutual care, and positive outlook. Their enduring vitality and joie de vivre stand as a testament to the strength of their culture.

The post The Ryukyu Kingdom’s Rise and Ruin first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

Treasure ships that brought goods, wealth, and culture

When I visited the port of Shukunegi on Sado Island a couple of years ago, I spent time at a disused elementary school that had been repurposed as a folk museum. I was fascinated by the relics that filled the old classrooms from floor to ceiling and the plentiful information about a lucrative trade route that flourished in the 18th and 19th centuries.

That trade had been quite a bit more than a difficult get-rich-quick enterprise. It changed history.

Kitamaebune Trade

From the mid-Edo Period until the 1880s, Kitamaebune ships were both conduits for trade and, as a consequence, widespread cultural interchange. These sturdy wooden vessels, with their distinctive square sails, were not just cargo vessels — they were floating trading houses.

The shipmasters would buy and sell goods at ports along their extensive voyages, which spanned from remote Hokkaido, along the coastal regions of western Honshu, and around Shimonoseki to the bustling city of Osaka. This trade route, as well as the ships themselves, became known as Kitamaebune.

“Kitamae” was the word used by people in Osaka and the Inland Sea area for the “Sea of Japan side” of Honshu. Thus, ships arriving from the Sea of Japan were referred to as Kitamaebune, or “Sea of Japan ships.” On the Japan Sea coast, they were generally known as Sengoku-bune, although some referred to them as “Bai-bune” or “Double ships,” reflecting the potential for shipowners to double their profits in a single journey.

Such profits were made possible because of the lack of rapid communication. Before the advent of telegraphs, savvy merchants realized that they could capitalize on regional price variations to earn substantial profits. By buying goods at lower prices in one area and selling them at higher prices in another, they took advantage of price differentials to maximize their earnings.

The origin of the Kitamae sea route can be traced to Maeda Toshitsune, the third lord of the Kaga Domain, now Ishikawa Prefecture. At that time, Osaka served as the economic center and a major trading hub, and each domain had a warehouse in the area. To transport rice from Maeda’s domain to Osaka, the Kaga clan had previously unloaded the cargo at the port of Tsuruga and transported it overland and via Lake Biwa to Otsu, Kyoto, and Osaka. However, this process was laborious and inefficient.

In the early 1600s, Toshitsune decided to ship 15,000 kilos of rice from the Sea of Japan southward around Shimonoseki through the Seto Inland Sea to Osaka. In 1672, this route became official when the Tokugawa shogun ordered Edo merchant Kawamura Zuiken to chart the Sea of Japan passage connecting Hokkaido and Osaka, and the Kitamaebune route was born.

The Ships

The early Kitamaebune were small, single-sail, oared vessels that could carry up to 75,000 kilos of cargo. Due to the limitations of their design and the challenging conditions of the sea, they could only complete one round trip between northern Japan and Osaka per year, from spring to autumn. In winter, when the sea was rough, the ship would be moored near the harbor and the sailors would return home on foot. With the arrival of spring, they would reunite at the harbor and prepare to set sail.

By the beginning of the 18th century, the first 24-meter-long Sengokubune were built. Sengokubune means “1,000 koku ships.” In traditional Japanese measurement, one koku equals 150 kilos. 150 kilos of rice was considered the amount needed to feed one man for a year. Taxes were calculated in terms of koku, samurai received their wages in koku, and the wealth of daimyo lords was measured by the number of koku of rice their domains produced. Thus, a Sengokubune, 1,000 koku ship, could carry an impressive 150 tons of cargo.

These new vessels boasted solid hulls, sharp bows designed to cut through the waves, and large, single-piece square sails. With these advancements, Sengokubune could complete the journey between Hokkaido and Osaka in just 12 to 13 days, marking a vast improvement in efficiency and transportation speed. Because they could sail without the need for oarsmen, these large robust vessels could be operated by a crew of just a dozen people.

Upon arrival at a port, the shipmasters had to provide a document detailing the purpose of their voyage, the number of crew members, and proof that no Christians were on board. This paper, along with inventory lists, receipts, and other essential documents were kept in specially designed waterproof chests that would float in the event of a shipwreck.

And shipwrecks were not uncommon. Before setting out, sailors would visit Shinto shrines and Buddhist temples to pray for safety. Pictures of ships offered as votive tablets, called ema, can still be seen in shrines and temples along the Kitamaebune route. These were offered both as prayers for safekeeping and as tokens of thanksgiving. In some cases, shipwreck survivors even cut off their hair and attached it to ema tablets in gratitude to the gods.

The Cargo

The Kitamae route encompassed over 100 ports along the Sea of Japan, primarily in the Hokuriku region. These served as home ports where shipowners resided, and from there, the ships sailed to Osaka. After loading necessities such as sugar and sake in Osaka, the ships started on their journeys to Hokkaido, stopping at ports along the way to stock up on items to sell. 

The shipmasters purchased specialty items from each area. In the ports along the Seto Sea, they bought salt from the numerous salt farms that dotted the coast. From Shimane, they bought iron. In Fukui, paper and knives. To ensure stability, granite slabs were used as ballast, and on top of that, the hulls were filled with an eclectic mix of goods including vinegar, tobacco, candles, pottery, cotton, textiles, indigo, dolls, and sweets. 

Upon reaching each port, the shipmasters would sell whatever goods they had in store that would make a handsome profit. Continuing their journeys further north along the Honshu coast, they would replenish their cargo. From the Hokuriku ports, they bought buckwheat, medicine, and especially rice and straw products to sell in Hokkaido where it was too cold for rice to grow.

From Hokkaido, the Kitamaebune mainly carried marine products to Osaka and ports along the way. This included valuable commodities like kombu kelp, herring, dried sardines, dried sea cucumber, salmon, and cod. The ships would set out in August, stopping at ports to sell and pick up more goods. Aside from their main cargo of rice, other items included sand iron, kozo mulberry stalks (the raw ingredient of Japanese paper), pots, agricultural equipment, salt, and copper Buddhist implements, incense burners, and vases — and safflower, a popular item in Kyoto where it was used to make lipstick and dye.

The abundant herring from the Hokkaido seas served for decades as an important source of fuel and fertilizer. The fish were processed to extract the oil, and the remains were fermented. This nutrition-rich mash was used as fertilizer for the rapidly developing cotton industry in domains along the Seto Inland Sea. Its sales brought in five to ten times its purchase price.

The profits from a single Kitamaebune voyage could amount to 60-100 million yen in today’s currency (US $450,000-$706,000). Some shipowners amassed fleets of as many as 200 large and small ships, making some families billionaires. The Honma’s of Sakata, in present-day Yamagata Prefecture, were one such family who, through scrupulous trade, grew from lowly merchants to become the largest landowners in Japan. Their wealth surpassed that of feudal lords.

An expression of the day was, 本間さまには及びもないが、せめてなりたや殿様に, Honma-sama ni ha oyobi monai ga, semete naritaya tono-sama ni. “Becoming a Honma is too far out of reach, but let me become a lord, at least!” This phrase encapsulated the ambitions of the merchant class, whose dreams of financial success focused on the Kitamaebune trade.

The Sailors

The allure of working on these treasure ships attracted many young men, but the job had its difficulties. Sailors faced demanding work, braving the perils of shipwrecks and enduring six-hour shifts through the night. Their salaries were low, around ¥200,000 to ¥300,000 per year in today’s terms (US $1,500-2,000), yet people still clamored to work on these ships because the job also had its perks.

Shipwrights were allowed to load and sell private goods, keeping the profits for themselves. Other crew members received a bonus known as kiridashi, which amounted to 5 to 10% of the ship’s sales. It’s easy to imagine how this incentivized the crew to handle the cargo with care. On a Kitamaebune carrying 15 tons of goods, a sailor’s bonus could reach a remarkable 10 million yen in today’s value (US $70,500). It’s no wonder that these jobs were popular.

A prerequisite for employment was that prospective crew members had to be from the same village as the shipowner, or else they had to provide a guarantor. Given the substantial profits at stake, having a trustworthy and capable crew was paramount. Hiring crew from the same region engendered trust, fostered camaraderie, and strengthened bonds.

Individuals could start their career on a Kitamaebune as an apprentice ship’s cook at the age of 14 or 15 and gradually progress to become a mariner. Although it took around 30 years to advance through the ranks, the hope was that eventually, a sailor could save enough money to buy his own ship and become a millionaire. 

Cultural Impacts

The far-reaching impact of the Kitamaebune trade cannot be understated. The numerous ports along the route served as centers of shipbuilding and trade, giving rise to unique local cultures and industries. As the ships traveled, they transported not only goods, but also ideas, customs, and knowledge, contributing to the exchange and spread of cultural influences.

One noteworthy area is pottery and ceramics. The Kitamaebune trade introduced distant pottery styles from Arita and Seto to ports along the Sea of Japan coast. This allowed the people in those regions to incorporate these styles into their evolving pottery tradition.

Food culture also experienced significant transformations through the Kitamaebune trade. The introduction of kombu kelp from Hokkaido led to a thriving industry of kombu-based products in the Kansai region, such as kombu-maki rolls and umami-rich dashi broth. The popularity of kombu dashi spread throughout the country, and today it is an essential ingredient in Japanese cuisine. 

The trade also facilitated the dissemination of wagashi, exquisite Japanese sweets that originated in Kyoto to accompany bitter green tea. These artistic confections added a touch of class and sophistication to the shops that served them in the northern regions.

A lesser-known Kyoto specialty called imobo, or “potato stick,” owes its origin to the Kitamaebune. This curious dish, which is not actually made from potatoes, was created using affordable dried cod from Hokkaido and a local variety of taro root. In an attempt to imitate the new, exotic, and expensive Satsuma sweet potatoes, the fish and taro were cooked together for days until they blended, resulting in a texture and look somewhat resembling boiled sweet potato sticks.

Architectural influences also spread through the Kitamaebune trade. Construction techniques that were prevalent in Kyoto were transmitted to the northwest coast of Honshu, leaving a lasting imprint on the region.

Construction materials, such as a valuable stone called shakudani-ishi, were carried on the Kitamaebune ships. This light blue volcanic tuff, mined in Fukui Prefecture, was sought after for crafting Buddhist statuary and building shrine foundations. Even the granite stones that served as ballast were repurposed for building bridges and roads. 

Music traveled with the sailors on the Kitamaebune, resulting in the transformation and adaptation of folk songs along the route. The Kyushu song “Haya-bushi” journeyed north and evolved into local folksongs still sung in Niigata and Aomori prefectures. Similarly, a popular song originating from Sakata port near Osaka made its way to Niigata, where the lyrics were adapted to depict the people and experiences associated with the Kitamaebune ships.

The port towns along the Kitamaebune route bustled with restaurants, inns, and teahouses catering to the boatmen. Diverse populations were drawn by the lure of the trade and the prosperity it brought, from geisha to master carpenters. Boatmen became known not only for their navigation and trade expertise but also for their refined appreciation of poetry and the arts. As they returned to their respective regions from the Osaka-Kyoto area,they brought back some of the sophistication and vibrant culture they had experienced.

Fashion was another area influenced by the trading ships. During the Edo Period, cotton cultivation began in the Kansai area, but the northwestern coast of Honshu was too cold for it to grow. To acquire this coveted and versatile fabric, people in those regions purchased discarded cotton garments from Osaka, transported via the Kitamaebune ships. They recycled the cloth using a method called sakiori — tearing the cloth into strips and reweaving it with thread. This technique created a uniquely textured material. Sakiori eventually gave rise to sashiko, a renowned form of Japanese embroidery.

The Kitamaebune boatmen were easily recognizable by their distinctive attire: garments of sakiori cotton, a rope in place of an obi belt, and a portable brush and ink case attached at the waist. Their clothing was not only practical, but it revealed their identity and role in the trade.

The End of an Era

As the Meiji Period (1868-1912) unfolded, technological advancements such as railroads, steamships, and telegraph communication brought about the gradual decline of the Kitamaebune trade. The rapid dissemination of commodity prices throughout the country reduced the shipowners’ ability to capitalize on price variations, impacting their profits. The majestic Kitamaebune sailing vessels were soon replaced by more efficient steamships, and the era of these iconic ships gradually faded.

Furthermore, in 1885, a government regulation banned the construction of Japanese-style ships exceeding 500 koku. This dealt a severe blow to the shipbuilding industry along the Kitamaebune route, forcing many businesses to shut down. Some shipbuilders chose to emigrate to Hokkaido, a newly opened frontier, where they could utilize their skills in the development of the burgeoning territory.

The legacy of the Kitamaebune trade, however, endures in the economic and cultural aspects of the regions along its route. Its influence can be seen in the local traditions, culinary practices, and architectural styles that were shaped by this dynamic era of maritime commerce.

One can only imagine the anticipation felt by the locals eagerly watching the horizon for the white sails of these treasure ships. The arrival of each surely brought with it a wave of excitement and wonder, as the communities knew that within their hulls lay a wealth of goods from distant lands. The joy of being connected to worlds they could only dream of must have been an extraordinary experience for the people along the Kitamaebune route.

The post Kitamaebune— The Trade that Made Shrewd Shipowners into Millionaires first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

Sado Island’s lesser-known treasure

Last month I had the opportunity to visit the fascinating island of Sado, off the coast of Niigata Prefecture in northern Honshu. It felt like a land that time forgot, so charmingly rustic and old-fashioned were its buildings.

Located in the Sea of Japan, Sado was once home to mines that flourished from the early 17th century until the last one closed in 1989. Together, these mines produced an astounding 78 tons of gold and 2,300 tons of silver. That’s a lot of precious metals!

Nevertheless, I was surprised to learn that during those same years, 30% of the island’s wealth was concentrated in the quiet port town of Shukunegi.

Naturally, I had to explore.

Shukunegi

Shukunegi is on the southeast coast of Sado Island, an easy drive from my inn on the southwest coast. During the Edo era (1603–1867), the port bustled with trade. Hundreds of Sengoku-bune, a type of Japanese wooden sailing ship, were either based there or stopped by on their way to and from the port of Sakata, in the north, to Osaka on the far side of Honshu. 

The name, Sengoku-bune, means “1,000 koku ships.” Koku is a Japanese measurement that had long been used for rice. One koku equals 150 kilos. Rather than in currency, taxes were paid in numbers of koku of rice. Samurai received a set number of koku as their yearly wages. And Daimyo lords were judged wealthy by the number of koku of rice their domains produced.

These impressive sailing ships, the Sengoku-bune “1,000 koku ships,” carried 150,000 kilos of rice from the great rice-producing areas of northeastern Japan down to Osaka, stopping at ports along the way. They returned with pottery, various other goods, and remarkably, stones to replace the weight of the rice and provide necessary ballast for the ships.

You can spot these stones around the town, used in roads, foundations for buildings, monuments, and the like. One bridge in Shukunegi is made from stones carried on one of the Sengoku-bune all the way from Onomichi City, in what is today Hiroshima Prefecture.

Shukunegi is situated on a small piece of land surrounded on three sides by hills. In the late Edo era, the town along with the surrounding countryside consisted of 120 households and 500 residents. There were peasants, shipowners, captains, sailors, shipbuilders and carpenters, blacksmiths, and bucket makers. As well, there was a continuous stream of men who came and went on the Sengoku-bune.

People still live there today.

To fit the population in, architects had to be creative, fitting the buildings into small and irregularly shaped patches of land between streams and roads. They also made good use of any leftover wood from shipbuilding and from old, dismantled ships.

Prosperity threatened

In December of 1802, a 6.5 to 7.0 magnitude earthquake occurred that nearly put an end to Shukunegi’s prosperous trade. The land and sea levels along the coast were raised by two meters. The Sengoku-bune could no longer harbor in the small port. The sea had become too shallow.

Thankfully, one resourceful man came up with a solution.

Tarai-bune

Miso making requires fermenting soybeans with saltwater and rice koji — yes, the same koji that is used in making sake — in huge barrels made from cedar and bamboo. 

The story is told that a miso maker was gazing at his big barrels and struck upon an idea. He cut one in half and found that it made a fine shallow-bottomed boat. It was big and stable enough to haul freight to and from the Sengoku-bune anchored offshore.

That innovative miso-maker had made the first han-giri, or “half-cut.” The idea caught on. People started building these boats and adapting them, making them smaller and then oval-shaped. They came to be called tarai-bune, “washbasin boats.” They are controlled by using one long oar.

Fishermen use tarai-bune even today from which they hook abalone and flatfish from the shallow seafloor. Their small size makes them easy to navigate through the narrow waterways and coves of the Sado coast.

After being ferried about in a tarai-bune and seeing a surprising number of baby fugu pufferfish in the crystal-clear water, I headed off to explore the town’s museum.

Ogi Folk Museum

In 1920, an elementary school was built in Shukunegi. Due to population decline, the school was converted into a museum in 1972. 

A faithful reproduction of a Sengoku-bune nearly fills its auditorium, surrounded by a collection of old coins, beautiful ceramics, lacquerware, old chests, and other relics.

Each classroom is dedicated to a different category of objects. They are filled nearly to overflowing, giving me the impression that many grandmothers must have donated the contents of their many storerooms.

I was captivated by this amazing treasure trove of ancient and curious items, from old ema tablets, saddles, toys, shoes…

…to pipes, pottery, masu measuring boxes, toilets, fishing tools, bamboo products, and more. According to the gentleman who works there, who, incidentally, graduated from that elementary school, the building houses more than 30,000 items.

Yet, of all the hundreds of pieces of pottery in the museum, not one was made on Sado. All of it was brought in through trade, including Jomon era (14,000–300 BC) pots from neighboring Niigata.

After nearly being overwhelmed by the huge variety and amount of items to look at, I asked the fellow at the museum about a collection of Buddhist Jizo statues I had heard about. He knew what I meant. 

Since there was no one else at the museum, he left and led me down a long staircase into the heart of Shukunegi Town to a small graveyard. He told me the Jizo were behind a collection of statues.

We gingerly climbed up over the ancient statues and, indeed, the Jizo were there, grown over by grass and weeds. I guess there just aren’t enough people to get everything done in that small town.

This kind man then suggested that I might like to visit a cave nearby. After walking together back to the museum, I thanked him and then followed his directions to a staircase that led up from a narrow road.

Iwaya Cave

What I found up that stone staircase was a large sea cave created hundreds of thousands of years ago. Iwaya Cave is 70 meters above sea level, the rise in elevation is thought to have been caused by the major uplifts in the earth’s crust that occur about every 1,000 years in this area.

In this cave, archeologists have discovered ceramics dating from the Jomon era (14,000–300 BC) clear through to recent years, carvings from the middle ages, coins, ironware, and more. It is still a remarkable place, although questionably looked after.

Buddhist images carved into the cave walls are attributed to Kōbō Daishi, who founded Shingon Buddhism in the early 9th century. 

In the far back of the cave, in pitch dark, is an image of the Eleven-Faced Kannon, goddess of mercy, who sailors prayed to for safekeeping. My camera flash allowed me to capture its image.

In front of the cave are 88 stone Buddhas, representing the 88 sites of the pilgrimage on Shikoku island, established by Kōbō Daishi.

There are small towns like Shukunegi all over Japan, filled with interesting stories and hidden treasures. Fortunately for the people of Shukunegi, their town was declared an “Important Preservation District for Historic Buildings” in 1991. It is one of 126 such areas scattered across Japan that are being preserved, and they are well worth searching out.

Although we tend to think of the past as remote and distant, much of it lives on in rural Japan — in towns like Shukunegi. 

The post Shukunegi, Japan — The Town Where People Fish from Barrels first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

It started with a generous gesture from a rival warlord

The Salt Road is an ancient trade route that has been all but forgotten, yet it winds its way through some of the most stunning scenery in Japan.

The Salt Road

For centuries, obtaining salt in the landlocked domain of Shinshu, present-day Nagano Prefecture, was a challenging task. Porters would undertake a perilous journey along a rough trail, braving steep slopes to transport salt and other goods from the Sea of Japan. This trail came to be known as The Salt Road. 

Its origin can be traced back to the Warring States Period of the 15th and 16th centuries. Takeda Shingen, a powerful warlord ruling over the Matsumoto area, faced a salt shortage when his access to salt from the Pacific coast was cut off by enemies in the south.

In a surprising act of nobility, Takeda’s arch-enemy, Uesugi Kenshin, offered to provide salt to him from his domain along the Sea of Japan, stating that battles should be fought with weapons, not through denying necessities, like salt, to the common people. Despite their lifelong rivalry, Uesugi wrote to Takeda, “A salt embargo is cowardly and unjust. I will fight you with bows and arrows, not with rice and salt. I beg you to henceforth obtain salt from my land…”

This act gave rise to the Japanese expression,  敵に塩を送る, Teki ni shio wo okuru, “sending salt to one’s enemy,” a metaphor for not taking ignoble advantage of an enemy’s weakness. From that point on, salt was regularly shipped from the coastal city of Itoigawa to Matsumoto along the 120 km long Salt Road.

Unlike the five main highways managed by the Tokugawa shoguns during the Edo Period (1603-1867), the Salt Road saw no glamorous daimyos’ processions and held no lavish inns. Though humble, it served as a lifeline for the mountainous landlocked provinces, characterized by steep and treacherous terrain, with modest post towns compared to those of the Nakasendo and Tokaido.

The porters, too, differed from their Five Highways counterparts. Called bokka, literally “walking loads,” they were often farmers and their wives. They traveled in groups of ten or more, sometimes accompanied by beasts of burden, primarily oxen and horses. Horses were well-suited for the flat sections of the road, but oxen proved their worth by their ability to navigate the treacherous mountain paths with sure-footed precision.

The bokka’s loads were heavy — one bale of salt alone weighed 47 kilos. These they carried on wooden framed packs, secured to their backs by braided-straw shoulder straps. On their return, the bokka bore hemp, tobacco, soybeans, medicine, cotton, and other goods, which they traded along the way or brought back to the port of Itoigawa to be sent on the Kitamae-bune trading ships to the Seto Inland Sea.

The journey along the Salt Road typically spanned six days. However, in cases where expedited shipping was necessary, such as transporting a load of salted and fresh fish, a porter could depart from Itoigawa at 4:00 pm and run through the night. Along the way, the porter would pass the cargo to relays, and although the distance was great, the goods could arrive in Matsumoto by the following morning.

Despite the challenging nature of the winding route through Japan’s precipitous Northern Alps, the Salt Road remained heavily traveled during and beyond the Edo Period. Trade along the trail peaked in the late 1600s, with pack animals and bokka porters continuously transporting goods along the long and hazardous path throughout the year. Winter posed the greatest challenge, as the mountain passes would often be buried under up to 5 meters of snow, making it impassable for oxen and horses. During these deep winter months, all goods had to be transported on the backs of the bokka, who crossed frozen streams and scrambled up steep ascents in their bamboo snowshoes.

Guardian Deities

To safeguard the bokka and their animals, numerous Shinto shrines and protective deities were placed along the road. The path is still adorned with comforting statues of Kannon, the Buddhist bodhisattva of mercy. In the most dangerous sections, one can find statues of Bato Kannon, the “Horse Head Goddess of Mercy,” placed to protect pack horses.

Dosojin guardians, small carved stones shaped like couples or sometimes represented merely by a rough stela, can frequently be seen in the more isolated parts of the highway and near mountain passes.

Jizo statues, often wearing red caps and bibs, also grace the highway. This compassionate bodhisattva attained enlightenment but deferred Buddhahood to watch over travelers and children. They are also found in villages where they look after the spirits of deceased children.

Other statues and markers along the trail serve as poignant reminders of those who perished during the journey, succumbing to exposure, exhaustion, or accidents. They stand as a silent testament to the hazards of the trek.

As railway construction flourished and the national highway opened during the Meiji period (1868-1912), the Salt Road fell into disuse. Nevertheless, walking along this lesser-known trail evokes a sense of the people, cattle, and horses that traversed it in centuries past. The road takes us through forgotten hamlets, majestic beech forests, and along clear mountain streams and ponds. The only sounds are birdsong and the rustling of leaves, the atmosphere imbued with the essence of bygone times.

If you would like to hike along the Salt Road and learn more about it, Walk Japan offers guided tours for small groups.

The post The Salt Road—Nearly Forgotten Trade Route Between Itoigawa and Matsumoto first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.

A former trading hub, Sakata holds hidden treasures

I’d long been curious to visit the city of Sakata on the coast of Yamagata prefecture in northern Japan. Although far removed from the big cities of Tokyo, Kyoto, and Osaka, in years gone by, this quiet city was once a prosperous and bustling trading hub that rivaled Sakai, Osaka’s busy port. 

It was said:

西の堺、東の酒田

To the west, Sakai. To the east, Sakata.

I had to see it for myself.

So, after climbing Mount Haguro and exploring Tsuruoka city, I rode a comfortable express train 20 minutes north to Sakata.

Sakata’s Trading History

Until the late 1800s, Sakata was the capital of Dewa Province, which encompassed all of present-day Akita and Yamagata Prefectures. Its location along the Sea of Japan and on the edge of the Shonai plain — a major rice-producing area — contributed to its rich history.

Before the days of telegraphs or other means of fast communication, merchants in Sakata realized that they could capitalize on the variations in prices from region to region to make great profits.

They would buy local rice and other commodities, ship them down and around the island of Honshu, and sell them at a premium to merchants in Sakai, Osaka. This shipping route, along with the ships that plied them, came to be called, “north-bound ships,” or Kitamae-bune.

As the years passed, the size and speed of the ships increased. By the beginning of the 18th century, the first large Sengoku-bune were built. These fast sailing ships could carry a whopping 150 tons of rice.

Loading up the rice in Sakata were women as well as men. Although small in stature in those days, they regularly carried an impressive five bales of rice on their backs. With each bale weighing 60 kilos, that’s a heavy load!

After selling their cargo of rice in Sakai, the ships would return carrying ceramics, lacquerware, all kinds of household goods — and heavy stones for ballast.

As the years passed, the port continued to flourish. In 1893, the large Sankyo Rice Storehouses were built. Here, rice was inspected, its quality graded, and then stored for later shipping.

The storehouses were built near the mouth of the Mogami River. A fleet of small, shallow, fast boats carried rice from upriver to the storehouses. 

Zelkova trees were planted on the eastern side of the storehouses to provide shade to cool the buildings.

The builders created spaces between the roofs and the earthenware storehouses to allow for air to circulate to keep the buildings cool during the hot, humid summer months.

Of the 12 storehouses originally constructed, nine are still in use. Three have been converted into a museum and shops. 

When my curiosity was satisfied, I climbed on my rental bicycle and rode uptown to visit the former home of a remarkable family and local hero.

The Honma family

During the centuries of Sakata’s prosperity, one merchant family stood out among the rest, the Honmas. Through scrupulous trade, they grew from lowly merchants to becoming the biggest landowners in Japan. Their wealth surpassed that of many feudal lords.

An expression of the day was, 本間さまには及びもないが、せめてなりたや殿様に, “Becoming a Honma is too far out of reach, but let me become a lord, at least!”

In the mid-18th century, the 3rd generation family head, Honma Mitsuoka, became a legend in his own time for his contributions to the city of Sakata and its people.

He paid for the best craftsmen to come from Kyoto to construct estates and tea houses. These men provided priceless experience to local laborers who worked with them and learned their techniques. 

The city was soon filled with rows of beautiful shops, restaurants, and inns to cater to the many visitors who came to trade.

Although Honma Mitsuoka was undoubtedly known for his wealth, his true heroism came from his philanthropy. 

By 1783, Japan had already been suffering from several years of bad harvests when Mount Asama, northwest of Tokyo, erupted. This eruption killed hundreds of people, destroyed huge swaths of precious farmland, and plunged the country into devastating famine. 

To provide for those struggling, Mitsuoka donated his huge reserves of rice as well as substantial amounts of cash.

In later years, he paid for the construction of the Sakata lighthouse, and he had 10 cannons forged and set up for coastal defense.

Most famously, though, he devoted himself to solving a problem that had been plaguing local rice farmers for years.

The pine forest, Banri no Matsubara

Due to the indiscriminate felling of trees for construction and firewood, sand dunes had come to replace the forests along the long Sakata coast. Whenever strong coastal winds blew, the town and surrounding rice fields were covered with sand. 

Mitsuoka determined to reforest those sand dunes.

Per his instructions, his workers collected old roofing thatch and laid it on the sand dunes to use as fertilizer. He ordered thousands of salt-resistant black pine trees, and the villagers set to work planting them. Mitsuoka realized if they planted them one by one, they could easily be blown down. So the townspeople worked together to plant as many as they could.

The trees were regularly buffeted by strong winds that toppled many. The few trees that survived these ravages were the encouragement Mitsuoka needed to persevere.

After five years of difficult and very costly efforts, Mitsuoka and the townspeople had planted 10,000 sturdy trees covering 1,800 meters.

Today, Mitsuoka’s project has grown to cover a 34 km stretch of coastline from Tsuruoka in the south to the town of Yuza, north of Sakata city. This forest, called Banri no Matsubara, 万里の松原, has successfully prevented the devastating sandstorms that had ravaged crops and livelihoods.

What a wonderful and beautiful legacy to Mistuoka, the undeniable hero of Sakata.

There were still two little-known treasures I wanted to find. So, I left Sakata and followed the coast along the pine forest to its northern end.

The 16 Buddhas of Jūroku Rakan Iwa

Just north of Sakata and inland is the beautiful snow-capped volcano, Mount Chōkai, whose ancient eruptions created rugged rocks along the coast.

Among these volcanic rocks are sculptures of 16 Buddhist saints with an interesting history.

The story begins in the mid-1800s. These were difficult years for the people of Japan. Commodore Perry had shocked the nation with his show of formidable military strength  —  his four “black ships” carried more firepower than the entire shogunate possessed  —  and Japan had capitulated without a shot being fired, signing an unfair trade treaty with the US. 

Aside from this, the stability of the Tokugawa shogunate was being rocked by imperialists crying out for the re-establishment of rule by the emperor.

During these turbulent years, life for the poor peasantry became even more fraught.

In 1864, a Buddhist monk, Ishikawa Kankai, touched by their hardships, commissioned sculptors to create 16 Buddhist saints to pray for the people. 

The work took five years, with artisans sculpting masterpieces from the hardened lava.

These saints continue to pray for the prosperity, health, and virtue of the people, and they look after the fishermen out on the rough waters of the Sea of Japan. 

People still visit them today, offering coins and prayers for their blessings.

After paying my respects to these Buddhist saints, I went in search of my final treasure.

Maruike Pond

I headed inland, past rice fields, and down a narrow dirt path into a primeval forest. Rounding a corner, I was awed by the serene beauty of Maruike Pond. It’s small  —  only 20 meters in diameter and 3.5 meters at its deepest. Fallen trees are clearly visible through the crystal-clear, icy water. Like a dragon, so a sign told me, the trees rest at the bottom, preserved whole.

Some believers consider this beautiful pond to be the deity Maruike-sama, Lord Maruike, and as such, it and its contents are preserved, untouched. 

Rural Japan is rich in beautiful treasures of nature, interesting history, and amazing stories. I hope that I have been able to give you a small glimpse into the wonders it holds. 

Note on Perry’s black ships: “Kagawa Eizaemon, an aide to the Uraga magistrate, counted about 70 large-caliber cannons. The shogunate had roughly a hundred cannons around Edo Bay, but only 11 of these were of comparable caliber. With four ships, Perry had outgunned Japan’s supreme warlord.” Professor Mark Ravina, from his biography of Saigo Takamori.

References

https://www.rinya.maff.go.jp/j/kokuyu_rinya/kokumin_mori/katuyo/reku/rekumori/banri.html, http://tobifudo.jp/newmon/shinbutu/rakan.html

The post Sakata, Japan— From Fame to Obscurity, but the Beauty Lives On first appeared on More Than Tokyo and is written by Diane Tincher.