Drains of the Oki Islands

Nakanoshima

Chiburijima

Nishinoshima

Okinoshima

Farewell to the Oki Islands

“Once more, homeward bound, I sat upon the cabin-roof of the Oki-Saigo--
this time happily unencumbered by watermelons--and tried to explain to
myself the feeling of melancholy with which I watched those wild island-
coasts vanishing over the pale sea into the white horizon. No doubt it
was inspired partly by the recollection of kindnesses received from many
whom I shall never meet again; partly, also, by my familiarity with the
ancient soil itself, and remembrance of shapes and places: the long blue
visions down channels between islands--the faint grey fishing hamlets
hiding in stony bays--the elfish oddity of narrow streets in little
primitive towns--the forms and tints of peak and vale made lovable by
daily intimacy--the crooked broken paths to shadowed shrines of gods
with long mysterious names--the butterfly-drifting of yellow sails out
of the glow of an unknown horizon. Yet I think it was due much more to a
particular sensation in which every memory was steeped and toned, as a
landscape is steeped in the light and toned in the colours of the
morning: the sensation of conditions closer to Nature's heart, and
farther from the monstrous machine-world of Western life than any into
which I had ever entered north of the torrid zone. And then it seemed to
me that I loved Oki--in spite of the cuttlefish--chiefly because of
having felt there, as nowhere else in Japan, the full joy of escape from
the far-reaching influences of high-pressure civilization--the delight
of knowing one's self, in Dozen at least, well beyond the range of
everything artificial in human existence.”

- Lafcardio Hearn, Glimpse’s of Unfamiliar Japan

My journey to Oki was a culturally rich experience.  It was my first time to venture out to the islands surround the mainland of Japan, and of all the places I could have gone, I picked one of the most remote and cultural distinct places in the country.

Once the 'islands of exile' in the 7th century to the 12th century, Oki continues to be isolated from the mainland, a place few Japanese have ever ventured. This isolation and preserved culturally rich traditions, such as Ama-cho’s Kinya Moniya Dance, and the famous dried quid that came be see hanging from the windows of local shops.

Very few things are imported from the mainland, due to cost and also the desire for self-sufficiency. There are no convenient stores, and almost all businesses are local. The building are made from wood, on islands where trees are abundant and importing raw materials would be costly.

The Oki Three-Day Walk is what I would call “athletic tourism.” This is a form of tourism that focuses on physical activity, but the highlight is actually being in the exotic place. In other words, you get a good workout, but it is still not so rigorous that you can’t enjoy the scenery.

Although I never participated in an organized walk, run, marathon, or any kind of athletic event, I observed some characteristics in the event style and participants that I feel are very different from my home country.

One very noticeable difference was the way women dressed. Although it was over 30 degrees, women covered every inch of their bodies. They wore long pants, long sleeved shirts, gloves, and wide-brimmed hats with detachable veils that draped over the face leaving only the eyes uncovered, as a niqab does. These clothes were not worn out of modesty, but rather to protect the skin from exposure to sunlight. Being pale is still the ideal for women, and they take extreme measures to ensure that not one part of their bodies are exposed to direct sunlight. This is very different from America, where women wear shorts and tank tops when the workout, whether or not they care about tanning. I too would rather just apply sunscreen than walk 60 K underneath a sheet.

Hats, long sleeves, and gloves in 100-degree heat

Back view of the Japanese face veil

Another interesting cultural item is the ubiquitous towel. Long narrow towels printed with the event logo are typically given out at every kind of athletic event. Businesses may also have their own printed towels to give to customers on special occasions. In America, these would be called “hand-towels” and we would use them exclusively in the bathroom after washing our hands. In Japan, they are worn like a fashion accessory. Most people wear the towels around their necks to absorb sweat, or they may tie them around their heads like a bandana. At concerts, people in the audience swing their towels in the air like helicopters. There is no escaping the towel.

Towel in the package

Eating a Japanese bento everyday was also a delight. In America, if lunch were provided at such an event, it would doubtlessly be a sandwich, salad, or tortilla wrap. I dreaded company lunches and picnics in America for fear of these tasteless wraps. In Japan, lunch is always a bento, and it is also always delicious. There is always a healthy mix of meat, vegetables, and rice, with plenty of different flavors to keep the taste buds entertained.

Lastly, I will say that Japanese service really is unparalleled in the world. This extends beyond the expected demeanor and assistance of event staff. Superior service and hospitality can be seen throughout the community. Residents of the islands sat outside on their porches to wave and greet us as we walked past. Restaurants opened their doors to give us free cold tea and miso soup along the way. Rather than being merely tourists, we were treated as guests.

 

When the ferry departs Oki, local residents bid goodbye in a unique way. Colorfully streamers are affixed to the edge of the ship, and they slowly unravel, like a rainbow coming undone in the sky. From the ship’s deck we can see through the colorful streamers to the people on the coastline waving goodbye.

Colorful streamers fly from the boat's deck

Chibu-mura, Chiburijima Day 1

Chibu-mura is the furthest of the Dozen islands, and the least inhabited. It takes over twenty minutes to reach Chibu-mura by ferry from the other inhabited Dozen islands. Chibu-mura consists of the main island of Chiburijima, with a population of less than 600 people, as well as the four uninhabited islands of Okagashima, Shimazujima, Asashima and Kamishima. After walking 10 K in Nakanoshima, I would be completing 13 K on Chiburijima to concluded my first day of the 3-Day walk across Oki.

I embraced Chibu with a sense of wonder. This is one of the most remote and sparely inhabited places in Japan. I felt exhilaration at　the chance to see and experience a place so few other had experienced. When the coast of Chibu-mura came into view, huge concrete sculptures emerged from the water around the coastline, with staircases leading to the sky. I felt as though I had entered a Dali painting. These structures are not decorative, they break the sea’s rough waves as they come crashing to the shore.

The coast like a Dali or M.C. Escher painting

The port of Chibu-mura is what one would expect from an island of 600 people: a small, empty room with a few posters and T-shirts. To me, Chibu-mura is an interesting eample of rural Japan. Unlike small villages on the mainland, which were once booming towns before mass migration drew hoards of people out of the countryside and into the citie, Chibu-mura has – since the dawn of time– been a sparsely populated farmland with virtually no economy.  

Chibu Port is an unusually busy due to the 13K Walk

When Lafcardio Hearn visited Chibu-mura 200 years ago, he wrote that it was “nothing more than a fishing station.” But Chibu-mura is astonishingly beautiful, not in spite of its sparse population but because of it. This remote village is also home to some of the most spectacular scenery in Japan:

“The first impression was almost uncanny. Rising sheer from the flood on
either hand, the tall green silent hills stretched away before us,
changing tint through the summer vapor, to form a fantastic vista of
blue cliffs and peaks and promontories. There was not one sign of human
life. Above their pale bases of naked rock the mountains sloped up
beneath a sombre wildness of dwarf vegetation. There was absolutely no
sound, except the sound of the steamer's tiny engine--poum-poum, poum!
poum-poum, poum! like the faint tapping of a geisha's drum. And this
savage silence continued for miles: only the absence of lofty timber
gave evidence that those peaked hills had ever been trodden by human
foot.”

Almost as soon as we arrived I boarded a bus that would take us to our start point. I was a bit resistant at the idea of taking a bus to the start point. That’s like taking the elevator in a gym. I thought the point of this event was to walk, but as the bus wove through steep winding roads, and minutes turned into almost one hour, I realized why we had been driven.

When we reached the summit of the mountain the bus finally came to a stop　at 12:05 pm. What Ama-cho lacked in natural beauty, Chibu-mura more than made up for. The view from the top of the mountain　was breathtaking. As soon as I stepped off the bus I felt an intense wind and saw that we were in fact on the highest point on the island. At this elevation, there are no trees, a result of the impact of centuries of steady winds. However, all is green and mossy. It was not so much a mountain, as the climax of several steep hills, rolling down in green lumps to the sea. Beyond the green mounds was a tranquil blue sea blurring into the horizon.

I was tired after the 10K walk in Ama, and was uncomfortable with dry sweat sticking to my body, but that biting cold wind and commanding view spurred me on me.

The moment I started my journey downhill I was approached by herds of cattle grazing to either side. The stopped eating and stared at me. Their eyes more sad than indifferent. The road was paved in cow dung. This was the only obstacle as there appeared to be no bees or hairy caterpillars like in Ama-cho. Knowing nothing of cow dung before, I learned a fair bit by merely observing it along the trail. First of all, cow dung dries very quickly in the sun. Since cows only eat grass, dry cow dung is basically dry grass, and smells little more than mud. I didn’t feel gross at all by stepping on it, because it didn’t stink and or stick to my shoes. Rather, it softened the asphalt road and made it more comfortable to walk.

The cows themselves were much more obstructive than their dung. There were no fences separating them from the roads, (which is why their dung is all over the road), so they could roam freely. Sometimes they stood in the middle of the road and I cautiously walked around them.

The ropes on their noses allow ranchers to guide them

Halfway down the mountain, I came to a fork in the road. To the left, the course continued on to the finish line. To the right, an optional course left to Sekiheki, which means "Red walls”, a scenic gorge just half a kilometer away. Realizing that I would never be in Chibu-mura again, I decided to take the opportunity to lengthen my walk and check out the gorge. I turned right.

Although the distance may have only been 500 meters, all of them were painfully uphill, and it took me nearly 15 minutes to ascend what felt like a really long, steep staircase. Eventually I came to the edge of a cliff, overlooking a massive red gorge. From where I stood, I could see the entire red face of the cliff, down to its rocky shoreline, white waves crashing into its sharp edges. I sat down for a short break while staring at the cliff. Then I headed back downhill and resumed the trail, having added 1K to my course.

Sekiheki the Red Gorge

 

Sekiheki the Red Gorge

Feeling a renewed energy, I walked briskly the rest of the way, until I realized that I needed to catch the 3:00 pm ferry back to Ama-cho, and it was 2:45. I still had one kilometer to go. I was too close to give up and take the next ferry at 3:30 (something that would have drastically altered my evening plans), but I was too exhausted to move any faster. Fortunately the last 1K of the race was a downhill spiral slope leading directly to the pier. Gaining the momentum from gravity, I jogged the last 1K and made it onto the ferry with one minute to spare.

Coming around the bend

The circular roadway marked the last 1K of the course

I was sweating, panting, and smelling terribly, which made for an unbearably long 37 minute ride back to Nakanoshima. My reward for the day’s work was a relaxing dip in the local hot spring, where I had about one hour to bath and change clothes before catching the 4:47 ferry to the island of Nishinoshima. 

The manhole cover of Chibu-mura

Into to Oki: 50 kilometers, 4 islands, 3 days

I had never heard of the Oki Islands before moving to Japan. Then again, few people have. This chain of sixteen islands is one of the most isolated places in the country. This is not just a matter of distance. Although the islands are 2-3 hours away by ferry from the mainland, they are by no means the furthest islands from Honshu. This is not mere isolation by three hours of lonely seas, but they are buffered by the two of most rural and sparely populated prefectures in the country (Tottori and Shimane). These islands were once considered a “land of exile” for emperors who lost power in Japan’s period of political instability. One was banished to the island never to return, while the other one managed to escape.
 
Oki-gun (Oki county) is a set of sixteen islands, with only four of them being inhabited. They are further divided into two regions of Dogo and Dozen. Dogo is the largest island to the east, and Dozen consists of a cluster of smaller islands (three inhabited and seven uninhabited) encircling each other to the west. Although they appear close, it takes over an hour to move between Dogo and Dozen by ferry. Until 150 years ago, Oki was actually its own prefecture, until it became part of Tottori, then Shimane prefecture, where I live.
 
The Oki islands have for centuries remained sparsely inhabited and few Japanese people on the mainland had ever heard of them. Not surprisingly, they are a place of astonishing beauty, and cultural richness.
 
When Shimane’s most famous foreign resident, Lafcardio Hearn, visited the Oki Islands at the end of the 19^th century, he wrote of their unparrelled beauty in his book Glimpses of Unfamiliar Japan:
 

“The shores on either side at once receded and heightened: we were
traversing an inland sea bounded by three lofty islands. At first the
way before us had seemed barred by vapory hills; but as these, drawing
nearer, turned green, there suddenly opened magnificent chasms between
them on both sides--mountain-gates revealing league-long wondrous vistas
of peaks and cliffs and capes of a hundred blues, ranging away from
velvety indigo into far tones of exquisite and spectral delicacy. A
tinted haze made dreamy all remoteness, an veiled with illusions of
color the rugged nudities of rock.

 

…These landscapes possess charms of color extraordinary,
phantom-color delicate, elfish, indescribable--created by the wonderful
atmosphere. Vapors enchant the distances, bathing peaks in bewitchments
of blue and grey of a hundred tones, transforming naked cliffs to
amethyst, stretching spectral gauzes across the topazine morning,
magnifying the splendor of noon by effacing the horizon, filling the
evening with smoke of gold, bronzing the waters, banding the sundown
with ghostly purple and green of nacre.”

 
 
Flash forward to 2014 and not much has changed. The islands have continued to remain a remote and mysterious place in Japan. However, since being named a World Geopark in 2013, the islands have been trying to promote tourism. It’s a tough sell, given that most of the residents in Tottori and Shimane haven’t even been there, but the ever-growing tourism industry has created a medley of events to attract visitors from all over Japan.
 
In early June, I made the journey that so few of my fellow peers have made, and I ventured across the sea to all four islands. I participated in the Oki Three-Day Walk, a self-guided walking tour of all four islands over the course of three days.  I paid a cheap entrance fee which also included the cost of a inter-island ferry pass and souvenirs. I also ordered lunch for all three days, and signed up for the BBQ Pre-Party the night before. If I was going to make that long journey to Oki, I wanted to take advantage of every possible opportunity.
 
In addition to having the logistical support of participating in a large-scale event, I was also lucky enough to have one friend on each island who could host me overnight. Not only did this prove useful in the evening, when I needed a place to shower and help getting to and from the port, but also it also provided me with an insider’s look into the lives of residents on these islands.
 
Although I only stayed on the islands three days, the entire trip was four days and four nights long, due to the logistics of getting to and from the islands and my house.
 
My schedule was as follows:
Friday morning-afternoon:       Get to Oki via car, train, bus and ferry.
Friday evening:                        Pre-Event BBQ Dinner in Ama-cho
Friday night:                            Stay at a friend’s house in Ama-cho
 
Saturday morning:                   Walk 10 K in Ama-cho, Nakanoshima island
Saturday afternoon:                 Walk 13 K in Chibu-mura, chiburijima Island
Saturday evening:                    Take the ferry to Nishininoshima
Saturday night:                         Stay at a friend’s house in Nishinoshima
 
Sunday morning:                      Walk 20 K in Nishinoshima
Sunday afternoon:                   Take the ferry to Dogo Island
Sunday night:                          Stay at a friend’s house in Okinoshima, Dogo Island
 
Monday morning:                     Walk 10 K in Okinoshima
Monday afternoon-evening:      Return home via ferry, bus, train, and car
 
As the time drew near my anticipation increased. I was excited to test my athletic limits and to explore this off-beaten path in Japan. It would also be my first time traveling　off the mainland, the “mainland”, in this case meaning the four major islands that comprise Japan (Hokkaido, Honshu, Shikoku, Kyushu). Despite having been to all four islands, I had previously never traveled to any of the 6,000-something smaller islands just off the coast.
 
This would truly be an adventure.