Japan to Taiwan Kayak Sailing Trip

October-November, 2007

I've been going to Japan once a year for 20 years. This trip is going to be a bit more unusual. A kayak sailing trip from Japan to Taiwan. At least that is the trip plan right now, which remains open to fluid adjustment depending upon circumstance. I have learned that much over the years.

Two of the people from Japan on this expedition are friends who I have paddled and journeyed with over the years. I have watched Shiro Ose grow to be a consumate paddler and leader. He's a determined, strong guy, with a big heart and a huge smile. He gets things done right away.

You could call Nakamura-san the "Zen Master of Japanese Kayaking". His deep knowledge of the seas and marine life around Okinawa are inspiring. He's also a mean fisherman with a snorkle and spear. He never misses.

The third Japanese member was someone new to me. Jun Saito (Hobo Jun) is an accomplished outdoor adventurer, photographer, writer and designer. His books about his numerous treks to Patagonia, around Shikoku and other places are popular in Japan. He is also just a great guy to be traveling with. The sailing videos and one of the photos were shot by him. Enjoy them.

Over the last few years my son Evan, Dan, I and a few others have done some memorable trips in our sailing kayaks: the Queen Charlotte Islands, Florida Keys, Polynesia, the Exumas. We've worked out a system that works for us, more or less. The whole thing excites me: the design of the equipment and making it, the trip plan based on extensive research, the sailing and paddling, the people on the trip and the people met along the way.

Special design considerations for this trip include sail rigs for wind conditions ranging from light to 40 knots, sleeping in the kayaks at sea for multiple nights, night navigation and language issues. Our route will take us about 1000 nautical miles, from the south end of the main Japanese island of Kyushu to N.E. Taiwan. Our longest crossing will be 150 nautical miles, across what is known as "Typhoon Alley". As I am writing this the day before heading to Japan, Typhoon Krosa is gearing up and we already may have to delay our departure. No problem. On all of our trips we have shared huge laughs.

I have paddled with Evan since he was a lump on my lap. Now he towers over me, and one day he will be paddling me (I hope). At 18, he has already seen a lot of water go by.

As for Dan, I have known him since he was a young boy. He has worked with me for years while going to school. He's the most energetic and crazy guy I know. How did he become so competent?

And there it is: three Japanese and three Canadians in three double kayaks. Different cultures and different personal histories, similar interests. I should be so lucky.

Kagoshima, Japan

One thing about not being a local, when you arrive in a small town to embark on a somewhat unusual journey, it's hard to go unnoticed. Before launching from Kagoshima, we managed to become front page news in the local newspaper. Which then attracted the attention of the Coast Guard. This is not the type of attention we wanted. The Coast Guard has become quite insistant about us changing our trip-plan, and to not attempt sailing through the "Black Current". Over the past several months of researching this trip, this current has gained mythical proportions. It runs at 4 knots out to the Pacific.

Never the less, we launch, and leave Kagoshima to Yakura Se. This is a longer first stretch than I'd wanted for our first sailing day together as a team. But the wind is going our way. Our first day is 30 long miles. The following day, we have a recuperation day. We then set sail for Yaku Shima west. The wind works for us for the first five miles. And then we have to paddle the next 15 into the wind. Hard going.

It is dusk as we approach shore and the waves are as big as houses.

We were invited aboard a local research vessel, and are treated with gracious hospitality and some home made wine. (That is a different story to be told by my son if he can remember it.) We are again warned about the "Black Current". This is starting to sound serious.

Erring on the side of caution, it is decided to take the ferry to Amami, and continue our sailing trip from there. However, to get the ferry to Amami, we must first catch one ferry back to where we started; and board another ferry. One step forward, three steps back.

We have dodged the Black Current, and are enjoying favourable winds and seas in the tropical paradise of Amami.

Arrived at Tokuno Shima, Amami. Good wind. Wind Seeker Sail Rig with traditional Japanese Sabani Sail.

October 23

We've had a good run since Amami. 30 miles one day; 20 miles the next. Winds going our way. We're a couple of islands away from Okinawa, where two members of our team will, unfortunately, be leaving us. Nakamura-san's son is getting married. And he is already in trouble for being away!

Before we reach Okinawa, we will be visiting the west side of Iheya-retto. It is supposed to be very beautiful.

As these islands are not your "unhabited" tropical islands, we have been camping in fisherman ports, known as "gyoko". These are cement slabs sloping to the water for ease of hauling your boat up. We set up our tents on the top of the "gyoko" amongst the fish boats. It is like camping at the fisherman's wharf near Granville Island. Very interesting.

October 24

Arrived into Yoron Shima. Weve had some great days sailing. The new smaller jib sail complimented the Sabani sail beautifully, adding a little speed, but especially helped steering by keeping the bow downwind. Weather permitting, tomorrow well go to Iheya Shima and Izena Shima. The winds are supposed to be good, but waves are supposed to be large.

Post Japan Trip Story

November 11, 2007

Looking across Kagoshima Bay from Sata Peninsula to Mt. Kaimon — October 13, 2007

Red Sky at Night, Sailors' Delight. Looking across Kagoshima Bay from Sata Peninsula to Mt. Kaimon. We had been camping and waiting on Sata Peninsula, Kyushi Island, the most southerly point of land of the four major islands of Japan for a week. Super Typhoon Krosa, a full category 5 hurricane, blew by south of here and sent us huge waves and southerly winds. With this remarkable sunset, things were looking up.

We left from a beach beside Mt. Kaimon on Oct. 14 and headed south. Our first crossing started with a good following breeze, so we put up our spinnakers, but it died after a couple of hours. We paddled for 24 miles before a breeze built up to a strong 20 knot westerly. As we approached Io Shima, 33 nautical miles away, the light was fading. There the westerly winds were countered by a strong 3 knot out flowing current. After pounding through house size waves Shiro said: "I thought I was going to die". By then he was laughing. We found the fishing village in pitch blackness. We were welcomed and offered a deluxe campsite at the foot of a sculptured cliff.

Samurai statue


Io Shima hot springs

The photo of the statue depicts a notable samurai. The island was once a penal colony for captured samurai soldiers. The volcano is still steaming and the two hot springs are the best we have experienced. These small islands are becoming de-populated. The young people are going to the big cities. With the increasing cost of fuel the local fishermen are finding it difficult to support their families. There is no other economy.

The following days took us to Kuchinoerabu Shima and Yaku Shima. During this whole period there was a concern amongst us about how strong the "Black Current" (Kuro Shio) would be. This is the second strongest surface current in the world. (The Gulf Stream is the strongest) and it hugely influences Japan's weather, flushing warm water north up both sides of Japan and then heading east across the Pacific Ocean to Alaska and northern Canada. The Japanese coast guard was advising us very strongly to not attempt to cross it south of Kuchinoerabu Shima, as it was very strong that year due to warm temperatures, was running at 4 knots and we would likely be swept out into the Pacific. Our question was: did they really know how strong it was; did they actually measure it? In the end we didn't know for sure, but we decided to take a ferry from Yaku Shima to Amami Island, which was south of the main flow. Our crossing to Amami will have to wait for another trip.

Amami

From Amami we island hopped to Naha, on the island of Okinawa. We had two sets of main sails: the Feathercraft bat sails and the Sabani sails designed by Tadaki Nakamura. The beautiful, hand made Sabani sails were larger and moved the boats faster. They could also be reefed very quickly when the wind picked up. We soon found ourselves using these as primary sails. With light following winds we also flew our spinnakers. Although they flap a lot they also supply a lot of power and enabled us to sail comfortably at 4 knots in light air. With beam winds we powered up with either our very small yellow storm jibs or our slightly larger red jibs. Both worked well at winds to 20 knots. With the jibs positioned at our bows steering was enhanced. We could get by with just using our rudders and occasionally correcting course with our steering oars.

Above 20 knots we went with just our Sabani sails, reefed, and had to have a steady hand on our long steering oars. Another option if we had trouble steering would have been an even more reefed Sabani main sail and the small yellow jib. If the winds had increased above 30 knots we planned to stow the main Sabani sails and sail with the small yellow storm jibs, run above the bow, with a back stay. This wasn't necessary. Our strongest winds on the open water crossings were 30 knots. On some crossings we averaged 5 knots with top speeds to 10 knots, running down waves. Some days we had to just paddle, other days we paddled and sailed. Most days we used the predominate north easterlies and sailed in our southerly direction.

Our gracious host and a feast of sashimi and beer.

Most of our campsites were on concrete slopes of small fishing villages (called Gyokos). We always were met by curious but friendly fishermen who offered us places to put up our tents, showers, and water. They didn't know what to make of our odd crafts, certainly they don't see kayaks crossing from islands 30 miles away. But they were incredibly hospitable, even inviting us into their homes to eat sashami and drink beer and sho chu. As Dan said one day: "Getting to meet these people is the best part of the trip."

Our biggest disappointment came at Izena Shima, 13 miles north west of Okinawa. It has long had some of the best coral reef diving around Okinawa. Eight years ago I had experienced this at a similar site to the south (in Kerama). It had been spectacular, the colours of the coral and the beauty of the fish were the most outstanding I had ever seen. The sandy beach was beautiful. But this time the extensive coral reefs were brown with just a few patches left of colour and a few small fish swimming idly around. The reefs all around Okinawa are dying quickly, a victim of rising ocean temperatures. This was humbling for us, a reminder, all too obvious, of what we are doing to our planet.

By this time we realized that we would not be going past Naha, Okinawa. Our group had broken up because Nakamura-san had left to see his son married in Tokyo. Also, one of our group had been severly affected by sea sickness on the crossings. We realized that for longer crossings of 120 and 150 nautical miles, which would take multiple days, this would be too risky. He would be too weak physically despite his strong will. So, in Naha we planned our next voyage. We will return and attempt the crossings from Okinawa to Taiwan. Something to dream about.

Doug Simpson