To state the obvious, Japan is an island nation. I mention this as a preamble to my notion that after decades of interest in Japanese culture and history, and my involvement with boating in general, I find few references to Japan’s maritime history.
The most common image is that of traditional boats struggling amongst the great waves in Hokusai’s famous Ukiyoe print of the same name. But even here the craft are but a sidenote, hardly noted within the cataclysmic waves. Most often Japan’s sailing heritage is confined in these prints to a few rectangular sails off in the distance.
As you know from previous commentaries, I am a devotee of all things watery. At eleven years old I began to sail out of Montrose Harbor on Lake Michigan and I have never looked back. In high school I became interested in Asian culture, mainly Japanese, and began to wonder about Japan’s boating history. Recently, I became aware of a book by Douglas Brooks called Japanese Wooden Boatbuilding. It is a gorgeous book that is equally comfortable on a coffee table or in a boat builder’s workshop.
The book chronicles his first five Japanese boatbuilding apprentices (there have been four more) from the northern tip of Honshu to the southernmost reaches of Okinawa. It is a comprehensive thesis on the building of each design, and a philosophical essay on the loss of a way of teaching and a way of life.
Each boat is a snapshot of the unique region where they are built and of the proprietary knowledge of the boatbuilder. He documents in detail the trials and tribulations as he attempts to convince his teachers to reveal their secrets. Even though most were in their 70’s and 80’s and the last of their kind, their reluctance to pass on knowledge is striking. The book is an absorbing, if technical read.
As a young man Douglas Brooks, a gifted wooden boatbuilder, visited Japan at a friend’s request and saw a need to document Japan’s fast disappearing traditional marine heritage. He has devoted his life to this end. Thus began my involvement with his latest boatbuilding project.
Many will know of Japan House on the University of Illinois Champaign/Urbana campus. They are also a repository of Japanese culture and history. One winter’s day I opened their newsletter to see that Douglas Brooks, in conjunction with Japan House, was offering a Japanese boatbuilding class, an apprenticeship, for the 2022 winter semester. The boat to be built is a honryousen, a typical fishing boat. This one is based on a 21-foot traditional Shinano River fishing boat.
I am 68 years old and the thought of matriculating as a student was daunting, but just maybe I could make a case to volunteer to help in the condensed seven day boatbuilding schedule. I presented my curriculum vitae as an amateur small boatbuilder and a long term cruiser. A Zoom meeting was held with the interested parties and after reassurances by me that I can follow orders, I was told to report to the Siebel Center for Design’s Garage on March 26.
What followed required a rapid learning curve reminiscent of my medical training. The 18 students and I, through Brooks’ superb tutelage, learned unique wood working skills using unique tools, and learned the sharpening techniques to keep the various planes and chisels functioning. The class’s readings: learning in a Zen monastery, the life and work of traditional craftsperson’s, and the use of traditional tools linked the didactic to the hands on portion.
There are too many details to go into here, so I refer you to the Douglas Brooks (www.douglasbrooksboatbuilding.com) and to the Japan House (www.japanhouse.illinois.edu) websites, and to his book: Japanese Wooden Boatbuilding.
What I found notable, though a boat was built and floated (without a leak!), was that the main thrust of the apprenticeship was how to live, learn, and teach through the lens of a different culture: attention to detail, full concentration on the task at hand, accepting responsibility for our actions, a life lived without contradictions and true to our natural selves. This along with new found manual skills, which the students seemed to crave, created a quiet and intense learning environment.
In this way his class echoes the four principles of chado, the way of tea: harmony (wa), respect (kei), purity (sei), and tranquility (jaku). Concentrate on the details with a pure heart, and maybe, just maybe, a bowl of tea will be made or even a boat!
P.S. The boat is for sale. Go to the Japan House website for further details, here is a link to the U of I article: https://news.illinois.edu/view/6367/789104783
April 2020
