No country has been better fashioned by Nature for the acquirement of sea-power than the Island Empire of the Rising Sun. Its enormous extent of coast-line, with countless indentations, especially numerous on the south-eastern coasts of Hon-shū, Shi-koku, and Kiū-shū, its many excellent harbours, naturally fortified by reason of the narrow entrances to the gulfs in which they are situated—for example: Nagasaki, in Kiū-shū, the naval stations at Sasebo, in the same island, Kure, in the Inland Sea, and Yoko-suka, near Tōkio Bay—and, above all, the excellence of its seafaring population, supply the elements that give Japan the mastery in Far Eastern waters.
Seafaring Qualities of Japanese
In the thousands of hamlets nestling in the bays, large and small, and creeks of the Japanese islands, dwells a hardy race of fishermen, inured to peril and fatigue, men of brawny strength and indomitable pluck, frugal and enduring, as fine material for the manning of warships and trading craft as the world has ever known. The persistence of those seafaring qualities which the Japanese owe chiefly to the natural advantages of their island home—partly, no doubt, to a strain of the blood of Malay sea-rovers, perhaps also of Polynesian canoe-men—is a remarkable phenomenon. In olden times they were bold seafarers, roaming as far as the Philippines and the coast of Indo-China. The waters of Formosa and of Siam were the scene of their piratical exploits, for, like all nations destined to be great at sea, they passed through a period when the spirit of adventure, as much as the lust for spoil, made them into daring sea-robbers.
But, with the closing of Japan to foreign intercourse—save on a strictly limited scale—early in the seventeenth century, came the enactment of laws devised to prevent the Japanese from visiting foreign parts; the tonnage and build of ships were fixed by these decrees in such a manner that only fishing and coasting trips were thenceforward possible. This prohibition lasted for two centuries and a half; yet, on its removal, the germ of the seafaring qualities, supposed to have died out, was found to have been only in a state of suspended animation; it revived with surprising rapidity. In less than a quarter of a century it produced a naval personnel capable of manning a highly efficient fleet of thirty-three sea-going fighting-ships; in ten years more the amazed world recognised Japan’s Navy as the triumphant victor in the greatest battle since Trafalgar, and coupled Admiral Togo’s name with that of Nelson.
The Sea as Japan’s Friend
The sea has, indeed, ever been Japan’s friend; to this day it supports a large number of the population, and, in a sense, it may be said to keep the whole nation alive, as the fish that teem in Japanese waters supply a considerable part of the people’s food. Every marine product available as nutriment is utilised, even seaweed of various kinds being largely used as food. Fishing seems to have been practised from the earliest times; it is probably in recognition of its antiquity and national importance that the Japanese of our day still affix to any gift a strip of dried seaweed, passed through a piece of paper peculiarly folded, the idea they thus symbolise being, it is said: “This is but a trumpery present, but it comes from a cheerful giver; be pleased to take it as it is meant. Remember our forefathers were poor fisherfolk; this strip of seaweed is to remind you that poverty is no crime.”
Japan’s Beautiful Scenery
There are many other customs connected with the harvest of the sea, and innumerable legends and folk-tales wherein the chief part is played by some marine spirit or by a visitor—deity or mortal—to the mysterious realms of the deep. And deep it is, for, off the eastern coast of Northern Japan, the sea-bed falls abruptly to a depression—the famous Tuscarora Deep, called after the United States warship of that name—of 4,655 fathoms, nearly 28,000 ft., or more than five miles, probably the deepest sea-bed in the world. The encircling sea forms an important part of most of the beautiful pictures the scenery of Japan offers to the delighted eye. Whether the waves dash tumultuously against the precipitous rocks of the south-eastern side of the main islands, especially of Shi-koku and Kiū-shū; whether the waters dance in the sunshine in the countless bays and creeks of those coasts where the frequency of the shelter afforded to fishing-craft led to an earlier and more dense settlement than on the north-west coast of Hon-shū; whether the far-famed Inland Sea shines like a mirror under the moonbeams, or the Sea of Japan tosses its grey billows or spreads a sullen expanse under the pall of fog caused by the meeting of warm and cold currents—in all its moods the ocean forms part of nearly all the grandest scenery of Japan.
