Week 1 in Japan
He kneels in the shadow cast by the planking of the boat, bent over the fine, ink-soaked thread. The light is almost palpable in the dust-soaked atmosphere. He pokes patiently, first with his fingers and then with a wire, quietly exclaiming when he can’t seem to get the thread through the hole. The blackened cotton from the inkwell lies at his knees like a piece of petrified coal glistening in the light. The wire scratches in and out, in and out. Another sigh. His hands are now stained with the ink. He is small but solid, firmly planted in the earth, unswaying. His knees are still. The faint movement of muscle is only visible in his arms and back. There is a delicacy of motion in his hands, as if he uses only the exact amount of gesture needed; he has a measured grace. In the background, there is the whisper of a chisel against stone, then the squish of wet cotton as it is stuffed back into the well. And then he stands quietly and places the now repaired tool on the workbench.
Nakagawa san is kind to us. He makes us coffees at lunch and gives us small treats at break times, ippuku (one cigarette) as he refers to them. He is curious, both about us and about other kinds of Japanese and western-style boats, a quality Douglas says is uncharacteristic of many of the other boatbuilders he has worked with here. I had prepared myself for an exacting tyrant, one who berated you for even the smallest mistake. Instead, we found ourselves working with a warm, smiling grandfather. If presented with a problem, Nakagawa san would simply chuckle, wave his hands in the air as if to wave away the worry, and say “ok, ok.”
Nakagawa san looking on as Douglas chisels out the area around a knot. Photo Credit: Ben Meader.
Nakagawa san, now 82 years old, started building boats after graduating from high school. He spent the first five years of his working life making wooden boats with his father; they built 6 different types:
itaawase – a farmer boat (literally plank built) very similar in style to the one we are building, which is the nouninawase
kitsuobune
sampasen – similar in style to the itaawase and nouninawase
korembo – the largest type
nagafune – long boat
koashibune – night soil boat
But then, they switched to building steel boats. He built 6 of the 30 steel dredgers that remain on the Shinano River in Niigata. He says, however, that he never forgot what he learned in those first 5 years.
Steel sand dredgers built at Nakagawa Shipyard. Photo Credit: Ben Meader.
Nakagawa Shipyard, where Nakagawa san and his son continue to work, sits alongside one of the tributaries of the Shinano. The bright blue corrugated façade of the main building contrasts starkly with the rusted outbuildings that surround it and with the dusty brown of the mountains in the distance. There is an old bus in the yard that appears to be used as lumber storage and a black Toyota Tacoma that looks like it might be more at home on Route 1 in Maine, along with the carcasses of several fiberglass boats, old toys, tires, and some large earth-moving machinery. As you ascend the metal staircase and pass through the sliding glass doors of the main building, the shelves lining the walls provide a tangible record of the passage of time. They are stacked high with anything and everything, all coated in a thick layer of grey dust. The workshop contains tools from Nakagawa san’s great-grandfather – such as a set of long-handled saws used to fit planking, hilted nail chisels, round bottom wooden planes – alongside routers, electric planers and brand new, unopened packages of consumables.
Part of Nakagawa san’s workshop. Photo Credit: Ben Meader.
After the first day of work with Nakagawa san, we quickly find a rhythm. Though work is slated to start at 8am, we come ready to work at 7:30 and work until sundown. We start with the bottom plank, or shiki, bunging all the knots, laying out the shape of the boat and cutting the correct bevel into the sides. Next, we prepare the side planking, which involves cleaning, planing, and then hoisting the enormous cedar planks up to the second floor using a motorized chain fall.
Planing the side planks with an electric planer before hoisting them up to the second floor where we have been building. Photo Credit: Ben Meader.
Once the side planks are ready, we prop them in place and fit them to the bottom, first with a coarse-toothed saw and then with a finer-toothed saw. We caulk the transoms at both ends with a mixture of urushi (lacquer) and panko, which Nakagawa san says makes it adhesive, and then use the tsubanomi, or nail chisel, to make holes for the nails.
Propping the side planking in place. Photo Credit: Douglas Brooks.
With the side planking fastened in, we caulk the seams with the inner bark of the cypress tree and putty over them with more urushi, this time mixed with panko and sawdust to form a sticky paste. We plug any remaining holes and then it is time for the finish work: hand planing each surface of the boat, inside and out.
Douglas caulks the one of the seams on the bottom of the boat with the inner bark of a cypress tree. Photo Credit: Ben Meader.
On the final day before launching, Nakagawa san asks us to carve our initials in the sides of the boat, a practice that is uncommon for the builders. Usually, he does not mark his boats with his own name. Instead, they are carved with a symbol representing the family of the owner. But Nakagawa san says, it’s not every day that a group of foreigners come to build a boat in Japan.
Nakagawa san insisted that we carve our initials into the boat. We carved each of our first initials and the kanji for ship, maru, into each side of the boat before inking the letters. Photo Credit: Douglas Brooks.
We use the chain fall to pick the boat up and bring it down to the first floor of the shop, laying it to rest bow first, right at the edge of the water. A plank placed across the sheers holds a bowl of salt, for purification, a bottle of sake, and a glass of water. Nakagawa san prays over the boat, bowing his head with eyes closed. He then opens the sake and pours it first onto the stern, into the middle of the boat, and last at the bow. The boat is pushed into the water and led by rope over to the nearby bank so we can tie up and climb inside. We step into the boat one by one, until the three of us are kneeling with paddles in hand, at the ready. Spectators release the ropes and quickly, we drift downriver. The current is strong but the boat handles lightly, turning easily with skillful steering from the back. We turn the boat around in the water three times, ferrying from one bank to the other, drifting down and then pulling to come back up against the current.
Hoisting the boat using the chain fall to bring it down to the first floor of the workshop. Photo Credit: Douglas Brooks.
So far, our first week in Japan has been enjoyable, if not somewhat exhausting. With little time to adjust to jet-lag and a slight change of diet, we’ve been on an early morning schedule to get internet at the local 7/11 before work, going to bed shortly after dinner once we get back.
Nakagawa san performs a Shinto launch ceremony down by the river. Photo Credit: Douglas Brooks.
Japanese customs are centered on honor, harmony, politeness, and showing respect to form. In particular we’ve enjoyed the wonderful hospitality and the care with which simple things are done—for instance, the care with which receipts are handed from the cash register or the focus and attention given to the exchanging business cards. Nothing seems unintentional or done in half-measures.
Taking the boat for a spin in a tributary of the Shinano River. Photo Credit: Douglas Brooks.
You can see more photos of the project here.