The Breath of the Ama - Riding the Roar of the Tide

The Breath of the Ama -  Riding the Roar of the Tide

Pew, ew Pew, ew

The clear sound of the “seaweed flute,” like birdsong, echoes along the shore. It is the breath of the ama; who free-dive using only simple tools to gather shellfish and seaweed one by one, who dive over ten meters deep seeking the sea's bounty. It is said to be the sound made when they exhale all the air remaining in their lungs after surfacing. Resonating amidst the sound of the waves, its tone is neither bird nor human—a mournful, soul-piercing “ ama's shore whistle.” Wanting to hear this sound became my dream.

Let us offer, 

wrapped, 

even the pearl of abalone

that is dived for 

and found in the far-off island of Okitsu-shima 

(now Hegura-jima)

a Man'yōshū poem said to have been composed in this place when the provincial governor Ōtomo no Yakamochi toured Noto during the Nara period (710–794).

In the habitats where marine shellfish and seaweed thrive, the ama carry out the fish. This method has been practiced exclusively in Korea and Japan for thousands of years. Abalone fishing, celebrated even in ancient Japanese poetry, remains primarily free diving by the ama today. Along with turban shells, sea urchins, and other species, they harvested across a wide area stretching from the Ise-Shima region—also a national park in Mie Prefecture—to the Kishu area. Currently, it is said that 1,200 ama are active nationwide. Their fishing method—diving into the sea without tanks or other diving equipment—is highly regarded as a model for sustainable fishing that coexists with nature, preventing overfishing and protecting resources. Recognizing the need to preserve this traditional free-diving fishing technique, which also holds significant cultural value, the “Toba-Shima Ama Divers,” a group of 500 divers, were designated as a Prefectural Intangible Cultural Property in January 2014.

Longing for the sea, I spent my 18th summer vacation living alone on Hachijojima for a month. Well, that's a lie. The truth is, a friend invited me to work a month-long stint at the Hachijojima Beer Garden. But that friend couldn't go, the beer garden fell through, and instead I ended up working at the island's only nightclub. What should have been a bright, lively summer beer garden job turned into a shady nighttime hostess gig ( I couldn't tell my parents). Working in a nightclub in the 80s meant standing on a stage flanked by huge speakers and singing karaoke into a microphone. While tipsy patrons sang nearby, I danced arm-in-arm with equally tipsy patrons to the tune of “Shall We Dance.” Since I was underage (no drinking), I spent that month feeling like Alice in Wonderland, silently wondering why on earth I was doing this, and what on earth I was doing here.

Since I was a minor I didn’t work as late as the others who slept until noon, meaning there was no one to spend time with during the day. I’d go to the sea and dive with whomever happened to be there. Hachijojima is dotted with diving spots featuring complex terrain like arches and caves. Benefiting from the Kuroshio Current, it boasts the deep, clear blue sea known as “Hachijo Blue.” Sea turtles and rare fish can be seen here, making diving very popular. But diving is an adult pastime. I could only snorkel, but I got close to the fish and then, later ate the fish and shellfish caught by the fishermen. The taste was incredible. Memories of delicious flavors are something you never forget. Ever since my time on Hachijojima, whenever I see water, I instinctively want to gauge its temperature, and I long for the taste of the sea. It's not that I want to do water sports. I think I'm seeking a primal experience, like some animalistic sensation.

This past summer in Japan has been unbearably hot—not just scorching, but sweltering. We endured days when temperatures consistently topped 95 degrees Fahrenheit. Amidst this, I went snorkeling with my sea companion off the Miura Peninsula. We slipped through gaps in the rocks, spotting fish and chasing them, riding cool currents as schools passed by. The seabed was mesmerizing—shallow in some spots, deep in others, truly beautiful. Turban shells, sea urchins, and sea cucumbers clung to the rocks. Black porgy, black sea bream, rockfish,(brownish-white fish), long-nosed butterflyfish (slender with shimmering green and pink scales), spotted pufferfish (yellow accents and black dot patterns), orange-spotted sea bream (beautiful orange with black lines), and butterflyfish (golden flatfish) swam by. Ah, just thinking about that fish for dinner made my mouth water. “Don't take them, you'll get caught for poaching. Drones are flying over the sea, and the Coast Guard patrols secretly, so be careful,” warns Mr. Kii (a fisherman). Later, Mr. Kii and his wife cooked the turban shells, rockfish, and stingray for our lunch. Thank you for the meal.

The island of Okitsu-shima (present-day Hekura Island) written about in the Man'yōshū is located in Wajima City, Ishikawa Prefecture. It suffered damage equivalent to seismic intensity, six plus, during the Noto Peninsula Earthquake that occurred on January 1, 2024. The earthquake triggered extensive crustal deformation, seafloor disturbance, and landslides, causing massive amounts of sediment to flow into the sea. These impacts reportedly led to water quality deterioration, sediment accumulation on the seafloor, physical destruction of ecosystems, and a sea that has completely changed. The local ama cannot return to their former ways and yet are still engaged in recovery efforts.

Global warming has been significant, with the central Sea of Japan experiencing a 1.8°C rise in average water temperature over the past century. Fish species previously found only in southern waters have begun inhabiting these areas. I've heard this from Mr. Kii (an oceanography specialist, who loves the sea, studied oceanography, and even obtained a fishing license to be a fisherman, but his main job is as an insurance agent. Truly a Renaissance man who can do anything). Mr. Kii, who harvests seaweed and produces nori in Yokosuka, is concerned about the rising water temperatures. He worries that seaweed harvesting in Ariake and Yokosuka might become impossible. The vivid colors of the fish swimming there are likely due to their migration northward from the south. While fish can swim to more suitable habitats, immobile organisms like coral and shellfish probably cannot survive.

Japan is an arc-shaped archipelago surrounded by the Sea of Japan, the Pacific Ocean, the Sea of Okhotsk, and the East China Sea. Due to active seismic and volcanic activity and the influence of seasonal winds, temperatures fluctuate significantly. The country constantly faces meteorological phenomena like the rainy season and typhoons, making it perpetually at risk of natural disasters. On the other hand, it has overcome these harsh natural environments, built its culture, and has acquired the wisdom to harness nature's bounty, strengthening both agriculture and fishing. And will likely overcome it again in the future. Yet the terrifying thing is that the changes threatening our natural environment continue to spread and intensify. I cannot stop wishing intensely for some way to improve the Earth's environment. I believe the only path forward is for each and every one of us to consider what we can do, to sound the alarm about what is wrong, to strive to prevent it, and to work on solutions for improvement.

Blow a deep throat whistle, like ama's breath, and ride the roar of the tide.

Thank you for reading my newsletter of October 2025.

-Yuh Okano