Nemuro Strait Notsuke Peninsula

I  moved on from Nemuro, on another misty day, with a repaired paddle. On this coastline that faces the Kuril islands (that are under Russian control)There was an easy day or maybe two. Then came a section with salmon nets, hundreds of salmon nets, that made it very difficult and ultimately impractical to make progress staying inshore. The nets are secured to land and hung from a taut cable-like line that runs about a mile out to sea.

A detour was required around a sand spit (Notsuke Peninsula), about 8 miles off the main shoreline. I tested my paddle before the wind came in properly and it creaked and flexed, and then a different part of the shaft cracked. A proper leaning on would snap it again (and did, when I got to shore). Time for a new paddle.

The nets became more densely packed. Off the spit there was a raucous current tearing through, and a Japanese navy ship, and beyond that, the nearest of the Kuril islands. I stayed inshore, employing a variety of techniques to hurdle over or limbo under the nets. But the game became too difficult. At the next of the nets the current had hold of me and fired me into the line and threw me forward. Soon after came a tumble where I put my knee through the board, then another where the current shot me into the line and in the resulting fall my hand went through the sail.

I landed a mile on, where I could, knowing that to continue would do more damage. I repaired sail and board as best I could. The wind on this part of the spit was strong and blowing offshore. My instincts had been telling me to stay inshore. But the only route is a mile out, beyond the reach of the nets. Near to evening, I was repaired and knew the wind wouldn't increase more. I sailed out for a mile and then, beyond the ends of the nets, raced to the town of Shibetsu in a solid force 5 offshore wind. It wasn't safe - there would be no possibility of reaching land in the event of breakage - but at least it was fast.

As I neared Shibetsu town it wasn't clear where to head back inside the nets to reach the port. I chose wrong and still had one net to hurdle. There was a gate (of sorts) near to the port. The gates have half a dozen lines to clear but the lines are at least possible to submerge. Fishing boats with enclosed propellers can pass straight over. I have used the gates before, but not with strong wind and this torrent of a current. By the penultimate line I had been blown and pulled diagonally and the mast tip caught under a line and was being dragged under it. There was no way to pull it back. I had to think and act fast. To save being pinned, and to save the rig from being savaged by the current, I unclipped it at the mast base and let if pass under the line, then hoiked it back to reattach it to the board. Next I hauled myself up-current along the line and then - with all my effort - leant on the line via the paddle to let the fin pass over the line. A mess. A physical scrap that leaves me panting for breathe. A good outcome, but I know that a far lesser muddle could end in tragedy.

Drama over, but boy am I tired that everything is so difficult. I feel sympathy for the wildlife. The fishing makes this relatively gentle section of coast a hostile environment. Early in the day I had become entangled. And once free I had been hindered by a clump of gear that wouldn't let go. Old gear or new gear, whatever is out there is still fishing.

Why are there so many nets? Is it because there are fewer fish? Some days later I visit a salmon museum. Catches have fallen from 20,000 tonnes around year 2000 to about 4,000 tonnes 20 years later.  The salmon museum cites global warming and sea temperature rise as possible causes. I saw no mention of overfishing as a possible contributor. On another display board, a map of the nets shows no nets in the area I where I had found them to be most abundant. The museum visit was important, and there is much more to be said, but for now I must skim over all that if this update is to get posted.

At Shibetsu this solo trip because a more social affair. A friend of mine, Captain Pablo, who has recently arrived in Japan, got train and bike and came to find me. The next day was torrentially wet, but in the evening Yumiko arrived on her own road trip. Starboard Japan and the Japan Coastguard have helped out with an expedited delivery of a new paddle. The wave piercing nose is designed around the Starboard Lima 3-piece paddle, so it had to be this particular feather-light model.

Small hops got me first to Minehama, then Rausu, then to the "end of the road" Aidomari. The backdrop now is the high ground of the Shiretoko peninsula. To go beyond Aidomari, a paddle is important, because the peninsula is bear country and there are 2 or 3 days sailing/paddling without roads or towns. Many of the more tempting places to stop I have been advised against stopping by the national park authority.

Today isn't a good day for going round the end of Shiretoko, but tomorrow looks hopeful. A few pictures included from recent days.

Thanks again to Starboard Japan. Thanks as ever to Loftsails and Unifiber.