On August 9, 1945, Nagasaki was the target of the United States' second atomic bomb attack (and the second detonation of a plutonium bomb; the first was tested in central New Mexico, USA) at 11:02 a.m., when the north of the city was destroyed in less than a second, and an estimated 70,000 people were killed by the bomb codenamed "Fat Man." 

According to statistics found within Nagasaki Peace Park, the death toll from the atomic bombing totaled 73,884, including 2,000 Korean forced workers and eight POWs, as well as another 74,909 injured, and another several hundred thousand diseased and dying from fallout and other illness caused by radiation. On the day of the bombing, an estimated 263,000 were in Nagasaki, including 240,000 Japanese residents, 10,000 Korean residents, 2,500 conscripted Korean workers, 9,000 Japanese soldiers, 600 conscripted Chinese workers, and 400 prisoners of war. The bomb was somewhat more powerful than the "Little Boy" bomb dropped over Hiroshima, but because of Nagasaki's more uneven terrain, there was less damage.

After the war the city was rebuilt after the war, albeit dramatically changed. New temples were built, as well as new churches owing to an increase in the presence of Christianity. Some of the rubble was left as a memorial, such as a one-legged torii gate and an arch near ground zero. New structures were also raised as memorials, such as the Atomic Bomb Museum. Nagasaki remains first and foremost a port city, supporting a rich ship building industry and setting a strong example of perseverance and peace.

On January 4, 2005, the towns of Iōjima, Kōyagi, Nomozaki, Sanwa, Sotome and Takashima (all from Nishisonogi District) were merged into Nagasaki.

Chapter 10  -  PIRATES   33⁰ N, 129⁰ E   Nagasaki, Japan

 (extract from: The $Billion Dollar Whale by Jameson Hunter © 2014)

The ancient seaport of Nagasaki has been open to Western trade since Portuguese explorers first reached Japan in 1543.  Nagasaki harbour is on the Island of Kyushu facing west into the East China Sea, the third largest of the four main islands Japanese Islands. The main harbour front caters for large and medium sized commercial vessels from all over the world, who disgorge their containers to giant mechanical crane handlers, looking more like automatons in a science fiction scene than the everyday business of trade; other ships unloading raw materials such as iron ore and fuels, and loading cars, computers and other consumer products, which are aggressively exported to make Japan the third largest economy in the world after the United States of America. Further into the harbour the Motofunamachi region provided moorings for recreational boats and two medium size fishing vessels, or MFVs.

Shui Razor drove his battered Toyota pick up into the lower harbour parking area with a flurry of dust and suspension bounce, braking rapidly to a halt, street racer style. Switching off the ignition, he turned to his business confederate, Stang Lee, and smiled. Both men nodded and stepped out of the truck. They’d been servicing their illegal fishing operation for the last eight years from a large wooden shed in the corner of the car park and had been working together ever since they were mere boys.  Shui, the lighter of the two men was the dominant partner, athletic and toned, with olive skin and short black hair. He wore a tight T shirt and navy trousers on hot nights like this. They were both captains of similar class medium sized fishing vessels fitted out for whaling, although hunting whales had long ago been banned internationally and quotas for scientific research were already taken by bigger ships, such as the infamous Nisshin Maru. Yet the demand for black market meats and oils was such that unprincipled men could not resist the temptation for easy riches such an opportunity presented. Especially so, when port officials turned a blind eye, provided they kept their operation clean and contributed to the local economy with hush money and legitimate spend.

Being unprincipled is however a state of mind and must be weighed against tradition and needs. The Japanese have been a whaling nation since before recorded history. Most Japanese people are descendants of migrants from mainland Asia, also great fish eaters. Legend has it that Jimmu, Japan’s first emperor ascended the throne in 660 BC, when the native religion was Shinto. In the 5^th century the Yamato clan established the Japanese state, when Kyoto became the imperial capital. Kyoto was also the venue for an important environmental summit meeting at the turn of the century, where fishing and whaling quotas were on the agenda and Japan argued for increased tonnage as a traditional and valuable food resource for the nations rapidly expanding population. Iceland too, has argued similarly. These calls were outvoted.

So it was the trade continued despite a diminishing whale population once more and increasingly unpopular international press. Tonight was a good night for whalers, who were modern pirates of the high seas, hated by most other countries for the cruelty to whales inflicted during the harpooning and butchering process.; even though, whales are such peaceful creatures.

Further back from the main cargo loading docks and somewhat obscured by the activity in the fore port, the lower dockside was its usual mixture of smart modern passenger ferries and private pleasure boats. Back still further upriver were a motley collection of fishing vessels, nevertheless, important to the huge demand for food, where the Japanese cannot grow enough crops or farm sufficient animals to feed themselves where only 15% of the land is useable in such mountainous terrain. Hence, they rely on fish and catch more than any other country except China.

Looking up at the stars, Shui took in a deep breath. “Tonight is good night for fishing, no?”

“Yes,” replied his friend. “We have our boats and our wits and the gods have provided this wonderful scene.” The water gently lapped at the dockside timbers. There was hardly a cloud in the sky and a warm vaguely tropical breeze enveloped them.

Stang Lee was shorter and stockier. He’d once been a prize fighter on the streets. In fact this was how the two men met over a decade ago. As teenagers they’d been working for rival promoters. Each boy knew of the other’s reputation and was billed as a champion for a bet fight. They fought well, a mixture of bare knuckle boxing and undisciplined martial arts kicking. Both combatants sustained serious blows and launched equally devastating attacks. Shui had been the victor, but only just. They were well matched. After the bout the youths became good friends, in recognition of the skill of the other. Later, they discovered they shared a love of the sea.

Today, they each commanded their own pirate whaling vessel. ‘Pirate,’ because once in international waters, they were operating contrary to international convention, pirates nevertheless. It needs a confident man to take charge of the waterfront hands that signed on for each sortie and whip them into a cohesive crew. Yet these two friends managed to do just that and had done it rather well for many good years. They now had crews who were reliable and depended on the skills of their captain to secure their living. Through this combination of ruthless command they brought in catch after catch of fine whale meats and oils commanding up to $300 a kilo for black market distribution. Whale oils are used by many specialist cosmetic and pharmaceutical concerns. Such products are exclusive and expensive due to the black market layer and irregular supply.

The ‘Suzy Wong’ had seen better days with rust liberally spread about the two-tone cream upper and red oxide lower hull. ‘Jonah’, Stang Lee’s boat, was only slightly newer but shaped by the same builder of steel plate and newly painted. So, only a few streaks of rust here and there.

“Congratulations, you beat me again!” Shui shouted at Stang. They were surveying their respective boats with some degree of pride.

“I’ve learned from a master!” shouted back Stang, bowing with hands clasped to his chest.

The crews were still loading some crates of supplies and weaponry. The captains boarded their boats. Stang ordered forward and aft mooring lines cast off.

“Shui,” Stang yelled across again. “Watch my wake and weep.” He started his engine. Froth churned from under his stern, the rudder swung to starboard and ‘Jonah’ lurched from the dockside heading south-west down the harbour channel and out into the Pacific Ocean vastness. Stang turned back and waved to his partner.

Shui yelled over the cacophony of diesel exhaust and water wash, “Good hunting old friend,” and returned the wave. Both men preferred a little distance between them, but there was always a little competition to get away from the harbour first. Shui ordered his mooring lines cast off and fired his engine up. He then steered for the Magami Ohashi suspension bridge at quarter throttle, soon passing under that structure heading into  the East China Sea via Iojimatodai Park and the open ocean. The hunt was on.

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