My Life during Yonaguni’s Prosperous Era
Ms. Chieko Nagahama
Birth year：1933
Birth place：Yonaguni Town
Yonaguni air raids
My father died when I was young. Supporting three children alone, life really was difficult for my mother. When she was young, she worked in Taiwan as a live-in maid. She was given cooking work at a kimono shop. However, her employer then told her to quit cooking, and she instead became a seamstress. I think that she was good with her hands because she made things such as haori and hakama. She learned Japanese dressmaking techniques and returned to Yonaguni. As life at that time was not so luxurious, she only had sewing jobs during special occasions like New Year’s and weddings and ordinarily earned her livelihood by weaving.
I was in my fourth year of elementary school when the war began. During class, we suddenly heard a loud, explosive sound. A U.S. military plane was flying over the school at low altitude. It was flying toward the western part of this island. At the time, there was a dried bonito factory that way, in Kubura. The factory had a tall chimney, and, seemingly mistaking it for a military factory, the U.S. army dropped flares in the area. The village of Kubura erupted in flames. It seemed horrific for everyone.
I was 13 years old at the time. Back then, people had the custom of 13- and 25-years-old celebrations for girls living at home who were not married yet. For my 13-years-old celebration, my mother cooked rice with red beans and other treats, and our whole family gathered at the table. When I asked her why, she said it was for my celebration. While we were eating, an air raid began. We ate while taking precautions such as covering the lamps to prevent the light from being visible and setting up tatami mats to prevent injury from any blasts. A member of the brigade shouted,“Air raid! Incoming air raid!”, and urged us to get to our air-raid shelter. Things around us were thrown into panic. My mother packed the still uneaten food she had prepared into a basket, and we went to evacuate, but we were unable to. We were an all-female household, with just a single mother, and hadn’t even been able to dig an air raid shelter near our home. We just stood tatami mats up in the house, and crouched down between them.
After that, everyone left Sonai village, and evacuated to a shelter. We did the same. We took refuge in a relative’s cattle barn. We cut pampas grass and creeping plants (sweet potato leaves), and spread it out over the cow droppings. We also spread some matting out on top of that, and managed to spend a few days there. It was difficult to walk on the mats. While the mat would have been too smelly to sleep on under normal circumstances, the shock and fear from the air raid and our life in evacuation kept us from being bothered by the smell. We were able to eat our food without issue too.
The food situation during the war
During the war, sweet potatoes were a staple food. If you had sweet potatoes to eat, things were comparatively good. We could grow sweet potatoes in the field, but there were no other foods. Even if we wanted to buy other foods, we weren’t able to. As pesticides weren’t used at that time, when it rained a lot of snails would appear under the trees and on creeping plants at the edge of the fields. We took many home and put them in our soup broths. We also ate whatever wild plants we could. We helped our mother raise sweet potatoes and prepare meals. The people living next to our shelter brought us whatever we were lacking, and we somehow managed to survive.
Entering a vocational high school
After the war ended, my mother was the only one working. As we also had my two younger sisters with us, after I finished my sixth year of elementary school my mother asked me to start working for the family. I saw how hard she was working, so I couldn’t object. Sometime after that, a vocational school was established in what is now the site of a former airfield. I told my mother that I was determined to attend the school for two years, and with tears streaming down my cheeks, I left home to do so.
Dressmaking work and a prosperous economy
After graduating from the vocational school, I enrolled in a dressmaking school in Sonai. I felt strongly about doing my best there to learn dressmaking and support my family. Having learned dressmaking quickly and also possessing my sewing experience, I set out on my own and began dressmaking work in Sonai. I sewed for orders that came in from various places.
At the time, various fabrics were being sent from Taiwan to Kubura. Restaurants were also booming, with around 60 such establishments. Many orders started coming in from Kubura as well. When I was around 20, I moved to Kubura and continued working as a dressmaker. The economy was truly flourishing then. There were so many food stalls around what is now the pier and almost no room to stand. Kubura’s economy was booming, so people would come from Sonai to sell the rice cakes and tofu they had made. There were no buses back then, so they would walk around carrying and selling their goods. Fish vendors would put their catches in a basin called an “achi-ru,” and balance it on their head as they walked around trying to make sales. The distance from Sonai to Kubura was around two li (eight kilometers). The roads were in poor condition then. When it rained, they became muddy. On such days, going to Kubura required a horse.
The economy was going strong immediately after the war and I brought in a person from Taiwan to live in my home. Local products arrived from Taiwan and various boxed goods like foodstuffs and HBT uniforms (U.S. military uniforms) were sent from the main island of Okinawa. I didn’t really know the contents of those boxes very well, but people traded them for other goods, which were then brought back to Taiwan and Okinawa Island. People from the main island brought Taiwanese goods into Naha. I’ve heard people say that. A great many people would trade for a variety of Taiwanese goods, like cosmetics and fabrics, and bring them back to Yonaguni Island. There were many people older than me doing that. The piers at Kubura Port were in shallow water, and ships couldn’t enter during low tide. Ships would stop a short distance out, and their cargo would be brought to the port using small boats called sampan. This meant that laborers were needed to transport the goods like this. This high demand for cargo transportation, resulted in many people coming to Kubura. Eggs were piling up in my yard, and they said the economy was so incredible that even the birds wouldn’t eat fallen rice grains. A lot of fruits also came in from Taiwan, and life was good. Men made money during the day, and ate and drank at bars at night. It’s no longer there, but at the time there was an underground air raid shelter across the road from my home. There was a bar down there. It’s a marvel how they even managed to construct the building in a place like that. There were bars in various places like that. There were about 60 bars throughout the village of Kubura. Things were really thriving.
A female relative brought me to Kubura. As there was a lack of seamstresses in Kubura, I moved into a relative’s home there. Customers would bring in their fabric with some promising to pay double if the job was finished by that evening. That’s how prosperous things were. I was very busy with orders like this. I didn’t even have time to sleep. I couldn’t finish all the work on time by myself, so I bought a few more sewing machines and hired assistance. At the time, electricity was only available until 10:00 p.m. After that, we would work by lamp. I think the power company was experiencing shortages at that time. It was extremely exhausting, but it was profitable. After a time, I got married to someone from Kubura, so I was unable to return to Sonai. That was my life then.
This boom period lasted from 1945 to 1947. By 1949, the economy was waning. The reason was the U.S. military cracking down on smuggling. Such efforts were frequent, which created a tough situation for us. With the economy quickly worsening, people returned to their own islands, and those with boats switched to fishing for work. Before we knew it, the boom was over. The economy took off in 1945, but by 1949 the prosperity had faded away. Back when the economy was strong, Yonaguni’s population had increased to 12,000 and in December 1947 the village officially became a town.
Circumstances in the fishing village of Yonaguni
My husband was a fisherman, and as fishing was thriving in Kubura, he built three fishing boats at once: No. 1, No. 2, and No. 3. One boat required seven fishermen. If you were spearfishing for marlin, if you didn’t have enough hands, you just couldn’t do it. Young people from Miyakojima and Itoman came for this reason, to fish. Those who were married had their meals prepared for them, but with those who were single, I had to take care of their meals, which was exhausting. I worked so hard that I didn’t have time to sleep at night. Also, my father-in-law had a dried bonito factory. I also had to cook meals for the dozens of workers there.
Smuggling with Taiwan
Because my husband had boats, he was also engaged in smuggling. My husband would cut his business card in half, and give one piece to the cargo recipient on the Taiwan side. He’d give the other half to the person carrying the cargo from Yonaguni Island. If the two halves matched perfectly when they met, the goods would then be handed over. That’s how they could tell. The seal he used in those dealings was made in Taiwan. As these dealings took him in and out of Taiwan, my husband was able to speak a little Taiwanese. He also worked as a sailor in Taiwan for several months when he lost his boats. Apparently he picked up a bit of the language, always hearing it there. Sometimes he would bring his Taiwanese trading partner to our home, to stay overnight and trade for goods. I’d often see them loading goods onto the boat.
A message for young people
Do not go to war. I want someone to explain just why we need to go to war. I’d like our world to become one where we can live in peace. The last thing I want is for my children and grandchildren’s generation to experience war.
Ms. Chieko Nagahama thrived in post-war smuggling operations with Taiwan. She worked in the village of Kubura, in dressmaking. She also provided support to her ship-owner husband, who traveled back and forth over the border with Taiwan, and aided the sailors, in a variety of ways. Nowadays, she continues to apply the dressmaking techniques she learned when she was young using traditional Yonaguni textiles and manufacturing clothing, etc.
Yonaguni air raids
My father died when I was young. Supporting three children alone, life really was difficult for my mother. When she was young, she worked in Taiwan as a live-in maid. She was given cooking work at a kimono shop. However, her employer then told her to quit cooking, and she instead became a seamstress. I think that she was good with her hands because she made things such as haori and hakama. She learned Japanese dressmaking techniques and returned to Yonaguni. As life at that time was not so luxurious, she only had sewing jobs during special occasions like New Year’s and weddings and ordinarily earned her livelihood by weaving.
I was in my fourth year of elementary school when the war began. During class, we suddenly heard a loud, explosive sound. A U.S. military plane was flying over the school at low altitude. It was flying toward the western part of this island. At the time, there was a dried bonito factory that way, in Kubura. The factory had a tall chimney, and, seemingly mistaking it for a military factory, the U.S. army dropped flares in the area. The village of Kubura erupted in flames. It seemed horrific for everyone.
I was 13 years old at the time. Back then, people had the custom of 13- and 25-years-old celebrations for girls living at home who were not married yet. For my 13-years-old celebration, my mother cooked rice with red beans and other treats, and our whole family gathered at the table. When I asked her why, she said it was for my celebration. While we were eating, an air raid began. We ate while taking precautions such as covering the lamps to prevent the light from being visible and setting up tatami mats to prevent injury from any blasts. A member of the brigade shouted,“Air raid! Incoming air raid!”, and urged us to get to our air-raid shelter. Things around us were thrown into panic. My mother packed the still uneaten food she had prepared into a basket, and we went to evacuate, but we were unable to. We were an all-female household, with just a single mother, and hadn’t even been able to dig an air raid shelter near our home. We just stood tatami mats up in the house, and crouched down between them.
After that, everyone left Sonai village, and evacuated to a shelter. We did the same. We took refuge in a relative’s cattle barn. We cut pampas grass and creeping plants (sweet potato leaves), and spread it out over the cow droppings. We also spread some matting out on top of that, and managed to spend a few days there. It was difficult to walk on the mats. While the mat would have been too smelly to sleep on under normal circumstances, the shock and fear from the air raid and our life in evacuation kept us from being bothered by the smell. We were able to eat our food without issue too.
The food situation during the war
During the war, sweet potatoes were a staple food. If you had sweet potatoes to eat, things were comparatively good. We could grow sweet potatoes in the field, but there were no other foods. Even if we wanted to buy other foods, we weren’t able to. As pesticides weren’t used at that time, when it rained a lot of snails would appear under the trees and on creeping plants at the edge of the fields. We took many home and put them in our soup broths. We also ate whatever wild plants we could. We helped our mother raise sweet potatoes and prepare meals. The people living next to our shelter brought us whatever we were lacking, and we somehow managed to survive.
Entering a vocational high school
After the war ended, my mother was the only one working. As we also had my two younger sisters with us, after I finished my sixth year of elementary school my mother asked me to start working for the family. I saw how hard she was working, so I couldn’t object. Sometime after that, a vocational school was established in what is now the site of a former airfield. I told my mother that I was determined to attend the school for two years, and with tears streaming down my cheeks, I left home to do so.
Dressmaking work and a prosperous economy
After graduating from the vocational school, I enrolled in a dressmaking school in Sonai. I felt strongly about doing my best there to learn dressmaking and support my family. Having learned dressmaking quickly and also possessing my sewing experience, I set out on my own and began dressmaking work in Sonai. I sewed for orders that came in from various places.
At the time, various fabrics were being sent from Taiwan to Kubura. Restaurants were also booming, with around 60 such establishments. Many orders started coming in from Kubura as well. When I was around 20, I moved to Kubura and continued working as a dressmaker. The economy was truly flourishing then. There were so many food stalls around what is now the pier and almost no room to stand. Kubura’s economy was booming, so people would come from Sonai to sell the rice cakes and tofu they had made. There were no buses back then, so they would walk around carrying and selling their goods. Fish vendors would put their catches in a basin called an “achi-ru,” and balance it on their head as they walked around trying to make sales. The distance from Sonai to Kubura was around two li (eight kilometers). The roads were in poor condition then. When it rained, they became muddy. On such days, going to Kubura required a horse.
The economy was going strong immediately after the war and I brought in a person from Taiwan to live in my home. Local products arrived from Taiwan and various boxed goods like foodstuffs and HBT uniforms (U.S. military uniforms) were sent from the main island of Okinawa. I didn’t really know the contents of those boxes very well, but people traded them for other goods, which were then brought back to Taiwan and Okinawa Island. People from the main island brought Taiwanese goods into Naha. I’ve heard people say that. A great many people would trade for a variety of Taiwanese goods, like cosmetics and fabrics, and bring them back to Yonaguni Island. There were many people older than me doing that. The piers at Kubura Port were in shallow water, and ships couldn’t enter during low tide. Ships would stop a short distance out, and their cargo would be brought to the port using small boats called sampan. This meant that laborers were needed to transport the goods like this. This high demand for cargo transportation, resulted in many people coming to Kubura. Eggs were piling up in my yard, and they said the economy was so incredible that even the birds wouldn’t eat fallen rice grains. A lot of fruits also came in from Taiwan, and life was good. Men made money during the day, and ate and drank at bars at night. It’s no longer there, but at the time there was an underground air raid shelter across the road from my home. There was a bar down there. It’s a marvel how they even managed to construct the building in a place like that. There were bars in various places like that. There were about 60 bars throughout the village of Kubura. Things were really thriving.
A female relative brought me to Kubura. As there was a lack of seamstresses in Kubura, I moved into a relative’s home there. Customers would bring in their fabric with some promising to pay double if the job was finished by that evening. That’s how prosperous things were. I was very busy with orders like this. I didn’t even have time to sleep. I couldn’t finish all the work on time by myself, so I bought a few more sewing machines and hired assistance. At the time, electricity was only available until 10:00 p.m. After that, we would work by lamp. I think the power company was experiencing shortages at that time. It was extremely exhausting, but it was profitable. After a time, I got married to someone from Kubura, so I was unable to return to Sonai. That was my life then.
This boom period lasted from 1945 to 1947. By 1949, the economy was waning. The reason was the U.S. military cracking down on smuggling. Such efforts were frequent, which created a tough situation for us. With the economy quickly worsening, people returned to their own islands, and those with boats switched to fishing for work. Before we knew it, the boom was over. The economy took off in 1945, but by 1949 the prosperity had faded away. Back when the economy was strong, Yonaguni’s population had increased to 12,000 and in December 1947 the village officially became a town.
Circumstances in the fishing village of Yonaguni
My husband was a fisherman, and as fishing was thriving in Kubura, he built three fishing boats at once: No. 1, No. 2, and No. 3. One boat required seven fishermen. If you were spearfishing for marlin, if you didn’t have enough hands, you just couldn’t do it. Young people from Miyakojima and Itoman came for this reason, to fish. Those who were married had their meals prepared for them, but with those who were single, I had to take care of their meals, which was exhausting. I worked so hard that I didn’t have time to sleep at night. Also, my father-in-law had a dried bonito factory. I also had to cook meals for the dozens of workers there.
Smuggling with Taiwan
Because my husband had boats, he was also engaged in smuggling. My husband would cut his business card in half, and give one piece to the cargo recipient on the Taiwan side. He’d give the other half to the person carrying the cargo from Yonaguni Island. If the two halves matched perfectly when they met, the goods would then be handed over. That’s how they could tell. The seal he used in those dealings was made in Taiwan. As these dealings took him in and out of Taiwan, my husband was able to speak a little Taiwanese. He also worked as a sailor in Taiwan for several months when he lost his boats. Apparently he picked up a bit of the language, always hearing it there. Sometimes he would bring his Taiwanese trading partner to our home, to stay overnight and trade for goods. I’d often see them loading goods onto the boat.
A message for young people
Do not go to war. I want someone to explain just why we need to go to war. I’d like our world to become one where we can live in peace. The last thing I want is for my children and grandchildren’s generation to experience war.
Ms. Chieko Nagahama thrived in post-war smuggling operations with Taiwan. She worked in the village of Kubura, in dressmaking. She also provided support to her ship-owner husband, who traveled back and forth over the border with Taiwan, and aided the sailors, in a variety of ways. Nowadays, she continues to apply the dressmaking techniques she learned when she was young using traditional Yonaguni textiles and manufacturing clothing, etc.