They had utterly perfect diving form. We were in awe of how long these two could hold their breath—and thanks to this skill, they always returned to the surface with beautiful purple urchins in hand. After each dive, they celebrated every urchin (or uni) as if it was their biggest win yet. It was clear they loved being in the water and doing the thing they do best—freediving for seafood.
Marla and Adam were taking turns diving down in the shallows to collect their handful of urchins. As seasoned freedivers, they were picking it up quickly and coming back time and time again with all the goods. Now the four of them were celebrating, with lots of “woo, you did it’s” (or ya ta’s) being thrown around—their cheers carrying over the water. And then there was me, sitting at the surface.
Kiku and Aiko had asked if I knew how to duck dive and if I was able to collect urchins too. Feeling silly that the two of them even had to ask, I guess it was a good question at the time. Having borrowed gear from Kiku, the sizing was just enough off that it showed. Especially when it came to the masks—the three of us looked like we had oversized bug eyes. While everyone else was diving, I was fiddling with my gear trying to get each component to work as it should.
I assured Kiku my time was coming. I was going to prove to everyone I could get some urchins too. After a few observations of how everyone else was doing it, I was feeling ready to whip out my very best duck diving. With my work tool in hand, I was to scrape the urchin off the rocks and bring it up for my very own cheer with the group. I wanted that celebratory “woo” from Kiku and Aiko so badly too!
Ducking down, I swam around looking for the perfect catch. My first find was an easy one, sitting neatly on a nearby rock. With a few scrapes I carefully brought my urchin back to the surface. Happy with MY big win, it was time to go back down again and prove that I too could be like these pro-level freedivers.
Ama, (translated to “women of the sea”) are Japanese divers known for their ability to plunge into the ocean's depths to collect shellfish, seaweed and other marine creatures without modern scuba equipment. This practice, rooted in a history spanning over 2,000 years, is a display of refined skill and endurance.
Ama divers brave the cold and rough waters, relying on centuries-old and uniquely developed breath-holding techniques. They represent a community defined by physical resilience and mental fortitude, values passed down through generations. Their connection to the sea is not only occupational but deeply cultural.
The sea is an essential aspect of their identity, with every dive characterized by skill and respect for the ocean. In a world advancing rapidly due to technology, the Ama put an emphasis on preserving tradition paired with impressive physical skill in the water. Their methods, though seemingly simple, are truly far from it when you watch them at work. Having to dive down repetitively, regardless of ocean condition, for your entire career leaves no room for error. Especially when your life depends on every catch.
Now, trying to learn the ways of these amazing women, we were accompanied by two of the next generation—rising stars in the world of Ama, where the average age of divers is well into their 60 or 70’s. Kiku (49 years old) and Aiko (44 years old), were there to supervise, showing us their ways and methods step by step, but also taking us back in time to how it all began.
As part of the training, each of us had a buoy with a bag attached to it. We were to drop each urchin into the buoy bag and keep going back down for more. Over and over. Wearing oversized gloves, wetsuits and hoods, we were suited up like the Ama. Only difference is that we were not wearing gear that adorned their two key symbols: the “seiman” (a single-stroke star) and the “doman” (a nine-hand seal.)
Traditionally, Ama wore all white garments and headscarves when diving. These symbols would be found on their gear to help protect them during each of their dives. Today, the women have modernized their look ever so slightly—wearing more contemporary diving gear, but still donning the seiman and doman on their hoods to keep them safe from the perils out to sea.
Feeling very confident and proud of myself for somewhat keeping up with the pack, I dove down again and collected up to four urchins for my bag. When I came up to the surface, my bug-eyed mask was flooding, my oversized gloves were falling off and my weight belt had moved from my hips to my chest. I was the definition of an urchin-covered mess.
Before I knew it, my mask was off and I’m trying to defog in real time. And just like that, I feel something penetrate my face. I had tiny urchin spines on my gloves and they had done their damage immediately upon contact with my face. I immediately felt the toxins doing their work, as the pain started to take full control. It’s funny how quick you can go from feeling like the coolest person in the water to feeling like a total dingus moments later.
Urchins have long, sharp spines. Typically the danger posed comes from inadvertently stepping on them, resulting in a painful puncture that is not deadly, but certainly unpleasant. In my case, I’d handled so many urchins while scraping them off the seafloor that their venomous remains on my hands managed to produce the same effect. Now besides just looking bug-eyed, I was balloon-faced with a long day ahead of me. Everyone, including Aiko and Kiku, had to laugh, solidifying my nickname as “Urchin Eyes.”
For the rest of the dive, my face was huge. One of my eyes was completely swollen shut, so I was forced to dive with one eye open. The scorching pain didn’t end up subsiding until three whole days later, after a lot of soaking in hot water. Without any vinegar nearby—which is usually the more effective cure—I had to ride this one out in full force.
Although I loved diving with the Ama, I’m certainly nowhere near ready to become one. The amount of mastery required to do this job takes almost a lifetime. We had the chance to meet with three legendary Ama in their 90’s, who recounted their journey in learning the trade. And they didn’t mention getting urchin spines all over their face, that’s for sure. Think that’s only reserved for a certain kind of dingus like me. What they did talk about was the hard work that went into the career for nearly sixty years—from their early 20’s well into the top of their 80’s.
The Ama’s proficiency in freediving was born out of necessity and honed by the drive for self-reliance. Every dive was a calculated risk, a balance of the dangers of the sea and the imperative to gather enough harvest. Both their workplace and a formidable adversary, the ocean demanded respect, skill and courage, if one was to plunge into it regularly. Over the years, Ama developed not only a technical expertise in navigating these waters but also an intuitive understanding of its rhythms, enhancing their efficiency and safety.
Walking through the small village streets of the Ise-Shima area is where we stumbled upon the ancient veterans. They let us come into their home, sit on their worn couch and regaled us with their stories of their past. They even gave us their home-made, bite-sized, colorful snacks called “Arare,” eaten during special occasions. We felt truly honored to be among women who had spent their entire lives diving these seas for food.
Laughing constantly, they were having fun trying to guess where we were from and asking us questions that we couldn’t understand. With our dedicated translator, Gildas Hardel, by our side, he was helping to bridge the gap between our worlds. Yet, things were getting lost in translation and it was fun to try and put the pieces together with these living legends. Passing messages back and forth, with Gildas in the middle, we were truly humbled to be in the Ama’s presence, amazed at what they’d accomplished in their long lives.
Even though my urchin eyes certainly were causing me some serious pain, nothing could quite beat meeting such special women who had a connection with our natural world unlike anything we’d ever seen. For so many of us, we are getting further away from our planet, not closer. These women seemed to have a bond with the blue planet that will never be broken or taken away.
You’d think a stinging pain wearing off would be a good thing. But for me, it was bittersweet. It meant we had come and gone from the Ama—possibly some of the last of their kind—as these traditions are not being passed down to enough of the next generation. Upon our departure, we hugged Kiku and Aiko goodbye, saying that we would try with all of our might to see one day again.
Taking away some of their lessons of what life is like out to sea, we were left wondering how we could form our own deep bonds with the ocean. I couldn’t help but think about how my diving journey would transform well into my old age, like the way the 90-year old Ama women described theirs. With every urchin eye rub, a new question came to mind:
What will diving look like for us 60 years from now? Will we be lucky enough to practice these skills for as long as the Ama? What will the state of the ocean look like by then? Only time will tell.
To be continued …
The rich text element allows you to create and format headings, paragraphs, blockquotes, images, and video all in one place instead of having to add and format them individually. Just double-click and easily create content.
A rich text element can be used with static or dynamic content. For static content, just drop it into any page and begin editing. For dynamic content, add a rich text field to any collection and then connect a rich text element to that field in the settings panel. Voila!
Headings, paragraphs, blockquotes, figures, images, and figure captions can all be styled after a class is added to the rich text element using the "When inside of" nested selector system.
