In an ever-shrinking diving world, with favourite locations being overrun and over-loved, finding that “next new destination” is a challenge. Well, look no further, as one location has been hiding in plain sight all along: Welcome to Japan! Scott Bennett has the story.
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As a travel destination, Japan needs no introduction, famed for its history, scenery, cuisine and fusion of traditional culture and high tech. As a diving destination, however, it does not immediately spring to mind. Certainly, many are aware of Okinawa’s reefs in the country’s far south, but what about a flourishing dive scene mere hours from Tokyo, boasting a blend of temperate, sub-tropical and even tropical species?
I first got an inkling of its wonders at the Japan Tourism booth at the DEMA Show prior to the COVID-19 pandemic. Marvelling at the undersea life on display, I thought to myself, “Why have I never heard of this before?” It turns out there was a good reason. Until recently, the Japanese dive scene catered to Japanese only, with dive shops not interested in foreign visitors. Since the pandemic, things have changed dramatically, with a big push to attract foreign divers.
Fast forward to DEMA 2024, and I was looking for something different. Right on cue, I ran into Michael Aw, who was promoting a dive trip to Japan. The trip would feature three different locations, only hours from Tokyo: Tateyama, for “the shark scramble”; Shimoda, the embarkation point for the hammerhead sharks at Mikomoto Island; and Osezaki, celebrated for its forests of soft corals and macro life. I attended a presentation on the trip that evening and was sold on the spot. The hardest part would be waiting until the departure the following August!
Getting there
Our group meeting point was at Tokyo’s Haneda Airport, and I arrived two days early to be on the safe side. It was a good decision in the end, as Air Canada decided to go on strike. I literally caught one of the last flights from Toronto before it started.
It proved to be an international group, with participants from Singapore, Malaysia, the United States and Canada. For the first time in ages, it was great to have some fellow Canadians along. The trip would prove to be unique in a number of ways. Instead of a liveaboard, we would be staying at three different resorts, travelling between each one on a chartered bus. The best part was that diving would not be restricted by flights. Essentially, we would check out of our hotel, go diving, rinse our gear and hop on the bus for our next destination.
In the trip notes, Michael recommended bringing our own gear. I ended up buying a BCD, regulator and fins. Otherwise, I would have had to rent everything for the entire trip. It was recommended to bring a 5mm suit or thicker. Then again, I managed Komodo and Alor in my 2mm a few years earlier, so I figured I could manage.
Chiba Prefecture
Boarding our bus at Haneda, we set out for Ito in Chiba Prefecture, only a 90-minute drive away. Our first stop was Tateyama, home of the “Shark Scramble”. One of Japan’s most unique dive locations, it is renowned for the banded houndsharks and red stingrays that congregate during a feeding session.
Our destination was a far cry from the megalopolis of Tokyo. Tateyama Resort Hotel, where we were staying, was situated along the coast, with open spaces and expansive beaches of black sand. I had been to Japan in the ‘90s, but wide-open spaces were something I had never experienced in the country.
Thanks to jet lag, I awoke early the next morning and decided to get some aerial shots with my drone. Apart from myself and a lone fisherman, the landscape was empty, the stillness punctuated by crashing surf on the misty shoreline. After a sumptuous breakfast of sashimi, soba noodles and gyoza (dumplings), it was time for our 8:00 a.m. pickup.
After a short drive, we arrived at Ito Diving Service Bommie, our diving base for the next three days. Here we met our guide AJ, an American expat and former Marine, who gave us a pre-dive briefing.
How it came to be
The site has a fascinating history. For years, local fishermen had been catching banded houndsharks in their nets. Not a species for consumption, the fishermen did not wish to kill the sharks but wanted them out of their nets, as they not only inflicted damage but also stole their catch.
Then, the managing director of the local fisheries cooperative conceived a strategy. He contacted local dive operator Kan Shiota at Bommie, suggesting he feed the sharks to lure them away from their nets. The plan went into operation and has worked perfectly ever since. Any sharks that are caught are taken to the site and released. This happened during our visit, when a small guitar shark was released during one of our dives.
Self-service
Those expecting liveaboard pampering are in for a rude awakening. Japan has always been a do-it-yourself destination, with guests expected to assemble their own gear. The dive staff provides and fills the tanks, but it is up to the diver to change them between dives. I was a bit rusty at first, but caught on in no time. I actually ended up quite enjoying it.
Diving shark scrambles
From the nearby port, the site was a 10-minute boat ride away. The protected area is quite large and features two buoy sites. The eastern site (Shark City) has a maximum depth of 21m and is reached via a mooring line. However, there are challenges, as surface currents can be mild to ripping. A section of the mooring line is pulled onto the dive platform, where each diver is required to grasp it while doing their giant stride. If strong, the current can easily carry a diver away in no time. Photographers should ensure their camera is clipped to their BCD, as one hand is required to pull themselves along to the point where the line descends. Once on the bottom, conditions calm down, at least as far as the current goes. The undersea life was a different matter.
In many places worldwide, just seeing a shark is a rarity, or downright nonexistent, but not so here. On average, there can be over 200 of them present, along with a multitude of species, including Japanese red stingrays, longtooth groupers and Asian sheepshead wrasse. The latter is related to the Napoleon wrasse but looks like a cartoon version of it, with its bulbous forehead reminiscent of an alien from the Twilight Zone.
Without a doubt, this was one of the most chaotic (yet fun) scenes I had ever experienced. The biggest challenge was making photographic sense of the chaos. Visibility was limited, the water was green, and the action was relentless, with sharks bumping into you nonstop. At one point, I was completely engulfed. All I could discern was a writhing mass of grey bodies.
Whenever I recount this incident, I get asked the same question, “Weren’t you scared?” Of banded houndsharks? Please. They are about as intimidating as a friend’s Pomeranian. In actuality, the entire situation was so crazy that I could not stop laughing!
In addition to the sharks, there were plenty of other species about. The majority were new to me, with many congregating amongst the rocks or keeping to the periphery. Endemic kidako moray eels peered from crevices, while sandy areas revealed a trio of rare angel sharks. Rocky ledges abounded with blacktip groupers and marbled rockfish, while bearded grunt, largescale blackfish, spangled emperorfish and yellowtail amberjack added to the melee above.
Apart from the groupers, nothing here was remotely skittish. On one occasion, a large red stingray headed right towards me. Rather than veer around, it swam straight up my torso and right across my face! Over three days, we did a total of six dives here. Each was glorious mayhem, with the tornado of sharks constantly bumping divers and each other. I could have easily spent a week at this one site.
On to Shizuoka Prefecture
After our final dive, we threw our wet gear into large garbage bags and loaded them on the bus. Better yet, no disassembly of housed cameras before travel! From here, we headed to the small city of Shimoda, situated in Shizuoka Prefecture on the Izu Peninsula. Backtracking our way to Tokyo, we skirted Yokohama Bay before heading down the peninsula’s rugged coastline to our destination. The latter part was especially scenic, the road rising and falling with the dramatic twists and turns. Unfortunately, my camera was packed away at the rear of the bus. Just as well, as I would have wanted to stop every few minutes.
Arriving just before dinner, we settled in at the scenically positioned Ocean View Hiromi Spa Hotel in Suzaki, a pleasant, small town on the peninsula outside of Shimoda. Here was yet another new side of Japan: a traditional community, without a tourist in sight. Even after a few days, I was loving this trip!
Mikomoto Island
The next morning, a twenty-minute drive brought us to Mikomoto Divers. Mikomoto Island has gained renown for its hammerheads, and the centre runs precisely timed trips out to the island. Due to the large number of divers, dive times are limited to 30 minutes to maintain the tight boat schedules. After the obligatory (digital) paperwork, we had a briefing by our Filipino guide, Bernard. Admittedly, I was a bit apprehensive, as I had read several accounts of the ferocious currents that can sweep the island.
A short walk to the protected harbour brought us to our boat. After a 30-minute trip to the island, it was time to get ready. Entry was via a dive platform at the stern that could be raised and lowered to the waterline. As there were several other groups on board, we formed three separate queues. The boat could not anchor, so the three at the front did a giant stride at the divemaster’s signal, followed by each successive trio.
I am always nervous about doing a giant stride with a camera, but, holding it above my head, I took the plunge. Happily, all was good!
The water temperature was 24°C, which felt like bath water after Tateyama’s chill. The undersea terrain was quite dramatic, with the island’s rugged slopes plunging to the depths. I was especially impressed by the number of soft corals present. Although small, they were very abundant, shrouding the walls with dazzling hues of purple, red, orange and yellow. There was an abundance of reef fish, too, with boxfish, surgeonfish and butterflyfish, along with several other species new to me, including spottedtail morwong and striped boarfish.
Unfortunately, being on the lookout for hammerheads, we could not linger. By dive’s end, we did not spot any, but I was elated to find a dragon moray eel, surely one of the most beautiful of all eel species. Dramatically patterned with spots and streaks, its dramatic appearance is embellished by the nostril tubes on its pointed snout that resemble horns. This was the one species I had most wanted to see, and I found it all by myself!
Dining
For dinner, we went into town to a yakiniku restaurant, where guests cook bite-sized pieces of meat and vegetables at the table over a circular charcoal grill. The restaurant should have been called “Vegetarians Beware!” It was a meat fest from the get-go, from wagyu sushi to a variety of beef cuts, including offal.
One of the highlights was kim-cheese, an incredible mixture of kimchi, cheese and bacon. Where has this been all my life? Just don’t tell my cardiologist…
Searching for hammerheads
After a disappointing start, we hoped for better luck on day two. The second dive proved more successful, with the sighting of a few hammerheads, albeit briefly. Although we did not see any after that, the sharks were definitely present.
On our final day, the dive centre posted images shot during the 6:00 a.m. early morning dive, which I was not on. The images showed a massive wall of sharks in relatively shallow water. Disappointing, yes, but, as we all know, wildlife is never guaranteed. However, that disappointment would be quickly eradicated at our third and final dive location of the trip: Cape Ose.
Cape Ose
Situated at the top end of the Izu Peninsula, Cape Ose, also known as Osezaki, has been a preeminent Japanese dive destination for years and is home to a large number of dive resorts. Approaching Ose, my anticipation was soaring, fuelled by Michael’s accounts of its thriving marine life and spectacular underwater scenery. Despite being only a few hours from Tokyo, Ose is one serious biodiversity hotspot. From soft corals to critters, temperate, subtropical and tropical species merge, creating an array of species that is truly unique.
Our home for the next three days was the Nature Inn Osekan, situated right on the beach. Better yet, the resort had its own dive centre. Arriving near sunset, we were treated to a glimpse of Mt. Fuji peering above the clouds. Being summer, the summit was devoid of snow, hardly a surprise with the hot and humid temperatures we had experienced all week.
I arose early, hoping for a better view of Mt. Fuji. After an hour of teasing, the clouds finally broke, revealing Japan’s loftiest peak in its full glory. After breakfast, we met dive guide Mikiya Wakamatsu (Miki for short), who gave us a detailed briefing about the conditions and the marine life we might encounter.
Unlike the boat dives of the first two locations, Osezaki would be all shore diving. After assembling our gear, the dive guides would load everything on large carts, which were then pushed to the various entry points. Also joining us was Kenji Ichimura, an accomplished photographer and founder and chairman of NPO Diving Experience, which promotes Japan to overseas divers. He was also responsible for organising our trip, and I was already suspecting he saved the best for last!
Sentan
Our first dive would be at Sentan, located near the end of the peninsula. Translated as “tip of the cape”, Sentan is located adjacent to the Ose Shrine, founded in AD 684. Long known to house the guardian deity of the sea, it is a popular attraction for non-divers. Being near the temple, Sentan is only accessible to divers on weekends and public holidays, so our arrival was timed perfectly. To reach the dive entry point, divers must pay a fee of JP¥100 per person at the temple entry gate, which Miki took care of.
After gearing up in the water, we gradually descended a slope of algae-encrusted boulders, with no preparation for the wonders that lay ahead. As conditions remained unsettled, the water remained green, with limited visibility. The water was a cool 18°C but manageable in my 2mm suit. En route, boldly patterned stripey congregated around a small soft coral, providing a perfect photo op—for wide-angle, that is. I was set up for macro, thinking we were starting with a muck site. I was already kicking myself.
Arriving at 30m, any discomfort from the cold was promptly forgotten. Before us was the most extraordinary forest of soft corals I had ever seen. To call it breathtaking was an understatement. It was not only the corals’ colours that impressed. It was their sheer size. Some were immense, with stems the size of tree trunks.
In every direction, bursts of life and colour danced in my spotting lights. Anthias proliferated, with several different species present. Sea goldies and red-belted anthias were common, but the Holy Grail was the endemic sakura, or cherry anthia, named for its spots resembling Japan’s infamous blossoms. It was sensory and photographic overload, and I did not know where to look first!
A second chance
After lunch, I was thrilled to learn we would return to Sentan, so I promptly switched to a wide-angle lens. With limited bottom time, I had to work fast. Visibility was still limited, but the green water added a striking contrast to the warm hues of the coral. After shooting wide vistas, I moved in close to fill the frame with colourful details. There were even lionfish. I had to keep reminding myself I was not somewhere in the tropical Pacific.
On the forest’s periphery were a number of large fan corals, including one dazzling purple specimen. Alas, deco loomed, and we reluctantly ascended to shallower water. Along with the myriads of species new to me were familiar ones, including anthias, parrotfish, butterflyfish, rabbitfish and even anemonefish on their host anemones. Seriously, anemonefish near Tokyo? Who knew?
Wan-nai
Our final dive of the day was Wan-nai, a macro location situated near the resort. A blackfoot firefish, marbled rockfish, an Elysia sp. nudibranch, blacktip groupers, a sponge crab, yellow cup corals and tubeworms all competed for my camera’s attention. Ose turned out to be an “eel central”, with several species encountered on every dive. Along with numerous dragon morays (possibly my favourite new critter), there were also white-eyed and kidapo morays, all of which were content to pose for photos.
Back at the resort, Kenji said the winter months are even more spectacular, with clear visibility and an abundance of nudibranchs. In addition, deep water creatures arrive from the 2000m depths of Sagami Bay, allowing divers to see such rarities as monkfish and oarfish, which are impossible to see under normal circumstances.
Experimenting with underwater photography
The ensuing two days followed a similar pattern, with three dives per day alternating between wide-angle and macro sites. Back at Sentan, I experimented with different lighting and camera settings, hoping to better capture the colours and intricate details. Although the sakura anthias remained elusive, I captured their equally colourful relatives, such as bicolour and red-belted anthias. I then concentrated on close-up wide-angle, filling the frame with the immense shapes and patterns of the corals. My only regret was not going a bit deeper. I later saw some of Michael’s photos taken at 35m, and it looked even more spectacular!
Ose Shrine
One morning, before breakfast, I ventured over to the Ose Shrine. Passing beneath a traditional torii gate, I ascended the steps to the hilltop shrine. I have always been captivated by Japanese architecture, and this temple was no exception. Decorated with intricate carvings, the wooden structure was simple yet elegant. Surrounded by ancient cypress trees, the entire scene exuded tranquillity.
Venturing further, I discovered a large pond filled with carp. Sensing my presence, the surface was broken by dozens of gaping mouths looking for a handout, as a white egret took flight at the disturbance.
Soto-umi
On our final day, conditions had calmed, permitting a dive at Soto-umi. Meaning “outside ocean”, the site is located on the opposite side of the peninsula facing Sagami Bay. Our entry point was a concrete ramp descending to the water. Unfortunately, it was quite slippery near the waterline, necessitating a backside slide sitting on my fins, quite possibly the most undignified shore entry I have ever done.
Hitting the water, my eyes bulged, as the temperature was 16°C! As thick-skinned as I claim to be, even I found it uncomfortable. But I was not about to miss a dive, so I decided to grin and bear it. The visibility was much clearer, with the underwater terrain composed of large rocks descending to the sandy bottom between 20 and 30m. There was an abundance of colourful corals, including fan and whip corals. A large sheepshead wrasse was known to reside here, but we did not spot it.
Despite the chill, I enjoyed photographing the corals, the interplay of light and shadow creating striking visual contrasts. After 45 minutes, however, the cold had taken its toll, and I was ready to pack it in. Back on shore, everyone commented that they were freezing throughout the dive. And they did it in 5mm suits; I had a 2mm!
Critter hunt
With everyone else calling it a day, a dive buddy and fellow photographer and I were the last two standing. For our final two dives at Wan-nai, we had a very specific mission to find two special critters. The first was the Japanese pygmy seahorse, endemic to Japan. First, though, we headed down to around 25m to find its larger relative: a yellow thorny seahorse. Practically glowing in our torch beams, it possessed the usual traits of its kin, turning away for photos. However, perseverance paid off, and we both managed to get some photos of it in profile.
We then ascended to a large boulder to find our main quarry. Anticipation was high, our eyes scanning every crevice and outcrop in search of the elusive species. With my air getting low, it was becoming a race against time, the search a test of patience and teamwork. Before long, a muffled yelp from our guide indicated success, with the slightest of movements betraying its position. We took turns photographing, thrilled to have finally encountered it. Mission accomplished!
Our second critter was the fringed blenny, named for its unique “hairstyle”. Unlike the seahorse, our guide knew exactly where it was. Residing on a large boulder at around 12m, its head poked from a crevice, regarding us with curious eyes. Attaching my 10X close-up diopter, I was thrilled to obtain frame-filling images before the shy fish darted back into hiding. And the final icing on the cake? An encounter with a very compliant dragon moray, rounding out our critter hunt and ending the trip on the highest of notes.
Tokyo
Although I was sad the diving portion had ended, my trip was far from over. One can hardly visit Japan without spending time in its dynamic capital of Tokyo, and I was fortunate to spend a few days there before and after diving. The world’s largest city has a population of 38 million—almost equivalent to the entire population of my home country of Canada! With innumerable attractions and limited time, the biggest dilemma was deciding what to do. In the end, I focused on a few locations and took my time.
Meiji Jingu Shrine. Surrounded by forest, the early morning tranquillity of the Meiji Jingu Shrine was a dramatic contrast from the wild excesses of nearby Takeshita Street, where wild pop culture fashion mingles with decadent sweet shops and animal cafés featuring everything from dogs and cats to miniature pigs, otters and even capybaras! A few station stops away, the 3D cat billboard looming over Shinjuku Station was downright uncanny, competing with the nearby Godzilla head perched on the Hotel Gracery terrace, 50 metres above street level.
Shibuya Scramble. However, my favourite stop was the infamous “Shibuya Scramble”, regarded as the world’s busiest pedestrian crossing, where up to 3,000 people can cross during a single green light cycle. I witnessed the spectacle from multiple spots, my favourite being the eighth-floor outdoor terrace at Magnet by Shibuya 109. For JP¥1800, you get a beer and can stay as long as you like to see and photograph the scene below. I went twice, the second time just before dusk, to see the city lights and billboards come alive. Amazing!
Senso-ji. On my final afternoon, I visited Senso-ji, Tokyo’s oldest established Buddhist temple, located in Asakusa. A perpetual hive of activity, the complex features impressive gates, with a shop-lined pedestrian street leading to the main hall and a five-story pagoda. Over 30 million people visit annually (I think a large portion were there the day I visited), with many women stunningly attired in traditional kimonos, adding to the already photogenic scene.
Even though the city is enormous, getting around was unexpectedly simple. Public transit proved indispensable, convenient and frequent, with schedules so dependable that one can set one’s watch by them. I highly recommend a photography website called The Wandering Lens, which provides invaluable tips on locations and how to get to them.
Final thoughts
In the end, diving in Japan was a revelation. From sharks to critters and soft coral forests, I was entranced by Japan’s underwater treasures. Travelling to each location by bus made the experience truly unique, kind of like a land-based liveaboard. Although conditions were not always ideal, the range of species and environments whetted my appetite for more. With so much more to explore, both under and over the water, I will definitely be back—maybe with a 5mm suit next time, though. ■
Sources: Fishbase, Marinespecies.org, Umiushi.info, Wikipedia
