A boat is just a boat, unless you’ve named it. Then it’s a friend.
And if that friend has kept you safe and warm on the open sea,
and hauled home your heavy catch, that friend becomes family.
He named her Soyokaze, gentle wind in Japanese, and she was the boat of his dreams, handmade by a master boatbuilder in Steveston. Shigekazu needed years to save up the money to buy her.
The cod fishing was good around Quathiaski Cove, if you could find them. Shigekazu always could. “It takes a lucky boat, like Soyokaze,” he joked with the other fishermen.
They called him Smiley, but one day he stopped smiling. Who can smile when his world gets turned upside down? “The government is taking all the Japanese boats and sticking us in camps. They think we’ll help Japan attack the coast.”
“We better do what they say,” warned his wife, “or there could be trouble.”
Following government orders, Shigekazu sailed south to hand over Soyokaze.
When he reached the Fraser River, hundreds of Japanese fishing boats were already there, tied together, row after row, along the water’s edge.
Shigekazu patted his boat’s trim and whispered, “Sayonora, Soyokaze. I’ll be back, someday.” He dried his eyes, and walked slowly away.
At home, he helped his wife pack for the internment camp. “Remember the weight limits,” he reminded her.
“But we’re leaving so much behind,” she sighed.
“It will all be here when we come back,” Shigekazu assured her.
They traveled to Vancouver where they, and many others, were loaded onto trains and taken away, like prisoners.
When they arrived at the camp, rows of lonely shacks stared back at them. “How long must we live here?” his children asked.
“When the war is over, the government will let us go home,” he promised.
Shigekazu kept busy feeding their wood stove, hauling water, tending the chickens, and working the land, but his heart was in Quathiaski Cove.
He missed the salty air and the lapping waves. He missed the other fishermen and the calling seagulls, but most of all, he missed Soyokaze.
One day, things went from bad to worse. The government was selling everything the families left behind: their homes, their cars, and their boats. Shigekazu boiled over. “I’m a fisherman, not a farmer!” he shouted. His fist hit the table as his wife sobbed quietly.
Months turned into years. Shigekazu often wondered about Soyokaze. Where was she? Who bought her? Would he see her again?
When the war finally ended people everywhere celebrated, but for those in the camp, there was no joy. The government would not let them go home. They could only wait, and hope, and press on.
Freedom came four years later. There was nothing to go home to, but Shigekazu refused to give up. “I’ll find Soyokaze,” he told his wife. “We’ll start over in Quathiaski Cove.”
He rented a house for his family, and began searching for his boat, but his efforts turned up nothing. Nobody knew what happened to Soyokaze.
With a different boat, he went back to fishing, but Shigekazu was always on the lookout, scanning the coves and bays, the open waters and docks. Sometimes he stopped suddenly and stared, but hope always gave way to disappointment.
The other fishermen kept watching too, and eight years later, one of them shared incredible news. “I found her near Victoria! Her name was changed, but it’s Soyokaze!” Shigekazu couldn’t believe his ears.
He contacted the owner and spoke directly, “Ma’am, I’d like to buy your boat.”
“Well,” the woman paused. “If the original owner comes looking for it, I’d let him buy it, but only him.”
Shigekazu smiled. “That day has arrived. I’m the original owner.”
For the second time, Shigekazu bought the boat of his dreams and sailed her home to Quathiaski Cove. “Together again,” he laughed. “You truly are a lucky boat, Soyokaze.”
Shigekazu and Soyokaze grew old together, and when their fishing days were over Shigekazu shared something from the heart. “Time is running out for me,” he told his sons, “but Soyokaze can be saved. She has a story to tell. Maybe the museum will take her.”
Shigekazu‘s dream reached the museum directors. They agreed Soyokaze would make a wonderful storyteller and wanted her to join their collection.
The news filled Shigekazu’s eyes with tears. “Still a lucky boat,” he smiled.
Soyokaze was carefully lifted out of the water,
and after two years of repairs
and plenty of paint,
she was ready for display. Sadly, Shigekazu wasn’t there to see his wish come true, but his family watched as Soyokaze took her place outside the museum.
Many visitors come to hear her story. Shigekazu's grandchildren know it well. They come every year.
To them she is family. They make sure she’s loved and well taken care of, and that makes Soyokaze a lucky boat, indeed.
© 2025 Brent Eastwood
