This section of the Japan Sea coast had escaped our attention and focus for far too long. In hindsight, it should have been on our radar much earlier. We knew that National Highway 231 was a mess of tunnels (we’d previously cycled through all of them), and we’d even, on several occasions, stopped to admire the view from one of the many bridges along the coast, set hundreds of meters above the coast proper.
This all added up to some great potential for sea kayaking along a roadless, rugged, quiet coast. Once we finally did paddle it, we were not disappointed.
It’s a wonder this section of coast isn’t in any of the Japanese sea kayaking guidebooks. It’s also not represented online. Perhaps it’s because the coast is so exposed here. The sea itself isn’t as crystal-clear as the Shakotan Peninsula further south. But the coastal features are, in my view, only outmatched by the Shiretoko Peninsula way out east in Hokkaido. This Mashike coast really is a gem in Hokkaido’s sea kayaking crown.
Martin joined us on this overnight paddle, so that meant we had two cars available for the long shuttle. We arrived early at the put-in, but didn’t get away until late morning.
Just before Martin and Haidee set off to do the one-hour return shuttle, we gobbled down some fresh Hokkaido water melon. The day was shaping up to be a hot one, so the cool, sweet melon was just what we needed.
Just before lunch, after packing and re-packing the kayaks, we were on the water. It was dead calm. A perfect Japan Sea summer paddle.
For the first couple of kilometres, we were entertained by a rare view of the seaward side of the massive steel fence running alongside National Highway 231. In winter, this part of the coast gets hammered by the Siberian monsoon – a three-month-long brutal onslaught of snow and wind. The fence is there to reduce the snow-clearing burden on this very exposed coastal road. Hitherto, on our drives along this coast, we’d only seen the landward side of the fence.
Soon, the highway retreated into the confines of the many tunnels along this otherwise impenetrable coastline. Here and there, old decaying remnants of previous tunnels dotted coves and inlets.
Soon enough, however, even these gave way to cliffs dropping straight into the sea. It was here that the coast started feeling a little bit like a small-scale Shiretoko Peninsula.
Caves started dotting the coastline.
As did waterfalls and cascades.
About two-thirds along our route for the day we passed the small settlement of Iwao, with its Iwao Onsen standing clear on the hillside. In hindsight, we could have landed there and camped in the fishing port for the night. But the forecast for the following day was not perfect, so we wanted to get as much distance under our belts as possible today, so we carried on.
We didn’t have any good intel on where to camp along this section of coast. Google Satellite had suggested to me one point of promise, but once we arrived there, we only found a steep bouldery beach. Not ideal for camping.
“Perhaps we can get up onto that old road,” Timbah suggested, pointing at a short section of old decaying road. “At least it would be flat.”
It seemed like a good idea, but there didn’t seem to be any good way to get up onto the road. Large concrete walls blocked our way.
In the end, we opted for a tiny flat-ish patch of sand at the mouth of a creek. We set up camp, hoping the forecast rain wouldn’t flood us out.
It started to rain overnight, and by morning, it was a steady, wetting, light rain.
There was no wind though. The sea was flat. As far as paddling in the rain goes, this was going to be perfect.
We were treated early on with some beautiful waterfalls and caves. One of the caves only wide enough for one kayak to get through at the entrance, later widening out into a cathedral-like chamber.
The waterfalls, caves, and coves just didn’t stop. It was like being a kid in a candy store.
We didn’t have far to go on this last 10km or so of the route, and the last 2km or so was relatively non-descript paddling along a now built-up, populated shoreline.
“Let’s do some sprint races,” suggested Timbah.
I certainly welcomed the distraction.
Timbah won.
All this speed got us to the mouth of Shokanbetsu River by about 10am in the morning. It was a real treat to be able to paddle up into the river mouth for a fresh water finish.
We got a few curious looks from campers who had stayed overnight at the adjacent campground. It was still early in the morning, so no doubt we were a strange sight, arriving from nowhere.
This was the first time the four of us had paddled this section of coast, and we were thoroughly impressed. Given a good sea-state forecast, it’s some of the best paddling in Hokkaido. Next time, we might just camp at Iwao, replete with a mid-paddle onsen.
