The Man Who Discovered America (December 1956 | Volume: 8, Issue: 1)

The Man Who Discovered America

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Authors: Hisakazu Kaneko

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December 1956 | Volume 8, Issue 1

In 1841, before Commodore Perry had opened up Japan, before any Japanese had set foot in America, a fisherman’s boy was transported by a chance of history to Massachusetts. This is his story, condensed from a new book by Hisakazu Kaneko, published by Houghton Mifflin Co. Manjiro, The Man Who Discovered America is a true account, so strange and charming that it reads like a fairy tale.

 

Manjiro was born in the tenth year of the Bunsei era (1827) in a lonely fishing village called Nakanohama, in the province of Tosa where the warm Black Current of the Pacific Ocean ceaselessly washes its craggy coast. His father Etsuke died when Manjiro was only nine years old and his widowed mother, Shio, with her lean hands had to feed her five ever-hungry children. So poor was she that she could not afford to send the children to a nearby Buddhist temple for a simple education. Manjiro had to work. When he was thirteen years old, he put to sea in a fishing boat and unhooked fish from the lines to get what little money he could earn and help his widowed mother eke out a scanty livelihood.

On the morning of the fifth of January, 1841, when he was fourteen years old, he took to the sea, bright and early, from Usaura with Denzo, aged 38, Jusuke, aged 25, and Goemon, aged 15, both brothers of Denzo, and Toraemon, aged 26, in an attempt to catch the sea bass that would come riding along in the tide of the New Year.

For seven days they had no luck. Then, suddenly, a strong monkey-and-cock wind began to blow, so they decided to make for land before they were overtaken by a storm. When the boat had traversed about ten miles of the intervening sea it ran into such a large shoal of mackerel and sea bream that the sea seemed to have taken on a dark purplish color. Denzo spurred the others into action and cast six bucketfuls of nets. In the meantime the sky grew dark and the wind blew full blast, threatening to overturn the boat at any moment. Terrified out of their wits, they rowed as hard as they could, but soon they became too exhausted to prevent the boat from being carried away by the wind and waves like a fallen leaf in a rapid stream.

When the storm ended they were drifting helpless in the open sea. Drenched with rain by day, nearly frozen by night, they drifted slowly southward. On the fifth day after the storm, they were cast ashore on an island inhabited only by the albatross.

Five months passed, during which they lived on albatross, seaweed, and shellfish. It was on June 27 that Manjiro happened to sight a tiny black dot far away on the horizon. “It’s a ship!” He danced with joy and his voice rang in the quiet morning of the lonely island.

The ship dropped