All language subtitles for The Story of Yanagawas Canals 1987 720p_track3_[eng]

A Nibariki Film

Suimonbashi: Floodgate Bridge

In the days
when Japan was poor

each village had
its small rivers.

They murmured between
their banks

blooming with violets
and lotus flowers.

Children fished for carp
and chased summer fireflies.

In the days
when Japan was poor

each town had its canals.

The water wasn't always clean.

But pausing for a moment

on a bank or a bridge

helped ease life's burdens.

References to water

are frequent in Japanese
sayings about social interaction.

“Draw water into your
own paddy.” (Be selfish.)

“Raise the sluice gate” and
unleash a flood of tears.

In the days
when Japan was poor

water was always
close at hand.

The Story of Yanagawa Waterways

The Chikugo is Kyushu's
largest river.

On its left bank is the vast
South Chikugo plain.

Yanagawa, Fukuoka lies on
the plain at the river mouth.

It's a small city of 46,000.

Its southwest part

lies on reclaimed land.

These lines of houses show
where old sea walls once stood,

visible evidence of 500 years
of land reclamation.

A unique web of waterways
threads through the city's north.

This extensive, meandering
network of canals

occupies over 20% of
the city's surface area.

The Okinohata River
runs through town.

The central area was shaped by
old boundaries and the waterways.

It was built in early Edo times.

It prospered as the castle town

of the ruling Tachibana clan.

The town has
three main districts:

Mercantile Yanagawa,
Shirouchi “Castle” and Okinohata port.

Canals run in every direction.

The city center is only
four square kilometers.

But it has 60 km of waterways.

The whole 36 sq. km city has

470 km of waterways.

This map shows the late-18th
century castle town.

The town at that time.

And this is what
it looks like now.

Many areas have been filled in
since the Meiji era.

But the sprawling network of
waterways is still striking.

Why are there so many canals?

Is this area
so blessed with water?

Why were they built?

What were they used for?

And what is their relationship
to Yanagawa's people today?

Part 1: Channels of Life

A Sketch of the Waterways

It fell in! Uh-oh!

There are few barriers between
Yanagawa people and their water.

People understand the water
and respect its risks.

This school backs up to a canal.

Older kids teach first-graders
how to row.

Morning in Yanagawa.

The water is at its cleanest
from fresh inflows overnight.

The canal's carp are spawning.

It's late March,
when the water warms.

A magpie.

Better known here as
Koge crows.

In Japan, they live
only in this region.

The route used by tour boats is
cleaned every morning by local staff.

This cleaning boat handles
the other canals.

It's from the city's
waterway environment bureau.

This canal runs behind houses.

It's difficult to see from the street.

Household waste is
a real problem.

Building sewers costs
time and money,

so people are requested to
treat their own waste

before returning it to the canal.

Tenacious crayfish thrive.

Mullet live in the broader channels.

Grassfish eat duckweed.

Prussian carp.

The season, weather, temperature
and water level

all can affect water quality.

It can suddenly change from
clear to murky.

After a long journey, the canal
network reaches the river mouth.

With the touch of an oar
the water turns cloudy.

The water must accept
the city's sewage.

Even at its clearest,
this water is not beautiful.

The canals of Yanagawa

may be somewhat polluted,

but they generously take in
the clean and dirty.

They harbor many living things.

They are a bountiful source of
comfort and pleasure.

Part 2:
Using the Water, Boats and Moats

Features and Uses of
the Canal Network

The Futatsugawa Dam,
4 km up the Okinohata River.

The Futatsugawa Dam's intake gate,
from downstream.

Water flows through it
to the Yanagawa canals.

There wasn't always a gate here.

Once boats could freely
carry cargo to upstream towns.

On the left, the Okinohata;
on the right, the Futatsugawa.

You can see where
the dam takes in water.

The Futatsugawa is man-made,
dug to divert water to Yanagawa.

Modifications have narrowed it.

In 1960, a dam was built
upstream on the Yabe River.

It reduced the water
reaching Yanagawa.

But the Futatsugawa remains the sole
supply for Yanagawa's canals.

When it reaches Yanagawa,

the Futatsugawa flows through
three intakes

into large north-south canals.

The Jobori main intake gate.

Except on rare occasions

it always remains
open to boat traffic.

Most of Yanagawa's canals

don't run alongside streets.

They run behind the houses.

Now roads running along
the banks are common.

But not in the old days.

Back then, the canals
themselves were roads.

Nothing could beat boats for
transporting bulky cargo.

Flat-bottom boats could
traverse narrow canals.

An old merchant dock survives
in the heart of town.

There's another reason why
the canals run behind the houses.

They also served as
the city's water supply.

Years ago the water
flowed faster.

We used it for drinking.

In the morning we'd draw water.

We'd put sand and other things
in earthenware urns.

Then we'd filter the water
in the urn, and drink it.

And in those days we washed

rice and other things
in the canal.

We brushed our teeth in it.

We washed our faces in it
in the morning.

All using canal water.

We scooped up water
with our palms.

The water was that clean.

We drew water at those steps

early every morning.

That's where we got it.

The water may be dirty now,

but it's still something
that must be taken care of.

The city had no
high-quality groundwater.

In 1935, a water supply began.

Until then the canals provided
all the water, even for drinking.

Back then, drawing water
was an everyday task.

Very different from
just turning on the tap.

Hard work, wasn't it?

Yes, it was!

You needed a lot of strength.

That's why in our house

the boys had to do it.

Early in the morning,
at 5 o'clock.

That's when the water
was cleanest.

They got woken up

and had to fetch it.

They drew 15 buckets of water
into this big urn.

Once in a while I helped them.

But I'm not strong.

I could only draw five or six.

After ten buckets my arms ached.

My feet and clothes
got soaking wet.

It was all right in summer but
in winter the north wind blew.

It was so cold,
my hands went numb.

Drawing water was
the worst morning chore.

Afterward the
kids went back inside.

They went back to bed.

And they slept until
it was time for school.

Sitting a moment
A girl's shadow quivers

The water-drawing place

It wasn't just in Yanagawa where
water was drawn this way.

Many towns and villages
on the plain

drank from rivers, not wells.

An Edo-era public
water-drawing place.

Gossip flourishes, just
as it would at a well.

Ready!

Yanagawa needs no fire hydrants.

Canals supply all
the water for firefighting.

Water circles Yanagawa Castle
Three times, seven times

And lotus flowers bloom

So wrote the Yanagawa-born poet
Hakushu Kitahara.

Canals wind
round and round the castle

forming a broad moat.

This land is flat
and lacking in stones.

So stone walls are few.

The castle and Shirouchi,
where samurai resided,

had thick ear then banks to
protect against floods and attacks.

Atop the embankments

thick groves of camphor,
nettle and sumac remain.

When the water passes
beside a house

it takes on the look
of a garden pond.

The garden of this house is
right across the waterway.

They cross the waterway
by boat for gardening.

In this garden the canal
acts just like a pond.

Here a pond's water is drawn
from the canal.

The Tojima garden is an
Important Cultural Asset.

It follows the same design.

This minor canal running
through the town has no name.

Little Kadogawa canal has
abutted the roadway for ages.

From above,
the canals look narrow.

Yet their banks offer the city
important green spaces.

Many Yanagawa residents
don't even know about

canals running right
behind stores where they shop.

These hidden canals are used as
shared backyards.

A privilege exclusive to those
living on their banks.

But step aboard a boat

and it's a whole
new experience.

You can float gently along,
seeing the town's private side.

Here the bank has become
a promenade.

Once a public water source
and transport artery,

a canal may now be
part of a private back garden.

People have been rediscovering
Yanagawa's canals

thanks to flat-bottom tourist
boats and canal-side paths.

The waterfront is now a public
space for residents and visitors.

Part 3: “3 years to take Yanagawa,
3 months to take Higo”

The Structure of
Waterway Networks

The castle of the
Tachibana clan once stood here.

But it's now gone.

The five-story keep was burned
down in the Meiji era.

The castle walls were torn down.

The moat, filled for
rice paddies.

Its stones were used to build
dikes for land reclamation.

The Meiji Restoration turned a samurai
town into a rice-growing village.

As in other feudal domains

former samurai became landlords
and leased out their property.

Fortunately the canals proved
useful for irrigation.

People built their own bridges
to connect to the castle town.

This was a “one-penny”
toll bridge.

The “Danpira” toll bridge.

The name fuses those of its
two builders, Dan and Hirata.

Let's look at canal crossings.

At bridges,
streets narrow the channel sharply.

It's a V-shape,
narrowest at the bottom.

When the canals themselves were wider,
the squeeze was greater.

When a waterway
narrows suddenly

it acts like a dam,
slowing the current's flow.

The current is gentle
and easy to bridge.

So why are even new bridges
built this way?

All the water for the vast canal
network is from the Futatsugawa.

The land is totally flat.

But water does flow, finding its
way along the slightest inclines.

How are the canals kept full?

How is the water made to flow
throughout the network?

How is the water level
maintained?

That's where these
bridges come in.

When heavy rains raise
the water level

the V-shaped dams adjust
the flow naturally,

so the upstream side won't flood.

These projecting V-dams
are called “motase” (holding dams)

Yanagawa's Clean River Project states:

The dams fulfill
many functions that

the river no longer can.

They revive the current where
it would otherwise stagnate.

They are essential to
revitalizing the waters.

The dams perform crucial tasks.

Thanks to them
the waterways have survived.

The weakened current flows

and eddies form more vigorously.

The eddies oxygenate the water.

The invigorated flow
purifies the water.

The Jobori intake
during Edo times.

The swirling currents around
the Futatsugawa sluice

evoke an era when
the river flowed abundantly.

The water flowing
through Yanagawa

also supplies downstream villages

with precious water for
irrigation and daily use.

To ensure the downstream
water supply

part of a gate may be cut away
to allow a certain flow.

This gate is 1/4 cut away.

And rules state that this gate
must be raised to the first hole.

This sluice gate's pool provides
water to farms downstream

and stabilizes
the canal's water level.

Originally boards
were inserted here.

Only water that overflowed them
could reach the pool.

Water flows downstream
through another sluice.

Here's the same system.

Having performed many tasks,

canal water passes Okinohata's docks.

As the tide ebbs

the canal waters drain
into the man-made outer harbor.

Near the harbor are two drainage
sluices called “nicho-ibi”.

The one nicknamed “onna-ibi”' is
usually in operation.

It maintains the water level

because only overflow drains
through its funnel.

An overall view of
Yanagawa's canal network.

Aside from the outlets and
supplementary inlets

no gates bar boat traffic.

Originally bridges had
high clearances

so boats could pass under.

To make water flow from one channel
into a web of canals on flat land,

artificial torrents
and pools were made.

Volume and flow were
controlled automatically.

So not a drop of water
was wasted.

No wonder Yanagawa people call their
canals a precise machine.

There's an old saying
in Yanagawa:

3 years to take Yanagawa, 3 months
to take Higo, no time at all for Hizen.

That's how long it would take
to breach their defenses.

In an emergency, two of the three
intakes could be closed,

flooding the town's fortified east side.

And with the sea and a river
on the north, south and west,

the castle became an island
fortress that repelled attackers.

This “hidden inlet” would
take in water secretly.

Though there's just one inlet,
the V-dams and overflow gates

guide life-giving water
into the canal network.

They also support
farm villages downstream.

The branches of trees planted
on the banks are used for fuel.

By the following year,
the branches regrow.

It's not clear exactly
how the defenses worked

but they seem ideal
for a riverside castle.

The “Hakushu Eve” floating
parade is held on November 1st.

People from across Japan join
locals honoring the Yanagawa poet

Hakushu Kitahara.

Part 4:
Regulations on River Drinking Water

When the Water was Pure

Flit, flitter firefly
Boating home from the theater

On Yanagawa's canals

An old lantern with
the family crest

Lulling them gently to sleep

Flit, flitter firefly

Flit, flitter firefly

Hakushu's poetry tells us that
the canals were pure enough

even for fireflies and delicate fish.

His family raised a type of
fish that thrives

only in clean water.

Hakushu's family home
was outside the moat

on a dead-end canal.
The family made sake.

That, too, speaks
of the water's purity.

Still, making sake
sometimes required getting

large barrels of water
from upstream.

This soda-pop factory is
Kyushu's second-oldest.

A treasure: the oldest English
soda-pop bottles.

At bridge's edge, warehouses
Lit by the setting sun

On the canals
Water hyacinths bloom

Hakushu's poem made these
canal warehouses famous.

Brewers of soy sauce, miso
and sake needed pure water.

So did bathhouses. Disposing of
waste water was a problem.

A large filter pond was set up.
Fouling the canals was forbidden.

In 1896, a prefectural ordinance
was established.

Regulations on Drinking Water.

Article 10

Dumping any material
or waste water

into a river is prohibited.

Home waste water was never
dumped into canals.

It was poured into a hole dug
in the backyard.

Diapers are still
washed this way.

The custom lives on.

Farmers grow vegetables
next to the house.

They dump waste water there.

The vegetables grow and
the dirty water is disposed of.

To ensure clean water
in the morning

washing in the canals
during the night was prohibited.

Article 14

From I am to 8 am

no washing is permitted.

Disposing of materials that
contaminate drinking water

is forbidden at all times.

Other regulations include:

Article 9

No raising of birds in the river.

No washing or placing of animals,
rickshaws or carts in the river.

Article 11

No disposing of trash or
refuse on the riverbank.

Article 7

No houses or walls may be
built over the river.

A parking lot built over a canal.

Takiji Mattori, 83, is the oldest
working boatman on the canals.

In the past, water was used with
extreme care around here.

What precautions
did people take?

In the old days,
we always dug a hole

to drain all kinds
of waste water.

We kept it out of the canal.

When I was a kid, we'd scoop
the water up by hand and drink it.

We'd swim in it and play in it.

We weren't allow to swim

before 10 o'clock.

There was a patrol. If we broke
the rule, they'd scold us.

They were strict.

If you swam where
it wasn't allowed?

They'd scold us.

If we swam in the wrong places
it might've caused accidents.

Used as a pool, the canals
produced an Olympic swimmer.

Of course the worst thing
you could do then,

just like now,

was to go to the bathroom
in the canals.

They said, “The Lord of the Canal
will punish you.”

“The kappa water imp will come!”

I don't know if
kappas really exist.

But when I was small, people
even said they'd wrestled them.

A samurai ancestor cut off
this kappa's hand.

It's a family treasure.

Kids prepare for
a kappa festival.

To ward off kappa,
boys ink their faces

and girls wear lipstick.

The festival is to thank
and pay respect to the river.

The kappa tradition lingers
in the play of local children.

“Look out! Bam, bam, bam!”

“Don't look back, OK?”

When you make a river offering,
don't look back!

The kappa will get you!

Part 5: Reshaping Japan

Waterways Ruined

Yabe, Kumamoto Prefecture

Hoshino, Fukuoka Prefecture

Once each place and its people
had its own water culture.

It was based on local conditions.

People applied wisdom born
of centuries of struggle.

Some of their structures survive

and remain part of people's
work and lives.

They do their work well.

Shimabara, Nagasaki Prefecture

But such survivors are few,

those that people cared for
and worked to preserve.

Our relationship with water
has changed dramatically.

Today rigid technology
ignores local factors.

Water is sealed up
in pipes and concrete.

Living at the water's edge has
been sacrificed to convenience.

Intimacy with water is forgotten.

Our water inheritance

is treated as a nuisance.

In recent decades

much of it has vanished,
along with its local meaning.

Asakura, Fukuoka Prefecture

A famous example is
Asakura's triple waterwheel.

It was preserved only by

people's commitment
and effort.

Yanagawa's little canals still
flow along as they always have.

Many people would
oppose any attempt

to turn these beautiful
canals into concrete sewers.

But ten years ago

these canals were
filled with sludge.

Water no longer flowed.

They were smelly trash dumps,
breeding insect pests.

In the 1960s,

Japan entered a period of
rapid growth and urbanization.

As eating habits changed, more
animal products were consumed.

New kitchens had running water.

Plastic drainpipes dumped waste water

from homes right into canals.

Unburnable plastic garbage
accumulated rapidly.

So most towns replaced
their canals and rivers

with underground
concrete sewers.

By 1970, Yanagawa's canals
were also on the brink.

Newspapers mocked Yanagawa
as “mosquito city.”

“The waterways are weeping”
ran the headlines.

Reclamation and factory waste
further worsened the pollution.

It wasn't just the smaller
canals in town.

Hakushu's beloved hyacinths and
wide moats were a tangled mess.

Boat traffic came
to a standstill.

Pale flowers in
a farm village canal:

Water hyacinth.

“I always wanted to see Yanagawa.

“It looks so beautiful
in the photo books.

“For me it was a mystical place.

“But actually coming here
proved depressing.

“The waterfront area
was absolutely filthy.

“Please take better care
of your town.

“Keep Yanagawa
clean and beautiful.

“Please!”

Visitors to Hakushu's home
left comments like this.

City authorities promoting
tourism struggled.

Local writer Kazuo Dan

complained to his friend,
the mayor of Yanagawa:

We have only mosquitoes,
not even shubuta.

Shubuta are river minnows
eaten after being stewed in soy sauce.

The water of the moat was
really the life of Yanagawa.

It was precious.

I've lived at one end of the moat
since I was a kid.

Former mayor Sugio Koga
I've lived at one end of the moat
since I was a kid.

I grew up drinking that water.

When I was in grade school

I crossed the Miake Bridge,

to draw water in Okinohata.

Every morning, at sunrise,
I'd come here to draw water.

That's what we drank.

With those childhood memories,
I became mayor.

The water was polluted
and no longer used.

The moat got dirtier and dirtier.

I felt sad about that.

I thought of dredging the moat.

Although our city was poor,
we used pumps

to dredge the main canals.

The old inner moat
boating course.

So the main canals
got a little better.

But then there were all

the small yet vital canals in town.

They were hopelessly dirty,
all but untouchable.

They were stagnant
and filled with garbage.

And they reeked, filling
the entire city with the stench.

I wondered what we should do.

Back then, the citizens had no
interest in cleaning the water.

I was at a loss.

Then I thought of

covering the canals with
concrete, as other cities had.

They'd become like sewers.

The filthy water would be hidden.

Covering the minor canals
with concrete seemed

like a good plan.

I spoke to the city council
about getting government aid.

I thought the city could be
improved, at some expense.

It was a 5-year project.

All but the main canals would be
covered with concrete.

The plan came together.

The Yanagawa Sewage Project.

The national government would bear
60% of the 2 billion yen cost.

The main canals of the four
districts around the moat

would become
open concrete sewers.

The smaller canals would become
culverts or U-shaped ditches.

According to this 1977 plan,

beautiful canals would be
lined with concrete.

The main canal would carry
a sluggish trickle of sewage.

The canals of watery
Yanagawa would be gone.

A real tragedy.

But things had deteriorated
past repair.

Modernization had driven out
canals all over Japan.

And the little canals had
all but disappeared.

It would be enough just
to save the castle moat.

And to do that

the smaller canals would
have to become sewers.

That's how people
thought of the plan

seeing the state of
the canals at that time.

Many citizens demanded
hygienic improvements.

The city council
and city officials agreed.

But why did Yanagawa
have so many canals?

Enough that no one would mind
as they gradually vanished?

Were they only for water supply,
firefighting and transit?

No longer needed
for those things

had the canals really
become totally useless?

Part 6:
The Plain Made by the Sea

Origin of the Waterways

Yanagawa faces the Ariake Sea.

The Ariake has Japan's
largest tidal variation.

Between the year's
highest and lowest tides

the difference is over 6.5 m.

The receding tide leaves
behind a wide mud flat.

It's inhabited by rare animals.

Mudskippers.

Fiddler crabs.

Mud springers.

Salt and fresh water mix freely.

The river brings ample nutrients,
the tide dissolved oxygen.

100-plus species of fish and
shellfish call Ariake home,

as do some unique
fishing methods.

A slender gaff is skillfully
used to catch clams.

The mud of the flat has
very fine particles.

It sucks in feet like quicksand.

To traverse it requires mud skis.

Winter seaweed cultivation.

The sea appears tranquil

but the high tide rushes in fast.

Sand from the river

is churned to fine silt
by the tides.

It muddies the water
of the Ariake Sea.

At high tide this fine silt

is deposited on the seabed
just offshore.

There it forms vast mud flats.

Coarser mud piles up where
the tide enters Okinohata.

Where the mud flats are deep

and more often dry than
flooded, reeds grow thickly.

It begins to resemble dry land.

A bountiful expanse of
reeds and rice is created.

Transition of the Osaka Plain

Since the seas stopped rising,
Japan's coastal areas

have been growing
as rivers carry silt to the sea.

Transition of the Tsukushi Plain

The Chikugo River silt doesn't
simply fill up the sea.

First the Ariake tides
turn it into mud flats.

Then it becomes dry land.

Humans have accelerated this process
through years of land reclamation.

Yanagawa's Nishikamachi district.

Many ancient Yayoi vessels
have been found here.

The Yayoi occupied this place
soon after it emerged.

They built houses on
slightly higher ground.

They sowed rice in the marshes,

battled with water,
tide and drought,

tamed the land
and then expanded it.

They transformed it
into rich farmland.

What made it possible?

Waterways, the result of
herculean ditch digging.

Life here would be impossible

without waterways.

The Yayoi built up settlements
circled with ditches

to keep out flood and tide.

They excavated low-lying
damp ground to improve drainage.

They made use of rain that
collected in the ditches.

Ditches meant life in that era.

Large irregular ditches
in Mizuma, north Yanagawa.

Most are found around dwellings.

Local place names are revealing.

Water-marsh, Bog-land,
Inlet-pond, Raft-ditch...

As their meanings indicate,
this was a swamp

until reclamation began here
centuries ago.

The lower the land
and the worse the drainage

the deeper and wider
the ditches needed to be.

Just look at these ditches.

How much time and labor
did they consume?

Our ancestors
must have sweated blood

to carve ditches and channels
into this low, flat land.

The water level is
below field level.

Only human power can raise it.

Defying gravity
with human effort

people laboriously raised
water into the fields.

A family

could not cultivate more
than a hectare in this way.

Now pumps have freed people
from this heavy burden.

Dealing with water

no longer requires
strenuous effort.

Only the benefits of the canals remain.

Now they are like reservoirs for
the fields: drought insurance.

Canals can be
drained in winter

to make dry fields for wheat.

Or used to grow
water-loving rushes.

These rushes are
used in tatami mats.

This is Japan's second-largest
tatami producing region.

Part 7. Managing the Water

The Water System Completed

Yoshimasa Tanaka captured
Mitsunari Ishida at Sekigahara.

In 1601, he moved into
Yanagawa Castle

as lord of the
wealthy Chikugo domain.

In only eight years
he took on many projects.

Building the castle town
and its canal system.

Water system improvements
and land reclamation.

He laid an agricultural
foundation in Chikugo.

Tanaka is enshrined at
Yanagawa's Shinsho-ji temple.

Many feudal lords of his era

undertook vast public works
to improve their domains' output.

The forced labor burden
on the populace was heavy.

In that era the face of
the land was reshaped.

Land productivity rose
dramatically across Japan.

But this reconstruction

followed very different ideas from
that of the modern postwar miracle.

The canal outlet at
the Okinohata docks.

The tide rises and falls daily,
flooding twice a month.

Fishing boats return on the tide.

High tide.

The Okinohata River
runs through town.

At low tide it shows
another face.

Boats stuck in the mud at
low tide float free as it rises.

A unique way of mooring boats.

It keeps them from dangling
in the air at low tide.

Upstream Yanagawa. Flood tide
back flows through a drain gate.

It empties to the Okinohata.

The Nicho-ibi sluice gates.

High tide. Harbor water level
is above canal level.

Canal water can't drain.
It is trapped.

The drainage gate at low tide.

This simple wooden valve has
held back the tide for centuries.

Onna-ibi cross-section.

The rising tide forces
the valve closed.

As the tide recedes,
drainage resumes.

With Yanagawa below sea level
at high tide,

the canals cannot drain.
Until the tide recedes,

they must store water
even in the heaviest rain.

Water seeks its level
on the slightest slope.

Extensive canals aren't enough

to stop flooding.

The town's V-dams and overflow dams.

Narrow points at road overpasses.

There are many types of
sluices and dams.

These holding dams, built at
various points, maintain water levels.

They help the water spread
throughout the canal network.

Water is stored until the tide
recedes and drainage can resume.

The reclaimed land is

divided into blocks by dikes
perpendicular to the slope.

The amount of water flowing from
block to block is controlled.

Even in heavy rain,
each block stores water

not releasing it downstream.

Water retained in these lateral
canals is drained at low tide.

This 1965 map shows the details.

Retaining trenches
in swampy Mizuma.

Long ago the jumble of ditches
were linked up.

They still served
as reservoirs

even when supplied
by river water.

Independent blocks of trenches
were connected

at only one place.

Along special trunk canals

water was released downstream
only at a set time in the spring.

Overflow dams connected blocks.

The lower sluice is for winter's
lower water levels.

Spring.
The river fills the ditches.

The dams are closed in sequence.

The water is fully retained.

Retained rainfall is used
in rice-growing.

Canal water is used repeatedly.

In heavy rain, dams are opened.

Not much water can flow over
a single dam to drain downstream.

At high tide, none at all.

If rainfall exceeds capacity

water seeps up gradually
to cover the fields.

The water recedes after
a few days

leaving fertile mud
but little damage.

The overflow dams retain water.

At high tide they protect
areas downstream

which can't drain and
would otherwise flood.

The canals maximize the amount

of rain and river water
that reaches the fields.

Rain is retained where it falls.

Then it is gradually distributed.

This holding dam system overcomes
difficult water circumstances.

It is the product of
great labor and ingenuity.

Today rain can be dumped into rivers
by pumps and pipes,

trapped with concrete dikes
and quickly flushed to the sea.

Water can be had from distant
dams built on strangers' land.

That's the modern
throwaway mindset.

But Chikugo's holding dam system
treasures nature's blessings.

It conserves energy
and respects nature.

Downpour or drought, upstream and
downstream collaborate.

Dam height and
sluice openings adjust.

Local farmers built the system
through trial and error.

The wisdom of our ancestors.

Modern water systems

subjugate nature by force,
separating use from source.

Which is truly rational?
Only time will tell.

Part 8:
A Drop of Water, A Drop of Blood

A Battle for Water

The tides flow up the
Okinohata River past Yanagawa

and reach a point just below
the Isodori Dam.

Isodori Dam at low tide.

The dam keeps the river water
from mixing with the salt water

conserving the river water
for later use.

The Hanamune River runs
north of Yanagawa to the Chikugo.

The Sakemi Dam is the last dam.

Here too a closed sluice
holds the tide

SO river water isn't wasted.

Left is downstream, right is up.

The rising tide greatly raises
the downstream water level.

The open gate lets downstream
water back flow upstream.

The difference in the water level
provides momentum.

This is called “aotori': a local
means of freshwater intake.

Due to a lower
specific gravity

fresh water floats on
the salty high tide.

It back flows upstream through the
tributary's drainage sluice

into the canals.

The aotori is ending.

The water's salt content
is checked.

Once it was done by tasting.

The Chikugo erodes
the land as it flows.

The tide can advance 20 km or
more up the shallow riverbed.

The aotori system

is the only way people can
get fresh water from this river.

In Chikugo, the sea overwhelms
the river, leading to water shortages.

But the unique holding dam system
saves water.

Providing just enough water

is the Yabe River
flowing from the east.

The Yabe water district.

It irrigates a total of
16,400 hectares.

The system includes 78 dams.

Sluices number in the thousands.

This river has been exploited to
its maximum potential.

The Yabe's source is
in these mountains.

They border three prefectures.

Since 1960,
when Hiugami Dam was built

to join the sources of the Yabe River,

Yanagawa has received
significantly less water.

4 km downstream of Hiugami Dam.

Hanameguri, the dam
furthest upstream.

Wedged in by mountains

there's no paddy land
to irrigate here.

On the right bank is an inlet.

Through it water enters a canal
carved into the cliffs.

It runs parallel to the river.

Where is it carrying the water?

Surprisingly, to nowhere.

It irrigates just a few fields.

Most of the water returns
to the river at the next dam.

Sangamyo, 3 km downstream.

Here, the intake is on
the opposite bank of the Yabe.

Again, the water enters a canal
cut into the river valley cliffs.

It doesn't pass near
any irrigated fields.

Running along the cliff,
the canal hews to the river.

Finally it waters some terraced
rice paddies along the river.

The irrigation water doesn't
drain to the river.

It collects in
a drainage channel.

Then it returns to the canal.

A large tributary joins
the river here.

A major dam redirects
the canal upstream

to receive water
from the tributary.

The dam seen from the mountain.

Except when heavy rains
make the dam overflow

not a drop enters the Yabe.

Kuroki Dam, 9 km
downstream of Sangamyo.

Just below it, the canal
rejoins the river.

Then it starts up again
on the right bank.

The canal took
much labor to build.

Yet it carries water that would
have flowed down the river.

Why in the world was it built?

In 1620, after Tanaka's rule
over Chikugo had ended

Muneshige Tachibana again
ruled in Yanagawa.

He divided the Chikugo Plain between
the Arima and the Tachibana clans.

The upper Yabe became the border.

Kurume's Hanamune Dam

was upstream of
both clans' croplands.

This dam was a lifeline for
Kurume, on the right bank.

Water taken here became
the Hanamune River

which passed 32 sluices
before rejoining the Chikugo.

This is still true today.

A larger Hanamune dam

would have threatened
the Yanagawa domain.

All their reclaimed fields
lay downstream of it.

As a countermeasure,
in 1680 Yanagawa built

the Tonose Dam
upstream of Hanamune.

It diverted water to the Hebaru
river downstream of Hanamune.

Yanagawa's Tonose Dam.

The Tonose Bypass, known as
the Yanagawa irrigation Canal.

It upset the balance
of water allotment,

starting a cycle
of bad will.

Kurume replied to Tonose by
going 2.5 km farther upstream.

There they built
the Sogouchi Dam.

In 1687, it was Yanagawa's turn.

Komino Dam and its bypass canal.

Yanagawa's first bypass was
just seven years old.

Kurume's Sogouchi Dam.

Yanagawa's Komino Dam.

Both just upstream of
a rival dam.

Both were built to take
advantage of a river bend.

But serious difficulties
followed for both domains.

The river's steep ravine
made canal-building very hard.

The 9 km of Yanagawa's
Sangamyo Bypass took until 1797.

Kurume's Hanameguri, started
later, was done 8 years sooner.

The canal-building race
lasted over 100 years.

But there was one rule
to prevent a serious clash:

No taking water from tributaries
starting in rival territory.

Those were absolutely off-limits.

Piling stones, chipping rock,
boring tunnels

diverting tributary water.
That's how the canals grew.

Forced labor severely
taxed the peasants.

The water war was life-or-death.

Landslides.

Workers falling into
the river and drowning.

Flowers are still offered at this
deity carved in the rock.

For each drop of water,
a drop of blood.

Downstream water shortages
led to an upstream water war.

The sea created the wide plain.

But only the Yabe could
slake its thirst.

Ditches and rivers
carve through the plain.

Canals snake through the hills.

Holding dams and aotori.
Proof of a struggle for water.

Part 9:
Direct Appeal, Drastic Measures

Restoring the Canals

August 1985.

Typhoon No. 13 rolled
through western Kyushu.

It hit just at flood tide,
creating a huge surge.

It damaged fishing boats
and coastal areas.

It rushed upriver and overflowed
the dikes, flooding Okinohata.

Homes were flooded,
causing great damage.

But the web of canals
around the houses

soon absorbed
the tidal overflow.

The canals prevented seawater and
waste water from stagnating.

They had done a superb job.

But in 1977, they were
filled with sludge.

Or already reclaimed, or due
to become concrete ditches.

As I recall,
it was March of 1977.

Tsutae Hiromaitsu
As I recall,
it was March of 1977.

Tsutae Hiromaitsu

Tsutae Hiromaitsu
I was suddenly
assigned the post

I was suddenly
assigned the post

of section chief
for the city sewers.

Yanagawa's canals were
a disaster area at the time.

Nowadays there are
a lot of boats

coming and going
along the inner moats.

But in those days
they were choked with weeds.

Boats had to use
the outer moats.

I was born in
a place called Kamo.

It had more canals crisscrossing
it than anywhere else in Japan.

I grew up there.

I got a job at city hall.

I worked mainly
on the water supply.

So I understood how
rivers and land were related.

And I understood how they,
in turn, related to people.

The canals had been part of
people's lives for 400 years.

The situation bothered me.

Was it right to bury the canals?

Or to turn them
into mere sewers?

So I appealed to the mayor.

The project was about
to get started.

Section Chief Hiromatsu
came to see me.

“If we give up our water,
we'll never get it back.

“Nature protects water
by purifying it naturally.

“If the canals are covered with
concrete, Yanagawa is done for.”

That was his view.

He told me to treasure
even the smallest waterway.

To work with the citizens
and restore them.

Concrete was out of the question.

He stated his views
with great conviction.

I knew it wouldn't be
easy to overturn

a project involving
the central government.

I was very wary.

But hearing Hiromatsu's
passionate proposals

I realized restoration
would be much better.

I gave him time to turn
his ideas into a plan.

Hiromatsu won
the mayor's understanding

and a six-month grace period.

He had only that long
to rally support

and create a plausible
counter proposal.

He immediately began
research and field study.

He had to do more than
just come up with a new plan

in those short six months.

He also had to win over
city officials.

The very officials promoting
the sewer plan.

At first I took our case
to each individual.

I explained the canals'
functions and contributions.

But it was too slow.

So I wrote a booklet.

“Let's Get Our Clean Water Back”

At first I had 200 copies
printed. Then I had more printed.

In the end, the total was 500.

The booklet was distributed to
officials and town assemblymen.

Now they could read my plan.

Until then, Hiromatsu rarely
wrote even postcards.

But he toiled away at
a long appeal to the citizens.

Hiromatsu's plan
for Yanagawa's canals

was comprehensive,
scientific and historical.

His Clean River Project had
clear goals and specific plans.

The officials' plan had been
shown to the public.

It had support from
higher tiers of government.

It was already
swinging into action.

Then came this new junior official
who proposed overhauling the plan.

He won over the mayor,
who completely changed course.

And that new official took charge
of implementing the new plan.

Consider the difficulty he faced.

To revive the waterways,
he was enlisting the help

of those who had
illegally polluted them.

It demanded a courageous
public servant,

energetic and decisive.

Contemporary Japanese attitudes
valued convenience above all.

Machines? All-powerful.
Everything else? Disposable.

Hiromatsu saw this
as a great danger.

It upset him that
Yanagawa was on the same path.

Hiromatsu argued to the
city council members that

Yanagawa would sink
if the canals were filled.

And he didn't just
mean symbolically.

Under the South Chikugo Plain
is Ariake clay,

mud the sea deposited
as it built the land.

It's 70% water
and up to 18 m thick.

It has the consistency of tofu.

Building on it can't be left
to those unfamiliar with it.

It made laying foundations difficult.

In the old days people built
on pine plank rafts.

The planks are visible
in this canal wall.

Yanagawa's strata.
Ariake clay is in red.

A diagram of soil formations.

The Shiroishi Plain

The Shiroishi Plain on
the Ariake's north shore.

Canals are far fewer
than in Yanagawa.

For 30 years the land
has been sinking.

The plain is on the same
Ariake clay as Yanagawa.

But the government directed
farmers here to pump groundwater.

And the land sank two meters.

What results from massive
groundwater pumping?

And from abandoning
water-retaining canals?

Shiroishi's woes provide the answer.

Now Shiroishi's governments
and citizens are paying

Original Road
huge sums to halt subsidence.

Original Road

Demolishing bridge abutments

In Yanagawa too,
many offices and hotels

depend heavily
on pumped groundwater.

If the canals are lost,
Yanagawa will surely sink too.

Land and canals are
covered in concrete.

Groundwater is pumped

and not replenished. The soil
compacts and the ground sinks.

Houses tilt.

Summer rains come.

With no place to go,
water floods the sunken ground.

The sewers have drainage pumps.

But the water overflows
before reaching them.

In 1977, eight places
with filled-in canals

suffered flooding
even in light rain.

The canals' drainage functions
had to be restored.

That was the urgent first step.

The Clean River Project was the
outline for reviving the canals.

We absolutely oppose
burying the waterways.

The specifics of the plan were
divided into three main parts.

1. Restore the canals by
dredging to re-establish flow.

2. Reduce pollution by control
and treatment of waste water.

3. Establish a suitable
management system

with citizen participation
in the clean-up.

Part 10: Living with Nature

Draining the Canals

Citizens work with the city
to conduct regular clean-ups.

Do you clean the river
every year?

Yes. We do it regularly.

I see.

How was it before?

Well... it was filthy,
full of garbage.

You couldn't get through, but
by cleaning it, now you can.

It used to have such clean water.

But you see, the houses...

Their waste water got so much
worse... but now it's improving.

Because we clean it.

How was it ten years ago?

It was wriggling with mosquito
larvae. A mosquito hotel.

And the years since?

In early August we clean it.

The mosquito population has been
dropping since we started that.

How about floods?

Floods? When it rains?

When it rains,
we have the embankment.

We don't worry much anymore.
Still...

the land here is low,
so it's always a concern.

We keep carp to control
mosquito larvae.

The city hall people
are always telling us

to keep it cleaned up.
Compared to before

it's in better shape.

Our rivers are
polluted now because

we have forgotten
their history and contributions.

We turned our back
on a tough relationship.

The key to reviving
our rivers is

to think back on
their history and contributions.

We must realize that this tough
relationship is here for good.

This “tough relationship”
described in the plan

has been revitalized
in Yanagawa

thanks to the canal
restoration started in 1978.

Futatsugawa Dam
on the Okinohata River.

The gate is lowered
to keep out trash.

This is Futatsugawa River.

All Yanagawa's water
comes from here.

It's the lifeblood of the city.

Actually it's beyond
our administrative area.

But it's so filthy
with oil and garbage.

We must clean it every day.

Tourist association
and city hall workers

and the farmers
who live downstream

cooperate in
removing the weeds.

Every summer

weeds sprout to interfere
with the current.

Especially in dry years
the weeds grow so thick

that they all but
stop the flow.

So we have to come every day

to remove the garbage
and the weeds.

A May drought.

The water is low, stagnant, dirty.
Fish gasp for air.

Water polluted by waste water
from shops and homes

flows slowly through
an outer channel

through weeds and past farms.
It grows cleaner along the way.

No new water is added.

This is natural purification.

But in flat places where the flow is
sluggish, trash accumulates.

The old adage “three feet down
it'll be clean” just isn't true.

Restrictions on waste water
discharge and

careful management have
always been crucial.

The Clean River Project requires that

septic tanks perform
three-level treatment.

City employees periodically
survey water quality.

A group of fishermen's wives is
trying to ban certain detergents.

Anyone home?

Your soap delivery for May.

AN eel restaurant's grease trap.

Many homes now treat their waste,
but enforcement's not easy.

Cold February.

Rich families used to draw the
cool clear canal water into urns,

which were sealed and buried.

It became summer drinking water.

A moat intake gate.

In winter it is closed with
many heavy boards.

An event known poetically
as “mizuochi”; water-dropping.

Nicho-ibi Dam.

The sluice is opened wide
to release the water.

In 1978, the canals were

revived and began to flow again.

The forgotten mizuochi was
also resumed,

moved from autumn to winter
due to seaweed farming.

The canal dry spell
was extended to two weeks.

Hakushu wrote:

“In late October,
in preparation

“for the autumn festival,
everyone helps

“close all the canal intakes.

“The water dries up, and the fish
and the weeds are removed.

“The mud is dredged out.

“For children, mizuochi is an
irreplaceable, enjoyable event.”

As the water level drops,
the nets swing into action.

Anyone can catch a fish now.

Carp and minnows are
caught in the nets.

Fishermen can catch fish at sea.

But can they do as well
with river fish?

A veteran with
decades of practice.

Fish gather under bridges
where the channel narrows.

Drop a net here and you can
catch a whole school at one go.

This man runs a river tour firm
at the foot of the bridge.

No tours run during
mizuochi, of course.

In Hakushu's day

children played
in the river during mizuochi.

Not these days.
The water is chilly and unclean.

The V-shape under
the bridges becomes very clear.

River tour and tourist association
employees cut the weeds.

When the water was used for
everything, including drinking,

the townspeople held an
annual clean-up during mizuochi.

Exposing the canal bottom to
the sun replenishes its oxygen.

Regional and local
waterway officials tour

the emptied canals,
seeing where repairs are needed.

Everyone pitches in to clean up.

Mud from the Ariake
and dumped garbage

are forced out of
the drainage sluice.

The jet hose is a powerful
weapon against sludge.

It's been in use since 1978.

Nishikamachi in Yanagawa.

Ditches that filled up

over the summer
are drained in the autumn.

The moat was drained

for the first time
in four years

after drawing enough water
for the winter.

Before pumps

people worked sequential
step waterwheels all night.

That drudgery is long past.

People wait for
things to dry out.

Drinking sake and
eating just-caught fish.

Forty years after the war

class distinctions are gone.

Everybody can join the fun.

Some folks can't wait,
and head for the moat.

Grab at the fish and
they'll leap away.

If you're gentle,
the fish come along easy.

“Like embracing a woman,”
says one veteran.

The carp are shared
or sold at market.

Posing for a souvenir photo.

A carp is prepared.

So fresh, it still
jumps after being cut up.

Cheers!

A big catch celebrated.

Laughter from the moat-drying
party echoes in the chilly night.

People dig canals
to conserve water

then dirty it again.

Their waste sustains duckweeds
and water grasses.

Fish flourish, mud thickens.

Nature partially
purifies the water.

Then water plants are cut and
mud dredged to become fertilizer.

People catch and eat the fish.

Kept clean, everything
in the canals is useful.

Such recycling was typical here
before chemical fertilizers.

In early spring, before taking
in water, mud was dredged.

It cleared out the canals while
providing fields with fertilizer.

Living with nature,
disposing of waste by recycling.

Our forebears
managed it superbly.

Why can't we do the same,
using modern technology?

Water flows into
the cleaned channels

and the river festival begins.

Prayers are offered against
drought and flood.

April, just after Mizuma's
spring canal filling.

Kamo's children gather
for a river festival.

Now you take your left hand, see?
Mind you don't get hurt.

Use the upper part as a handle.
Grip the lower part.

Bend it over from the other side.

Careful!

OK?

Put it in the hole.

It's done.

Try to wrap the rice up well.

So you can't see it from outside.

It's sticky!

Wet your hands!

I did.

In water?

Yeah.

Drink to the spirits!

Put in more. The bottom's
splitting. That's enough.

Now stand it up.

Tasty!

Just like Mom's!

Wow, tasty!

Really tasty!

Is the relationship with
the river merely “tough”?

It demands that those living
near the river join together.

They must share both the
difficulties and the pleasures.

The experiences build unity.

But if the unity is broken,
it is difficult to restore.

For a time people here gave up
on their “tough relationship.”

How did they rejuvenate it?

Part 11:
Residents and Government

Reviving the Canals

To go ahead with the project,
I thought:

The waterways supported
people's lives and work.

Until 20 or 30 years ago they
provided serenity and prosperity.

So I thought I'd ask the people
to recollect first,

to understand
the essence of the project,

and then ask
for their cooperation.

I considered this
the most important thing.

So I held open meetings
for people to discuss things.

More than 100 open meetings were
held about canal restoration.

Hiromatsu emphasized
the canals' importance.

He prompted people
to recall past glories.

He kindled hope
in each citizen's heart

about how wonderful
the revitalized canals would be.

At first some cynics said that
it was all just for tourists.

After a while some said,
“That part was deeper.”

Or, “There were
lots of carp there.”

Things like that.
Discussions went very congenially.

In the end they all agreed
to cooperate.

They even applauded the idea.

After the discussions,
a civic leader

asked the people to stay on
after the city hall folks left.

The leader took the initiative.

They agreed to voluntarily
give up illegal usage.

Later, I went to have a look.

They'd removed everything.

It was all gone without a trace.

I was amazed.

As for the dredging
of the waterways

city officials
and citizens cooperated.

The dredging was carried out
under direct city supervision.

A big problem was where to put
the dredged sludge.

It was hard to find a place
because of the filth and stench.

However...

When the water started
to flow again,

one after another,
people offered to help.

We started dredging not knowing
where the sludge would go.

An agricultural committeeman
saw water flowing.

He told us:

“The water's flowing for the
first time since I was a kid.”

He said, “Now that
you've done this much

I'm going to get involved
more seriously myself.”

He led us to three sites
to dump the sludge.

We went ahead and started
using those three sites.

Then one neighborhood
after another

asked us to dredge
their canals.

They offered places
to dump sludge for free.

At first we dredged
smaller canals.

We couldn't use
machines on those.

It was just a test
of human strength.

Then we came up with
the jet hose.

It helped speed up the work.

Take a look at this and
you can see that Hiromatsu

and other officials rolled up
their sleeves and worked.

They led the way in the clean-up.

And that's what inspired
everyone else to pitch in.

Dredging progressed
twice as fast as expected.

After embankment work came
main canal dredging.

Then the promenades
and riverside decks.

The total cost was just
one-fifth that of the sewer plan.

As he worked, Hiromatsu issued
updates to further educate the citizens.

Prefectural officials reacted angrily,

saying that the canals
belong to the state,

and are not
the shared property of residents.

Yanagawa's residents knew

that without the waterways
they would be flooded.

Deep down in their hearts

they wanted to renew
the river relationship.

Spending huge tax sums
on concrete and machines might

“meet their needs” in a
superficial way.

But it wouldn't make Yanagawa
more attractive.

If the government really
had faith in citizens

and explained
its actions enthusiastically,

it would draw out and harness
the people's latent energy.

And if people began cleaning up,
like in the old days,

if they really got to know
the river again,

they'd no longer be inclined
to pollute it.

So Hiromatsu thought.
And he acted on his beliefs.

Good morning!

You've been cleaning up
the canals.

How are they doing now?

Fairly clean.

I agree.

Do areas outside
the tourist route also matter?

Yes. When we cleaned places
that aren't on it

some said, “Don't bother.”

But they're Yanagawa canals too.
We must clean them all.

Do the citizens clean
the waterways themselves?

Yes.

Small canals are mostly cleaned
by the people around them.

They volunteer to work
with the city.

What's the hardest
to remove when cleaning?

The hardest to remove?

Leftover food, I guess.

It takes some skill.
And it stinks.

There's even dead dogs
and cats thrown in.

That's disgusting.

Today's trash is mostly nylon
and cans, which won't decomposed.

We didn't used to have those.

Do you have anything
to ask the citizens?

Cooperation. This work requires
a spirit of cooperation.

Now people throw away
leftovers in shopping bags.

We think that's a shame.

They shouldn't throw away food.

It's their river.

They should consider that
before throwing away food.

We need everyone to pitch in.

I agree.

Nowadays you just turn on a tap
to get drinking water anytime.

But in the future, tap water
might become undrinkable too.

I think we need to get back to
the idea of water

that we used to have.

The start of May brings the
Suitengu Festival to Okinohata.

Children perform or and a-bay as hi,
traditional festival music.

A floating stage travels up
and down the canals.

The event is unique to
Yanagawa's waterways.

Suitengu's head shrine is
in Kurume.

The people of Chikugo have long
prayed to it for protection.

This pretty gourd
holds an amulet.

You duck under the
portable shrine for luck.

A troupe performs a period play.

The floating stage
is called Sanjinmaru.

It's assembled from six
flat-bottomed boats by young men.

Having six boats is significant.

Supposedly this fishing town was
started by six Heike fugitives.

Six neighborhoods of 50 or 60
families each rotate festival duties.

Each one's turn to run the
festival comes every six years.

The neighborhood meets
to divide up the work.

Young and old, men and women,
all work to make it a success.

Girls practice the shamisen.

Housewives prepare fortunes.

Once, adults and youths
performed the music.

A preservation group formed
15 years ago.

Since then children
ages 11 to 14 have taken over.

New members practice hard
as the festival nears.

Citizens handle all aspects
of the festival:

Shrine matters, money,
planning, vendors...

The festival belongs
to the people.

Seating is allocated
for the six neighborhoods.

The Suitengu Festival is

by, for and of the
townspeople of Okinohata.

Oh, too bad! Second prize!

You got second prize!

Such festivals teach people
solidarity and self-government.

During Japan's boom years,
many festivals vanished.

The youths responsible for music
in Okinohata left to find jobs.

A preservation group
had to be formed.

Those were the days when
Okinohata's canals were fouled.

But now people's civic pride and
cooperative spirit are reborn.

Yanagawa's waterways
are recovering with it.

The canals again
perform many roles.

Bringing serenity
and prosperity is one of them.

Executive Producer
Hayao Miyazaki

Screenplay by
Isao Takahata

Theme Music by
Yoshio Mamiya

Special Cooperation by
Tsutae Hiromatsu

Subtitles by Aura

A Nibariki Presentation

We thank the people of Yanagawa,
who made this film possible.

Producer
Susumu Kubo

Directed by
Isao Takahata