Every February 10 at Uwajima Fishery High School (宇和島水産高校) in Uwajima, Ehime Prefecture, about 300 students and staff gather to bow their heads in solemn silence and honor the memories of the dead. A bell is rung nine times, one peal for each of the nine people killed in a 2001 maritime accident involving one of the school’s training vessels and a US Navy submarine, known as the ” Ehime Maru incident” (えひめ丸事故; Ehimemaru jiken). The tragedy heightened tensions between the two countries and called to question the US Navy’s handling of international maritime accidents. It also highlighted the misgivings that arise when two countries, with two different ideas on expressing apologies and regrets, try to make sense of a tragedy and respect the wishes of the victims’ families.
A Day of Tragedy
On February 9 PST (February 10 JST), the Ehime Maru departed Honolulu for fishing grounds off of Oahu. The 13 students on board were training for careers in the fishing industry; their curriculum included but wasn’t limited to, marine engineering and oceanography.
The USS Greeneville, meanwhile, was putting on quite the performance for its civilian guests. The Greeneville was one of many who hosted influential members of society to impress upon them the necessity to maintain a fleet of nuclear-powered submarines. In order to further impress the VIP civilians on board, Commander Scott Waddle ordered the USS Greeneville to perform an emergency ballast-blow surfacing maneuver. This involves releasing high-pressure air into the ballast tanks, forcing out water and lightening the vessel so it can rise rapidly to the surface. The submarine rises with enough speed that its bow shoots out of the water, much like a whale breaching the surface.
When the submarine suddenly broke the surface, it collided with the Ehime Maru, plowing through its hull. The Ehime Maru sank in ten minutes. Of the 35 people on board, 9 people perished — 3 crew members, 2 instructors, and 4 high school students, supposedly trapped in the ship’s galley near the engine room. 26 others were thrown overboard and eventually rescued. Meanwhile, the Greeneville suffered minimal damage in comparison.
Two Different Reactions
Media helicopters were right on the tail of search and rescue helicopters and the Coast Guard, and news of the incident soon spread. US President George W. Bush was quick to issue a statement expressing his sadness over the incident. The same could not be said for Japan’s Prime Minister Mori Yoshiro (森喜朗), former secretary-general of the Liberal Democratic Party (LDP). Known as having “the heart of a flea and the brain of a shark” (「サメの脳みそ、ノミの心臓」), Mori was far from popular with the Japanese public. Opinion polls reflected poorly on him, and his tenure was peppered with gaffes and trite remarks. When the Ehime Maru accident occurred, Mori was on vacation playing golf with shareholders at an exclusive resort. He continued to play golf despite receiving not one but three reports on the incident. When the media caught wind of this, Japanese civilians were rightfully mad. His failure to respond accordingly and issue a statement, coupled with heightening public criticism, forced him to resign in April 2001.
Who is to Blame?
It didn’t take long for people to start speculating on what really happened. Captain Onishi (大西) of the Ehime Maru, who had survived, immediately called for an investigation. If the Greeneville really did detect the Ehime Maru by sonar, why didn’t it move away before performing the emergency ballast-blow surfacing maneuver? Why wasn’t the Greeneville assisting in rescue efforts? When it came out that civilian VIPs were on board the Greeneville, people were even more concerned. Why would the Navy engage in high-risk maneuvers with civilians on board? And was it true that two civilians were at the controls when the ballast blow occurred?
These questions and more were asked of Waddle and the Greeneville crew when they faced inquiries from the US Navy and the National Transportation Security Board in Hawaii. Family members of the victims’ were present during the hearings. The court found several issues culminating in the incident, most notably crew negligence and failure to follow through with protocol. For instance, rather than hold course and wait 3 minutes for sonar capabilities to be restored after previous deep-sea maneuvers, Waddle only waited 90 seconds. Shortcuts like these had occurred with disturbing frequency. None of the civilian guests onboard the Greeneville were asked to testify.
Finally, after reviewing evidence and testimonies, the US Navy determined there was no need for a court-martial. Waddle got off with an honorable discharge, and other crew members were placed on administrative leave. This did not sit well with relatives of the deceased, to put it mildly. Sadly, while the US Navy has a habit of investigating and disciplining the parties responsible for other maritime incidents, they rarely seek criminal charges.
The Art of the Apology
Politicians from both the US and Japan convened in Hawaii to navigate the aftermath of the collision. Yet the persons responsible for the incident, and the order in which they apologized, didn’t sit well with many Japanese. For a US Navy Admiral with no connections to the collision to apologize on behalf of those who were responsible seemed insincere. In the States, an apology is largely seen as an admission of guilt; in Japan, it’s seen as an expression of concern for the other person. As Mark Magnier wrote in a Los Angles Times piece, “In the Japanese context, Waddle, as the person most directly responsible for the accident, should have apologized first and quickly — well before President Bush.”
Waddle traveled to Uwajima in December 2002. While some of the survivors and grieving family members met with Waddle, officials were notably absent during his visit to the high school’s Ehime Maru memorial. Meeting with the families and survivors more than a year after the tragedy screams “too little, too late” but Waddle’s lawyer says the Navy discouraged Waddle from making apologetic overtures on his own.
Handling the Psychological Fallout
The Ehime prefectural government established a team of nurses and doctors specializing in mental health to care for the survivors and the families of the bereaved. Unsurprisingly, all of the 9 surviving students were diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Due to concerns about the risk of suicide, each student was assigned two public health nurses, and teachers were educated on how to spot and handle PTSD symptoms.
Eleven of the surviving crew members were also diagnosed with PTSD. In a comprehensive report on the mental health care services and psychological well-being of the Ehime Maru survivors, the crew members struggled to comprehend life after trauma, saying 「PTSDになったら一生治らない」(“If we have PTSD, we’ll never heal.”) More effort was made to fully educate the victims about PTSD. Counseling services were also provided for the bereaved families.
Raising the Dead
The wreckage of the Ehime Maru was located on February 16, 2001, at a depth of 600 meters. Not long after the discovery, the US Navy and government found themselves inundated with requests from the bereaved families to raise the shipwreck and recover the remains of the dead. The US Navy huffed and moaned about the costs of raising the wreck, but eventually began plans to do just that in June. Japan sent the rescue submarine Chihaya manned by the Maritime Self-Defense Force (MSDF) to assist in recovering the victims’ remains and other salvageable effects. In October they moved the wreck to shallow waters just off Oahu. Initial estimates placed the costs of raising the wreck at around $40 million, but in the end, the US shelled out roughly $60 million dollars in operating costs. Eight bodies were recovered by divers; the ninth, a student, was never found.
Critically acclaimed journalist and TV reporter Sakurai Yoshiko ( 櫻井良子) writing for Shukan Diamond (週刊ダイヤモンド) believed the US did its best in devoting resources to salvaging the Ehime Maru and its victims’ remains, especially in light of the 9/11 terrorist attacks. She also noted that the Hawaiians especially deserved recognition:
現地ハワイの新聞を読むと“日本人の心を尊重せよ”“犠牲者の想いに心せよ”などという表現にしばしば出会った。二つの異なる価値観のなかで、米国側は日本人の心に配慮しつつ、総じてよく努力したと私は思う。とりわけハワイの人びとは、現地を訪れた遺族への支援と配慮を忘れなかった。
When reading local Hawaiian newspapers I frequently come across phrases like “respect the hearts of the Japanese” and “keep the emotions of the victims in your thoughts.” Despite our countries’ opposing values, I think the Americans all in all have done their utmost best to consider the feelings of the Japanese. The Hawaiians especially did not neglect to support and care for the bereaved families who visited the area.
The US Navy provided financial compensation to Ehime prefecture to cover the reconstruction of a new Ehime Maru and to help fund medical costs for the survivors. They also paid roughly $13.9 million to 33 of the 35 families affected by the incident. Two of the families extracted conditions from the Navy before accepting the compensation — in-person apologies from the persons responsible, a thorough investigation, and efforts to prevent similar tragedies in the future.
Eighteen Years Later
Japan and Hawaii have respectively done their part to ensure that what happened to the Ehime Maru is never forgotten. In 2003 Japan’s National Association of Fisheries and High Schools designated February 10 as “Sea Safety Prayer Day” (海の安全祈念日; Umi no Anzen Kinen Bi ). Ehime Maru memorials stand in both Uwajima and Honolulu, with services for the dead held every year. The new Ehime Maru was redesigned with safety in mind. Sleeping quarters are now built above sea level, and the ship itself is smaller. But this new attention to detail came about at a terrible price. To say this incident could have been avoided is a severe understatement. Had the right people in charge done their jobs and followed protocol, nine people wouldn’t have died, and dozens more wouldn’t be living with trauma. That’s something no apology can erase.
