A verse from “The Railway Song” by 1950’s male quartet Dark Ducks goes like this:
I see Odaiba in Shinagawa from the window
White waves crashing through
You look so blurry in the sea
And are those mountains Kazusa or Bōshū?
The first train in Japan raced to life in 1872.
Its 29-kilometer route began in Shinbashi and ended in Yokohama.
The whistle blows. Black smoke erupts to the sky as the steam locomotive chugs into life.
The route passed along a breakwater built above Shibaura waters.
Ocean waves crashed beneath the open windows, sending white spray flying into the train.
The sight of a train racing over the sea became emblematic of Meiji-era Westernization.
The advent of the railway changed Shibaura from a fishing town to a seaside resort.
Moon-viewing events melded with summer evening outings, boating and fireworks shows. Morning clam-diggers navigated new visitors out for a swim.
A hot-spring resort that ran on boiling seawater was also built, and it wasn’t long before the red-light district followed, announced by the sight of geisha and the sounds of the shamisen.
Shibaura’s history is partially one of land reclamation.
The ocean train suddenly makes landfall, into a red-light district that stretches all around the railway.
At the same time, plants for companies like Toshiba, Tokyo Gas, Shibaura Seisakusho, and Yanase were built on reclaimed land.
And the seaborne Shibaura breeze now carried more than just the smell of fish. It brought the scent of new culture, of a Westernized Tokyo. It was the smell of a “Port.
As Japan entered the Taishō Period,
Shibaura faced a crucial turning point.
September 1st,1923, 11:58 AM.
Suddenly, the ground rumbled and surged. It was the Great Kanto Earthquake.
The Tokyo townscape, primarily made up of wooden houses, was ablaze in the blink of an eye. The Shibaura and Takeshiba regions did not escape this fate.
Railroads and highways were shut down. Shipping was interrupted.
Once again, Tokyo Bay received a lot of attention; ships packed with relief supplies arrived from every region in Japan.
However, because it is a wide, shallow bay, large vessels could not approach the shore.
To solve the issue, a temporary cargo depot was built on Shibaura’s reclaimed land. Rice, lumber, and medical supplies were transferred from large to small vessels, and stockpiled in heaps before being sent into the city.
Meanwhile, the Nihonbashi fish market was devastated as well, and it would take three months before it was permanently relocated. The temporary fish market built at the Shibaura shore flourished at that time.
After the quake, many people clamored for a proper harbor to be built in Tokyo.
Tokyo could no longer afford to rely on Yokohama.
Thus, Tokyo’s first true quay, Hinode Wharf, was built.
Shibaura Pier and Takeshiba Pier were built soon after; the latter was built on a fire-ruined area.
Then in 1941, the long awaited Tokyo Harbor was opened at last.
It would be some years before the area was named “Minato Ward.”
Development of the bay may have necessitated the creation of a new Ward, which would then be so named.
After the end of World War 2, Japan entered a period of rapid economic growth; Tokyo also played host to the Olympics.
An expressway to Haneda Airport was built in Takeura, with a monorail running above it.
However, the shore where people once dug for clams and gathered for moon-viewing was disappearing under all of this development.
Economic development cast a shadow over Tokyo Bay as the water quality deteriorated and the fishermen were forced to give up their fishing rights.
Nevertheless, the memories accumulated here kept people coming back again and again.
During the 1980s, companies shook up the bay with the notion of “waterfront development.”
Some of the storehouses and quays were repurposed. Restaurants, clubs and art galleries appeared as well.
Shibaura garnered much buzz as a culture hotspot.
Nothing symbolized this like the British-Japanese discotheque, Juliana’s Tokyo. The gigantic club appeared in Shibaura all of a sudden, garnering lines of people every day since its opening. During the weekends it was frequented by many thousands of people.
Glitzy lights, deep bass, women in tight clothes waving feathery fans, getting down on the platform. Endless television and magazine coverage. The sight engraved itself as a symbol of the Bubble Economy.
All the glamour somehow calls to mind the Shibaura of old.
The bustle recalls the clam-digging and moon-viewing crowds of the Edo Period; the hot springs and red-light districts of the Meiji Period.
Shibaura is an ever-changing land, morphing with the times; and yet through it all, people gather, their voices in unison, always keeping the heat and energy alive.
And now, we arrive at the present.
Storehouses have been repurposed again. This time into cutting-edge office complexes.
High-rise apartments and office buildings huddle close. The wild discotheque nights of those golden times are no more than a memory now.
Still, when you turn the corner on one of those buildings, it hits you; a briny scent, tinged with heat – the scent of an age gone by.
— So, why is it called “Minato Ward”?
“Minato” means “Harbor” in English. The name reflects the past while challenging the future.
How will this harbor be used and developed? In what state will the next generation receive it?
You viewed the ocean from the promenade at Takeshiba today –
As you face that endless blue, what future do you imagine for Tokyo?