Busan in 19th century: Sharks and mermaids

At the beach in Busan in the early 20th century Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

For many people, summer means frolicking on the beach with friends and family. It is a time to enjoy the sun, the water and the beautiful views ― but there are also discomforts associated with the beach: too much sun leads to sunburns, sand everywhere including in your swimsuit and the huge crowds and subsequent larger amount of litter. There is, of course, the unspoken danger of sharks. People normally do not think about sharks in Korea but lately they have been in the news ― their recent appearances are blamed upon global warming.

But sharks aren't really newcomers to Korean waters ― especially in the southern parts of the country. According to various trade reports from the late 19th century, one of Korea's chief exports was shark fin. And, if we are to believe the Western accounts, shark flesh was once quite popular in local markets.

In 1890, the customs commissioner at Fusan (modern Busan) surnamed Hunt even described the very lucrative shark fishery at that port being carried on by "an enterprising company of Japanese merchants." The company employed a large number of fishing boats which would fish the waters around that port ― presumably late at night or very early in the morning ― and harvest about 900 sharks a month. Each morning, the sharks and the other fish caught would be brought into the port and taken to an auction at a fish market that had been established recently.

The sharks were processed in a rather simple manner. The fins were cut off and then allowed to dry ― once dried, they were sent to China by one of the steamships that visited the port every week or so. As for the shark's carcass, this was sold to Korean dealers for a dollar or a dollar and half (depending on the size) and the Korean buyer would then transport it inland ― sometimes a considerable distance ― where it was viewed as a much much-relished food.

A crowded beach in Busan in the early 20th century ― no sign of mermaids Robert Neff Collection

According to Hunt, the company sold between $1,350 and $1,950 of shark products a month which made its investors very happy after they received a dividend of 30 percent.

Sharks were not the only prey. In 1891, a Korean "whale-fishing syndicate" based in Fusan had a fleet of 22 whale boats and 256 sailors (it isn't clear if they were all Korean or a mixture of Japanese and Korean) who would go out each morning at dawn and hunt for whales. According to one account:

"On sighting a whale two boats, lowering between them a large net made of strong rope, range themselves so as to closely encompass the whale, when the other boats advance and several harpoons are driven into the animal. The net is tightly drawn round it to secure its tail and to pin, as it were, the whale's flippers to the sides and so prevent it from diving or injuring the whalers in its frantic endeavours to escape."

In a period of just five months, the company managed to kill 17 whales which were taken to Fusan, cut up and reportedly sold for about $20,000 (which seems a little inflated). Most of the whale meat was consumed locally but a large amount of it was sent to Japan where it was either sold in the local markets or boiled and rendered into oil. The article noted that it could not be boiled in Fusan because of the exorbitant price of firewood.

The southern part of the peninsula possessed other dangers and treasures of the deep that seem a bit fishy when viewed through modern eyes.

Busan in the early 20th century ― not everyone went to the beach to swim. Robert Neff Collection

In 1909, some fishermen caught a giant skate near Geoje Island that was "as large as a six mat room" and weighed almost 2,000 kilograms. It was taken to Fusan the following day and sold in the market. Considering that the largest recorded (and verified) skate caught was in 1968 and it weighed 97 kilograms, I am inclined to believe that there is a wee bit of exaggeration in the Geoje Island skate story.

Of course, not all of these fantastic catches were reserved for just Korean islands. In 1891, a fisherman spotted a "very singular looking fish" near Tsushima. He immediately grabbed his spear and killed it ― of course ― and was dismayed (at least in the beginning) to discover that the object he had speared was a woman ― but a tiny woman. With the spear piercing her breast, she floated lifelessly in the water, her long hair surrounding her face as her eyes stared unseeingly into the sky. As he pulled her aboard the boat he noticed that from the belly down she resembled a fish ― complete with scales and tail, similar to that of a carp. The entire body was less than a meter long.

The fisherman was convinced that he had captured (killed) a "nigyo" ― a mermaid. The fishermen, being quite knowledgeable in regard to the legends of the sea, promptly cut it up and cooked it. It is said that devouring the flesh of one of these mermaids grants a long life of at least 1,000 years. The fisherman was more than satisfied with his catch of the day; he would enjoy an almost immortal life and the flesh of the mermaid "was exceedingly palatable, much superior in taste to bream or a carp."

Unfortunately for the fisherman, he apparently forgot another legend associated with these mermaids ― they only "make their appearance on the eve of a great tempest." The very next day the region was visited by a powerful typhoon. Of course, he managed to survive Mother Nature's vengeance otherwise we wouldn't know of this epic event.

It is a shame that we do not know the fisherman's name but I am hoping that he reads this and contacts me as I would really love to hear more of your fish tales.

Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.