DUMPLING Magazine

Japanese Dock: Memory and Perspective

Like many Oregonians, I find myself flocking to anything new and unusual occurring on our beaches, if only to see it for myself. While the travel was short from Salem, Ore., to the Pacific Ocean, my wife and I found many other folks had come from farther still to see this piece of history.

The Japanese dock floated onto Agate Beach in Newport, Ore., after going through much turmoil during the tsunami that ravaged Japan in 2011. This dock, although concrete, is still quite buoyant. By means beyond me, this 66-foot long vessel floated across the Pacific to arrive in early June, mostly intact, a world away.

Part of the dock, twisted and broken from its long travel across the Pacific.

During our visit, we were among many other folks who came to see this dock. It saddened me to realize that a piece of such tragedy has quickly become another tourist pit stop on the Oregon coast, along with the Sea Lion Caves and the Oregon Coast Aquarium. People came in hoards. The many who walked away after viewing the dock were quickly replaced by just as many people approaching.

The force necessary to move this monster amazed me. Not only had mother nature rendered this dock thousands of miles across the ocean, but she also clearly had ripped it away from its original home.

The true meaning as to what this dock symbolizes was evidently lost to most of the people around me. Many stood taking pictures in groups, smiling and laughing in front of the wreckage. Others defiled this symbol by climbing about it as though it were their own adult jungle gym. Adult and child alike, none seemed fazed by what this meant or where it came from.

Visitors clamber over the dock washed up after the tsunami last year.

After a lull in the hoard taking their photos, I approached and placed my hand upon the dock. I said a short prayer for all the people lost to this catastrophe. As though to show me my time with the dock was at its end, the ocean crept up and around the front of the dock, ushering me away. Shortly thereafter, I departed from the sight, my own photos snapped, a part of the crowd, while the hoard returned to treating the dock as its new favorite photo spot.

Though my time was short, I was able to see first-hand a piece of history, a tragic and saddening piece, but a very real piece that’s only just beginning to heal.

Photos: Allan Vigue

Editor’s Note: This article is purely the opinion of the author and does not reflect the views and opinions of Dumpling Magazine LLC or its partners and staff in whole or in part. Edited for style and grammar but not intent.

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