The shipwreck of the Izumo Maru in 1892

Jemulpo Harbor in the early 20th century. Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

On April 2, 1892, at around two in the afternoon, the Japanese steamship, the Izumo Maru, sailed out of Jemulpo (modern Incheon) harbor bound for Kobe, Japan. Captain Minamide Oshi was likely quite pleased with himself and his crew. It was the ship's maiden voyage on the Japan-Korea route and it looked as if this first trip would be profitable. It had a full cargo of beans, rice, mail and other sundries and was filled ― perhaps over-filled ― with passengers. Among the Japanese passengers were Mr. T. Hayashi (the secretary of the Japanese legation in Seoul) and a young naval surgeon from a Japanese warship. There were about 20 Chinese and a handful of Korean passengers; one of the Korean passengers was "a high official."

The voyage, at first, was uneventful, but, early in the morning on the fourth day, the steamship encountered rough seas "causing the ship to roll heavily." Throughout the day, the vessel continued on its course but in the late evening, the wind died down, and, "The sea soon became enveloped in a thick mist, blotting everything out of sight."

It was just after midnight, near Wando Island (South Jeolla Province), that Captain Minamide "suddenly noticed some broken white waves immediately in front of his vessel. He at once ordered the man at the wheel to put it hard-a-port, and the engineers to reverse engines at full speed."

It was too late. With a sickening crunch, the ship struck the submerged rocks. Immediately, the captain had the engines stopped and a depth sounding was made. At the bow, the water's depth was about 2 and a half meters deep, but at the stern, the lead did not touch bottom! The ship was badly leaking at the bow but, because it was wedged between the rocks, Captain Minamide was convinced his ship would not go down immediately. He issued orders for life belts to be distributed and preparations made to abandon the ship, but because of the waves pounding upon the vessel, the crew struggled getting the life boats into the water. On the port side, one boat was lowered but it struck the side of the ship and was partially damaged, causing it to quickly fill with water. Understandably, the passengers were reluctant to board it. Their reluctance proved fatal.

The pounding waves suddenly shifted the ship's position, causing the bow to rise up and the Idzumo Maru slipped backwards into deep water. It quickly sank.

According to one account: "The life boat was lowered but there was no time for the passengers to get aboard, the ship sinking in about twelve minutes after striking the rock. Amid the weeping and screaming of the passengers it went down to the bottom of the sea."

Korean ships in Jemulpo Harbor in the early 20th century. Robert Neff Collection

Fortunately, the damaged life boat did not sink and three crewmen managed to swim to it. From the life boat's precarious safety, they were able to rescue eight other crewmembers ― including the captain ― and one passenger (Ishizaki Iwazo). They were eventually rescued by the Japanese gunboat, Atago.

Judging from the accounts, there is some confusion as to what actually happened aboard the ship during the accident. According to the London and China Telegraph:

"The steamer was on its way to Fusan, and, during a thick fog, struck on a sunken reef. A scene of the wildest excitement followed, and the Chinese passengers and sailors rushed about in the most abject state of panic, tumbling into the boats and fighting between themselves to get a place. Several of the boats on the port side were swamped, and it was only by holding half-a-dozen revolvers to their heads that the officers could get the passengers to desist from attempting on their own part to lower the boats. While the sailors were getting the boats ready the steamer suddenly slid off the rock and immediately commenced to settle down. Within a few minutes she completely disappeared beneath the waves. Three of the sailors succeeded in swimming to an upturned lifeboat, and, getting in, they then rescued the captain, one passenger, and seven of the crew."

It was a horrific story ― literally. Most of the article was filled with wild fabrications mixed in with a smattering of facts.

The Korean Repository (an English-language magazine published in Seoul in the 1890s) suggested that more passengers were not saved because "the accident occurring in the dark night and the motion of the ship being very severe no one could stand or walk. Most of them had retired and being frightened by the water rushing in from below drowned before they had time to go on deck."

The loss of life and property was enormous: 28 passengers and 26 crew members, the cargo of rice, beans and assorted sundries and about 1,750 pieces of mail.

There was also a great deal of condemnation of the captain, especially by Ferdinand H. Morsel, "a Master Mariner," at Jemulpo. Morsel found fault with everything. According to him, "The weather at the time was fine and clear, though overcast. There was moonlight and a fresh breeze blowing." He implied that the captain was unfamiliar with the waters ― this trip being the steamer's first voyage to Korea ― and that he had erred when the ship struck the rocks by having the crew reverse the engines.

"Had the vessel been kept on the rock, even if it had required the use of the engines to do so, the passengers could have made their escape to some of the adjacent rocks. One life is worth more than a steamer with her cargo; property can be replaced, but life once lost cannot be restored."

He further added, "I can only express my unqualified disapproval of" reversing the ship off the rocks.

Morsel also took great pains to point out that the Idzumo Maru's crew was "entirely officered and manned by Japanese." He compared this shipwreck to an earlier one involving a German ship chartered by the Korean government. The German ship, commanded by a German, "was lost during a dense fog without the loss of life. The captain in that case first looked to the safety of the passengers before he undertook to back his vessel off." Morsel was somewhat infamous in the foreign community for his very vocal expressions of his opinion. It is strange to note that the London and China Telegraph claimed the majority of the crew were Englishmen.

The foreign community in Jemulpo was made painfully aware of the loss of life through the grief of Hori Rikitaro, the proprietor of the Daibutsu Hotel. [please link https://www.koreatimes.co.kr/www/nation/2020/07/177_275372.html] His beloved second son was aboard the ship and his body was never recovered. The grieving father "gave a mock funeral to the corpse. The procession was attended by nearly all the Japanese residents and the ceremony at the burial ground was very imposing."

As for Captain Minamide, a Marine Court of Inquiry found him guilty of gross mismanagement in the discharge of his duties. Despite the charges and the heavy loss of life, his punishment was rather light: his captain's certificate was suspended for two years.

Sadly, this incident would not be the last fatal shipwreck in Korean waters. Those tales, however, deserve an article of their own in the future.

My appreciation to Diane Nars for her invaluable assistance.

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