Rafting adventures on the Geum River in the 1970s

The Geumgang (Silk River) from the walls of the mountain fortress in Gongju in 2017. Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

When John K. Jackson, an American Peace Corps Volunteer, arrived in Gongju in February 1971, the first thing he noticed was Geumgang (Silk River) and its "lovely sandy shores." The river would become an important part of his life while he lived in that city and is still one of his most cherished memories.

Jackson lived in a "thatch roof farmer's house" in a large pine thicket near the river, which he had to cross to get to the university where he taught. One day, in the summer, rather than walking the twenty minutes to the bus stop to take the ten minute bus trip to his school, he decided to wade across the seemingly shallow river as a shortcut. Holding his book bag, pants and shoes over his head, he started across, only to realize that it was far deeper than he initially thought.

"I taught my classes in a shirt wet up to my chest. It was one way to beat the heat when there was no air conditioning."

Another way to cross the river was by the Bear Ferry Crossing ― basically a small skiff that would ferry passengers across the river for about 50 won one way. It was a fairly simple system with no timetable. If the ferry was on the opposite bank, the would-be passenger merely needed to get the ferry operator's attention (either by waving or yelling) and he would promptly respond. However, it didn't always work that way.

A small ferry in the Gongju area in 1971. Courtesy of John Keaton Jackson

On several occasions, Jackson saw the skiff on the opposite bank but not the ferry operator. After yelling several times and receiving no answer, Jackson, leaving his clothes and book bag on shore, swam across the river to get the skiff, where he found its operator "passed out on makgeolli [a Korean rice wine] in the bottom of the skiff." The ferry operator always claimed "he had a war wound" as an excuse for his intoxicated state. In order to retrieve his books and clothing, Jackson learned how to scull the skiff and this experience awoke in him a desire to get to know the river more intimately.

"Living on that river, it seemed natural to wish to take advantage of an adventure waiting to be had," explained Jackson, and so, the day before the start of the three-day Chuseok holiday, he and an American soldier (who was stationed in Okinawa but was in Korea on vacation) built the "Jini Ho," a crude raft made from a plywood deck resting on 4 old oil drums. It had a mast ― from which flew the Korean flag ― and a scull device so that it could be somewhat steered.

The raft was named in honor of a woman whom Jackson greatly admired, Hwang Jini. Also known as Myeongwol (Bright Moon), she was a famous 16th-century gisaeng poet famed for her overwhelming beauty and intelligence. One of Jackson's students presented him with a copy of one of her most famous poems, which had a deep impact upon him.

She was, declared Jackson, "Beautiful, talented, and had a quicker wit than the men who thought they could use her." Indeed, the name was quite a name for such a humble vessel.

Jackson aboard a local bus in Gongju in the early 1980s. Courtesy of John Keaton Jackson

The following morning, the Jini Ho and her crew began their great adventure:

"As it was Chuseok holidays, our two-night-three-day journey was a moving visual feast as we floated past farmers along the shore, decked out in their finest hanbok outfits and traveling here and there with bundles balanced on their heads."

Unfortunately, there are only one or two images from the voyages and they are in poor condition. Jackson and his fellow crewmembers preparing the Jini Ho II for their voyage in 1972. Courtesy of John Keaton Jackson

Apparently the Korean farmers were somewhat surprised and amused to see the two Americans floating idly down the river.

Jackson admits, that with the passage of time, "Most of the journey is a blur now," but, he insists, "What happened near the coast [of the West Sea] is as clear as if it happened yesterday."

They were nearing their final destination, Gunsan, when the tide turned at dusk and they were forced to row to the relative safety of the riverbank where, as in the previous night, they climbed into their sleeping bags and went to sleep.

"The next thing I knew," recalled Jackson, "I was awakened by an angry voice shouting in Korean and ordering us to show our faces. Which we did, of course, only to find ourselves staring into the muzzle of a rifle being aimed at us by a young soldier standing on the shore."

Jackson quickly identified himself as "a professor from a university up the river" and after the soldier determined they were not spies, he allowed them to continue their journey. Unlike the previous evening, however, the tide was now with them and they "were propelled downstream at an impressive clip."

The Geumgang and Goransa Temple in Buyeo in the 1930s. Robert Neff Collection

They were soon were confronted with a new dilemma. As they neared the docks at Gunsan, they realized that they were unable to steer the Jini Ho and that there was a real possibility that they could be swept out into the Yellow Sea, which, Jackson jokingly explained, could have resulted in an "international maritime incident" or, at the very least, "an embarrassing rescue at sea."

Fortunately, Lady Luck and Mother Nature had an affinity for the hapless American would-be sailors, and the Jini Ho drifted near the docks, where some fishermen stared in dumb amazement. "Unlike the [Korean] soldier, they were impressed, and doubly so when they saw it was a couple of [foreigners]" sailing the strange vessel. It was through the fishermen's quick reactions that the Jini Ho was soon safely moored to the dock.

Once ashore, [Jackson] trekked into town to look for a junk yard in order to sell the oil drums, leaving the [American soldier], who spoke no Korean, to answer the many questions the fishermen were asking. When [Jackson] returned soon with a buyer, to [his] utter astonishment, the raft ― oil drums intact ― was sitting high and dry atop the dock."

"And," confides Jackson, "to this day, I regret not having had the opportunity to watch those fishermen manhandle that heavy bulky craft up and out of the water."

The Geumgang from above Goransa Temple in Buyeo in 2020. Robert Neff Collection

Jackson enjoys telling this tale to his Korean friends and he is always amazed when they insist that "a Korean would never have imagined" building a raft and sailing down the river in the 70s ― but that isn't quite true.

The very next year, Jackson and a couple of his students built another raft, appropriately named the Jini Ho II, and drifted down the river. They were not blessed with the glorious fall weather of the first voyage or its good fortune. Instead, they were drenched with rain and when they stopped for some makgeolli at a small drinking establishment along the river, they almost lost the raft when it broke loose from its mooring.

When they tied the raft up for the night, they used a line tied to a local ferry and in the morning were suddenly confronted by the angry ferry operator, who claimed they had damaged his boat. He demanded compensation and ― as they had no money ― they were forced to relinquish the bottle of beer they were saving to celebrate their safe arrival at Gunsan.

For the first two days of their journey, they dined on Chuseok treats that the students had brought with them and he recalls "dining on instant noodles while being swept in circles in a whirlpool caused by the incoming tide." However, on the night they pulled ashore near Gunsan, they were completely out of food. One enterprising student, sent out to find them something to eat, returned with a little rice he had apparently liberated from an unmonitored kitchen, as there was no place to buy anything. The less said about the incident, the better.

Goransa Temple in Buyeo in 2020. Robert Neff Collection

Jackson later learned that the university's president heard of the voyage of the Jini Ho II and was somewhat displeased, but kept his displeasure to himself. I like to imagine that he was a little jealous of Jackson and his students' daring ― the ability to act like carefree kids during the hard times of the 1970s.

The voyages of the Jini Ho (one and two) are Jackson's most enduring memories of Chuseok ― the exhilaration of rising to a challenge which one could not afford to fail and the adventures and misadventures of the task.

Jackson laments, "These experiences have pretty much spoiled me forever when I find myself passing the Harvest Moon Festival while eating treats in an apartment…and, like the river, time has flowed and things have changed and those days will never return."

Jackson still continues his half-century-long exploration of Korea's mountains and rivers. His photographs can be viewed at: https://farthereast.zenfolio.com/

Jackson in a Farmer's Dance in the 1970s. Courtesy of John Keaton Jackson

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