The key is to watch the headgear. If the inquisitor is wearing a triangular funeral headdress, you are up the proverbial creek without a paddle: damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Hand over the requested ladle and the Funa-yurei will use it to scoop a tremendous quantity of water into your boat, scuttling it. Refuse—or simply happen to not have a ladle on hand—and they will capsize your vessel in fury. In either case you’re going on a one-way trip to the Japanese equivalent of Davy Jones’ Locker.
Funa-yurei are known to exploit the use of lighthouses (or signal fires in the old days) by generating false lights to confuse and lure fishing vessels farther out to sea. Seasoned navigators know to keep careful watch: the position of human-generated lights remains fixed, but the phantom glow of a Funa-yurei tends to flicker, bob, and weave.
A 19th-century print showing the Funa-yurei in action. Note the ladle.
WEATHER WATCH:
Funa-yurei appearances often accompany strange weather patterns, such as a sunny day suddenly turning cloudy or waves and whitecaps developing in a dead calm. Nights of the full moon and the time period corresponding to the Japanese holiday of O-Bon, the festival of the dead, also raise your likelihood of encountering these yokai.
Surviving an Encounter:
To this very day, many a Japanese fisherman refuses to leave port without a bottomless ladle aboard. You would be advised to do the same. Scoop as they may, Funa-yurei won’t be able to lift any water into your boat.
Yokai Trivia:
So why a ladle? It’s a play on words. Inata, a variation on the Japanese word inada (ladle), is slang for fisherman” in some regional dialects.
Funa-yurei do not necessarily appear in boats. Cases of them surfacing from the sea, either individually or en masse, have been reported as well.
Nearly every fishing village in Japan has its own legends of Funa-yurei claiming family, friends, or neighbors. Even today, there are occasional reports of what appear to be brightly glowing boats effortlessly skimming through waters known to be too shallow for any normal vessel to move.
A traditional ladle. Don’t forget to poke holes in the bottom!
Ferocious Fiends: 009
Umi-bozu
Ferocious Fiends: 009
Umi-bozu
海坊主
Pronunciation:
(OO-mee BOH-zoo)
English Name:
Literally, “Sea Monks”; Pelagic Phantoms
Gender:
Unknown
Height:
From 4 in. (10cm) to over 100 ft. (30m)
Weight:
Equivalent to equal mass of seawater
Locomotion:
Wave motion
Distinctive Features:
Domed, jellyfish-like body
Smooth, pitch-black skin
Glowing eyes
Offensive Weapons:
Water
Weaknesses:
None known
Abundance:
Prevalent
Habitat:
Open seas
Claim to Fame:
In spite of the cute-sounding name, the Umi-bozu have long struck terror into the hearts of Japanese mariners. Some say they are the vengeful spirits of drowned sailors; others say they are strange mutations of deep-sea life taking monstrous supernatural form. Whatever the case, the Umi-bozu look nothing like any creature from this world, taking the form of jet-black, dome- or drop-like beings with glowing eyes. It has been suggested that they may actually be composed entirely of water, which would explain the near-total absence of any other distinguishing features. Although many seem to lack mouths, they are often described as issuing an unsettling sighing or moaning sound.
Umi-bozu come in a variety of sizes; the smallest, roughly four inches, are occasionally caught in fishing nets. Perhaps these are the juveniles of the species. Medium-sized Umi-bozu are large enough to menace fishing boats; at their largest and most fearsome, they tower over the surface of the water.
This 1970s Robo-Umi-Bozu model kit is an interesting variation.
The Attack!
Unlike the Funa-yurei, (p. 46), which only appear at night and in coastal waters, the Umi-bozu appears far out to sea and shows itself at any time of the day. It sometimes accompanies (or is accompanied by) strange atmospheric or oceanic phenomena such as storms. Umi-bozu rise from the surface of the ocean; fed by its limitless waters, it is capable of growing in size until it looms over even the largest of ships. It prefers brute-force attacks, attempting to engulf individuals, ships, or even entire fleets, depending on their size.
A woodblock print by Utagawa Kuniyoshi depicting an Umi-bozu
Surviving an Encounter:
This probably goes without saying, but avoid putting out to sea when strange weather is on the horizon. Smaller Umi-bozu respond with cries of pain when hit with poles or oars, meaning it is theoretically possible to injure them. It may be possible to fend off small or medium Umi-bozu with whatever tools are at hand, but a full-sized specimen is another story. If you see one on the horizon, finding a safe harbor is your only hope for survival.
Don’t let your guard down once you’ve reached shallower waters, however, particularly if darkness is falling. If conditions are right for the Umi-bozu far at sea, chances are you may well encounter Funa-yurei on the way back.
Marine Monster Mating?
According to Kanso Jigo (“Speculations on Natural Tales”), an eighteenth-century text composed by historian Norimitsu Yanagihara, smaller and medium-sized Umi-bozu very occasionally appear close to shore. Residents of the town of Izumi in Osaka reported that one remained in some nearby shallows for
