Training is a “Beach”

I’ve been told that some people would be interested in learning more about the way I was taught the martial arts, and my experiences over the years visiting other schools and trying other styles. For those people who share this interest, here goes one story.

I would say that over fifty percent of my training, especially in my teen years, was spent at the beach.

Now for those of you who do not live in the San Francisco Bay Area, this may sound lovely, but its not. Our beaches are cold, and the water is freezing. There are only a few days each year that people go there to actually sun themselves, and even fewer days when people actually frolic in the water--except for little kids and dogs, which the temperature of the freezing water never seems to bother.

Fishermen, dog walkers, diehard romantics, and joggers who are able to withstand the fog, heavy mist, and unceasing winds, as well as the surfers who wear protective wetsuits are mainly the people you will find populating our local beaches on any given day.

Of course if the freezing temperatures aren’t enough to keep one away, there are always the deadly undertows, and the occasional shark attack to consider.

Oh did I happen fail to mention the sewage pipe that empties into the ocean not more than a few hundred yards out from shore? Yes the stuff expelled is “treated,” but it’s a nasty thought, and one that’s hard to overcome, especially when that unidentified brownish sticky foam washes ashore.

Clearly our local beaches are not paradise, but for some reason my teacher had affection for them, and even in his eighties never missed his daily walk along the shore. For him, the beach was the place he could contemplate his life, as well as find the inner peace to meditate without distraction.

It was also the place he elected to use as a training ground, since he felt the sand was a safer place to take falls than the concrete in his garage. I thank him for this, since this one of the few “safety” precautions he actually took when training his son and I. After all, he didn’t seem to have any apprehensions about us swinging live blades (swords, spears, or knives) at each other.

Training at the beach could take place in the morning or after school. After school wasn’t so bad, but mornings could be terrible: not just because it was even colder, but also because there was no time to shower and get cleaned up before going to school. That meant one had to spend the day full of sand, sometimes in wet clothes, and with that salty feeling on your skin. Yuck!

To say I trained on the beach, in the sand, is only half the story. I spent almost as much time in and under the water. Freezing water that made our limbs go numb, and drained our energy.

If that wasn’t bad enough, there were many times that while I was in the water I had to wear weighted vests, leggings or backpacks that were meant to simulate samurai armor. These could weigh sixty pounds or more, and once you fell down were not buoyant. Actually they made you sink like a rock.

Of course the whole lesson was how to swim with the extra weight, and how to control one’s breathing. I think at one point I could hold my breath for over four minutes, though that was not the objective, just a bonus--a life saving bonus, especially when you had to wait for assistance while lying helpless face down under the water.

If swimming with wannabe simulated armor wasn’t hard enough, there were many times one had to hold a weapon in his hands. A weapon one wasn’t allowed to let slip under the surface of the water.

I believe the term for these swimming arts is called suieijutsu, which basically translates to combative water skills. However the more exact name for these techniques may be oyogijutsu (refers to swimming in armor) and/or katchu gozen oyogi (refers to swimming in heavy armor).

For example:
“Kobori ryu was used in the province of Higo, and specialized in methods of crossing rapid streams. The "Tosui" aspect of Kobori ryu involves a circular leg movement technique that allows the proponent to tread water while keeping their upper body above water (while wearing armor). This enabled the Higo bushi, if necessary, to fight with swords, fire arrows (termed tachi oyogi shageki), and fire muskets while positioned in or while crossing a river. Kobori ryu is sometimes referred to as Katchu Gozen Oyogi, or, swimming in armor while in the presence of highly ranked officials or nobility, because it was this tradition that was selected to demonstrate suijutsu to certain officials based upon its established reputation as a refined and graceful art.”
By Nathan Scott – “Kobori Ryu Tosuijutsu”


Now before the e-mails come pouring in, I fully realize this is a very rare martial art, and I don’t claim to know it. I certainly don’t teach it, and I haven’t practiced any of it since my early twenties.

I also won’t make any claims concerning the skill level of my teacher in regards to these techniques, since he didn’t own any Japanese armor he could swim in, and I haven’t ever seen a demonstration perform by someone known to be knowledgeable in the art.

In other words I have nothing to compare what my teacher did or taught, to those techniques developed and passed on in schools such as Iwakura Ryu (specialized in combat while swimming), Kankai Ryu (specialized in swimming in the open sea), Shinden Ryu (specialized in long distance swimming), or Suifu Ryu (specialized in techniques designed to cross swift running streams) all schools reputed to have preserved samurai swimming traditions.

However, with my disclaimer stated, my teacher weighed about 100 pounds, and would use almost 60 - 75 pounds of weight to demonstrate what he wanted us to do. He made it look easy. Its not!

In addition, he was still practicing his various swimming techniques in his seventies. I have a hard enough time swimming a mile three times a week nowadays, and I’m only in my forties. And I do my laps in a heated pool, without wearing weights.

For those of you still yearning to send me e-mails on this topic, I’m will fully concede that there are most likely major differences between what I learned and what the schools listed above teach. Once again I don’t claim any affiliation or technical knowledge related to the above listed schools.

One major difference I can think of immediately is that weighted vests, backpacks, and leggings, can’t compared to a suit of traditional samurai armor. First the weight distribution of a suit of armor is different. Secondly to say one knows how to swim in armor, one must have at some point actually swam in armor. Something I have never done.

Nonetheless, given our financial resources at the time weighted vests and other weighted materials was the best we could do.

Naturally swimming techniques were just a small part of what we practiced. A lot more time was spent practicing various projections. This was done in the dry sand, the wet sand, and in the water.

Falling in the water is a strange feeling, but rarely hurts. It’s actually harder to do the projection than take the projection. Stability is really affected. In many ways being thrown in the water is fun, and often practicing there would end up being more of a game than actual training--much to the chagrin of my teacher I’m sure.

Falling in dry sand means sand gets everywhere, but unless you take a bad fall there is enough cushion to normally keep you from getting hurt. Stability is a little better than in the water, but there are times you tend to lose your footing. Of course learning to maintain your posture and balance in terrain that is not level or firm is part of the lesson. After all, you can’t always choose where you might have to defend yourself.

The worst of the three is taking falls on wet sand. Falling on wet sand is great when things go well, however it will cut you like a knife when you fall wrong. I mean it will literally split you open. I know this from first-hand experience. The good news though is that due to the danger, you learn to do things properly very quickly.

Stability is of course is still an issue in the wet sand, but the cool thing is that once a projection is over you can see exactly how one would be damaged if the projection had been done for real. Just picture the outline imbedded in the sand, and you can see how the neck is torque, or how the base of the spine makes contact with the ground. It’s actually very interesting, and a great learning tool.

Several years ago I hosted a beach training day, for those students who were interested in seeing how I was trained. Okay it was an excuse to have a barbeque. Sue me.

However, we did actually train and I did demonstrate several projections in the wet sand. Projections one can’t practice in the dojo, at least not safely.

All the projections I demonstrated were specifically designed to snap the attacker’s neck, and when examining the outline in the wet sand it was clear exactly how the head and shoulder hit the ground. If my uke (person who receives the technique) hadn’t sunk into the wet sand as he did on impact he clearly would have needed an ambulance or a hearse. To my uke’s credit, all he needed in the end were a few Advil and a thorough neck massage.

Our day of training at the beach surely brought back a lot of memories for me. Some good, some bad, and several that were extremely painful.

While I definitely suffer from “selective” memory syndrome, one thing I can remember the most is how we would always attract spectators.

The funniest group was a bus full of Japanese tourists who must have spent a half an hour or more watching us practice and taking pictures of us doing various techniques. I would love to know what they thought about us that day, and what they told their friends when they showed them the pictures back in Japan.

Then of course there were always the younger children who would always have mixed reactions. Some would just stare in awe, but there certainly were others who couldn’t get past the fact we guys were wearing what appeared to be skirts (hakama). Of all the questions kids will ask, and they always had a lot of them, I think our clothing was always on the top of their list.

Of course practicing outside in front of the public has its share of problems. The main one being that it leaves one open for confrontations and challenges, and we had our share of those also. Unfortunately not just from vagrants who were either drunk or just in a fighting mood, but sometimes from young adults who trained in other martial art styles and thought what we were doing wasn’t “real” or effective.

In most cases these people were ignored, or we just moved to another part of the beach. However, there were a few times I witnessed my teacher in action. In those cases it was a matter of blink and you’ll miss it, but he never lost, never was hurt, and he never seriously hurt anyone else. He just made his point that we were to be left alone, and that it was time to take your attitude somewhere else.

Okay, he may have seriously injured some egos. After all, losing a fight to frail man in his 70’s has to screw with you mind, and your manhood. I know from my own experience that when I was in my late teens it frustrated the hell out of me how easily he could beat me. I came close to winning on a few occasions, but it seemed just as victory was mine, it was snatched away from me. Of course giving your opponent a false sense of victory, or a perceived point of attack is part of the aiki arts.

To be honest, seeing someone who preaches never to fight really fighting screws with your mind. However, it does teach one that sometimes violence can’t be avoided no matter how much you try. It also teaches you that you don’t have to beat the crap out of someone to prove you’re the better man, and make your point clear.

For the most part spectators where polite, and just inquisitive about what we were doing and where the art was from. I know my teacher hated the distraction, but he tolerated their intrusions with patience he never afforded us. I guess he realized we were in a public place, and that these occurrences were part of being in public.

Of course there were those who asked if he would teach them, and even though many of these people would visit us often, he would never take them on as fulltime students. I guess one gaijin (outside person/foreigner) in his life was enough for him to deal with.

In any case, few ever lasted for more than a couple of training sessions. If I haven’t made it clear by now, beach training was rough, very vigorous, and hard on the body.

While the techniques taught at the beach weren’t very different than the ones we did while training at my teacher’s house, the wide-open space and natural obstacles added a certain amount of realism to what we were learning. It is a type of realism that can only be learned once practitioners step out of the dojo (school) and into the real world--a real world with out padded floors, and leveled surfaces.

What I mean by that last statement is that when we practiced at the beach we had to be aware of our surroundings. We had to watch our footing, where we placed our steps, and how we shifted our weight.

Sometimes you would fall, unexpectedly, but have to keep fighting or get killed in mock battle. The technique you were doing had to be completed and/or adjusted based on your position whether standing, falling, or prone on the ground. This forced you to learn to keep fighting no matter what the circumstances were.

You also had to learn to use your surroundings to your best advantage. Force your opponent to step into a hole, take the high ground, use an obstacle for defense, or retreat until the other guy is too tired to chase and then turn and cut him down. These are all things one can only learn when practicing in a real world environment.

When falling, we had to watch for rocks and glass, as well as pieces of wood that would wash up onto shore. Falling on those objects hurt, but you quickly learned that in a real altercation you have to overlook the pain and keep on going.

More importantly we had to watch for other people, who for some reason would tend to walk right by us, instead of walking around us. This of course also teaches awareness, since in the real world any passerby could be a potential threat.

Finally, training at the beach teaches one how to use improvised weapons. Rocks, sand, sticks, or any other objects in reach have the potential to be used both offensively and defensively--by you or your opponent. It’s all about seizing the moment, trusting your gut instinct, and learning not over analyzing every decision.

Reminiscing about my days training on the beach brings back a myriad of emotions. Everything one can think of from borderline hypothermia to sunburns. From ingesting imponderable amounts of salt water and sand that should have made me ill to vomiting my guts out from over exertion. From the all the pain of strains, bumps, bruises, and pulled muscles to all the laughter and camaraderie when things went wrong but were oh so funny, one thing is clear; I wouldn’t have changed a thing.

Clearly, training at the beach is not for everyone, nor would I recommend it for every martial art practitioner. The truth is I rarely if ever go there anymore to practice myself. However, when I walk along the beach, whether with the family or just my dog, I still can picture a young man cutting at waves with his sword, thrusting at the dunes with a spear, and feinting death in simulated battles.

And on some special days, when I’m caught in retrospection as I walk the shore, I can see an old spear wielding man strolling the beach, who on occasion stops to scan the horizon and ponder life’s mysteries and his very existence.