The following is Part 2 of a 6-part series about my trip to the islands of Ulleung-Do (울릉도) and Dok-Do (독도) from 20(Fri)-22(Sun) August 2010. In this installment, I discuss Dok-Do, which we visited ever so briefly after arriving in Ulleung-Do on the afternoon of day 1 . Please see related posts (Part 1: Ulleung-D0; Part 3: Sundown; Part 4: Naribunji; Part 5: Over the Mountain and Through the Fields; Part 6: Why) for additional photos and comments.
I wouldn't want to use this blog as a forum for anything other than camping, so I won't discuss the many and varied geopolitical issues concerning this seemingly insignificant land cluster comprised of two small islets and a scattering of rocky outcroppings along Korea's eastern coast--although by calling them "Dok-Do," and by calling this post "Dok-Do Is Our Land--Don't Fuck With It," a paraphrased translation of a patriotic song title (minus the fucking part), I suppose I've taken a stance. But here's the purely geographical portion of the dispute in a single sentence: officially called the Liancourt Rocks by the international community (to the extent that the international community is even aware of their existence), these islets, located midway between Korea and Japan in the East Sea/Sea of Japan (another can of worms that I decline to open here), have been the subject of territorial controversy for centuries but are currently held and guarded and called "Dok-Do" by the Republic of Korea, while Japan also lays claim and calls them "Takeshima."
Seo-Do (서도) (west islet) (top left), Dong-Do (동도) (east islet)
From Wikipedia's entry on Liancourt Rocks
Seo-Do (left) and Dong-Do
The inscription on the stone sculpture, located on the Dong-Do pier,
translates to "The Eastern End of the Republic of Korea's Territory"
The journey to Dok-Do requires, on a good day, in addition to the 3-hour boat trip to Ulleung-Do from the mainland, a 1.5-hour trip to Dok-Do at an additional cost of 50,000 won per person roundtrip. And on a bad day, with rough waters, the total travel time can take as long as 7 hours, sometimes ending in abort-mission after a few distant loops around Dok-Do because the high waves prevent the boat from approaching the dock. Fortunately for us, it was a good day. In the past, reportedly, before the high-tech hydrofoil-like vessels now in use, a one-way trip from the mainland used to take over 10 hours, on a good day.
The Seaflower
From left: Soupy, Sunkist, Suki, Garlic
(BC members
have none of the typical Korean's qualms
about sitting or even sleeping on the floor;
as a bonus, we were the first ones off the boat)
It's a mecca for Koreans, who consider the act of stepping on Dok-Do a symbol of patriotism. And the experience really is little more than a symbolic gesture. Once the boat docks on the east islet and the doors open, the clocks starts ticking: 20 minutes. Seriously. If you're the last person off the boat, and it took 10 minutes to get off, you've got 10 minutes left. For whatever portion of 20 minutes remains, you're allowed to stroll around the pier, maybe a few hundred square meters of real estate. Seriously. Guards are stationed at various points to prevent wandering. It's a photo op, but only from certain angles. Seriously. Guards will stop you from taking shots of certain things, like the base of the pier or the generator or presumably whatever else might be the target of mischief. Like I said, it takes a patriot to put in the time and money.
Aerial view
Reverse angle
360-degree perspective of the pier
The off-limits lookout station,
with the part of the pier,
visible on the bottom left,
attached to the base of Dong-Do
Seo-Do
A string of rock formations between the two islets
(they look cooler in person, believe me)
A birds-eye view from the lookout station
(this and other photos taken from perspectives other than the pier
were not shot by me or anyone in my party
but unscrupulously lifted from various internet sources)
Patriotism in my own way
Patriots abound. On our trip, in addition to what I would imagine is the typical collection of Korean weekenders, the boat was all giddy with a contingent of perhaps 100 college students comprised of ethnic Koreans from Japan and their local hosts. With respect to our group, Sunkist limited eligibility for signing up to the senior members, anticipating an overwhelming response from the entire community. Later, upon returning to Seoul, in the taxi going home, the driver just happened to be watching a documentary on his mini-TV (yes, drivers in Korea watch TV while they're driving) about a team of 5 civilians who, with the government's sponsorship, rowed--rowed, by hand--a boat from the Port of Incheon (인천) on the northwestern coast of the peninsula to Dok-Do. 74 days. The team was allowed beyond the pier and up the walkway to the lookout station. For my part, I wore a cap sporting the national baseball team's "K" logo (for "Korea," I would hope).
Reflections of "K"
20 BC patriots
(I'm taking a photo of Sunkist, below, while he takes the photo above)
Our founder
TO BE CONTINUED ...
I'm obviously not as close to the dok-do argument as you are in Korea. I've heard the Dok-do nun woo ri ddang song a bunch of times on TV.
ReplyDeleteQuite frankly, I don't really understand it. I realize that there was a time in history when territories were highly important so as a result of whoever "owns" dok-do, that country's sea-space becomes extended out to dok-do. So fine, it was important back when countries (e.g. Japan) were out trying to take over countries and extend their territory.
But today? Does it actually hold any geopolitical significance? It seems to me that it's just one of those things where Korean people don't want to lose it because it's theirs right now. Rather than any practical purpose, it's simply a matter of pride...
But that's obviously a far digression from the focus of this post.
The last picture showing the camera does explain a lot about the quality of the picture. If that canon was used to take most of these shots, no wonder why they're pretty good. A 1-series Canon is no joke...