Every year ahead of Obon, Chiomi and Russell Fujii sweep the graves of their father Tommy and his elder brother in a remote graveyard on an island off the tip of far-north Queensland.
Seventy-five years ago, hundreds of Japanese pearl divers were deported from Australia at the end of World War II after being interned as enemy aliens.
It largely ended a then-lucrative industry in Queensland’s Torres Strait and one that claimed the lives of hundreds of seasonal workers.
Tomitaro “Tommy” Fujii is one of the most famous pearl divers of the Torres Strait. He came to Australia in 1925, survived the industry, and was one of those allowed to stay on after the war.
His children are now preserving the legacy of their father and the many other divers like him.
This week, the family - and other descendants - will mark Obon, a Buddhist ceremony honouring the dead, as well as the economic and social contribution of what was once Australia’s largest Japanese community.
An unnamed Japanese pearl diver in the Torres Strait. Source: Supplied
Tommy's grave, which has a headstone in the Torres Strait's regional capital Thursday Island, stands in stark contrast to the hundreds of other Japanese divers who died on the job.
"We take care for them and look after them," Chiomi says.
"And on 15 August we gather here, the Japanese community, and they do this special recital, and they call out most of the names."
Tommy’s brother Tosikuzu died in 1940 after a diving accident at 64 metres.
Japanese diver graves are now marked by new posts funded by Japan. Source: Stefan Armbruster/SBS News
Just as their father did, Chiomi and Russell hope to ensure he and the others are not forgotten.
A history of hard work
Between the 1880s and 1942, about 6,000 Japanese divers worked in the Torres Strait. They were young men mainly from what was then the impoverished Wakayama prefecture in Japan.
They were cheap labour and the divers were allowed to stay in Australia exempted from the White Australia policy.
“It was hard work, hard days, that’s what he [Tommy] said," Russell says.
"It was a dangerous job and small money."
Thursday Island was at the time Australia’s largest Japanese community and is commemorated in the Torres Strait Heritage Museum.
Tommy Fujii's identity card photo. Source: National Archives of Australia NAA
"There’s a lot of Japanese history, war history, pearling history, old families’ history. There’s a wealth of history in the Torres Strait," says museum owner and manager Vanessa Seekee.
Photos of the Japanese community are displayed alongside Aboriginal and Torres Strait and Second World War historical collections. Old diving suits, hand air pumps, pearl shells and newspaper articles can also be seen.
“The Japanese were instrumental here and became very dominant because they were able to dive to great depths. Most luggers had Japanese aboard, but because of that there are hundreds buried here too,” Ms Seekee says.
Apart from their many descendants, the main reminder of the Japanese times in the Torres Strait is the heritage-listed cemetery. About one in every 10 Japanese seasonal workers died.
Pearling luggers in the Torres Strait. Source: National Library of Australia
More than 700 are buried on Thursday Island and an estimated 1,200 died across the islands in the region over the 60-year period.
In the Thursday Island cemetery, most have no headstone, no name, just a white wooden post with the same Sanskrit markings on their graves.
"These are the original posts my father put in," Chiomi says while surveying the white metre-high posts that poke out of the long grass.
"They’ve gone and decayed and we’ve replaced them with this new wood."
Hundreds of new grave markers have been funded by the Japanese government, with workers from the Torres Shire Council installing them.
The divers are key to more than 120 years of formal relations with Australia, with the first Japanese diplomatic mission in Australia set up in Townsville in 1896 to cater for its many citizens further north.
Chiomi, left, with her father Tommy and members of the Japanese community on Thursday Island. Source: Supplied
"The starting point is these shell divers. We can learn a lot from their experiences, the history, how our economic, trade and investment relationship started," Japan’s ambassador to Australia Yamagami Shingo said in an interview with SBS News.
He was planning on travelling up to Thursday Island for Obon, as previous ambassadors have done, but could not due to the current COVID-19 lockdown in Canberra.
'Darkest hours'
Tommy worked on-and-off as a diver for 23 years and was married with children when World War II broke out.
After the bombing of Pearl Harbour in 1942, the federal government ordered Japanese civilians in Australia to be interned.
Japanese people in the Torres Strait were seen as a particular risk over fears they could join the advancing enemy and aid them with specialist knowledge about navigating northern Australian waters. The Torres Strait was, and is, one of the world's most strategically important shipping channels.
As a result, the 359 Japanese nationals in the Torres Strait were interned, sent to mainland camps, and most were deported to Japan in 1946.
"This is a short period but the darkest hours in our bilateral relationship," Mr Yamagami said.
"But I hasten to add, if you take a longer view, we were on the same side in the First World War or even after 1945, so this is a lesson we can learn from each other's experiences."
Tommy was one of only three Japanese internees allowed to return straight after the war because they were married to Torres Strait Islander women.
A statue of Tommy looking out to sea on Thursday Island. Source: Stefan Armbruster/SBS News
Tommy's wife Josphine was from Badu Island and also of Chinese heritage. They were married in 1928.
Tommy returned to diving briefly then became a local entrepreneur, establishing the Rainbow Motel. He became an Australian citizen in 1961 and was the region’s contact point for the Japanese community as well as guardian of the Japanese divers' cemetery.
In the front yard of the family house on Thursday Island is a bust of Tommy with a medal on his chest.
Chiomi remembers the proud moment for her family when her father received a phone call one night.
She says he was a man of few words, and to the family's surprise simply said: "The [Japanese] emperor is going to give me a medal".
Chiomi and Russell Fujii.
"So that’s a medal he got from the emperor for his relationship between the Japanese and Australia. Sort of like an ambassador, all the years."
The siblings have now taken up their father’s role, honouring a contribution largely forgotten in Australian history.
"The younger generation are wanting to know more about their heritage, I think that’s why our Obon day has come up two or three levels now,” Chiomi says.
“It is like bringing the community and the younger generation together to know and find where their heritage is.”
