The Trip to Eerie Battleship Island: a ghost town in the middle of the ocean

easy to see why the place is nicknamed "Battleship Island"

Battleship Island (aka Hashima Island or Gunkanjima, which literally means "battleship island") is a tiny dot of land off of Nagasaki that used to be the world's most densely populated place. It is only 400 metres long and 200 metres wide but at its peak housed more than 5000 people. It managed this by being the place where the world's first high-rise, concrete buildings were built, in 1916.

The buildings were last occupied in 1974 and since then everything has been left to crumble and rot. The 5000 people who lived there moved out in one fell swoop, even leaving some of their belongings behind. It's so creepy and eerie that it was used as Javier Bardem's island lair in James Bond's "Skyfall". 

The island is a UNESCO site, not only because of the uniqueness of the island's human history and its crumbling architecture but also because of what happened here. For many people it was a hell on earth.

Coal was discovered on the island in 1810. The Mitsubishi Corporation took it over in the late 19th Century and really put coal mining to work for the economic productivity of Japan. The company gradually mined it of coal, eventually digging down 100 meters below sea level, all of it dug by human hand. In summer it was over 30 degrees Celsius, and in winter it was vile with cold winds and high seas. By the 1950s it took two hours for the men to even arrive at the underwater coalface to start their mining day. A lot of the miners were forced labour prisoners from Korea and China, a fact not mentioned in the literature or on the tour we had, despite promises made to UNESCO as a condition of its designation. 

It was too small a target to be bombed, so survived air raids during World War II, although there were drills. 

The Japanese miners were allowed to being their families, and by the 1960s there was a school high-rise with elementary students on the lower floors, middle-school higher up, and high school at the top, along with a gymnasium building attached. 

the trestles that used to hold the coal conveyor belt can
still be seen, with the school and gymnasium behind

The mine was so successful that the company added land to the island and essentially built a vertical town from the head of the mine shaft. In doing so it created many architectural features we see in high-rise apartment complexes: bridges between buildings at multiple levels, stairs and tunnels designed to move thousands of people around a small area easily, concrete streets and criss-crossing stairwells, small communal living spaces, level swimming pools and fitness facilities. The PTA fought for soil to be brought in and green rooves planted, with trees, flowers and vegetables to break up the monotony of grey cement. 

The island also contained community necessities such as a grocery store, hospital, a playground, bathing pools and a large open-air swimming pool. 

lane markers still seen in the 25 metre pool

Garbage and sewage was dumped in the sea and so the hospital was a welcome addition. People were crammed in, with several families sharing space, small stoves and communal toilets. It was a company town set on the rock in one of the most inhospitable stretches of oceans, frequently visited by typhoons.

Although bad weather was a frequent visitor, so too were ferries. 5000 people on an island supported 12 ferries a day from Nagasaki, bringing passengers and supplies. The Japanese workers were paid well and so had money to spare. Hence the island was a target for people making a buck. Not so much a gold rush as a coal rush.

The mine operating continuously until 1974. It was decommissioned by the Japanese government who foresaw the end of coal and wished the economy to move to petroleum-based energy, and so coal mining companies, such as Mitsubishi, were incentivized to shut down their operations. No only did they have to shut down, they had to destroy the coal mining capability in order to receive the financial reward. Despite Mitsubishi doing the bare minimum to achieve this, very little of the mine buildings remain today. Most of it is rubble. The buildings that do remain are the rotting remnants of the high rise (up to 10 storeys) apartment.

Japan's first cement highrise - its 7 floors housed
an incredible 140 families in tight quarters

all that's left of the shrine is that tiny little
shed up in the sky

the brick office building and the stairs to the main mine shaft

tourists much more cheerful about heading into a dark
tunnel than the previous inhabitants

blocks, school and hospital.

Birds have taken over the island and have gradually excreted and
dropped seeds that Mother Nature has grown

The boat to Hashima Island cannot go in bad weather. Sometimes it can go but not land. When the island was designated as a world heritage site by UNESCO, a small dock was built and a path along the edge of the island was cleared of rubble so that tourists could visit without injuring themselves.

We tried to book a trip on Sunday (knowing Saturday was going to be a terribly rainy and windy day so we didn't even try) but it was impossible as sailing were either cancelled or people were being bumped by tour groups who had had their sailings cancelled. However Buddha shone down on us as we looked at the weather forecast and saw that Monday was meant to be sunny with no wind. We moved our Hiroshima Shinkansen train ticket to the afternoon from the morning and spent a calm, sunny, glorious morning making it to Hashima, the most westerly and southerly part of our trip. 
But even on a sunny day with blue skies it was easy to imagine the appalling conditions of those that chose, and did not choose, to live and work here.