I have a secret to share with you. In the northwest Pacific, on the eastern edge of the vast Asian continent, there is a captivating wildlife treasure little known to few. Even seasoned global travellers are surprised to learn of the wildlife magic of Japan in winter. If you Google the ten best things to see in Japan the top suggestions on the list include the pink floral splendor of the cherry blossoms in spring, the scenic symmetry of snow-capped Mount Fuji, and the tranquil Shinto gardens of Kyoto, as well as less nature inspired attractions such as the glitz of Tokyo’s Ginza shopping district, the Geisha culture of night time Kyoto, the spectacle of colliding sumo wrestlers and sword wheeling samurai, and the odoriferous experience of the Tokyo fish market. Not a single wild beating heart is featured anywhere on the list, yet the winter wildlife of Japan is one of the country’s outstanding uncelebrated wonders.
Until a few years ago, there were just four wildlife hotspots I would commonly recommend to any photographer who was as addicted to wildlife as I am. These included the Serengeti Plains of East Africa, the Island of South Georgia in Antarctica, the Svalbard Archipelago in Arctic Norway, and the fabled Galapagos Islands off the western coast of South America. Now, after leading the Japan wildlife trip for the past two winters, I have added it to the list as a must do for any wildlife photography enthusiast.
Of the four large islands that comprise 90% of the Japanese Archipelago, Hokkaido is the most northern of the group and is celebrated as Japan’s wildest island. For nearly three decades Van Os Photo Safaris has introduced photographers to the outstanding winter wildlife of Hokkaido focusing on the three national parks that occur in the island’s eastern third. The three parks include the rich marshlands of Kushiro Shitsugen, the spectacular caldera lakes of Akan-Mashū, and the forested mountain ridges of Shiretoko. On this portion of the tour we had four extraordinary wildlife photo targets: the spectacular winter aggregations of dancing red-crowned cranes, the noisy flocks of migratory whooper swans, and the great congregations of white-tailed and Steller’s sea eagles.
The trip began in Tokyo with an elegant five-course Japanese dinner that was a delight to the eye as well as the palette. The next morning our small group of ten flew north to Hokkaido. The first species on our list was the stately red-crowned crane, one of the largest and heaviest of the 15 species of cranes in the world. In Japan, the stylish 5-foot-tall crane is a national treasure and a symbol of longevity and good fortune. On the tour we spent time at three different areas where the cranes gathered during the day. Like all cranes, the red-crowned crane typically forms a lifelong partnership with its mate. What made these long-legged avian beauties such a delight to photograph was their tendency to leap about with outstretched wings in beautifully choreographed dancing routines. This distinctive dancing behavior is thought to reinforce the pair bond as well as display excitement. During our two days tracking the cranes we had fresh snow cloaking the ground and a range of different lighting conditions. For me, the strong backlight we enjoyed during two early mornings added an elegance and ethereal quality to the the enchanting performances of the dancing cranes.
After our days with the cranes, we moved north a short distance to Lake Kussharo, the largest caldera lake in Japan. Each winter hundreds of whooper swans fly south to Hokkaido from their summer nesting grounds in the boreal wetlands of the Russian taiga. Hot volcanic springs keep the subarctic waters along the edges of the lake from freezing completely, providing the swans with an ice-free refuge where there is abundant aquatic algae for them to eat. Like all swans, whoopers pair for life and this winter their courtship behaviors and squabbles with neighbours made for some exciting photo opportunities. Once again, as happened earlier with the cranes, we had variable lighting conditions to artistically challenge us. There was pelting snow with strong waves that buffeted the birds, interspersed with shafts of sunlight that spotlighted their angelic white plumage. This past winter the swans interacted much more than they had the year before which yielded a much richer array of behaviors that we were able to chronicle and enjoy. Lake Kussharo is known as “Japan’s Loch Ness”, after multiple visitors reported seeing a strange monster on the lake. It’s unknown whether such dubious sightings were associated with the ingestion of copious amounts of saki. Nonetheless, the tourism industry was quick to nickname the mythical beast Kusshii, and stocking local souvenir shops with flush green dragons.
While we were in the area with the swans we also had several picturesque landscape locations upon which to train our cameras. From the summit of Bihoro Pass at an elevation of 1,722 feet we got a spectacular view of Lake Kussharo and the Shiretoko Mountains. It had snowed heavily the night before and the stunted trees were draped in mantles of icy snow making for beautiful imagery. My favorite landscape images, however, came from our side trip to Lake Mashū. The leafless birch trees surrounding the caldera lake were bejewelled in hoarfrost something that only occurs when freezing temperatures combine with heavily moistened air. It was not only a dazzling delight to photograph but a new winter phenomenon for many of my fellow travellers to experience.
After the angelic beauty of the whooper swans, we moved to Shiretoko National Park in the northeastern corner of Hokkaido. En route we explored the Notsuke Peninsula, the longest sandspit in the country, that arches out into the cold current of Nemuro Strait. During our time in the Shiretoko area we explored the peninsula on several additional occasions because of its wildlife richness. During our multiple visits we photographed bachelor herds of majestic antlered sika stags grazing on the tall golden grasses and young rivals with their antlers locked together pushing and shoving to evaluate their status for breeding seasons yet to come. More than the handsome deer, it was the local subspecies of red fox, known as the ezo fox, that we most wanted to capture with our cameras and lady luck was on our side. One afternoon, when the winds were light and the cloud cover broken, we finally found a fluffy-tailed vixen that gave us innumerable photo opportunities, amply rewarding our dogged persistence.
We travelled to the Shiretoko area primarily for the opportunity to photograph at close range the aggregations of two of the world’s most regal birds of prey, Steller’s sea eagle, the heaviest eagle in the world, and its smaller cousin the magnificent white-tailed eagle. On the tour, we were based in the small fishing village of Rausu. From there we made two memorable morning trips out to photograph the eagles. Each outing lasted roughly two hours. Normally, the boats would make a short trip offshore to reach the ice edge where the eagles would normally gather, waiting for the fishermen to toss them frozen herring. But this winter was during a La Nina year, and warmer than usual, and there was no sea ice anywhere around Hokkaido. As a result, the photo opportunities were different from those in the past, but I liked them even more. Under beautiful bright blue skies, we got stunning images of both species of eagle deftly plucking fish from the ocean surface. Most participants shot thousands of images, and no one could believe how exciting such raptor photography could get.
With our Hokkaido success behind us we returned to Tokyo, where we boarded our private bus for the four-hour journey north into the Japanese Alps and Jigokudani, the “Valley of Hell,” so called because of the many volcanic hot springs, which attract dozens of Japanese macaques from the surrounding snow-covered mountains. The monkeys come to the valley to bathe in the 106F degree water. It is believed this tradition started in the 1960s after a dominant female macaque saw humans in the heated waters and mimicked the behaviour. In 2022, author Mark Brazil wrote in his book Japan: The Natural History of an Asian Archipelago “the female macaque’s name was Tokiwa and her bathing habits spread to many of the animals in her troop, and to other troops that shared her unusual valley. Nowhere else in Japan do wild monkeys soak in hot water. At Jigokudani, the monkeys have become globally famous for indulging in their spa treatments, but in fact they are drawn down into the valley by the provision of food, given so that researchers may study their social behaviour. The macaques spend just part of each winter’s day in the narrow valley close to a pool that was built specifically for them.”
On our trip, some of the most enthusiastic among us spent 19 ½ hours with the monkeys, more than any other photo tour operator offers. Everyone saw endearing behaviour of every description. It was an experience like no other. This year there seemed to be more youngsters than during my previous winter trip and their playful interactions made for some exciting new photography.
The trouble-free bus ride back to Tokyo and the delicious Japanese farewell banquet brought an end to a highly successful wildlife tour and one that none of us will ever forget.
