「船に乗るより潮に乗れ」

Fune ni noru yori shio ni nore

"Instead of riding a ship, ride the tide"

Among a thousand islands, in a separate world of narrow straits, swift currents, and treacherous shores of the Seto Inland Sea—in samurai-era Japan—special rules prevailed. There, the kaizoku held sway—Japanese pirates whose customs and laws formed a unique blend of the freedom of sea peoples, the discipline of the samurai, and the honor of the Murakami clan. These archipelagic "pirates" were no ordinary looters. They were masters of the waves, aquatic samurai whose lives were governed by a code of loyalty, strategy, and survival. Their ships—atakubune and sekibune—were armored and fearsome, surrounded by swarms of small, extraordinarily fast kobaya (小早 – literally “small and swift”), manned by trained crews ready to board at the single cry of Tatakai! Their world was one of tea ceremonies and death-dealing, of composing renka poetry and crafting horoku (a kind of grenade from medieval Japan). And among them was one who rose above all others: Murakami Takeyoshi—the king of the straits, whose name inspired fear from the shores of Kyūshū to the Bizen Straits.

Betrayed as a child and torn from his native island of Noshima after the murder of his grandfather, he grew up in exile inland, in the shadow of the volcanoes of Higo. But he never forgot. He vowed to return once grown—and return he did. Young, determined, with a heart harder than the hulls of his armored ships, he rebuilt the former power. He defeated his rivals, united the scattered Murakami clan, allied himself with Kurushima, and took command of the most disciplined fleet Japan had known in the 16th century. He was no mere pirate—he was a politician, strategist, and commander. And his men—sailors capable of steering a ship by feel alone through the fog and currents of the Seto Sea, reading the moon like a map—formed the greatest naval force in East Asia at the time.

In today’s article, we shall tell not only the life story of Murakami Takeyoshi—from exiled boy to legendary ruler of the straits—but also enter the world of the kaizoku: pirates who were not outcasts, but guardians of sea routes, masters of maneuver, and diplomats clad in samurai armor. We will journey to a time when battles were waged at sea and where, ultimately, two powerful fleets clashed—those of Japan’s greatest pirate and… of none other than the great Oda Nobunaga himself. Let us then discover Murakami Takeyoshi—the last king of the straits—and his kaizoku pirates.

Childhood and Youth in Times of War

The year: 1536. In the capitals of Japan’s provinces, it is not the sound of the imperial bell that echoes, but the clashing of arms. In Kyoto, the imperial throne endures only as a symbol, while the shōgun—once the military ruler of the land—has become a puppet, stripped of real power. Japan has fractured into dozens of warring domains. This is the Sengoku era, an age of multigenerational war, betrayal, sieges, and intrigue. But amid all these land-based dramas, at the confluence of ocean currents and rocky island fragments, another story unfolds—cut off from courtly machinations. The Seto Inland Sea (Seto Naikai)—a realm of thousands of islands and straits that, for some, was an obstacle and labyrinth, but for others—a home.

It is there, on one of the smallest yet most renowned islands of the Geiyo archipelago—Noshima—that a boy is born whose destiny is to become the last king of maritime chaos. His name: Murakami Takeyoshi. But at the time, no one calls him that yet.

The Murakami clan was already known, though their origins were shrouded in legend and tale. Some said they descended from the imperial line itself—from Emperor Murakami, the 62nd emperor of Japan—or from the Minamoto, the most powerful clan of the Heian period. (If you’re not well-versed in the history of Japan’s kaizoku pirates—samurai of the Murakami clan—please also refer to this article: Japanese Pirates of the Murakami Clan: Educated Samurai, Bandits, Entrepreneurs, Poets – Who Were They?). But documents were lacking, and in the Sengoku world, genealogy was more often a political weapon than a factual record. What was certain was this: the Murakami clan was divided into three branches—Noshima, Kurushima, and Innoshima—three lion’s claws gripping the Seto straits. Though they shared a common root, each clan had its own ambitions, alliances, and enemies. Each ruled its islands as though it were a separate maritime feudal domain. And in truth—that’s exactly what it was.

Noshima—“Southern Island”—was the smallest, but also the most powerful. Its port was naturally sheltered by rocks, and the Murakami castle rose like an eagle’s nest above the stormy sea. It was there, in 1536, that a boy was born, first named Dōsojirō—a childhood name he would bear until his genpuku ceremony, the rite of passage into adulthood. He was the son of Murakami Yoshitada, leader of the Noshima branch of the clan, and his mother was a woman from the powerful Hiraka family. Even as a child, he heard the clanking of anchor chains at night, the voices of sailors singing rhythmic rowing songs, and the thunder of storms pounding the cliffs of Noshima like the drums of heavenly warriors.

But Takeyoshi’s childhood was far from peaceful. When he was only a few years old, a tragic event occurred—his grandfather, Murakami Takakatsu, was murdered under mysterious circumstances. Some historians speak of betrayal within the clan, others of an attack by Kurushima or Innoshima. Either way, the boy’s family had to flee Noshima, and young Dōsojirō—still not yet Takeyoshi—was sent into the care of the Kikuchi clan in Higo Province, in the southwestern part of Kyūshū Island.

For a child who knew only the sound of waves and the smell of salt, Kyūshū was another world: mountainous, cool, full of rice fields, Buddhist temples, and ancient families with long histories. The Kikuchi clan had a martial past and strong samurai traditions. There, the boy learned the rules of the samurai code of honor, the art of writing and calligraphy, as well as the use of the sword and yari (spear). There, too, during his genpuku ceremony, he received a new name—Takeyoshi (武吉). His first character—take—means martial strength, the second—yoshi—good fortune and auspiciousness. Perhaps it was in honor of a powerful patron, perhaps a chosen expression of hope that the boy would not only survive, but grow powerful.

For Takeyoshi, the name was not merely an ornament. It was a promise. A vow that he would return to Noshima and reclaim what had been taken from his family—home, power, honor.

When he was in his teens, he looked upon the hills of Higo for the last time, boarded a small, low boat, and set out back across the treacherous straits toward the islands he knew only from stories. He returned not as a boy, but as one shaped by loss, exile, and a dream of reclaiming his rightful place on the map of the sea.

This was the beginning of his legend.

The Road to the Top – The Struggle for Leadership

The sea Takeyoshi knew from his mother’s tales and childhood memories did not welcome him as a son, but as a rival. The Seto Naikai—Japan’s inland sea—was not just a geographical curiosity, but a political labyrinth. Every island, every strait, every quiet bay had its owner and its own history. When Takeyoshi returned to Noshima, nothing was as he had left it. His father was dead, the clan’s position had weakened, and rule over the island had been taken by his cousin Yoshiaki, supported by forces from Kurushima.

But Takeyoshi was no longer a child. He had not returned to beg. He had returned to reclaim power—not only over Noshima but over the entire island world long known as “Murakami.”

The Murakami clan, though related by blood, had always been divided—its three branches (Noshima, Kurushima, Innoshima) frequently competed for influence, especially in the straits where they could collect 帆別銭 (honbetsusen)—fees for the "safe" passage of merchant ships. Formally, these were "marine protection taxes," but in practice, they were a regular tribute, securing protection from the very people who collected it.

It was on this basis—and over the matter of succession after Yoshitada’s death—that conflict erupted. Yoshiaki, an ambitious man backed by part of the clan and merchants from Kurushima, had no intention of yielding to a young “exile.” But Takeyoshi was not alone. At his side stood his uncle Takashige, an experienced commander, and several dozen battle-hardened sailors who believed in the return of Noshima’s glory.

A naval campaign began—one that, to this day, is still told by old men in fishing ports as one of the greatest internal wars of the Murakami clan. The battles were not fought on land, but on water—amid currents, whirlpools, and rocks. It was a theatre of war that demanded not only courage but an intimate knowledge of the sea, as if it were one’s own palm. Takeyoshi’s ships—small, fast kobaya (小早 – literally “small and swift”)—attacked at night, vanishing from sight by dawn. They exploited currents, tides, even false flags. In the Battle of Iwagishima, Takeyoshi executed a cunning maneuver: he sent one of his own atakubune (armored boarding ships) unmanned as bait, and delivered the true strike from the flank—with boats hidden in a cove behind a rock. Yoshiaki had no time to escape.

When his cousin’s forces were finally crushed, and his commanders betrayed by their own men, Takeyoshi entered the fortress on Noshima not as a conqueror, but as the rightful heir. Yet he did not end the war with vengeance. Instead, he forged an alliance with Kurushima, sealing it through a political marriage with the daughter of Murakami Michinobu, the leader of that branch.

Takeyoshi was barely in his twenties, yet had already become the de facto leader of all three Murakami houses—an independent ruler of islands and straits. His name began to be whispered with reverence not only in the ports of Setouchi, but even in the distant palaces of Kyūshū.

The Pirate Life

From the outside, they may have seemed like pirates, but the kaizoku of the Murakami were no lawless bandits. Their world was orderly—defined by a clear hierarchy, rituals, and tradition. Every crew had its captain (bugyō), deputy (yoriki), helmsman (sendō), master-at-arms, and quartermaster. Onboard discipline was built upon trust, experience, and loyalty. Even the menu held meaning—before battle, boiled octopus was served as a symbol of the sea’s favor.

In times of peace, the pirates were guardians of trade. They maintained their own passport system (過所旗 – kakyo-ki), which protected ships that paid the appropriate tribute. When a sail appeared on the horizon bearing the white flag of the Murakami, merchants breathed a sigh of relief—it signaled not an attack, but an escort.

But when the time of war approached—their fleet transformed into a machine of death.

The atakubune (安宅船 – literally “residence ship of security”) were floating battering rams—short, wide, reinforced with metal, powered by dozens of rowers. Their purpose was to approach the enemy and enable boarding: by breaking down bulwarks, throwing up boarding ladders, and piercing shields. They often used curtains made of wet mats to protect against fire and arrows. The tanegashima—matchlock arquebuses acquired from the Portuguese—were also employed.

The sekibune (関船 – literally “patrol ships”) were larger and heavier, with two decks. The upper deck held archers and gunners, the lower—spearmen ready for close combat. These ships rarely operated alone—Takeyoshi’s fleets functioned like a wolf pack: fast boats attacked from the front, heavy ships enclosed the enemy from the sides, and boarding was carried out in total chaos—of noise, smoke, and fire.

Takeyoshi knew every technique. He planned them himself. He was not just a commander—he was a strategist, a master of the sea, and a psychologist of battle. Under his rule, Noshima became a fortress so formidable that its capture seemed impossible.

King of the Straits – Naval Power and System of Rule

When one gazes from the high cliffs of Noshima over the deep blue waters of the Seto straits, one might feel as though the sea is silent. But to Takeyoshi, this was not silence—it was vigilance. The sea was his domain, a living being that rewarded the patient and devoured the reckless. For other daimyō, the land was the source of power. For him—the straits, winds, currents, and islands shaped like the edge of a katana.

At the beginning of his path, he commanded only a few ships. Now—an entire armada. He became the king of the straits, ruler of an archipelago that could not be subdued by land-based administration. In his hands were not just swords, but something more fearsome: maps of the currents, lists of captains, boarding orders, tide charts.

The everyday life of the kaizoku was not that of shipwrecked men or romantic sailors. It was a world of discipline, loyalty, and ritual, and Noshima was not just a base—it was a floating stronghold of reason and order. Every ship had its own taishō (captain), a yoriki (logistics officer), a sendō (helmsman), and a funamochi (quartermaster). Ships entered bays not at random, but in designated formations, following a prearranged sequence. Everyone knew when to fall silent, and when to give a command.

Even rituals had their place—before setting out, offerings were made to the sea gods at the shrine of Ōyamazumi on the island of Ōmishima. There was no kaizoku who did not carry on his person a charm of dried octopus, a stone from the island of Noshima, or a ribbon inscribed with a prayer to the deity of the waves (Ōyamazumi no Kami). It was believed that the octopus, with its eight arms, offered protection from the eight directions of the world—just as Takeyoshi’s fleet extended its arms around all who submitted to his rule.

Evenings were spent not only cleaning weapons, but also—of course—in merrymaking. Yet kaizoku differed from the wakō (more on them here: Wakou – Pirate Freedom, Independence, and Terror on the Seas of Japan, Korea, and China) in that they adhered to samurai etiquette—at least those of noble birth. This meant that just as often, they could be seen in the evenings engaged in intense combat training or reading poetry, writing letters, sharing incense rituals, and meditating. Takeyoshi himself was a lover of renka—linked-verse poetry, which he composed with his officers during long evenings over tea made from dried seaweed and salty sweets.

Military Prowess

Techniques

But behind this calm lay a precise machine of naval warfare. Takeyoshi did not merely command—he designed tactics, knew every type of ship, every ruse, every maneuver.

The atakubune (安宅船)—“secure ships of residence”—were floating fortresses, iron-clad, with low bulwarks, heavy and menacing. They had no sails, for they were not built for long voyages—they were built for combat. Rowed by dozens of men, equipped at the front with a ram and at the sides with assault ladders, they would approach enemy vessels until their sides opened like the jaws of a beast—and boarding was immediate. Thanks to these ships, pirate warriors could engage in direct sea clashes, relying in the final stage on samurai skills—swordsmanship.

And the other secrets? The hidden weapons? Horoku hiya (焙烙火矢)—earthenware pots filled with oil and gunpowder that, once ignited, turned into blazing grenades. They were thrown by catapults or by hand onto enemy decks—one accurate throw could cause panic, fire, and the collapse of formations. More than starting fires, they were used to sow chaos in enemy ranks just before boarding—for it was far easier to strike into disordered foes than into a solidly formed unit.

Tactics

Boarding was an art—a sacred ritual. It was never done haphazardly. Ships approached under the cover of thick curtains made of wet mats, which extinguished flaming arrows and concealed the silhouettes of sailors. A drifting technique called “the floating stone” allowed boats to approach soundlessly with the wind. Tidal currents were also used, capable of carrying the fleet forward without a single oarstroke. Attacks often occurred just before dawn, when senses were dull.

On deck, sailors wielded grappling hooks and ropes, long spears, and knives with curved blades.

The Storm of Betrayals – Takeyoshi Between Alliances

The winds of Seto could change direction in an instant—just like the loyalties of clans fighting for influence in this mosaic of islands, straits, and treacherous currents. For Takeyoshi, politics was like sailing through a storm—it wasn’t about moving straight, but about reaching the destination without sinking.

By the mid-16th century, Murakami Takeyoshi was no longer just the lord of Noshima—he was its legend. Alongside his brothers from Kurushima and Innoshima, he formed the core of an informal kaizoku no renmei—a pirate confederation that held sway over Japan’s entire inland sea. Any ship wishing to sail from Kyūshū to Osaka had to pay not only a toll—but also show respect.

Yet power always draws the attention of the more powerful. Mōri Motonari, an ambitious strategist from western Chūgoku, understood that whoever controlled the straits also controlled the economy and the movement of armies. The Ōtomo clan of Bungo sought access to trade with China and the Namban-jin (Portuguese). The Ōuchi—once powerful merchants and rulers of Yamaguchi—were weakened, but still commanded a fleet. The Miyoshi—a merchant-samurai house from Osaka—cast greedy eyes on the spice, rice, and silver routes. Each of them wanted something. Each of them sometimes sent letters—sealed with promises of friendship, or threats of fire.

Takeyoshi maneuvered among them like an eel among the treacherous whirlpools of Naruto (not the anime—this refers to the narrow strait between Awaji and Shikoku islands). At times, he sent envoys with passports to the Mōri; at others, he arranged for Portuguese Jesuits to travel from Kyūshū on behalf of the Ōtomo. He could deliver armor to one clan while selling information to another. To many, he was just a pirate, but he saw himself differently—as the host of the sea. Umi no tono—the lord of the waters.

At the height of his power, Murakami Takeyoshi controlled maritime traffic from the shores of Higo to Bizen (the equivalent of someone holding all of the southern Baltic—from Bornholm and Rügen to Gdańsk and the Vistula Lagoon), and his ships were spotted even near Tsushima and the Gotō Islands. The Murakami fleet was not homogeneous—alongside the large sekibune, small, fast kobaya sailed, used for reconnaissance, sabotage, and transmitting orders. It was believed that each crew included not only warriors, but also someone who knew the signs of the sea—followers of Ryūjin and other kami of the waves and currents, who offered rituals not in temples, but at the bows of their ships.

But a shadow was looming. Mōri Motonari could not tolerate dependency—especially on the kaizoku. In 1565, the forces of his ally, Kobayakawa Takakage, surrounded Noshima. Instead of a direct assault, they began a blockade—cutting supply lines, severing access to fresh water, destabilizing alliances.

Noshima became a solitary fortress at sea. Day by day, sails bearing the Mōri crest circled in the distance like vultures. Food began to run short in the camps and fortress. Tension mounted. Surrender was being considered. But Takeyoshi stood firm. Every dawn, he would walk onto the rocks, gaze at the waves, and pray to the kami of sea winds to change his fate.

And fate did indeed change. Mōri’s alliances began to unravel. In the west, they had to shift their forces to fight the Amako—forcing them to abandon their ambition of subjugating the Murakami. Noshima endured. And the legend of Takeyoshi—the man who withstood the Mōri—blazed anew. No longer merely a pirate, but an autonomous lord of the Seto Sea. Yet—anyone who reaches for power must be prepared for someone even mightier to eventually appear. And these were the times of Japan’s first unifier—the great Oda Nobunaga…

Clash with Oda Nobunaga

The year was 1576. The sea at the mouth of the Kizu River in Settsu Province thundered with war drums and the pounding of oars. There, where the salty waters of the Pacific met the valley leading straight to the heart of Kyōto, one of the most important naval battles of the era was about to unfold.

Oda Nobunaga, the ambitious ruler from Owari who had earlier burned the sacred Mount Hiei (more on that here: Ikkō-ikki: Buddhist Monks Build Fortresses and Lead Peasants to War Against the Warlords of Sengoku Japan) and defeated central Japan’s clans, resolved to break the power of the Mōri house. But to do that, he had to cut them off from the sea—and the path led through the strategic port of Ishiyama Hongan-ji, a bastion of the militant Ikkō-ikki monks. Defending the fortress stood the Mōri and their allies—including Murakami Takeyoshi himself.

In the first battle at the mouth of the Kizu River, Takeyoshi commanded part of the fleet, which maneuvered with remarkable precision among shoals and whirlpools. He resisted Nobunaga’s formidable forces, destroyed his supply bridges, and forced his army to retreat. The kaizoku fleet—fast kobaya and heavy atakubune—struck in waves, executing swift boardings, hurling burning horoku hiya grenades onto enemy decks, while archers on the sekibune platforms rained arrows before the enemy could reach shore. Takeyoshi wielded his flotilla like a master swordsman with a katana—feinting, luring, encircling. He succeeded in driving Nobunaga’s forces back—for now.

But Nobunaga was not a man to give up what he wanted.

Two years later, in 1578, the storm returned to the Kizu River estuary—but this time Nobunaga introduced a new weapon. At the head of his fleet stood Kuki Yoshitaka, a man who had learned from the previous defeat. The Kuki fleet bore no resemblance to the light, wooden vessels of the Murakami. These were tetsu-bune (鉄船)—“iron ships,” vessels armored with steel plates, built to withstand gunfire and break through any boarding line.

Their weapons—Portuguese matchlock arquebuses and tanegashima (the same, now produced locally in Japan)—fired from upper decks, behind safe “parapets” unreachable by the kaizoku. No horoku hiya could pierce the steel plating; no drifting tactic allowed a silent approach. Murakami tried everything—maneuvers under the morning mist, daring raids against the current—but all in vain. His ships burned. The sekibune were stranded. When the smoke cleared, Kizugawaguchi belonged to Oda.

It was the death of the pirate era. The Kuki ironclads—though not made entirely of iron, but partially armored—marked the beginning of a new age: centralization, massed armies, and the near-industrial organization of power.

The Fall of Power – Hideyoshi’s Decree and the End of Freedom

After the death of Nobunaga in 1582, the reins of power were seized by his former general—Toyotomi Hideyoshi, who came to control nearly all of Japan. In 1588, he issued a famous edict: a ban on all piratical activity in the Inland Sea. Anyone who still claimed the right to independent navigation was to surrender their weapons and ships—or die.

For Takeyoshi, this was the end. His world—built on alliances, slipping between currents, exchanging silver for safety—ceased to exist. Attempts at negotiation, letters written to Kyōto, talks mediated through the Mōri and Kurushima—all proved fruitless. His son was sent to beg for mercy. In return, they were given an order of relocation—forced to leave beloved Noshima and resettle inland, first in Takeda, then in Chōshū (modern-day Yamaguchi Prefecture).

For a man of the sea, it was a slow kind of death. He lived for many more years, but no longer commanded fleets, no longer performed rituals before battle, no longer tasted salt on his lips. He died in 1604, at the age of 68, on the island of Yashiro, overlooking the bay—a reminder that he had once been the king of the straits.

The Last Samurai-Pirate

When Murakami Takeyoshi died in 1604 on the island of Yashiro, there were no cannon salutes, no songs of victory. His passing resembled a quiet shift in the wind—almost imperceptible, yet irreversible. Japan was moving toward unification, and the age of independent sea lords was fading into history. Yet the straits of Seto did not forget his name.

His sons and grandsons remained at the side of the Mōri clan—no longer as independent kaizoku, but as commanders of the escort fleet. Their ships protected trade routes, transported people, weapons, and goods—but no longer under the free banner of Noshima, rather in the service of a more powerful lord. Thus ended the era of Japan’s pirates.

Takeyoshi was not merely a warrior. In his chamber lingered the scent of burning incense; on his shelves stood scrolls of renka poetry; his tea utensils bore motifs of waves and sails. He was a pirate who understood the silence of ceremony. A man who, before battle, could recite verses about wind in the sails and the octopus as a symbol of protection from the eight directions of the world. Alongside courage, he possessed sensitivity.

It is no coincidence that the Portuguese Jesuit Luís Fróis, observing Japanese warfare and politics, called him “the greatest pirate of Japan.” In him, he saw more than the commander of a fleet—he saw a figure from an epic tale, one who combined maritime ferocity with knightly pride.

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"Strong Japanese Women"

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    未開    ソビエライ

 An enthusiast of Asian culture with a deep appreciation for the diverse philosophies of the world. By education, a psychologist and philologist specializing in Korean studies. At heart, a programmer (primarily for Android) and a passionate technology enthusiast, as well as a practitioner of Zen and mono no aware. In moments of tranquility, adheres to a disciplined lifestyle, firmly believing that perseverance, continuous personal growth, and dedication to one's passions are the wisest paths in life. Author of the book "Strong Women of Japan" (>>see more)

Personal motto:

"The most powerful force in the universe is compound interest." - Albert Einstein (probably)

  Mike Soray

   (aka Michał Sobieraj)

未開    ソビエライ

 An enthusiast of Asian culture with a deep appreciation for the diverse philosophies of the world. By education, a psychologist and philologist specializing in Korean studies. At heart, a programmer (primarily for Android) and a passionate technology enthusiast, as well as a practitioner of Zen and mono no aware. In moments of tranquility, adheres to a disciplined lifestyle, firmly believing that perseverance, continuous personal growth, and dedication to one's passions are the wisest paths in life. Author of the book "Strong Women of Japan" (>>see more)

Personal motto:

"The most powerful force in the universe is compound interest." - Albert Einstein (probably)

Mike Soray

(aka Michał Sobieraj)

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