In this series of articles, I am attempting to translate and contextualise the dōka of Hasegawa Eishin-ryū. All articles in this series can be found here. This article covers the tanka for the sixth technique, Iwanami.
Roppon-me: Iwanami
Boat Navigating Rocks in Izu Province, by Hokkei
Iwanami is the sixth technique in Hasegawa Eishin-ryū. As with the previous two waza, it differs slightly between Musō Jikiden Eishin-ryū and Musō Shinden-ryū. Again, however, the basics of the technique remain largely similar. Once more, I will cover the technique as it appears in both Jikiden and Shinden.
Iwanami (岩波 or 岩浪) literally means ‘rock wave.’ It refers to a wave that swells and breaks against rocks, and is a fairly common image in Japanese poetry. These waves are often depicted as being powerful or fast-moving, and caused by a strong current in a river. In the Eishin-ryū tanka, the image of one of these waves striking a boat is used to express overwhelming speed and power.
Below is the waza as it appears in Musō Shinden-ryū.
As the reasoning behind the waza again varies slightly between Jikiden and Shinden, I will introduce a version of the waza for both schools. My description of the Shinden waza is adapted from the Japanese edition of Musō Shinden-ryū Iaidō by Shigeyoshi Yamatsuta (Airyūdō, 2002).
Muso Jikiden Eishin-ryu:
The practitioner is sat to the right of an opponent. Both are facing the same direction. The opponent begins to threaten (for example, by moving to draw his sword).* The practitioner lifts his hips, steps straight back and draws his sword at the same time. He steps back in and turns to face the opponent while bringing the sword alongside his right leg, the tip pointing at the opponent and with the left hand supporting the blade. Dropping down to a kneeling position, the practitioner stabs the opponent in the chest. He then steps out to the side and drags them to the floor in a similar manner to Oroshi. The opponent is finished with a deep kirioroshi to their back.
* An alternative interpretation of this waza is that the practitioner is assassinating the opponent, and is in fact the one who initiates the attack.
Muso Shinden-ryu:
The practitioner is sitting to the right of his opponent, very close. The opponent moves to either control the practitioner’s tsuka or draw his own sword, and turns towards the practitioner. The practitioner takes a large step back (only slightly raising his hips), pulling the saya off the sword and resting the sword tip on the fingers of the left hand, still at his left hip. The practitioner turns 90 degrees to face the opponent, while turning the sword over and bringing it across the body so that the tip points at the opponent. With the left hand supporting the back of the blade, he stabs the opponent in the chest. Pulling the sword out again, he places the blade on the opponent’s back and pulls him down in the same manner as in Oroshi. Bringing the sword into jōdan, he finishes the opponent with a deep cut to their back.
The tanka for Iwanami describes this waza in terms of the speed and power of a wave striking a boat.
岩浪
行く舟の梶とりなほす間もなきは
いわほの波の強くあたれば
Iwanami
Yuku fune no
Kaji torinaosu
Ma mo naki wa
Iwao no nami no
Tsuyoku atareba
When the boat is struck
Powerfully by a wave
Crashing on the rocks
There is no time in which to
Steer the vessel to safety
In the tanka above, we can see that the iwanami strikes a boat with such speed and force that it is is overwhelmed before the steersman can compensate and change course. This clearly describes the opponent being unable to react fast enough to respond to the practitioner’s attack, and subsequently being dragged to the floor.
The tanka contains several images that are worth exploring. The first of these is yuku fune no (行く船の), which is a “pillow word” – an epithet occuring in Japanese poetry. It describes a boat travelling along, and expresses progress or passage. In the case of this tanka the moving boat seems to be a metaphor for the opponent sitting alongside the practitioner. His “passage” in this case could perhaps be interpreted as his movement, or simply his continued existence.
Another important image in the tanka is kaji torinaosu (梶取りなほす). Kaji, usually written as 舵, refers to the rudder of a boat in modern Japanese. Originally, the word usually referred to oars used to paddle a boat. From the middle ages onwards however, the word’s second meaning, ‘rudder,’ became prominent. Kaji tori refers either to rowing or steering a boat: in this case, its combination with the word naosu and relationship with the epithet yuku fune no suggest correction of the boat’s course. The form torinaosu also, however, implies taking hold of or shifting one’s grip upon the tiller or oar. This might possibly be interpreted as a metaphor for grasping one’s sword.
Ma mo naki (間も無き) is a very important element of the tanka. This phrase has several meanings, but the one I feel is relevant here is as above, “no time/opportunity/opening to…”. This is the element of the tanka that describes the speed with which the thrust of the sword must be made.
The phrase used to indicate the wave crashing on a rock in this tanka is iwao no nami (いわほの波). This is essentially the same as iwanami, although iwao implies a much larger, towering and imposing rock than iwa. This may or may not be significant, but it does suggest a particularly imposing dignity and commanding presence (堂々). Much of the imagery that appears in the Eishin-ryū tanka conveys a similar feeling.
Let us take a brief look at the use of iwanami in other poems and literature.
A famous tanka featuring iwanami is the following love poem from the Kokin Wakashū (471), written in the Heian period by Ki no Tsurayuki (紀貫之), author of the Tosa Nikki:
吉野川岩波高く行く水の
はやくぞ人を思ひそめてし
Yoshinogawa
Iwanami takaku
Yuku mizu no
Hayaku zo hito o
Omoisometeshi
Yoshino River
Rushes quickly around rocks
And waves billow up;
My thoughts turn to you as fast
As the river’s rapids flow
Here we can see the rapid flow of the river creating waves that crash against the rocks. In this case, the waves appear as a result of the speed of the river.
Another poem that illustrates the power of the wave can be found in the following poem by Fujiwara no Shunzei (藤原俊成) from the Senzai Wakashū (1274), compiled at the end of the Heian period.
貴船川玉散る瀬々の岩波に
氷を砕く秋の夜の月
Kibunegawa
Tama chiru seze no
Iwanami ni
Kōri o kudaku
Aki no yo no tsuki
In autumn moonlight
Waves breaking upon rocks in
Kibune River
Scatter glistening spray
And smash apart floating ice
This poem expresses the turbulence felt from unrequited love. The ‘spray scattering’ is a play on words referring to an unsettled spirit (「魂を散る」) and the ice being smashed refers to the heart being battered and broken. The iwanami in this case refers to the sudden and powerful emotional impact, and the complete disarray the author feels. In a similar way, the Eishin- ryū tanka expresses the psychological and physical impact of the strike throwing the opponent into disarray.
One final point I wish to raise here is how the motions of the sword in Musō Jikiden Eishin-ryū seem to reflect the shape of the wave.
When the practitioner draws his sword, he stands, brings it round to his right side and draws it back so the tsuka is held behind him and the kissaki is only protruding a little in front of his knee. The practitioner is bent at the waist at an almost 45 degree angle. The sword tip is likewise pointing downwards at a 45 degree angle. When the practitioner drops his hips and stabs the opponent, he straightens his waist and moves the sword through 90 degrees – the tsuka ends up at the knee, and the kissaki is now pointing upwards at a 45 degree angle. This can be seen in the rough diagram below.
Blade movement for Iwanami’s thrust
The motions of the sword in drawing back and stabbing forward in this way seem to mimic the shape and movement of the tanka’s wave. The wave swells (drawing back) and then rolls forward in an instant to strike the boat (stabbing). The shape of the thrust is to my mind similar to the trough of a wave.
As readers of previous articles will have realised, in all the Eishin-ryu tanka the practitioner’s movement is described by the subject of the poem. In this case the practitioner moves with the suddenness and speed of a crashing wave striking a boat. Both the wave, and the practitioner’s thrusting sword, are unforeseen and powerful forces that overwhelm their victims in an instant, before they can even begin to react.
Please note that I am a beginner in the fields of both iai and translation, and that basic look at the tanka may well contain errors. As always, I leave it to those more experienced and knowledgeable than myself to find the deeper meaning in the poem.
Comments and constructive criticisms are very welcome.

Very good article, but Hakudo Sensei is not doing Iwanami in that picture… he is doing “Junto”. The Yushinkan has the original photo, which has”Junto” written on it (in Nakayama Zendo Sensei’s own handwriting).
Jeffery, thank you for your comment. I have removed the picture above to avoid spreading misinformation.
It proved very difficult to find usable photos of Iwanami, and I fear that when I finally stumbled across that picture of Nakayama sensei I was a little too hasty in checking the facts.
No worries ^ ^
Looking forward to Urokogaeshi