Son-dol: cold day for ferryman and merchant

A guard post overlooking Son-dol Mok. Son-dol’s tomb is located within the military compound in the late 1990s. Courtesy of Thomas Duvernay

By Robert Neff

• Published Dec 3, 2023 8:22 AM KST
• Updated Jun 25, 2024 3:56 PM KST

Unless you have lived in Korea for a long time, you are probably unaware of Son-dol Day, which occurs every year on the 20th day of the 10th month of the lunar calendar. This year it falls on December 3.

According to legend, during the Mongol invasion in 1232, King Gojong of Goryeo (r. 1213-1259), seeking safety on Ganghwa Island, hired Son-dol, a ferryman, to guide him to the island. In the narrow channel separating the island from the mainland there is a particularly dangerous area filled with wild shifting currents and whirlpool and it was here that the ferryman apparently became lost. The king, fearing treachery, ordered his hapless guide to be decapitated.

The ferryman could offer no excuse to appease the king but assured the monarch that even in death he would continue to guide him to safety if a gourd was placed in the water in front of the boat and then followed. Son-dol’s professed loyalty was not enough to spare his life and he was promptly executed.

One version of the legend claims that as the ferryman’s head was removed, a powerful wind began to blow. In a desperate bid to calm the malevolence permeating the area, a horse was sacrificed and the winds died down.

However, the most popular account claims that the gourd was placed in the water and, as Son-dol had promised, the vessel was led to safety. With deep regret, and undoubtedly some fear that the spirit of the boatman might haunt him, the Korean monarch had his body honorably buried and a shrine erected so that yearly sacrifices could be made on the twentieth day of the tenth month. Perhaps as a reminder, a very cold wind – named after Son-dol – frequently blows through the strait on this day and fishermen and sailors loathed to go to sea for fear of offending the spirits.

This tradition of honoring the loyal ferryman was also recorded by the accounts of Westerners living in Korea in the late 19th and early 20th century. In 1902, Mark N. Trollope wrote that on the anniversary of Son-dol’s death “a boisterous whirlwind blows though the [the narrow strait] which bears his name, and the passing boatman is fain to pour a libation and breathe a prayer to the restless spirit of the dead.”

There is a curious twist to the legend of the ferryman. During the French-Korean Conflict in 1866, General Yang Heon-su and his army were forced to cross the strait in the middle of the night from the mainland to Ganghwa Island. Prior to the crossing, General Yang went to Son-dol’s tomb and offered sacrifices and prayers. Despite the dangerous currents and the cold (it was the first week of November), his army managed to safely cross and engaged the French forces the following day. General Yang dealt the French a serious beating – nearly 50 French casualties while the Koreans suffered only one death and three wounded.

This strait was also the likely site where an Irish captain named Patrick Hodnett lost his ship, Zephyr, in the fall of 1884. The Zephyr sailed from Jemulpo and was bound for Mapo – which was then a port on the Han River serving Seoul – when it suddenly struck a submerged stone or reef in the middle of the channel. Hodnett recalled:

“[The] tide was so rapid I thought she [the Zephyr] would turn over; a whirlpool with fifteen fathoms was close alongside of us. The rocks were rugged, and the tide ebbings so fast kept her on the reef.”

There were a couple of small Korean ships in the vicinity but they did not come immediately to the Zephyr’s rescue for fear they, too, would suffer a similar fate. Eventually the strength of the current subsided with the change of tide and Hodnett and his crew were rescued by Korean sailors. The Zephyr was not rescued and by the following morning was gone – presumably smashed by the incoming tide or sucked down into the depths by the whirlpool.

Hodnett seems to have toyed with the idea that supernatural forces were responsible for the loss of his ship. Not the guardian spirit of Son-dol, for he knew nothing about this legend, but avenging Japanese spirits for his perceived slight at Kotohira-gu, a sailors’ shrine in Japan that he had visited prior to arriving in Korea.

However, Westerners living in Jemulpo who were familiar with this treacherous strait did not blame the supernatural guardians (Korean or Japanese) but laid the blame solely upon Hodnett’s seamanship and hubris. A German captain working for the Korean government noted the Korean sailors were aware of the potential dangers but had little, if any, difficulty in passing through the strait in good weather.

There is another variation of Son-dol that has nothing to do with the strait. According to the Encyclopedia of Korean Culture:

Son-dol was a merchant from Gyeong Province who was advised to buy warm clothing in preparation for winter. Son-dol, however, dismissed this advice as being too hasty as the weather was still quite warm. Instead of buying clothes, he bought a mortar so that he could continue to make money. Tirelessly, he worked every day and was unaware the weather was growing colder and colder. Suddenly, on the 20th day of the 10th month, the weather because extremely cold and Son-dol, who had no warm clothing, froze to death.

I suppose each legend has a moral to it. The first cautioning against being too hasty to vilify the acts of someone trying to aid you and the second to quickly heed the advice of those trying to be helpful.

If you have a chance tonight and feel inclined to do so, lift a glass in honor of Son-dol the loyal ferryman, who, judging by the wind, continues to serve his liege. Dress warmly.

My appreciation to Thomas Duvernay for allowing me to use his photographs of Son-dol Mok.

Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.