Photo Justin Turkowski
I met Kimi Werner at the Patagonia Ambassador Meeting. The ambassadors that congregated from all over the world were a little different from your average person. They all had bright smiles. I could feel the wild strength in their eyes and with a kindness that seemed to exude from them. They were humble and powerful, like students who had received special education in the natural world.
A snapshot of Kimi on a boat on the way to a spot on Lembongan Island.
There were rock climbers, surfers, fishermen, sailors and other experts from all walks of life gathered there, and being among them really made me feel like I was in a zoo. It was in that unique atmosphere that I first met Kimi.
Kimi is snorkeling with a school of fish that appear to
be horse mackerel.
Photo Justin Turkowski
When I saw you underwater, you looked like a real mermaid. It's hard to put into words, but it didn't seem like a human living on land diving into the sea, but rather a creature in a sea world living on land in human form. Her appearance in the ocean seemed superhuman. She moved slowly and gently like a manta ray and sank to the bottom. When she hit the ocean's seabed, she didn't move at all. After a while, I began to see fish curiously gathering around her. Then, with minimal movements, she took aim and speared the fish. The others in the water were giving chase to the fish, making wild movements and their wakes were noticeably rough. Comparably, Kimi was calm and seemed to blend into the world of the fish and communicate with them, "I'm going to eat you today." Like an artistic dance, I was truly impressed by her beautiful behavior.
Mimi sinks to the bottom, blending into the environment, and waits for the right moment.
Photo Justin Turkowski
When she was little, her family was really poor and her father would dive into the ocean to gather food. When she was five years old, she would join in the dive by riding on her father’s back. That was her first encounter with the underwater world.
On a dive together, while enjoying watching the fish swim happily, the spear that her father carried pierced a fish. At that moment, she expressed, "Why did you kill that fish? I feel so bad for it." Her father then explained, "Do you know how good a life that fish has had? That fish swam freely in the ocean and played with its friends." Kimi replied, "I know that, so you shouldn't have killed it!" Her father then responded, "But that fish lived in a colorful world and experienced a lot. It was just one bad day for him." He continued, "Even if I lived a glorious life and knew one unlucky day ended it, I would still choose that kind of life." Hearing that, Kimi explained to me that it gave her a chance to think deeply about taking the lives of these beautiful fish.
Honestly, in the wild, that's the rule of nature, whether we have a hand in it or not. I've seen lions attacking Cape Buffalo in Africa. That's what I call a really bad day. It's not a nice catch or a quick knife to the brain to minimize suffering. It's the severity of being eaten alive. You only have one real bad day in life and that's part of nature.
During a meal with my friend TET during a temporary visit to Japan, we talked about how I cooked for my friend's family while I was in America. Then, his 9-year-old son, who has loved fish since he was a small child, was passionate about not only fishing but also cooking the fish he caught. When he had the chance to dine at a sushi restaurant, he would lean forward to watch the chef prepare the fish. On the days he wasn't fishing, he would ask to order whole fish from the local fishmonger. We got excited talking about how much he loves fish and cooking. Since then, I've wanted to somehow match Kimi's attitude towards fish and the way she interacted with the sea with TET's son's enthusiasm.
Then, a few months later, when I was living in Hawaii, that chance came. Kimi was also interested in the story of TET's son so we made plans to dive together. Unfortunately, when the day arrived, Kimi became sick, so we had to cancel our plans to dive together. As an apology, Kimi offered me the fish she caught the day prior, so I went to pick it up. We decided to meet at the house of one of my best friends, big wave surfer Kohl Christensen.
The family arrived and the kids picked papayas from the trees and snorkeled on a secluded beach with no one around. We greeted the Hawaiian seas and the fish swimming there. We brought a stepladder into the water to jump off of, the local children joined in. Hawaiian-style play to the fullest.
TET’s son picking papayas planted on the property.
A local placing a ladder in the ocean and doing front flips.
At the outdoor kitchen, TET’s son inspected the fish Kimi had given us and decided on the menu: Sashimi and Acqua Pazza.
He removed the scales, liver and organs of the fish and washed it with the same care as if they were treasures given to him by Mother Nature. With the knife in hand, he cut sashimi with confidence and dexterity, which his sister then arranged beautifully onto a plate. The Acqua Pizza was also amazing!
Kimi despises people who spear big fish as if they were a trophy and has contempt for people who hire others to clean and prepare it, only to use the fillet-cut portions. "The hunt isn't over when you kill the fish. It's only when you have respectfully prepared it, cooked it and eaten everything until there is nothing left to eat."
The sashimi prepared by TET’s son disappeared in an instant and the Acqua Pazza was also a big success, so delicious that local children started picking the meat around the bones off with their fingers. The life of fish was transformed into everyone's feeling of “Deliciousness!"
Dinner in Bali. The bone Kimi is holding is the catch of the day.
Photo Justin Turkowski
Photo Justin Turkowski
I think there is a reason why so many of us in this modern age are seeking social status, career status, money, material things and the approval of those around us. It’s because we are trying to fill this hole inside of us.
I think the same hole can be filled when you know how to make fire, gather food in a primitive way like using a spear, when you witness your vegetables growing in a garden. To feed yourself is to feel yourself, to feel a sense of belonging to the earth. I think I leaned from Kimi that maybe we have forgotten that and that is the purpose of our existence.
Sunset on White Sand Beach. Kimi with her husband Justin and their two children.
RipZinger / Photographer, world traveler
Born in Minato Ward, Tokyo.
Photo Justin Turkowski
Born in Minato Ward, Tokyo.
Grew up as a skater in an international environment.
At a time when foreigners were still rare in Japan, he began working as a photographer both in Japan and abroad, engaging in global exchange daily. Inspired by the idea of “getting out of your comfort zone and making your life richer,” he photographs the people he meets and the world he sees, spreading the message, “The world is big,” “Travel and expand your world.” A city-raised, junk food loving skater, he traveled around the world, immersed himself in nature, and continued to engage in activities every place he visited, leading him to where he is today.
Today, he is a health researcher. His motto is to promote health awareness in people through pop-ups, healthy food, massages and more. His encounter with surfing was an encounter that could be called a revolution in his consciousness.
Kimi Wener/Spearfisher Women
Born in Maui, Hawaii.
From an early age, she went out to sea with her father, who was a freediver and learned to understand the role nature plays and the impact humans have on nature. She is now working to achieve a healthy coexistence with nature on a global scale based on sustainability.
She is a USA National Spearfishing Champion, chef, environmental activist and mother.
She runs the brand “KEEP WILD CO,” which is considerate of the local environment.
Her husband, Justin Turkowski, is a photographer who has accompanied her on numerous dives and captures the scenes.
