Dead in the Water: A Floating Cemetery for Hong Kong

A concept building in Hong Kong by the designer Tin Shun But gives a whole new meaning to burial at sea. Instead of tossing ashes into the great blue yonder, you can stow them on a floating columbarium moored to the main land. Think of it as a cruise ship, of sorts, but for permanent vacationers.

It sounds absurd, until you realize how difficult it is to find a place in Hong Kong to spend eternity. In a city that packs more than 7 million residents into less than 500 square miles, burial grounds are in hot demand, with private cemetery spaces going for $280,000HKD (about $36,000 USD) and families waiting up to 56 months for a reused plot in a public burial site, according to Bloomberg. Demand far outstrips supply, and as a result, the vast majority of bodes are cremated. The city expects some 400,000 new urns in the next decade.

Just finding space for all those ashes is geographically fraught. Hong Kong is firmly rooted in Buddhist traditions, and showing dead ancestors proper respect is a powerful cultural imperative -- that includes grade-A resting places. (Views of other graveyards, bad; views of nature, good.) Apparently, a debate is raging over whether to build the city a multi-story columbarium or develop the land for mortal endeavors.

The problem is hardly confined to Hong Kong. From New York to Singapore, cemeteries are filling to the brim, forcing regions to adopt curious burial rituals: exhumations, grave-sharing, etc. In eco-conscious Sweden, it's now legal to freeze bodies in liquid nitrogen, then shatter them. (This is supposedly gentler on the environment than burning bodies, if somewhat disturbing to family members.)

Hong Kong has considered other options. Last year, as Bloomberg reported, city officials dropped by a colombarium outside Tokyo where families swipe a smart card to access ashes from an underground vault, turning the somber act of remembrance into something like an ATM withdrawal. Visitors can bring flowers and tchotchkes if they want, but they have to remove them as soon as they leave. And if they're too lazy to make the trip, they can always pray in front of an image of the urn online.

So Tin Shun But's idea is pretty damned smart. From the harbor, visitors pull up to the columbarium by boat, then set the ashes in a designated niche or sprinkle them overboard into the murky depths. Seascape at every turn provides a picturesque environment in which to pay respects and a fitting cosmic tribute to those who've shuffled off this mortal coil. The harborside location doesn't get in the way of urban development plans.



We imagine some people might balk at the impermanence of it all. What's to say a storm doesn't hurl a monster wave on deck, washing dear granny into the sea? It's possible. Maybe even probable. But burial grounds themselves are subject to the vagaries of weather, vandalism, and time. Just look to the tombs of ancient Egypt, or even of modern New Orleans. Hardly anyone rests in peace forever.

[Check out more pics at Arch Daily]