Howan lies in Checheng Township, Pingtung County, within the coral reef coastal belt encircling the Hengchun Peninsula. The coastline stretches 90 kilometers from Fenggang in Checheng Township in the west to Xuhai in Mudan Township in the east, its fringing reefs well developed throughout. Over millennia, wave action has carved the uplifted coral into a dramatic terrain of sea grooves, sea stacks, and potholes of every size.

Those potholes are the product of millions of years of geological patience. Waves carrying sand and gravel repeatedly scoured the reef surface, hollowing softer sections into round or oval depressions. Swirling currents then abraded the rock from within, deepening each cavity into a natural basin. The people of Howan call these formations iâm-khut-á—and each winter and spring, they become the village's prime salt-harvesting grounds.

Sweeping Salt, Hiding Salt

Taiwan's salt industry traces its modern origins to 1665, when Chen Yonghua—a military adviser to the Zheng administration—introduced solar evaporation techniques at Laikou in Tainan, replacing the older method of boiling seawater. That transition launched more than three centuries of sun-dried salt production. But the Hengchun Peninsula offered no flat terrain suitable for salt pans, so the people of Howan developed their own approach entirely.

Each summer, typhoon-driven waves pushed seawater high onto the coral reef, leaving it trapped in the iâm-khut-á. Through the winter months, sea winds and sunlight slowly evaporated the brine. By the time the Lunar New Year approached, a thin crust of white salt flowers had formed across the pit surfaces, and the remaining liquid had concentrated into a dense brine reaching 25 degrees Baumé—the saturation point at which harvesting could begin. The Baumé scale measures salinity: fresh seawater registers around 3 degrees Baumé, or roughly 30 grams of salt per liter, while brine at 25 degrees Baumé has reached full concentration through evaporation.

In earlier generations, Howan elders would pick their way across the reef at this season to “sweep salt”—collecting the crystals and brine with simple tools for use at home. The salt went toward curing fish and seasoning food; the concentrated brine was used to make tofu. But from the Japanese colonial period through the postwar decades, Taiwan enforced a salt monopoly. Salt police patrolled Checheng and Xiaoliuqiu, cracking down on unauthorized production. Sweeping salt, stockpiling it, and hiding brine all became illegal.

When the Miaoli Tongxiao refined salt plant began mass production in 1975, cheap commercial salt displaced the traditional product. Many Howan elders gradually forgot the aged salt they had once stashed away at home. A way of life that had persisted for generations was quietly slipping from memory.

From Conservation to Cultural Revival

In 2010, Howan resident Yang Mei Yun founded the Howan Humanities and Natural Ecology Conservation Association to protect the local land crabs and coastal environment, launching a program of ecotourism and cultural tours. During community fieldwork, she uncovered the nearly forgotten tradition of iâm-khut-á salt harvesting and spent five or six years experimenting until she had successfully reconstructed both the harvesting technique and the art of making salt-brine tofu.

Timing is everything. Once spring rains arrive, impurities dilute the brine; during the plum rain season and typhoon period, even strong sunlight cannot compensate for the silt and debris that settle into the pits. The purest brine is available only in the transition from late winter to early spring. That is when harvesters set out—empty buckets in hand, threading through the coastal forest and leaping across the coral reef—searching for pits where salt flowers are abundant and the brine runs clear.

When a shimmer of translucent salt crystals comes into view, the harvest is ready. Collecting the salt flowers and brine with care is the first and most critical step in the entire process: only the cleanest raw material yields salt of genuine quality.

The glistening salt crystals in Howan's coral reef cavities are nature's white-gold gift, refined over countless years. (Photo: Yang Mei Yun)

The Ocean Flavors of Sargassum Salt

Howan's riches extend beyond coral reef brine. The coastline also supports abundant seaweed, including sargassum—a brown alga that grows in the coral reef's mid-intertidal zone, serving as both food for sea turtles and habitat for the small creatures of the tidal flat. February is peak season, when the spores mature and the flavor is at its best. Harvesting requires a gentle hand: collectors part the fronds carefully to avoid disturbing the shrimp, fish, and crabs sheltering within. The seaweed then undergoes repeated washing and soaking before being sun-dried for several days.

Producing sargassum salt is a laborious and exacting process. The dried seaweed is simmered for over four hours until the broth takes on the scent of sea vegetables and katsuobushi, or dried fermented bonito—a sign that the alginic acid has been released. Separately, the brine is brought to a boil and cleared of impurities. The two liquids are then combined and cooked down together, slowly thickening from liquid to paste. As the mixture's natural gelatin intensifies, the spatula grows heavier with each pass; the cook must work with both hands, stirring continuously and managing the heat to prevent scorching.

From liquid to paste to dark crystalline salt, the full process takes eight to twelve hours. Once removed from the heat, the salt is wrapped in quilts to retain warmth and left to cool slowly overnight before being bottled the following day. The resulting sargassum salt carries layered oceanic complexity. Some describe it as tasting purely of the sea; others detect a faint sweetness reminiscent of cane sugar; still others find a subtle note of crab. In depth of flavor, it holds its own against Japanese moshio, a traditional seaweed-infused sea salt.

Howan sargassum salt, produced through twelve hours of simmering, carries layered oceanic complexity. (Photo: Yang Mei Yun)

A Philosophy of Living with the Sea

The iâm-khut-á salt harvest is more than a production technique. It embodies an island community's hard-won wisdom about coexisting with nature: attentive observation of seasons, tides, and weather; careful stewardship of resources—harvesting without damaging the ecosystem and repurposing spent sargassum as orchard compost—and a commitment to keeping nearly lost knowledge alive in the present.

Taiwan's salt history spans more than three centuries. From Chen Yonghua's salt pans in Tainan during the Zheng administration, through the flourishing salt fields along the western coast during the Qing-governed period, to the expansion of salt-field acreage to over seven thousand jia, approximately 6,800 hectares, under Japanese rule, the industry defined entire stretches of the island's coastline. In 2002, the last working salt flat ceased production, bringing large-scale industrial salt-making to a close. In Howan, however, the ancient practice rooted in coral reef cavities has continued—carried forward as living cultural heritage.

Today, the iâm-khut-á harvest is not pursued for commercial gain. It endures to remind people of the ocean's importance and to preserve a community's tradition of living in balance with the natural world. That tradition places Howan within a broader global movement. Artisan sea salts—among them fleur de sel from Guérande in France, agehama salt from Japan's Noto Peninsula, and Maldon flake salt from England—have earned international recognition precisely because they carry the terroir of their origins and the craft knowledge of their makers. Howan's coral reef salt belongs in that company.