By Bill Austin

Feb. 28 (Bloomberg) -- For those who prefer their bath water saline and drawn from a depth of 320 meters (1,050 feet), cosmetics guru Shu Uemura has just the place.

Shu labels his Utoco spa on Japan's southern island of Shikoku the world's first deep-sea therapy center. Built on a rocky coastline, Utoco resembles a gleaming white ocean liner with portholes for windows and a gangway connecting guest suites to the spa.

Outside, black kites circle their prey. Inside, everything is white -- walls, light-fittings, tables, treatment rooms. It felt as though I'd stumbled onto a Stanley Kubrick movie set, a sort of ``2001'' meets ``A Clockwork Orange,'' complete with white-coated staff.

Shu began as a Hollywood makeup artist in the 1950s, preparing Shirley MacLaine and Frank Sinatra for the camera. By the 1960s he had developed his own cleansing oil, forerunner of his eponymous global cosmetics brand.

In the 1990s, Shu started using deep-sea water pumped from below Cape Muroto on Shikoku to make skin treatments. The water, from an ocean current that rarely sees the surface, contains more than 60 minerals, including magnesium and selenium, to refresh and hydrate the skin, according to his company's Web site.

At Utoco, you can drink deep-sea water, bathe in it and even sit in its steam.

White Robes

The 17 guest rooms range from 33 square meters -- bigger than many Tokyo apartments -- to an 80 square-meter suite that Shu was occupying during my visit. All face the Pacific Ocean.

Each room has a front window and a sofa running its length. The cushions give a dash of color to the white surroundings, blood reds and marine blues that pay homage to Shu's cosmetics craft. Guests are provided with white cotton sleeping shirts and bathrobes that can be worn for the duration, even to breakfast.

The resort is a play on words, standing for ShU to KOchi, the main city on the island. Deep sea water is big business in Shikoku and the local government runs its own, more modest spa next door.

Shu isn't alone in promoting the properties of sea water pumped from a depth devoid of sunlight. The Intercontinental Resort and Thalasso Spa on the Tahitian island of Bora Bora offer similar treatments. The resort takes its name from the Greek word for sea ``thalassa'' and draws some of its water from a depth of 800 meters in the South Pacific.

Vodka and Tonic

Deep sea water is also big business in Hawaii where Koyo USA Corp. collects it from a depth of 3,000 feet off the coast of Kona to produce MaHaLo Hawaii Deep Sea Drinking Water. The same water is used in Ocean Vodka, a spirit blended on Maui by a family-run business.

Back at Utoco, the gangway to the treatment center passes through the all-white (what else?) entrance and dining area and on to an ocean-front reading room that conjures up images of John Lennon singing ``Imagine'' at his white grand piano. Here, you can make yourself an espresso and leaf through Japanese and English books on fashion, chocolate and design.

In the spa, the white-clad attendants explain the three basic treatment plans, costing between 9,000 yen ($74) and 18,000 yen each. I chose one with four elements, spread over two days.

The main spa is centered around a swimming pool heated to body temperature where guests can float on foam `noodles' or take a seat in small parking bays that gurgle and bubble. There's an open-air hot tub that generates enough salty foam to mimic the ocean below. Best of all, there's a hammam, or Turkish bath. Hotel guests can use these facilities all day free of charge, or relax on deck chairs that surround the pool.

Mud Torpedo

I started with chromatic therapy, combining water and mud. Daubed in the latter, which had been imported from France, I lay down in what could best be described as a torpedo tube that covered my body from the neck down. After a time, a gentle steam peppered my back. It was certainly relaxing, but I could barely feel the steam.

Other guests raved about the hot-pack treatment in which the patient is caked in aloe mud and wrapped in a hot mat.

Next up, I tried an air-bubble bath, which is shaped like a regular tub you'd find at home but costs 3 million yen because of all the tiny holes that spurt jets of water over the entire body. At one point it felt as though a rolling pin of water jets was massaging my back. After 20 minutes of bubbles and temperature changes I was well-and-truly cooked.

Day two began with a 20-minute foot bath -- actually two baths, one hot and one cold. Each time a basin started to bubble, I was told to immerse my feet. There's a similar treatment for the hands. I finished up with a one-hour body massage, which was adequate rather than inspired.

For me, the treatments weren't the star attraction of Utoco. It was all about the escape, a retreat from the rigors of Tokyo.

A word of advice, though: I downed a few too many bottles in an effort to derive the maximum benefit from my stay and began to feel, well, a little bit sea sick.

Utoco Deep Sea Therapy Center & Hotel, 6969-1, Murotozaki Cho, Muroto shi, Kochi Prefecture. Rooms cost from 34,000 yen a night per couple, plus treatments. Flights from Tokyo's Haneda airport take 90 Minutes to Kochi and there's a free 80-minute shuttle bus for guests to the spa. Call +81-887-22-1811 or visit http://www.utocods.co.jp for details

(Bill Austin is an editor for Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed here are his own.)

To contact the reporter responsible for this story: Bill Austin at billaustin@bloomberg.net
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