Illumine Lingao (English Translation)
đź“š GitHub đź’¬ Discord
« Previous Volume 1 Index Next »

Chapter 42: The Ship (Part 2)

"Unusable?!" Disappointment rippled across the room. Was their glorious vision of a multi-turreted ironclad battleship-freighter about to vanish like smoke?

"Why beach it at all?" someone protested. "Once a ship runs aground, refloating it is nearly impossible. We may not have enough crew to operate it now, but that doesn't mean we never will."

"We're crossing over just to use it as a hotel? What a waste! How are we supposed to fight pirates on the high seas without an invincible warship?"

"With a ship like that, Zheng Zhilong, Liu Xiang, the Dutch, the English—they'd all be nothing but fodder!"

"Is there any way to avoid beaching?" Wen Desi asked. "Hainan's west coast has plenty of good harbors. Lingao alone has several deep-water port development zones. There's one called Jinpai Port, isn't there? They even ran investment promotions in Guangzhou. Surely it has adequate deep-water berths."

"It's not that simple."

Meng De could see that the group's understanding of shipping and port facilities was essentially nonexistent, so he offered some background first.

Before modern times, he explained, only a handful of ports with exceptionally favorable geography and water conditions allowed large ships to dock directly at the quay. In most harbors around the world, oceangoing vessels had to anchor in deeper water, with lighters and small boats ferrying cargo and passengers ashore load by load. Even well into the modern era, many major ports still operated dedicated passenger ferries for ocean liners and fleets of cargo lighters. The inefficiency was staggering. Modern ports addressed this by constructing extensive dock facilities—even the most basic setup required multiple piers.

The Lingao area where the transmigrators planned to land lay in Hainan's northern region. The ports of Qiongbei stretched from Mulantou in the east to Bingmajiao in the west, comprising a series of coastal indentations curving inland: Puqian Bay, Haikou Bay, Chengmai Bay, Dongshui Port, Huachang Port, Maniao Port, Hongpai Port, and Houshui Bay.

Countless harbors of various sizes dotted these bays, but most were small natural inlets accommodating only fishing boats. Though Ming-era Hainan served as an important waypoint for Sino-foreign maritime trade—with many merchant ships stopping for shelter and fresh water—the island's own commerce was underdeveloped, concentrated mainly at Shenying Port in Qiongshan. The bays within Lingao County remained almost entirely in their primitive state.

"None of these Ming-era Hainan bays will have any port facilities," Meng De continued. "Moreover, the ports of the Qiongbei region are generally shallow. The Jinpai Port development zone Director Wen mentioned is actually Hongpai Port. Even after Phase One development and dredging, it can only berth 5,000-ton general cargo ships."

Murmuring swept through the room. Many had assumed Hongpai was a natural deep-water port—it was not. The Hongpai Peninsula jutted northward into the open sea, its cape constantly battered by wind and waves, carved into sea cliffs and wave-cut platforms. Eroded lava debris drifted with the currents to the peninsula's western shore, forming a gravel beach. Finer sediment migrated into Hongpai Port itself, leaving the inner bay choked with sandy deposits. While the western face of the peninsula—Hongpai Islet—featured a basalt wave-cut platform with respectable depths of five meters or more at its leading edge, the port's interior suffered from longshore drift and silting, leaving only two to four meters of water.

The Executive Committee had originally planned to use Jinpai Port—Hongpai Port—for ship mooring. Meng De's explanation killed that plan entirely. At two to four meters depth, a 10,000-ton vessel was out of the question. Even ships of 2,000 to 3,000 tons would struggle.

"Furthermore," Meng De added, "the extensive beaches inside the harbor will make unloading extremely difficult."

He paused to consider the alternatives. "Among Lingao's ports, Houshui Bay has the best hydrographic conditions. Deep channels of ten meters extend inward on both the east and west sides of Linchang Island within the bay. The wave-shadow zone south of the island is a shallow sediment deposit, but still maintains seven to eight meters of depth. The shoreline consists of coral reef—highly erosion-resistant with minimal sediment runoff into the bay. Beach erosion and deposition have stabilized there. Houshui Bay is arguably Lingao's finest natural deep-water harbor." He gestured for emphasis. "For the transmigrators, it offers another advantage: Linchang Island serves as a natural barrier. Fortifications there could effectively defend against seaborne attack—far superior to tiny outcrops like Hongpai Islet."

This was expertise in action. Whether forging an effective military organization or an efficient production enterprise, proper division of labor—placing specialists in positions suited to their knowledge—formed the essential foundation. The Executive Committee felt the weight of this truth. A respectful silence settled over the meeting room.

"Seems you can't just take things for granted in this world," Ma Qianzhu sighed.

"Should we establish our port base at Houshui Bay, then? Since conditions there are superior?"

"No, that won't work." Wen Desi shook his head firmly. "Houshui Bay is excellent as a port, but unsuitable as a landing base. There's no water."

The Houshui Bay area of ancient Lingao had no major natural rivers. It was one of the county's driest regions, and local villages had suffered water shortages for generations. Only after 1949 were deep wells drilled and irrigation channels dug to solve the problem.

Without sufficient freshwater, everything became inconvenient. The location was also rather distant from Lingao County town and the transmigrators' future main base, making transport and communication awkward.

"What do you recommend?" The speaker's tone had shifted from casual to deferential.

"Where will the main base be located?"

"Bairen Beach, in the lower reaches of the Wenlan River."

Meng De considered this for a moment. "If you want the closest option, that would be Bopu Port. It's essentially the Wenlan River's estuary—classified as a river-mouth port. It has long served as a key transit point between Hainan and the mainland, and it's a natural typhoon shelter. The central deep channel reaches six to seven meters, though the harbor contains many sandbars and the anchorage is quite small."

"That depth should suffice for a 10,000-ton ship, shouldn't it? I believe the draft is around seven meters."

"Correct. Shallow-draft coastal cargo ships can manage even less. The problem is that I don't have local hydrographic data—no, I mean I don't have Ming-era hydrographic data. And without either a pilot or a proper engine-room crew, even with a modern port, we couldn't dock safely. In modern shipping, vessels are often 'pushed' to the dock by tugboats. With my level of ship-handling, if we enter harbor without beaching or running aground, that would be extraordinary luck."

"A ship costs tens of millions at minimum. Spend tens of millions just to build a floating Yamato Hotel?"

"Actually, my recommendation is to use barges—flat-deck or open-hold types." Meng De boldly proposed an idea entirely lacking in glory, universally despised by the group. But he ignored their expressions. In his professional domain, at least, he had yet to encounter anyone who could challenge him—and that gave him confidence. Even if he said something wrong, no one could refute him.

"Towed by tugboats? Aren't those river vessels?"

"I'm talking about maritime barges, generally used in coastal waters. Deadweight tonnage ranges from 1,500 to 8,500 tons. Some barges are self-propelled for short coastal voyages. These ships have very shallow drafts—a 1,500-tonner draws only two meters."

A typical self-propelled deck barge had specifications like:

They could carry all manner of dry cargo and containers. The drawbacks: very slow, limited range, poor seakeeping—suitable only for short coastal freight runs. Of course, none of this mattered to the transmigrators.

After comprehensive consideration, however, the group decided to prioritize general cargo ships, with self-propelled barges serving as backup only if the budget fell short. The reasoning was straightforward: self-propelled barges carried no cranes or loading equipment, depending entirely on port infrastructure. For the transmigrators, manually unloading thousands of tons was essentially a fantasy—to say nothing of items weighing tens or hundreds of tons that no amount of manpower could shift. General cargo ships typically came equipped with derricks and various loading and unloading gear.

"I have an idea." Zhao De of the Athletics Group had served in a naval district and was counted among the transmigrators' future naval core, so he too attended this ship-selection meeting.

"Even if we don't beach the cargo ship, using a freighter as a warship is completely impractical." Zhao De brushed dust from his sleeve. "Large cargo ships have deep drafts and complex handling, and they don't necessarily turn any faster than sailing vessels. No matter how powerful our ship might be, will our opponents keep lining up for head-on battles after we thrash them once? They have numerical superiority—they can conduct harassment warfare along shipping lanes and coastlines. When combat begins, we'll be overwhelmed. Even if we sortie and sink a few, the rest will scatter into shallow water where we can't follow. What then? Lower lifeboats and chase them? We need sea control, and a single isolated ship that guzzles fuel and manpower is simply too wasteful."

The glorious multi-turreted ironclad battleship-freighter had been thoroughly criticized. Everyone felt a pang of loss, but upon reflection, this former naval officer had a point.

"I'm a fisherman myself," Zhao De continued. "Back in my production brigade days, I captained fishing boats. During my military service, I saw the navy use them too—vessels of 200 to 400 tons with excellent range and seaworthiness. Wouldn't they serve better as the core of our crossing navy than some ironclad battleship-freighter fantasy? Speed alone makes them far superior, and fuel consumption is a fraction of what a cargo ship requires."

"And you can fish!"

"Exactly—you can still fish. These are generally trawlers, built to last."

"Fishing boats aren't easy to acquire," Meng De objected. "The fishery bureau paperwork is a nightmare."

"No problem. After we buy them, we simply don't register for fishery use. Once we cross over, we can do whatever we want with them."

Opinion within the Executive Committee divided on this point—some felt it unnecessarily complicated the operation. But the majority voiced support. The Hainan where the transmigrators would build their base boasted extremely rich surrounding fishery resources; the Beibu Gulf remains an important fishing ground to this day, with annual disputes between Chinese and Vietnamese fishermen. In the seventeenth century, those waters would surely be even more abundant. Owning one or more fishing boats would significantly enrich the transmigrators' protein sources. Modern fishing vessels were nimble, maneuverable, and easy to operate—ideal for an early near-shore naval force. After all, the narrowest point of the Qiongzhou Strait measured less than 18 kilometers. Even very small boats could cross with ease. Without vessels providing early warning at sea, enemies might go undetected until they entered visual range from shore—a dangerously passive position.

And so the plan was decided. Zhao De received the task of fishing-boat selection, along with preparing related spare-parts and materials procurement lists. After the meeting concluded, at Meng De's suggestion, a group of transmigrators with good physical condition and some interest in sailing were selected for training. Meng De used his professional connections to find a friend whose family operated several coastal cargo ships, and the trainees were sent aboard for hands-on practical instruction.

(End of Chapter)

« Previous Volume 1 Index Next »