Chapter 259 — Arriving at Yulin

"This is Dadonghai," Captain Lin Chuanqing announced, steadying the helm. "The outer harbor of Yulin. Further in lies the long, bag-shaped anchorage—the inner harbor."

The entire expanse of Yulin Harbor lay cradled by encircling mountains. Emerald waters, white sand, sapphire sky, and swaying coconut groves—the scenery was breathtaking, utterly pristine.

"Yazhou is Hainan's main coconut producing region." Wang Luobin gazed at the groves dancing along the bay's edge, and in his mind's eye, countless products took flight: harmless soap at one end of the spectrum, nitroglycerin ready to tear men limb from limb at the other. "We can make a fortune here."

"Engineer Wang, right now you remind me of Japanese devils descending on a village." Lin Chuanqing chuckled and picked up the walkie-talkie. "Little Mont, check the tide table. Ebb or flood?"

"Starting to ebb, sir! One hour and seventeen minutes until lowest tide."

Lin Chuanqing turned to the others. "Commander Chen, Engineer Wang—I suggest we drop anchor here for now. Better to enter port at minimum tide. There are submerged reefs and low sandbars in there; at low water, they'll be visible."

"Agreed. We'll wait." Chen Haiyang raised the walkie-talkie and issued orders to the Zhenhai and Hangzhou to drop anchor and stand by. "All naval cadets are to measure water depth, wind direction, and wind speed. They'll handle piloting us in."

Lin Chuanqing raised an eyebrow. "You're letting the youngsters pilot the ships?"

"Yulin Harbor has the simplest hydrological conditions and reef layout of anywhere on this voyage. Good practice for them." Chen Haiyang turned to the group. "In the meantime, let's discuss our plans after landing."

"Same as Changhua: establish a stronghold and survey resources." Wang Luobin was confident. "This will be our primary source of copra. If we want to break the Qiongshan merchants' monopoly, we need a direct trading post here."

"We should send people to Yazhou City to sound out the situation."

"Yazhou won't be as straightforward as Changhua." Wang Luobin's expression sobered. "It's the government's key ruling stronghold in southern Hainan."

Yazhou's registered population approached twenty thousand—comparable to Lingao County itself. Since the Tang Dynasty, the region had served as a place of exile for disgraced officials. A settlement called Shuinan Village just outside the city walls had long been home to banished scholars. Consequently, the local gentry were not only numerous but deeply rooted; some lineages had propagated here for over twenty generations. Gaining a foothold would require finesse.

"I don't anticipate serious problems," Chen Haiyang said, spreading out the map. "According to Intelligence, most of Yazhou's population clusters around the city—the government's core. Yazhou City is here—" he tapped the map, "—in the Yazhou Bay area we passed yesterday. Overland to Yulin, the straight-line distance exceeds sixty kilometers. The land between is practically uninhabited. Establishing a base here should draw little interference."

"What about Ming naval patrols?" Wang Luobin recalled reading that the Ming military maintained garrison patrols in these waters.

"We're not building a castle and hoisting a banner," Chen Haiyang replied. "A modest fort or stockade—structures that are everywhere in this era. We'll station a few indigenous people specifically to handle inquiries. The Ming navy has no reason to trouble us. If a fight does break out, a handful of patrol boats can't crack our defenses. And if they muster a larger force, our communication advantage lets us concentrate superior firepower and annihilate them in one stroke."

As they debated post-landing operations, Mont's voice rang out: "Ten minutes to lowest tide!"

"Enter the port."

This time they did not lower the outboard motors. Instead, they deployed rowboats to tow the larger vessels in by oar. All piloting and observation duties fell to the naval cadets.

By now the tide had reached its nadir. Submerged reefs and sandbars emerged above the waterline. From the poop deck, even without a telescope, one could discern exposed rocks near Shen Island. To the island's northwest, a line of underwater reefs nearly a full cable's length stretched into view.

The fleet sailed onward to the entrance of Yulin's inner harbor. The anchorage beyond was shaped like a deep pocket, sheltered on three sides by mountains, with the outer harbor serving as a buffer zone and Shen Island standing guard at the mouth. The waters within were spacious and deep—capable of berthing ten-thousand-ton vessels. The hydrological conditions were superb.

So superb that even the armchair admirals among the transmigrators—men who had barely set foot on a ship before D-Day—could recognize the site's potential. They clustered together, chattering:

"This would make an excellent naval base."

"The Ironclad Fleet will cruise Southeast Asia from here, patrolling our ten thousand miles of territorial sea—"

"Why would you need ironclads for Southeast Asia? Light colonial cruisers would suffice."

"Exactly. The colonial cruiser in my mind must be: hybrid sail-and-steam, unarmored, long-ranged, with at least one large-caliber gun for shore bombardment against uncooperative natives. And the cabin space must be ample—room for at least a company of marines plus their artillery, ready to go ashore and suppress disturbances at a moment's notice."

...

Meanwhile, the rowboats measured depths as they advanced into the inner harbor.

"Over there is Yulin Market." Ming Qiu pointed to an open tract on the western shore. On the eastern bank stood a market town protected by a sizable wooden stockade. According to his memory, this should be Anyoule Market. By the look of it, perhaps a hundred households lived there. A scattering of small vessels lay at anchor near the shore.

"Let's dock on the east side—there are people there. We can ask around."

The fleet dropped anchor below Anyoule Market. At the sight of two large ships arriving, everyone visible around the stockade fled behind its walls. By the time the team's small boats neared the beach, the area was deserted.

"Looks like pirates visit often."

The party disembarked and walked to the stockade gate. Wang Luobin gestured for the Foreign Affairs interpreter accompanying them to call out. After a protracted exchange, the residents finally unbarred the gate.

Anyoule Market was a large settlement where Han and Li people lived side by side. Because South Seas–bound ships often sheltered here—and because drifting cargo from shipwrecks could sometimes be salvaged—people had occupied this site since the Tang Dynasty. As the last anchorage before the open ocean, the wealth and demand generated by maritime traffic had gradually fostered a market town.

The local strongman was a member of the gentry named Hu Xun. After the transmigrators presented their tried-and-true gifts—pocket mirrors, white sugar, and distilled spirits—his manner softened noticeably. He mentioned, almost in passing, that he was a descendant of the Hu family of Shuinan Village in Yazhou.

"Could the venerable sir be a descendant of Master Dan'an himself? How remiss of me! How remiss!" Wang Tao, who had accompanied Wang Luobin ashore, feigned astonishment and cupped his hands in salute. A hobbyist storyteller, he had a knack for picking up dialects; by now he had mastered several local tongues. Hu Xun spoke the regional guanhua—Hainan dialect—which was among the more comprehensible variants.

Hu Xun was visibly pleased, declaring repeatedly that he "disgraced his ancestors." His attitude toward the visitors warmed several degrees further. He then inquired as to their business.

Wang Tao followed the rehearsed script: they were merchants specializing in the South Seas trade. The journey was perilous, and they wished to purchase land here—enough for a warehouse and a manor where they might store goods and rest between voyages.

Hu Xun waved a hand. "Easy to discuss, easy to discuss." Land was the one commodity in abundance here. If someone wanted to build, he, as local Baojia head, would naturally benefit. These newcomers did not look like virtuous men—those two big ships were obviously contraband—but so long as they refrained from robbery and murder, what illegal commerce they conducted was none of his affair. Local strongmen like himself had long practiced the art of looking the other way.

After taking their leave, Mont asked Wang Tao, "Who is Master Dan'an?"

"Master Dan'an is the famous Hu Quan." Seeing Mont's blank expression, Wang Tao elaborated: "He was exiled to Hainan for impeaching Qin Hui."

"A figure of legend." Mont's voice held reverence.

Wang Luobin laughed. "You were laying it on rather thick. Hu Quan didn't die in Hainan—he eventually returned to his hometown in Jiangxi. How could he have left descendants here?"

"Old Hu styles himself a Hu of Shuinan Village, clearly implying descent from Hu Quan. I seized the opportunity to flatter him. Cost me nothing."

The group strolled down the streets of Anyoule Market. Despite boasting only a single lane of less than five hundred meters, the place was surprisingly bustling. Shops lined both sides. As the final resting point before the South Seas, many vessels lingered here—waiting out storms or monsoons—and over time, all manner of entertainment had sprung up, including a brothel.

Wang Luobin noticed an unusual number of blacksmith shops. Upon inquiry, he learned their customers were mainly the nearby Li villages and ships undergoing repairs.

"It seems Tiandu Iron Mine has already been discovered," Wang Tao remarked.

"Not Tiandu itself, but Yazhou has been famous for iron production since antiquity," Wang Luobin replied.

Ming Qiu added, "Back when I visited Yazhou Town, there was a Blacksmith Street—nothing but smithies. Supposedly the earliest ones dated to the Southern Song."

"There must be scattered iron deposits in the area." Wang Tao questioned the smiths about where they sourced their pig iron. The answer: everything came overland from Yazhou.

"Good." Wang Luobin nodded. "If locals were already mining at Tiandu, we'd inevitably have to engage in some 'vigorous urban renewal.'"

"Even if they're not, it won't be easy, will it? The government has always opposed mining—issuing permanent bans at the drop of a hat."

"And yet they can never enforce them."

Over the following days, the transmigrators rowed out to survey the coastal terrain encircling Yulin Harbor and corrected their maps. They also conducted on-site reconnaissance for the future Yulin Fort, ultimately selecting a vacant tract on the harbor's western bank. This was the location of the future Yulin Base: sheltered from wind, supplied with fresh water, and blessed with level ground.

(End of Chapter)