Chapter 173: The Patrol Boat

“Why eat that stuff when there are lobsters in the sea?” Wu Nanhai expressed his disdain. “If you really like it, Australia has freshwater crayfish too. We can go eat them in Australia in the future. But I’d still rather have real sea lobster.”

Next, they discussed the issue of aquaculture. Lincheng had extensive mudflats, especially in the three bays of Bopu, Ma Niao, and Hongpai, which were the main areas for modern aquaculture in Lincheng. All three of these areas were currently under the direct or indirect control of the transmigrator group, providing a foundation for developing aquaculture.

“None of us know anything about aquaculture. No one has studied it, and no one has done it,” Wu Nanhai said. “I’m afraid we’ll have to find some books and learn it ourselves first. Besides, I think given the level of fishery production in this time and space, expanding the fishing fleet is much more meaningful than getting into aquaculture.”

“Let the fishermen do it. Early aquaculture was figured out by the fishermen themselves. Farming things like oysters and kelp mainly involves breeding seedlings and creating an artificial environment. The feed input is very limited, but the output is quite considerable.”

They didn’t reach any concrete conclusions on aquaculture because it was considered a type of fishery, which involved coordination with the Ministry of Maritime Forces. After much thought, Wu Nanhai decided it was better to have the Ministry of Maritime Forces collect more “fishing taxes.” If possible, they could organize a fishery cooperative for collectivized deep-sea fishing.

However, at this time, the situation in the Qiongzhou Strait was becoming turbulent. Chen Haiyang, the People’s Commissar for Maritime Forces, was staring at a sea chart in the captain’s room of the Fengcheng. This giant ship had been anchored here for nearly a year, becoming a symbol of the transmigrator group’s power from the very beginning. Even when they were holed up in their earthen enclosure in Bopu, the Fengcheng struck fear into everyone around.

For over half a year, apart from the two attacks by Zhu Cailao and Liu Xiang, no one had dared to challenge their presence in the Qiongzhou Strait. The small, reckless pirate gangs that used to operate near Lincheng had long been wiped out by them.

But now, the sailors on the Fengcheng were beginning to feel the pressure.

Small bands of pirates began to appear constantly in the Qiongzhou Strait, robbing any ship they saw and frequently landing to harass and plunder villages.

It wasn’t that such things hadn’t happened before, but they had never been so frequent. It had now reached the point where Yanchang Village had intrusion alarms once or twice a week, with landing parties ranging from 20 to 50 people each time. The entire village was constantly on edge, and the militia had to be on alert 24/7, which severely affected production. To protect the salt workers, the Army had already dispatched a platoon to garrison Yanchang Village. The ships transporting salt from the village to Bopu were also threatened. In early June, the Ministry of Maritime Forces lost a salt transport ship. The loss of several thousand jin of sea salt was one thing, but five or six people were killed or injured. By June, the attacks became even more frequent. The Ministry of Maritime Forces began to assign marines to every salt transport ship and adopted a convoy system. The transport ships from Ma Niao to Bopu traveled in fleets of ten, each escorted by an armed sailing ship. This finally suppressed the pirates trying to rob the salt ships.

The escort battles were not intense; often, the escort soldiers would fire a few shots, and the enemy would flee. But if the enemy had four or five ships, they might launch a determined attack, especially against the salt transport convoys. To ensure safety, the armament on the escort sailing ships was upgraded to cannons. It became difficult to repel these desperate, red-eyed pirates without using canister shot.

Chen Haiyang quickly realized that the Ministry of Maritime Forces had little power to spare for maintaining maritime supremacy in the Lincheng waters. In terms of numbers, the Ministry had plenty of ships, but they were a motley collection of various vessels found in the Guangdong seas. Their general characteristic was that they were relatively small, with displacements ranging from 15 to 100 tons, and their conditions varied. Since most of them were used for transport, they were generally unarmed. The only ones that could be called warships were the four Type 8154 fishing trawlers that formed the core of the navy, their self-modified lateen-rigged fishing boat “Dengyingzhou,” their first self-built fast sailing ship “Zhenhai,” and the captured and refitted two-masted sailing ship “Fubo.” The latter three had been fitted with diesel engines.

Chen Haiyang mobilized his main forces for several patrol and suppression operations, and even conducted several sting operations, sinking and capturing over twenty assorted vessels and killing or capturing several hundred men. From interrogating the prisoners, he learned that most of them came from various maritime gangs in the Fujian seas. Unable to withstand the joint suppression by the government forces and Zheng Zhilong, they had scattered and fled to the Guangdong seas. Since the Pearl River Delta was also a key area for the Ming army’s suppression efforts, and the Portuguese were concerned about their shipping lanes being blocked, they had also dispatched large ships to patrol the delta. Many small pirate groups couldn’t gain a foothold and had to continue west to areas with less pressure.

From the captives, the Executive Committee learned the latest maritime developments: it was confirmed that after Zheng Zhilong’s pacification, Xu Xinsu and Yang Liu had been killed at the end of 1628. Most of the other small and medium-sized pirate leaders like Chen Shengyu and Zhou San had been eliminated or absorbed by him. The battle between Li Kuiqi and Zheng Zhilong was still ongoing. The transmigrators’ main concern, Zhu Cailao, had run off to Fujian to stir up trouble, repeatedly attacking Tong’an, apparently trying to fish in the troubled waters of the Fujian seas. According to the pirates, Zhu Cailao had been absorbing scattered remnants of various groups along the way, and his forces had grown considerably. He was preying on foreign ships in the Fujian seas and had made a fortune.

Chen Haiyang thought this was probably a chain reaction. As Zheng Zhilong fought and absorbed various maritime groups in the Fujian seas, more and more scattered vessels would inevitably flee to the Qiongzhou Strait.

This was a good opportunity to absorb these men and ships. Chen Haiyang was already calculating. He wasn’t particularly interested in the ships, but these experienced sailors would be extremely useful as naval soldiers. Training farmers from the land to become sailors was never as good as using these men born and raised on the sea.

As for whether this group of pirates could become qualified naval warriors, Chen Haiyang wasn’t worried. That was a matter for Wei Aiwen of the Political Department—this brand-new institution was proposed by Ma Qianzhu, under the General Staff, and was responsible for political work in the army. Wei Aiwen had been nominated for this new post due to his outstanding performance in political propaganda in the teaching battalion. He was also the commander of the General Staff’s new recruit training camp. After enlistment, new recruits would first receive 90 days of basic training and political education here.

However, to achieve this goal, he still needed to strengthen the patrol forces in the Lincheng waters. The Zhenhai and Fubo were originally tasked with long-range armed transport to Changhua and Yulin. Using them for security patrols was not a problem in the short term, but over time, it would affect the transport on the island-circling route—especially the supply of coconuts and timber.

“What we need now is not a fleet, but a sufficient number of patrol boats to maintain maritime security along the Lincheng coast.”

“We could select some of the better-conditioned miscellaneous ships from our inventory and arm them with cannons to serve as patrol boats.” This was essentially the current form of their armed sailing ships. “And add diesel engines for increased mobility.”

“No, these ships are too small. It’s a waste to install diesel engines—I’m even reluctant to give them cannons,” Chen Haiyang quickly dismissed this suggestion. The modernization of the shipyard’s equipment, the increasing skill of the technical workers, and the growing number of devices the machine factory could provide had greatly inflated his ambitions.

“I want a small, but professional, standing patrol fleet,” he stated his demand clearly at an Executive Committee meeting. “The current hodgepodge navy only has a deterrent effect in the Qiongzhou Strait; it lacks execution capability.”

Because these miscellaneous ships had no performance advantage, and they had fewer experienced sailors than their opponents, they had to rely on superior firepower to offset the disadvantage. But these ships were not designed to carry cannons, making it difficult to install multiple guns, and they were extremely inconvenient to use.

Finally, the Executive Committee approved an emergency shipbuilding project, ordering the Bopu Naval Shipyard to concentrate all its manpower and resources to immediately build five triangular-sailed patrol boats. These ships were modeled on the concept of the pirate chasers built by the British Royal Navy in the 17th-19th centuries. They used a single-masted lateen sail and had a shallow draft, making them suitable for combat in rugged coastal terrain and shallow waters. To facilitate rapid maneuvering in calm or unfavorable winds, they were also equipped with multiple pairs of oars.

The British pirate chasers could have a displacement of up to 113 tons, but the ship designed by Wen Desi had a standard displacement of only half that—it was an inspiration, not a copy. After all, the purpose of these ships was only for the Qiongzhou Strait, and at most the coast of Hainan Island in the future. Long-range performance was not a major consideration.

The new patrol boat’s displacement was reduced to 60 tons to speed up construction. The single-masted lateen sail design was retained because it was very suitable for the variable wind conditions of coastal areas. The rigging and control system was entirely copied from the yachts brought from the North American branch—except that hand-cranked hoists replaced electric motors. The ship was also equipped with three pairs of long oars to provide additional propulsion and faster turning.

The entire ship adopted a central island layout. The fore and aft decks were each equipped with a 12-pounder M1857 smoothbore cannon, modified for naval use, installed in an open barbette on the deck, similar to the Zhenhai. According to Wen Desi’s calculations, even with inadequately trained gunners, each gun could fire once per minute. Based on experience from several sea battles, the ammunition loadout included more incendiary shells, high-explosive shells, and canister shot, as well as chain shot specifically for targeting masts.

Because the pirates the patrol boats would face favored boarding actions as their primary combat tactic, and a small ship with a small crew would be at a disadvantage, the ships were also fitted with a superweapon specifically for dealing with dense formations of personnel: the multi-barreled gun.

The multi-barreled gun was not a machine gun. Although it could fire continuously for a short period, it had no automatic mechanism. In essence, it was a weapon that integrated many rifle barrels to achieve a rapid-fire effect by firing them sequentially. This strange weapon was once very popular in Europe.

The weapon designed by Li Yunxing basically replicated the old structure, consisting of 16 barrels. To reduce manufacturing costs, the barrels were made from seamless steel pipes mass-produced by the rolling mill, which were then rifled. It was loaded with Minie paper cartridges and used percussion caps. The caliber was 14mm—a size inherited from the seamless boiler tubes brought from the modern world to serve as Minie rifle barrels. It had a maximum range of 400 meters and an effective range of 100 meters.

A major drawback of the multi-barreled gun was the difficulty of reloading; it was almost impossible to reload this weapon in combat. Later, a complete ammunition system was developed. The gun body was divided into two parts: the barrel assembly and the cartridge plate. The cartridge plate could be detached and replaced as a whole, allowing for rapid reloading. The idea was similar to changing the entire cylinder to reload a revolver.

The resulting product was very heavy. Those who wanted to use this gun as a “machine gun” thought its enormous size made it unlikely for army use. Historically, this type of multi-barreled gun required a two-wheeled gun carriage for land mobility, weighing nearly as much as a light cannon but lacking its power and range. So it was quickly phased out of field armies.

Naval vessels are relatively insensitive to weight. The multi-barreled gun used a gimbaled mount on the ship’s deck, allowing it to be easily aimed in any direction. The mount had a sliding track to absorb some of the recoil. An improved firing mechanism was also installed: a hammer-based firing device similar to a typewriter keyboard, which allowed the gunner to control the rate of fire. After a few practice runs, Li Yunxing was even able to fire in bursts. This weapon earned the nickname “the Typewriter.” Each multi-barreled gun team carried a standard of 12 cartridge plates. To protect the gunner, an iron gun shield was also installed.

In addition to this fearsome close-combat weapon, the patrol boats were also fitted with an ancient but effective method to prevent enemy boarding: anti-boarding nets on both sides of the ship. The handheld shotguns, which had proven effective in anti-bandit combat, were also issued as standard equipment for close-quarters fighting on deck.

The ships were not initially fitted with engines, but space and structural provisions were made for future upgrades. The planned engines were single or twin-cylinder diesel engines, which could be started quickly, suiting the needs of a patrol boat.

Some questioned the effectiveness of such a small vessel, with a full complement of only 30 men. But Chen Haiyang believed that for security duties like escort and patrol in the Qiongzhou Strait, this type of ship was sufficient—no one expected them to engage in fleet battles.

In early June 1629, the Bopu Naval Shipyard laid down five iron keels on the slipways, beginning construction simultaneously. The patrol boats were the first to use an iron-frame, wooden-hull structure. The keel and ribs were all made of rolled iron. The steel plant mass-produced the keels and ribs according to the design drawings. The entire construction period was reduced by more than two-thirds compared to using wooden keels and ribs.

Many modern design concepts were introduced during the construction of the patrol boats. The hull shape was designed on a computer by Wen Desi and several ship model enthusiasts, using virtual shipbuilding software and a vast fluid dynamics database. The Engineering and Energy Committee attempted to implement standardized construction. The various wooden planks used for shipbuilding were standardized in size and shape and mass-produced in workshops using woodworking machinery. Wen Desi even made a preliminary attempt at modular construction; some of the larger components of the ship were built on the ground and then lifted onto the ship for installation. The lateen sails were custom-ordered in Macau through the Jesuits. The Jesuits wrote back to inform them that the sailmakers they needed were on their way from Europe to Macau. If all went well, and these men did not encounter storms, diseases, or pirates on the way, they would arrive in a year and a half.

The Ministry of Maritime Forces built ships and prepared for war. Chen Haiyang seized the opportunity for large-scale training through combat, sending naval cadets, non-commissioned officers, and new recruits onto the armed sailing ships. Since short voyages didn’t require much consideration for food and water, it was fine to cram more people on board. The Zhenhai and Fubo also remained on high alert, patrolling the strait between Lincheng and Xuwen daily. For a time, the coast of Lincheng was a forest of masts, giving off a strong sense of military might.

Soon, the first five patrol boats were launched. The entire construction period was less than 20 days. Wen Desi ordered all efforts to be concentrated on fitting out one boat first as a prototype, to be put into combat as soon as possible to identify problems for further improvement.

Le Lin now sat on the bridge of this brand-new patrol boat. Under the sun awning was a rattan high-back captain’s chair fixed to the deck, and it could even rotate—this was a gift carefully designed by Wu Kuangming for the Ministry of Maritime Forces and was also part of the shipbuilding standardization measures. This chair, very comfortable in the Lincheng climate, soon became a symbol of naval authority. So much so that “sitting in the rattan chair” later became a slang term in the transmigrator nation’s navy, meaning to become a captain.

His command flag was fluttering from the mast. The newly completed patrol boat, No. 101, was the flagship of this patrol squadron. The beautiful lateen sail was fully unfurled. On deck, marines armed with the new naval model of the Minie rifle were on duty. The naval model had a shorter barrel, suitable for use on deck. From the open barbettes on the fore and aft decks, identical to the “Zhenhai,” protruded the dark muzzles of the cannons.

An experimental weapon was also installed at the rear of the bridge, namely Li Yunxing’s “machine gun”—several “Typewriters” had been manufactured and were being installed on ships for testing. Patrol boat 101 had the honor of being one of the first vessels to be equipped with this weapon.

“It finally looks like a warship,” Le Lin said with satisfaction. His gaze shifted from the cannons to the ships flanking him. Although they were all slightly dilapidated fishing boats with patched hard sails, the three-ship formation spread out on the sea had the air of a naval squadron. In his mind’s eye, he saw himself in a white, gold-trimmed naval admiral’s uniform, his chest covered with Korean-style medals, standing on the bridge of a battleship. On the sea beside him, a line of battleships, arranged in an echelon formation, rode the waves under the morning sun…