Chapter 174: The Five-Masted Ship

In the past, he had always sailed on the most common locally built 70-ton lateen-rigged fishing boats. The transmigrators had a considerable number of these vessels, primarily used for transport, but they also occasionally served as patrol boats—chasing down fishing boats that refused to pay the fishing tax, cracking down on small pirate gangs that preyed on fishermen, and protecting passing merchant ships.

Recently, the Ministry of Maritime Forces had launched a “Maritime Security Rectification Month.” From dawn to dusk, the Ministry’s ships patrolled the dozens of kilometers of coastline between Bopu and Ma Niao. This had led to a significant increase in patrol sorties, and ships originally used for transport were now diverted to patrol duty. To ensure numerical superiority, the ships operated in groups of three to five. Each group had at least one or two ships equipped with cannons—many of which were temporarily borrowed from the Army.

These ships looked rather shabby. On the deck was a temporarily borrowed Army 12-pounder M1857 cannon, simply tied down to the foredeck with ropes. A gun emplacement was built around the cannon with straw sacks filled with wet sand. Among the marines were gray-uniformed gunners on loan from the Army, as the Navy did not have enough gunners of its own.

“I wish all our patrol boats were like the 101,” Le Lin said. This was his first time sailing on it, and he was full of praise for its performance—it was light, agile, and the sails utilized the wind with high efficiency. No wonder Chief Wen said the lateen sail was the most suitable sail type for coastal navigation.

Just then, the lookout suddenly shouted:

“Contact, three o’clock!”

Le Lin quickly raised the binoculars hanging on his chest and looked. Two or three nautical miles away, a dozen or so small boats were surrounding a large ship. The large ship was a common type of large junk found along the Chinese coast, with a considerable tonnage of four to five hundred tons. Le Lin was quite surprised—the Qiongzhou Strait was not a necessary route for foreign ships, and it was rare to see such a large ocean-going trading vessel. These ships usually stopped for rest at Shenying Port in Qiongshan County, or sometimes went directly to Yulin before stopping. They wouldn’t venture into the waters off Lincheng and Chengmai.

“How can there be such a large ship?” Le Lin couldn’t believe his eyes and quickly adjusted the magnification to its maximum of eight times.

The large ship was tilted to one side, aground on a sandbar. Its sails were still up but were very tattered. Through the binoculars, he could see many people climbing onto the large ship. The deck was crowded with people, and smoke and flashes of fire occasionally rose from it.

It was a pirate robbery! Le Lin was instantly excited—the tedious patrols and arrests finally had some fresh spice! This was a great opportunity for some real action!

“Battle stations!” he shouted.

The drummer, who had been on standby on the poop deck, immediately beat a rapid tattoo. The sailors and soldiers on deck sprang into action. Petty officers blew their whistles, and off-duty sailors and marines poured out from below deck.

“Port rudder, fifteen degrees! Full speed ahead!” Le Lin shouted majestically, gripping the railing.

“Fifteen degrees, port!” the helmsman repeated the command, turning the wheel. The Ministry of Maritime Forces had already converted all its ships over 50 tons with good hulls to wheel steering.

The signalman on the poop deck also sent orders to the flanking ships. The accompanying 108 and 111 immediately began to turn their rudders.

“Lower oars one, three, and five!” Ruan Xiaowu shouted. Although Le Lin’s command was impressive, the ship had no engine. “Full speed ahead” meant lowering the three pairs of oars and using manpower to increase speed.

Ruan Xiaowu was now a proper naval cadet. After returning from the circumnavigation of the island, all the participating naval cadets had been promoted. Although he was only fifteen, he already had the silver sleeve braid of a cadet on his sleeve. This insignia clearly distinguished him in status from the sailors on deck. The sailors had to salute him. However, he still did not have to pay for officer’s mess and ate the same rationed meals as the soldiers.

His naval uniform also had an extra sleeve stripe—the “First Circumnavigation Commemorative Stripe,” which everyone who participated in the voyage received. Ruan Xiaowu felt that this uniform, which he had once found awkward, now looked incredibly dashing. He often wore it neatly and strolled through Dongmen Market on his leave days, looking at the bustling crowd and thinking how rustic they were—he had already forgotten what he looked like when he first arrived in Lincheng.

Today, he was the officer of the watch on the 101, responsible for the second morning watch, from 4 a.m. to 8 a.m. As soon as the battle alarm sounded, Ruan Xiaowu’s throat tightened—it was time for a fight! And against pirates!

As a boy from a fishing family, Ruan Xiaowu was no stranger to pirates. Small pirate gangs, unable to rob large ships, would prey on defenseless single fishing boats, often stealing their catch. The most terrifying thing was that pirates would often force fishermen to join their crew, sometimes taking the men and their boats with them. This was especially true when the pirates were about to fight among themselves or face a government siege. This kind of forced conscription would reach its peak at such times. Several of Ruan Xiaowu’s relatives had met with such misfortune: they either lost their lives or their boats. In the end, Ruan Xiaowu’s own father was captured and forced to become a pirate. He died when his ship was destroyed in a government siege, leaving his family destitute. Therefore, he had a particular hatred for pirates. In his file, he was classified as “extremely firm in his stance” and had been recruited by the General Political Security Department as a member of the “Ten-Man Group” in the Navy.

Propelled by the sailors rowing in shifts, the patrol fleet’s speed increased to 5 knots.

“Fire a warning shot!” Le Lin ordered.

A puff of white smoke immediately erupted from the deck gun, and the deafening roar of the cannon echoed across the sea. But the pirate ships surrounding the large vessel seemed unfazed. Through his binoculars, Le Lin saw people hastily moving things from the large ship to the small boats, while others on the decks of the small boats were fiddling with long, firearm-like objects.

Because the transmigrator group was also a local power, small pirate gangs were generally unwilling to engage them directly. Le Lin had encountered many situations where the enemy simply fled without a fight. If they raised their sails from three or four nautical miles away, his fleet couldn’t catch them. But from the looks of the enemy now, they didn’t seem to be planning to run.

Le Lin estimated the distance was still about one and a half nautical miles. The 12-pounder cannon had the range, but it wasn’t accurate. Firing or not firing made little difference.

Perhaps the cargo on the ship hadn’t been fully looted, or perhaps they saw that there were only three approaching ships. A portion of the small boats surrounding the large vessel suddenly turned and charged aggressively towards the fleet.

“The enemy is showing signs of attack!” Ruan Xiaowu shouted. “Prepare to engage!”

“They’ve got guts, or the loot is really good,” Le Lin saw through his binoculars that several other ships were still unloading cargo. It seemed the enemy was prepared to protect their prize at all costs.

“Looks like we’re in for a fight,” Le Lin’s adrenaline surged. “Armor up!” he shouted.

His orderly quickly brought his anti-stab vest, knee pads, steel helmet, and anti-cut chainmail gloves from the poop deck cabin and helped him put them on. Le Lin took the final item, a replica of a U.S. Navy officer’s sword, drew it with a flourish, and waved it.

“Order all ships, prepare for battle!”

The red triangular battle flag was raised. The combat personnel on all ships took their positions. Soldiers began to load their rifles. Sailors brought up the ready-use powder from the hold in iron canisters—no powder was kept near the guns during combat. At the gun positions, the cannons were loaded with powder, and friction primers were inserted. The cannonballs were placed next to the second gunner. The gunner locked a heavy cartridge plate onto the “Typewriter” and cocked it, ready to fire. The marines’ rifles had no bayonets—they were impractical to use on a ship. Instead, they were armed with the Navy Model 1629 cutlass—a replica of the infamous Rwandan banana machete, issued in small numbers to naval vessels.

“Single file, gain the weather gage!” As a naval enthusiast, Le Lin steadfastly followed the Royal Navy’s traditional practice of seizing the upwind position and initiating the attack.

“Steady! Do not fire without orders,” Le Lin’s hands and feet were cold. He almost gave the order in Cantonese again.

At that moment, a scattered crackling sound, like firecrackers, came from the enemy ships. Puffs of white smoke rose from their fleet. Le Lin had seen this habit of firing before coming into range many times. Even the transmigrators’ own trained soldiers had this habit initially. It seemed firearms were used for courage. The Army and Navy had invested a great deal of effort in training to overcome this problem.

“Distance, five cables!” the spotter continuously reported the enemy’s position.

“Signal 108 and 111 to follow the flagship closely.”

Once the battle began, Le Lin’s so-called command became meaningless. Like all naval commanders before the invention of the radio, once engaged, the actions of each ship depended entirely on the judgment of its captain. In the Admiralty, the “melee” faction had no market; it was the world of the “formation” faction.

At a distance of three cables, the patrol boat 101 fired a solid shot. The cannonball flew over the undulating boats and landed in the sea, throwing up a column of water. A naval gunner using a rangefinder immediately measured the distance of the splash. The gunner quickly adjusted the cannon’s elevation.

Immediately after, the other two ships also opened fire. A sampan was hit, and wooden splinters flew several meters high.

“Good shot! Maintain fire!”

The fleet cut across the front of the pirate fleet, employing the “crossing the T” tactic. In addition to the 12-pounder cannons on the three patrol boats, the 1-pounder “eagle” cannons used for anti-personnel fire and the marines’ rifles unleashed a fierce barrage on the large and small vessels. The sea was shrouded in a cloud of gunpowder smoke. Flashes of fire from the weapons could be seen intermittently.

The patrol boats’ cannons had all switched to canister shot. Based on the Navy’s experience in several battles, at a distance of 50 to 100 meters, canister shot was more effective against the small pirate gangs along the mainland coast. The ships of these poor pirates were almost all made of ordinary wood of limited thickness, which could not withstand canister shot. Their habit of congregating on deck, waiting for an opportunity to board, also presented an opportunity to sweep the decks with canister.

“Hard to starboard! Adjust course to eleven o’clock and come around for another pass!” The smoke on the deck had cleared. Le Lin was careful not to get too close to the enemy ships as he turned back to cross the T again.

The agility of the 101 was on full display during this turn. The lateen sail was brought into the wind in a matter of minutes, propelling the patrol boat into a sharp turn. The hull listed heavily at one point, and spray hit Le Lin in the face.

In contrast, the two lateen-rigged fishing boats were much slower to turn. It took more than ten minutes for the three ships to complete the turn and reform their formation.

The smoke had cleared. In the chaotic exchange of fire, the three ships had suffered almost no substantial damage, only the large and small holes in their sails testified to the rapidity of the pirates’ return fire. But the pirates’ losses were clearly much greater. Several long sampans were beginning to sink, while other larger vessels were littered with corpses, having suffered heavy casualties.

The surviving pirates jumped into the water, trying to swim to the other ships in their fleet. But the men on the other ships, now aware of the enemy’s strength, were only thinking of their own escape and had no intention of rescuing their comrades. Not a single rope was thrown to help them aboard. The pirates fired randomly while turning to flee. The pirates who were still looting the large ship were left behind as their comrades cut the ropes and sailed away. The abandoned men on the deck shouted. Some jumped desperately, trying to swim to safety, only to be killed by the fall onto the sandbar. The area around the large ship descended into chaos.

The patrol fleet’s second round of firing began. This time, a chain shot from the 101 hit the mast of a single-masted sailing ship, immediately disabling it. It drifted before them, packed with people, a perfect target.

“Fire the ‘Typewriter’!” Le Lin had long wanted to test the power of this new weapon.

Two specially trained sailors braced their shoulders and pulled the firing lever.

The violent vibration of the Typewriter’s firing nearly made Le Lin fall over. The bridge was immediately shrouded in a thick cloud of smoke. The sound of the gun was deafening.

The Typewriter had a strong recoil, and the muzzle shook violently. It let out a terrifying roar, and long tongues of flame spewed from the muzzle through the smoke. The bullets swept across the deck. Heads, limbs, and other body parts were torn apart by the 14mm lead bullets and scattered in all directions. Even the smoke turned pink—it was a slaughter.

There was no need to use cannons or anything else to finish it off. After the Typewriter had emptied three cartridge plates into it, the ship drifted lifelessly on the water, with no signs of life.

The machine gunners loaded a fourth cartridge plate. By now, the entire “Typewriter” had become very hot, with blue smoke rising from the muzzle. The gunners had to put on thick gloves to continue operating it.

“Fire on the sampan at four o’clock,” Le Lin ordered. Four or five sampans were rapidly rowing towards the shore. He wanted to observe the accuracy of the “Typewriter.” Given the violent vibrations, he suspected its accuracy was poor.

As expected, the bullets from the “Typewriter” were indeed “spraying.” The first few shots went far wide of the small boat. But once it was on target, the effect was satisfying. The small boat was riddled with bullets and began to sink. After a few minutes, the wooden stock of the multi-barreled gun became too hot to handle, and the firing stopped.

“That’s fierce,” Le Lin wiped the sweat from his forehead. The two “machine gunners” were covered in black powder soot. Blue smoke was rising from the entire gun barrel and body, and there was a smell of burning.

“It seems we didn’t fire that many rounds,” Le Lin inspected. The “Typewriter” had only fired ten cartridge plates. A Minie rifle barrel could fire fifteen or sixteen shots continuously in combat without overheating to this extent.

This battle, like previous naval encounters, turned into a rout. The pirates scattered as soon as the situation turned against them. Le Lin did not dare to disperse his forces to pursue them vigorously. He only led his squadron to chase the largest of them, a two-masted ship, and eventually forced it to lower its sails and surrender with cannon fire, capturing sixty or seventy prisoners. About half of the ships still managed to escape.

Even so, the sea around the sandbar had turned into a slaughterhouse. The water was littered with all kinds of wreckage, derelict boats, and floating corpses. Le Lin’s squadron also picked up dozens of pirates who were still calling for help and gasping for air from the surrounding sea.

But his main concern was the large junk aground on the sandbar. What was the origin of this ship that had suddenly appeared in the Qiongzhou Strait?

As a precaution, he personally led one ship to stand guard while sending the 111 back to Bopu to report and request engineers to inspect whether the ship could be refloated. If so, this would be a huge prize.

Le Lin sent men ashore on the sandbar to check for any remaining enemies in hiding. The sandbar was strewn with all kinds of boxes and baskets, some of which had broken open, revealing their contents—mostly valuable goods like porcelain and silk, as well as baskets of medicinal herbs. This was likely a typical ocean-going trading vessel on its way to Southeast Asia.

“Ruan Xiaowu, immediately organize twenty marines and sailors,” Le Lin ordered. “Prepare the equipment and get ready to board!”

“Yes, sir!” Ruan Xiaowu saluted and quickly went to prepare the grappling hooks and ropes for boarding.

Le Lin instructed his men to clean up the battlefield, gather all the cargo, and load it onto the ships. They inspected the boats still floating on the sea one by one. Those with salvage value were repaired slightly and towed back. Those without value were scuttled.

Ruan Xiaowu, with a cutlass on his back and a Derringer pistol in his belt, spat on his palms, took a leap, and grabbed a thick rope hanging from the ship’s side. He led the way, climbing up first—”leading by example” was a fundamental principle of the transmigrator group’s officer education. His men followed one after another.

On the wide deck of the large junk, there were signs of a fierce battle. There were bloodstains and corpses everywhere, as well as cargo scattered during the looting.