Part 252: The Lichun

“Unfortunately, no finished product has arrived yet, so we have to leave it empty for now,” Zhou Ke said with regret.

“Well, warships of the past fought just fine without this stuff. Nelson didn’t have a fire control director either,” Lin Shenhe remarked. He knew this was just a case of someone’s geeky enthusiasm getting out of hand. Given their current industrial capabilities and the performance of their potential enemies’ ships and guns, the Navy’s warships would be engaging at a maximum range of 2,000 meters. They had no need for a ballistic computer; equipping gunners with telescopes, firing tables, and slide rules was already a god-tier technology.

Climbing the tech tree to such a super-god-tier level was clearly not that easy, as the empty fire control tower proved.

But that wasn’t his problem. He was only responsible for the guns and shells. What kind of sighting equipment to use was a matter for the precision instruments department to consider.

As the tour was ending, a question suddenly occurred to Lin Shenhe:

“Has this ship been named yet?”

“Not yet. The Navy says they’ll hold a naming ceremony after the sea trials are complete.”

“Has the Navy mentioned any potential names?”

“I heard someone suggested Yukikaze or Shigure…”

“Damn, that’s some serious nerd humor,” Lin Shenhe said, goosebumps rising on his skin. There were quite a few IJN fans in the Navy. With suggestions like Yukikaze and Shigure, it was a given that a nomination for Nowaki would also appear.

“I think we should use the names of mountains, like Taishan, Taihang, or Kunlun. That has a certain grandeur!” Zhou Ke said, gesturing emphatically.

Lin Shenhe shook his head. “A ship of this small size probably can’t live up to those names.” He actually preferred names like “Dreadnought,” “Indomitable,” “Furious,” or “Enterprise,” but the 1630-class was equally unworthy of such imposing titles. Even if building a 10,000-ton battleship in this era was a bit of a pointless exercise, a ship would need to be at least in the four-to-five-thousand-ton class to carry such a name with dignity. In comparison, names with the same feel as Shigure were more appropriate.

The installation of the guns on the first ship of the 1630-class took three days, during which nearly half of the Senators from the machine department were mobilized to solve problems, especially all the Senators with fitter’s certificates. Constantly repairing and fitting parts became the main theme of the installation work. To improve efficiency, several mobile equipment units were brought to the assembly site at the pier. The gun carriages, tracks, and even the mounting bolts gave Zhou Ke endless trouble. Standardization had been promoted for over two years, but it was still plagued with problems in practice—the workers weren’t skilled enough, and the materials were even less reliable.

Zhou Ke remained calm throughout. Having overseen the shipbuilding and outfitting plan, he was used to the endless stream of problems. In his own words, “When installing equipment, I never expect it to work on the first try.”

Through everyone’s collective efforts, all the guns were finally installed and functioning properly. Although they hadn’t managed to create a ballistic computer, they did manage to equip the ship with some simple fire control equipment like artillery slide rules and observation scopes before the official sea trials began.

The artillery observation scopes were made by Lin Hanlong. They were mainly used as aiming sights. Structurally, they were Keplerian telescopes, which were not difficult to manufacture. However, to achieve a wide field of view and good light transmission, a larger aperture was needed. This was challenging for Lin Hanlong, but not insurmountable.

The most difficult part was sealing the lens barrel. Lacking balsam optical cement and rubber gaskets, they had to resort to complex copper gaskets, vulcanized leather pads, and a final layer of Gutta-percha for sealing. Although the proposal to widely plant Eucommia trees as a substitute for rubber had been rejected, Gutta-percha was still used on a small scale for less demanding applications. Fortunately, Eucommia had always been cultivated in China, making it easy to collect the raw material.

The cushioning structure for mounting the lens barrel was made of vulcanized leather. While its performance was not ideal, it was serviceable. The lenses were originally planned to be made of lead glass or natural fused quartz—Hainan itself had rich deposits of natural quartz—but after several experimental smelting attempts, Lin Hanlong was unable to produce a suitable product and had to make do with the existing ones.

The rangefinder was originally a key project for the optics workshop, but Lin Hanlong discovered many problems during his experiments that were currently insurmountable—especially the lack of high-quality optical glass and processing methods. Even if they managed to build one at this stage, they couldn’t guarantee its quality.

The Planning Commission’s warehouse contained a batch of one-meter rangefinders for 37mm guns and half-meter rangefinders for mortars, purchased from military surplus stores on Taobao in the old world. They had a range of four to five thousand meters, with enough accuracy for naval guns, and there were nearly a hundred of them. However, the Navy ultimately decided not to use this “precision equipment.”

“For military equipment, as long as it’s usable, we must rely on domestic production,” stated Minister of the Navy Ming Qiu at a technical meeting for the Type 854 Mod.

In the end, the artillery rangefinder was simplified to a system using a simple angle dial. Specifically, an angle dial with a sight was installed at the bow and stern. By aiming the sights at the target, the distance could be calculated from the difference in the angles displayed at the bow and stern—a technique that emerged in the 19th century and was well-suited to the current technological level of the Senate’s Navy.

Other fire control equipment included a wind vane and an anemometer to measure crosswinds and headwinds. Wind direction and speed were important reference data for calculating firing solutions.

The final piece of equipment was the quadrant, made of tin brass. It was used to measure the gun’s inclination angle in the vertical plane from 0 to 1500 mils (0° to 90°), to check the gun’s sighting device, and to set the gun to the required firing elevation. In conjunction with rangefinding and plotting, it could be used to determine the enemy ship’s speed. Its more important function was on the command platform, where limit stops could be added to the quadrant to determine the gun’s safety boundaries, preventing friendly fire during intense combat.

After all the fire control equipment was installed, the ship finally received its long-awaited name: “Lichun” (Start of Spring). This sparked a discussion among the Senators about whether this meant 24 ships of the 1630-class would be built. Naval personnel cheered, while the Army grew anxious. The Planning Commission’s spokesperson responded in the Senate, “There are currently no plans to build a second batch of the 1630-class.” However, he admitted that preliminary work for laying the keel of the second 1630-class ship had already begun, pending the Senate’s approval of the budget for the “Second Ship Outfitting Plan.”

Nevertheless, the ship’s name clearly indicated that the Navy General Staff had plans for even larger warships in the works. The Navy denied this, with Minister of the Navy Chen Haiyang stating, “There are currently no plans to build a new class of warship.”

On August 10th, 200 crew members and shipyard technicians and workers boarded the warship and conducted the first sea trial under the command of Outfitting Commissioner Li Di. On August 11th, the ship conducted its scheduled 360-degree turns and speed change tests in the Qiongzhou Strait. That night, it anchored at Red Brand Harbor on the Ma Niao Peninsula. On August 12th, the “Lichun,” escorted by two Type 8154 cruisers, conducted its full-speed trials in the same waters, including sailing under both steam and sail in various sea conditions.

On August 22nd, Captain Li Ziping, formerly of the Haitian, was appointed as the first captain of the “Lichun.” A series of further sea trials followed. On August 29th, the ship conducted firing and ballistic tests of its 130mm main guns near Red Brand Islet. The fore and aft main guns fired a salvo towards the islet 4 kilometers away, and the distant roar of the cannons could be heard even in Ma Niao Fort.

On September 1st, the “Lichun” returned to Bopu after completing its firing trials. Eight days later, the ship was officially completed and commissioned into the Navy, with its naval ensign raised. Its registered home port was the naval base of Kaohsiung.

Of course, Kaohsiung didn’t exist as a base at this time—but that didn’t stop it from being designated as one of the main bases in the Senate’s naval system.

The sea trials went very smoothly. Although there were some minor malfunctions during the voyage, particularly with the steam engine and boilers, none were serious problems and were resolved with minor repairs and adjustments.

After a month of intensive testing, the final data for the “Lichun” was as follows:

Light displacement: 1,091 tons; Standard displacement: 1,160 tons; Normal displacement: 1,359 tons; Full load displacement: 1,519 tons. Actual power output was 489 horsepower, with a maximum speed of 12.5 knots under full power in standard sea conditions. Maximum sailing speed was 15 knots. At maximum displacement, it carried 359 tons of coal, giving it a maximum powered range of 5,000 nautical miles at 5 knots.

The ship’s complement, excluding marines, was 149. It could also permanently accommodate a platoon of marines with all their equipment. For short voyages, it could carry a company with its light artillery and gun crews.

Li Ziping’s overall evaluation of the “Lichun” was: excellent machinery, storage, and compartment space; adequate living and working areas; the ship had a slow, gentle roll, making it a good gun platform. It was an excellent seaboat, comfortable, and capable of firing in the worst weather.

Overall, Li Ziping was quite satisfied with the ship—it was far superior to the Haitian, the first warship the Senators had built themselves. In terms of seaworthiness alone, it was much more stable. The performance of the large-caliber guns was also satisfactory. The damage inflicted on targets by both armor-piercing and high-explosive shells far exceeded their expectations.

As for living conditions, a key metric for the Senators, there was a quantum leap. The quarters for Senator officers on the “Lichun” were much more spacious than on the “Zhenhai” class. Not only did the captain have a private cabin as usual, but Senator officers also had two-person dorms, and the ship’s galley had been upgraded.

“Give me three months, and I’ll have this ship at full combat readiness,” he told Chen Haiyang with confidence.

“You don’t have three months. You have only thirty days to familiarize yourself with the equipment and train your men,” Chen Haiyang replied. “As soon as the Mid-Autumn Festival is over, Operation Engine will begin in full force.”