Part 258: The People of Hong Kong
The lookout tower on top of Victoria Peak had just been completed. In this era, there was no Governor’s Mansion here, only a desolate wilderness. The Hong Kong project team of the Lingao Construction Corporation, under the command of Shi Dafu, had spent several months carving out a mountain path wide enough for a “Jifeng” two-wheeled handcart. They then leveled a small plot of land at the summit and built a three-story stone lookout tower to monitor the entire island and the surrounding waters.
The lookout tower also served as a radio transmission tower. With its advantageous terrain and clean radio environment, it acted as a communication hub connecting Zhejiang in the north to Lingao in the south.
On the top platform of the lookout tower, several Senators were “enjoying a panoramic view of the mountains.” They were dressed in various uniforms, surrounded by orderlies, secretaries, and maids.
A gray-haired, dark-skinned Senator, while overlooking the ships of the Grand Fleet in the anchorage, remarked, “The Navy is very strong now! What a pity! We’re just has-beens who can’t keep up…”
Li Di, wearing a staff officer’s sash, laughed. “Boss Lin! Aren’t you also in the Navy? As for rank, your rank of Lieutenant Commander is rare in the Navy.”
“How can that compare?” Lin Chuanqing, dressed in a naval uniform, shook his head repeatedly. “I’m a fisherman—from the Fisheries Brigade. To put it bluntly, we’re just fishermen in uniform, no different from the production companies in the Army. After three years of service, all they do is farm and raise pigs.”
“Fishing is also revolutionary work,” Hong Huangnan said. “Your Fisheries Brigade is much more important than the production companies that grow vegetables and raise pigs. You’ve solved our meat problem for the past few years. I’m still counting on the fisheries to provide us with more protein.” He pointed to the faint outline of Lantau Island in the distance. “The purified population over there is waiting to eat seafood congee!”
Lin Chuanqing laughed heartily. “Staff Officer Hong—no, Minister Hong, I’ll accept the compliment. I understand the importance of fishing, but seeing the young lads go out to fight and have some fun makes me very envious!”
He rubbed the stubble of his buzz cut. “Fishing is my old trade, of course, but I often wish I could fire a cannon and hear the bang, you know?”
At this, everyone laughed. Li Di said, “How about you become the admiral of a fisheries administration fleet in the future? First, stir up a fishery dispute with Japan, and then you can bombard Sakai.”
“Bombard Sakai? What a waste. It’s a commercial port. If we occupy it, it’ll be a great cash cow,” Hong Shuiyin said, his eyes gleaming with greed. As the head of commerce in Hong Kong, he was not satisfied with the current state of business there.
Commercial activity in Hong Kong had developed significantly. As an outport for Guangzhou, Hong Kong’s transportation advantages were far superior to those of Whampoa and Macau. Especially after signing a trade agreement with the Dutch and opening Hong Kong as a trading port, Dutch fleets sailed to Hong Kong regularly for trade.
Although the trade with the Dutch was profitable, its scale was still too small. The number of Dutch ships sailing to China was not large, only a few dozen voyages a year. To someone from the 21st century, this was pitifully small.
Due to the Ming court’s blockade of the Pearl River Estuary and the revocation of the Portuguese right to trade in Guangzhou, the Portuguese in Macau, who in the original history had failed to regain permission to reopen the port despite various efforts, were in a deep crisis. But in this timeline, the Macau Municipal Council, out of desperation, turned its sights to Hong Kong. The Australians could enter and exit the Pearl River Estuary as if it were their own backyard, and the government did not dare to prohibit it. Moreover, the Australians had a semi-public consular and commercial agency in Guangzhou, making the transport and sale of goods extremely convenient. Thus, some Portuguese merchants switched to trading in Hong Kong. Hong Shuiyin found that Hong Kong was now once again acting as a “window” for trade—a window connecting the open sea with the mainland.
Hong Shuiyin welcomed the Portuguese. They had the ability to pay and the sales channels, and all their business activities in Hong Kong brought revenue to the city, from rent and port fees to taxes.
The Portuguese also found Hong Kong to be an advantageous window. They no longer had to face the greedy Ming officials and the Chinese merchants who often defaulted on payments. The downside was that the profits were not as handsome as before—the Australians had a thorough understanding of the market prices for various goods.
However, this alone was not enough to satisfy Hong Shuiyin’s “great ambitions.” He often gazed towards the mainland—that was the real gold mine waiting to be tapped.
Unfortunately, the current situation was not yet ripe for gold mining. Hong Shuiyin could only sigh at the vast ocean.
His gaze turned to the area below the mountain. In Causeway Bay and Central, rows of warehouses had been built, and large steam cranes stood one after another. The image of Hong Kong as a logistics center was beginning to take shape. Ships from Hainan and Guangzhou arrived here daily, unloading vast quantities of goods. All sorts of materials were piled up like mountains.
Unfortunately, these goods had nothing to do with him—they were all supplies for Operation Engine. However, he had been on edge for a while. Hong Kong’s defenses were insufficient, with only one company of marines and the armed patrol boats of the Navy’s Hong Kong squadron.
As for the militia of Luo Chen’s agricultural reclamation corps, although they were said to be a fusion of soldiers and civilians, they didn’t even have a single rifle, being armed only with standard spears and machetes. Moreover, the entire corps was either busy clearing land and farming or working on construction sites, with little time for training. Hong Shuiyin had serious doubts about their combat effectiveness.
If they were attacked, it would be difficult to guarantee the safety of the massive amount of supplies stored here. As one of the main officials in charge of the Hong Kong region, he would surely be in deep trouble.
These anxious days lasted until the summer, when troops finally arrived in Hong Kong from Lingao. In addition to the strengthening of naval power, the Northbound Detachment and the newly formed Pacification Army also gradually sailed to Hong Kong Island. Now, the island was well-defended, with the Northbound Detachment alone numbering nearly two thousand men, not including the several hundred newly arrived Pacification Army soldiers.
While the group was pointing out landmarks and discussing matters, Luo Chen’s female secretary came to report that the reception celebrating the third anniversary of D-Day was ready, and it would officially begin as soon as the leaders arrived.
D-Day was the day they arrived in this time and place, a day of great commemorative significance. In a sense, it was the National Day of the Senate. Therefore, the Senate had designated it a “Memorial Day.” The D-Day anniversaries in 1629 and 1630, due to internal and external troubles, had consisted of nothing more than a simple dinner for the Senators and an improvement in their food.
But this year, despite Operation Engine, their surrounding environment had greatly improved, and their material conditions were far better than before. To strengthen the cohesion of the naturalized citizens and the loyalty of the natives, the Senate held some simple celebrations around D-Day. In addition to Lingao, all the counties and trading posts under the Senate’s control were to hold banquets and receptions. The former was to reward the key members of the naturalized citizenry, and the latter was to entertain their native collaborators.
The reception was held in the main hall of the trading post, in the form of a buffet. It was essentially a smaller version of the New Year’s reception. Although Hong Kong was far from Lingao, it was very close to Guangzhou, from where they could easily buy a large quantity of fresh ingredients. Therefore, its lavishness was no less than that of Lingao.
In the main hall of the trading post, long tables covered with snow-white tablecloths were already laden with dishes and tableware. The dishes here were “Australian-style.” Through the influence of the Ziminlou, various modern dishes favored by the Senators had gradually spread in the Guangzhou area. The chefs at the Hong Kong base were transferred from Lingao and had been trained at the cooperative’s restaurants.
Hong Shuiyin saw several large platters of sushi and sashimi on the table. The fresh raw fish glistened with an alluring luster, a truly rare sight in this era. Although sashimi and sushi were not uncommon among the Senators in Lingao, this was the first time they had been made in Hong Kong. The local base previously had no cold storage, and the fishing boats had no refrigeration facilities, so the caught fish could not be preserved in a cold chain. For safety reasons, raw food like sashimi was never made. Besides, in the past, it was rare to catch fish suitable for sashimi locally.
“Old Lin, this is all thanks to you,” Hong Shuiyin said with a smile.
The South China Sea is one of the main habitats of Pacific yellowfin tuna and skipjack tuna. Yellowfin tuna was expensive in the old world, and skipjack, the smallest of the tuna, though not as pricey as the famous bluefin and yellowfin, was still a rare delicacy in this era. Tuna are deep-sea fish, mainly living in the cold water layer at depths of 20-50 meters, often diving to depths of over a hundred meters. As a result, their flesh contains a large amount of fat and myoglobin, giving it a red color. For the Senators, who lacked red meat, it was an irresistible temptation.
However, ordinary fishing boats of the Ming Dynasty were not seaworthy enough to enter the blue water, and the Senate only had a few deep-sea nets that had come with the Type 8145—all of which were being used in the Beibu Gulf fishing grounds. The Senate group could not produce such nylon trawl nets. Therefore, the fisheries detachment stationed in Hong Kong had only been able to use small nets for fishing, resulting in a small catch of low economic value.
To solve this problem, Lin Chuanqing decided to switch to fishing with lines. He converted a sailing trawler, which had been decommissioned from the Navy and transferred to the Fisheries Brigade, into a longline fishing boat.
This boat towed a several-kilometer-long cable, from which hung a series of buoys. From each buoy hung a 50-meter-long line, and on each line were tied 20 hooks. This boat went out to sea twice a month. As long as the sea conditions were good, it would always return with a very impressive catch. In addition to tuna, mackerel, and sea bass, there were also rare catches like swordfish, marlin, and large sharks.
The trial was a success. Lin Chuanqing immediately submitted a report to convert several more boats into longline fishing boats. The Admiralty approved his request. On the one hand, increasing the protein supply was a common desire; on the other hand, the Navy was considering strengthening patrols in the South China Sea. The fishing boats’ activities also served as a form of patrol.