Part 259: The Reception

The Fisheries Brigade originally had many boats, but they were generally small, miscellaneous, and old. Their tonnage was small, their condition was poor, and they basically operated only in coastal waters, at most reaching the Beibu Gulf region. Now, they were expected to patrol the waters around the Paracel and Dongsha Islands, a task for which they were clearly ill-equipped. Ming Qiu therefore transferred a batch of ships with a standard displacement of less than 100 tons, which had been phased out from the special service boat squadrons, to the Fisheries Brigade. He let Lin Chuanqing modify them as he saw fit, with the only requirement being that they maintain a certain level of armament to conduct armed patrols in the sea area between the Dongsha and Paracel Islands.

Initially, the Senate had hoped that Lin Chuanqing could convert a few ships into whaling boats. Whales were a treasure trove—especially their oil, which was a major source of grease in early industry and indispensable to the Senate’s industrial system, which severely lacked it. Whalebone and baleen, with their high elasticity, also had considerable industrial uses. However, the Grand Library poured cold water on the whaling enthusiasts—the South China Sea was not a whale habitat, only an occasional migratory route. Before they took Hokkaido or Hawaii, commercial whaling was out of the question.

As a result, all the newly allocated fishing boats were converted into longline fishing vessels. The conversion was not complex, just adding a large manual winch and two workboats. Without a powered capstan, manual deployment and retrieval were very slow. After the longline was deployed, unless there were special circumstances, the workboats would check the buoys and lines, harvest the catch, and replace the bait. The other modification was converting the bilge into a “cold storage.” The caught fish would be simply processed and then stuffed inside to keep fresh. Since the sailboats had no power for refrigeration, they couldn’t have a gas-powered cold storage either. Refrigeration could only be done with ice blocks wrapped in insulating materials.

Lin Chuanqing invited a Senator with a background in thermodynamics to carefully design the ship’s cold storage. The insulation layer of the cold storage used a multi-layer insulation treatment. They had a good selection of insulation materials: besides the widely used kapok, sawdust, and diatomaceous earth in Lingao, they also used a large amount of cattail leaves and fluff. Cattail fluff had excellent insulation properties and was not very afraid of water. The cattail plant had evolved this fiber to help its seeds drift with the water, and the hollow cattail leaves provided moisture insulation.

Cattails are actually the Eastern subspecies of the most famous plant of ancient Egyptian civilization—papyrus. The ancient Egyptians used the long fibers of the cattail leaves to make papyrus paper. In China, besides making cushions, mattresses, and kneeling pads from the leaves, or using them for papermaking, the fluff was also an important material for cold protection.

Since cattails grow well in highly saline lowlands and wetlands, the drainage department planted them extensively to treat sewage and reclaim coastal saline-alkali land. Compared to the small amount of wild kapok collected and purchased, and sawdust and diatomaceous earth which had other uses, cattail leaves and fluff became the cheapest and most effective insulation material the transmigration group could mass-produce themselves. It was widely mixed with cotton wadding to make the quilts needed for Operation Engine, and the pillows used by the Senators and their maids for their “gentle slumbers” were mostly filled with cattail fluff.

Although the production of cattail fluff was large, they still had to ensure the supply of materials for the northbound expedition. Therefore, Lin Chuanqing had only converted a total of ten cold-storage fishing boats. Three were used in the Beibu Gulf region, six in Sanya, and the other two were deployed to Hong Kong—the estuaries of large rivers are also rich fishing grounds.

The sushi and sashimi at the reception were a benefit of the cold-storage boats. Hong Shuiyin had originally thought that the locals might not be willing to accept such food, but to his surprise, it was still very popular. Platters were brought out one after another in a continuous stream and were quickly devoured.

“This is Guangdong—they’ve always had the custom of eating raw fish. If they can eat freshwater fish raw, they can certainly eat saltwater fish raw,” said Shi Jiantao, the head of the shipyard, holding a wine glass and slightly tipsy. “Shunde isn’t far from here, and their raw fish is famous…”

Shi Jiantao was in a good mood. The construction of the H800 “Harmony” class ships, which he oversaw, had finally achieved considerable success after a period of stumbling. Training workers for the local shipyards, providing standardized measuring tools and equipment—all had paid off. Especially decisive was the support from the Planning Commission: approval to build a timber processing plant in Hong Kong to process wood transported from Guangdong and Fujian locally, and to mass-produce standardized ship components, including masts, hull planks, and deck strips.

These measures greatly accelerated the construction of the H800 “Harmony” class. Shi Jiantao found that the natives were not poor learners at all; in fact, they were quite intelligent. They had just been blinded by years of conservatism. When someone opened a window and showed them a new path, and then taught them step-by-step how to walk it, they quickly followed and could even draw inferences. Stimulated by economic benefits, the local shipyards adapted to the Australian production model, and their efficiency increased exponentially. For the first few “Harmony” class ships, just the material preparation phase for producing qualified outsourced components took several months. But once everything was running smoothly, building one H800 “Harmony” class ship took an average of only 50 days. Shi Jiantao built these large transport ships in batches of four on the simple beach slipways of Hong Kong.

In reality, the Hong Kong shipyard was performing an assembly task. The iron frames and ribs were processed in Bopu and then transported to Hong Kong by the Dajing. Simple wooden components were subcontracted to various native shipyards and carpentry workshops in the Pearl River Delta and then transported to Hong Kong Island. More complex wooden components were manufactured by the timber processing plant. The final assembly was completed on the beach slipways.

In the end, the Hong Kong shipyard completed its task of 28 ships before the D-Day anniversary—not only successfully fulfilling the mission assigned for Operation Engine but also exceeding it by four ships. These four were converted into fleet colliers.

When Shi Jiantao realized his shipbuilding work could be completed on schedule, he got roaring drunk with joy. His position in the Senate was now fully secured. Fortune, indeed, favors the bold.

Today, seeing the transport fleet he had personally overseen about to set sail for Operation Engine, he was in an exceptionally good mood, happily drinking a mix of soda water, fruit juice, and rum.

“Are your contractors here too?” Hong Shuiyin asked. He had invited local merchants with whom they had trade relations today.

“They’re here. And Luo Chen’s batch of Heaven and Earth Society clients.”

At the reception, a crowd of “upper-class” natives dressed in silks and satins had gathered. Mixed among them were several scholars in long gowns. Hong Shuiyin, as the local head of commerce and liaison officer, held a wine glass and moved through the crowd, chatting and laughing, skillfully socializing with the local collaborators.

The local collaborators were mostly small and medium-sized landlords from the Kowloon Peninsula, across from Saint Mary’s Bay, and from the more northerly counties of Dongguan and Xiangshan. Influenced by the tide of the Ming Dynasty’s commodity economy, they had long begun to cultivate various cash crops, especially indigo and mulberry for sericulture. Indigo, raw silk, and silk fabrics were all major export goods for the Senate, so they had always been a target for Hong Shuiyin’s active wooing.

Attracting them to supply export products for the foreign trade company and promoting the services of the “Heaven and Earth Society” was currently one of Hong Shuiyin’s main tasks.

The initial cooperation of these small and medium-sized landlords with the Hong Kong station was somewhat “coerced.” Due to the “awe-inspiring military might” of the Fubo Army in the Pearl River Delta, and with bayonets and gunboats looming nearby, no one dared to refuse the Hong Kong station’s “trade briefing.”

However, once this trade relationship was formally established, they quickly discovered that cooperating with the Australians in Hong Kong was much, much better than dealing with the various unscrupulous merchants in the cities. As a result, the relationship between the two sides quickly warmed up, and the Heaven and Earth Society took the opportunity to start developing clients in the area. The agricultural conditions on Hong Kong Island were poor, so the Heaven and Earth Society had little room to operate there.

Of course, there were also those who came to cooperate with the Australians voluntarily—Liu Deshan was one of them. After witnessing the Fubo Army’s impeccable discipline in Sanliang Town, he quickly had the idea of doing business with the Australians.

Liu Deshan’s business was trading local products between Shandong and Guangdong. He had long heard that the Australians’ business was huge and their goods were extremely popular. Now that the Australians were right on his doorstep, the opportunity was not to be missed. So, as soon as the Pearl River Delta pacification campaign ended, he went to Hong Kong, found Hong Shuiyin, and asked to trade Shandong goods.

Hong Shuiyin was very interested in his proposal. Although Liu Deshan was a small merchant with limited capital, he was very familiar with the trade routes. As a native of Shandong who had long been doing business in the Pearl River Delta, he was familiar with the situation in both places, making him a very suitable trade agent. Moreover, his power was not great, so he was unlikely to become too big to control.

With Hong Shuiyin’s support, Liu Deshan quickly became an agent for “Wanyou” and began to deal in Australian goods. He was very familiar with the situation in the towns and villages of the Pearl River Delta and was able to penetrate deep into areas that the Guangzhou station had previously found difficult to reach. He had already established a preliminary rural commercial network in Dongguan County.

This rural commercial network, through a model of itinerant peddlers and local agency stores, sold large quantities of daily necessities produced in Lingao, such as matches, new-style iron farm tools, and cheap patent medicines, to the towns and villages, while also purchasing various local products. Although the business was fragmented and not very profitable, it at least allowed Lingao’s goods to penetrate the countryside. As goods penetrated, ideas would follow.

Liu Deshan himself had made a small fortune. Although he hadn’t earned a huge amount of money, his shrewd mind already knew that there were bigger business opportunities with the Australians down the road. As long as he was patient, the days of making big money were just ahead.

At this moment, he was standing in the main hall, holding a glass of kvass in the Australian manner, watching Hong Shuiyin’s every move. He was hoping that this “leader” would reveal some more information to him. He had already sensed something from the Hong Kong station’s large-scale procurement in the previous phase—a bigger opportunity would soon arrive on Hong Kong Island.