Chapter 18: Advancing Under the Moonlight

At dawn on September 19th, the fleets weighed anchor one by one and set sail in the morning light, beginning a 24-hour voyage. After departing from Penghu, the probability of encountering other forces increased significantly. Ming Qiu ordered the patrol boat squadron to disperse and form a five-nautical-mile security perimeter around the formation. Any vessel encountered by the patrol boats was to be seized and then scuttled.

By that evening, the fleet had arrived in the waters about 40 nautical miles southwest of Kinmen Island. Soon after, Ming Qiu ordered all warships to battle stations. The boilers of all steam-powered warships were fired up, with thick black smoke billowing from every smokestack. Anti-splinter netting was raised on each ship. Fire hoses were readied on the decks, and ammunition hoists were inspected. All wooden railings and other non-essential components were dismantled and stowed below deck to prevent them from creating deadly shrapnel if hit by a cannonball, or from becoming fuel for the enemy’s incendiary weapons. According to intelligence from the special reconnaissance teams, the Zheng family had widely equipped both their ships and land fortifications with various types of incendiary rockets.

Excess sails and rigging were taken down, and the masts were secured and tightened with thin steel cables. Sandbags were piled around the bridge and gun positions. All preparations were made according to the standards of a 19th-century fleet entering combat.

After all combat preparations were complete, Ming Qiu ordered the ship’s radio room to contact the special reconnaissance detachments that had landed at the various designated sites the previous day. He needed to confirm the current situation in Kinmen, Xiamen, and Anping, as well as the specific status of the Zheng family’s fleet.

The reconnaissance team’s report was brief: “No unusual activity around the targets. The seas around Kinmen are calm.” A faint smile appeared on Ming Qiu’s face upon hearing this.

Although he knew his forces held an overwhelming advantage—like a tiger pouncing on a sheep—coordinating the movements of over a hundred ships was a significant test of the Senate Navy’s peacetime training. However, with their technological superiority, minor mistakes or losses would not affect the outcome of the battle. His biggest worry was bad weather. While the chance of a typhoon at the end of September was low, a major storm could scatter the fleet. If that happened, he would have no choice but to withdraw to Kaohsiung and regroup.

Moreover, if the seas in the operational area were too rough, both naval bombardment and landing operations would be severely restricted. A fleet of sailing ships was far too vulnerable to the whims of nature.

Now, the reconnaissance team’s report put his mind at ease. All he had to do was follow the plan step by step.

At this moment, the main force of the Zheng family’s fleet was anchored in Liaoluo Bay. The Zheng family were first and foremost maritime merchants, so most of their vessels were dual-purpose, serving as both warships and trading ships. There was no strict distinction between the two. Even their merchant ships were commonly equipped with cannons, with the armament varying based on their specific needs.

The Zheng fleet had not yet reached its historical peak size. However, after successively defeating and absorbing the major maritime factions along the coasts of Fujian and Guangdong, Zheng’s power had grown to an unprecedented level. All ships sailing to Southeast Asia and Japan now flew his banner. With a single command, he could mobilize over a thousand vessels of all sizes, forming the most formidable fleet in East Asian waters.

However, most of these ships were not suited for naval combat. The true backbone of his maritime power, the vessels that could fight for supremacy on the seas, were his largest ships. When Li Kuiqi had defected, he took most of Zheng’s warships with him. It was only with the financial and artillery support from Xiong Wencan that Zheng Zhilong was able to build a new batch of large, Fuchuan-style warships. These ships were not only much larger than the standard 400-liao government warships, but they also surpassed most of the European merchant ships in the Far East in size.

His largest capital ships were three-masted Fuchuan-style gunships. According to surveys, photographs, and calculations by the special reconnaissance and intelligence departments, these ships had an overall length of about 61 meters, a waterline length of 53 meters, a beam of 13.8 meters (13.0 meters at the waterline), a hold depth of 4.89 meters, and a draft of 3.9 meters, with a displacement of around 1,200 tons. Each ship was armed with 8 to 10 Hongyi cannons. Because Fuchuan ships were built with few ribs and lacked sufficient depth, they could not accommodate a continuous gun deck below the main deck. All cannons had to be mounted on the top deck, which resulted in a high center of gravity. To maintain stability, the number and weight of the cannons were severely limited. Consequently, although Zheng Zhilong’s warships were comparable in size and tonnage to European vessels, their firepower was far inferior to the average European merchantman armed with 24 cannons, let alone dedicated warships carrying 32.

Based on the number of cannons and the weight of a single broadside, it would take at least four of Zheng Zhilong’s 8-gun capital ships to match one of their own. It was no wonder, then, that he had to rely on fire ships to achieve victory in the Battle of Liaoluo Bay against the Dutch.

Of course, besides defending the Zheng family’s maritime hegemony, these ships also served as ocean-going merchant vessels. After all, the trade routes were fraught with danger from both Chinese and foreign pirates, and powerful armament was necessary for protection. According to the reconnaissance teams, fourteen of these three-masted gunships were currently anchored in the waters of Anping, Xiamen, and Kinmen. The largest concentration was in Liaoluo Bay with seven ships, while four were in Anping, and three were near Xiamen and Gulangyu.

In addition, the reconnaissance teams reported sighting three European-style ships anchored in the same areas, with displacements ranging from 400 to 1,200 tons. The largest of these, a “fast boat,” was flying the flag of the Dutch East India Company and likely belonged to the Dutch trade commissioner in Fujian. The other two flew Zheng Zhilong’s banner and were probably European ships he had either purchased or copied—the Great Library indicated that records showed Zheng Zhilong had attempted to build replicas of European vessels.

Besides these three-masted gunships, the Zheng fleet also had over a hundred twin-masted Fuchuan and Guangchuan (Cantonese ships) equipped with a fair number of cannons. However, according to reconnaissance reports, these “second-rate warships” carried even fewer Hongyi cannons—only 2 to 4 each. Their armament consisted mostly of anti-personnel weapons like Folangji swivel guns. Most of these ships were anchored in the waters around Kinmen and Xiamen.

As for the cannons on the rest of his ships, the quality was even more inconsistent. They not only lacked Hongyi cannons but also had few Folangji guns. Instead, they were armed with a motley collection of crudely made, privately cast iron cannons and culverins, some even including ancient bowl-mouthed mortars. These weapons had almost no destructive power against enemy ships and were only effective at nearly point-blank, boarding range.

Zheng Zhilong, like his other commanders, knew very well that they stood little chance of winning a head-on naval battle against the “Australians.” Therefore, he planned to resort to the same old tactic he had used against the Dutch: fire ships. To this end, he had assembled over two hundred old boats in the Kinmen-Xiamen area, piled high with dry firewood. He also equipped his ships with various incendiary weapons scrounged from Ming arsenals, such as fire arrows and “fire crows.”

Even so, Zheng Zhilong was still keenly aware of the vast disparity in strength between his forces and the Australians. On one hand, he sought foreign aid, trying to acquire European-style ships and cannons; on the other, he worked to bolster the defenses of Anping and Xiamen. He sent men to Guangdong to purchase over a dozen of the largest and heaviest Hongyi cannons available, using them to build up gun emplacements and reinforce the defenses of Kinmen Island and Anping. Additionally, he had an iron chain and log boom installed at the entrance to Anping harbor to prevent Australian ships from breaking through. Besides recruiting local soldiers in Fujian, he also hired black and Japanese mercenaries from places like Macau who were proficient with firearms, and purchased a large number of matchlock muskets.

Inside the radio room of the flagship Lichun, the telegraph clicked incessantly. The special reconnaissance teams were transmitting the positions of the Zheng fleet within the bay. One by one, new coordinates were marked on the plotting board in the command room. By midnight, the locations of all major warships in the Zheng fleet had been re-plotted.

At 4:00 AM on September 20th, Ming Qiu ordered the entire fleet to have their final pre-battle meal. An hour later, the First Fleet advanced in a single column. Leading the way were four sail-powered special service boats, followed by the five steam-powered warships with the Lichun at their head. The other squadrons of special service boats followed one nautical mile behind. All vessels were under strict light discipline, with only the faint glow of navigation lights visible.

Ming Qiu had been worried that the bright moonlight might reveal the fleet’s presence prematurely, but as they neared Kinmen, cloud cover increased, and the moon flickered in and out of view. The silhouettes of the silently advancing warships of the First Fleet were only visible on the water’s surface when the moon emerged from behind the clouds.

Thanks to precise charts and navigation, Kinmen Island was faintly visible by 5:30 AM. Through binoculars, one could just make out a forest of masts in Liaoluo Bay. Apparently, the enemy was either unconcerned about a surprise attack or completely ignorant of the concept of light discipline. The scattered lights from their ships and the shore helpfully marked the targets for the First Fleet.

Ming Qiu ordered all hands to their battle stations, opened the magazines, and prepared to open fire at a moment’s notice.

The main force of the First Fleet had now entered Liaoluo Bay, proceeding at a speed of 4 knots with their port sides facing the bay. Since the cannons on the sailing ships lacked sufficient range, the plan was for the five steam warships, equipped with rifled cannons, to fire first to throw the enemy into disarray. The special service boats would then move in for a closer bombardment.

Ning Liujin was asleep on the deck planks, covered by a tattered bundle of fibers that might have been part of a fishing net, a sail, or a rope. The thing was filthy, smelly, and damp, but none of this bothered him. He was sleeping soundly. The sea was calm, the weather was good, and it wasn’t raining. Even if it had been, Ning Liujin would have had to stay right where he was and sleep through it—he wasn’t important enough to sleep in the sterncastle or in the cabins below deck.

Ning Liujin was an “apprentice.” The ship’s owner was a distant relative who owned a vessel in the Zheng family’s fleet. In a place like Fujian, with many people and little land, Ning Liujin had no fields to till and couldn’t even find work as a tenant farmer or a long-term laborer. When his relative’s ship needed a few extra hands, Ning Liujin went—at least it was a way to get by. If he was lucky enough to live a few more years, he might even earn a little silver.