Chapter 24: Naval Battle (Part 1)

The First Squadron was currently led by the flagship Lichun. It was the fastest ship, with the tallest masts, giving it the largest effective observation range. Aided by the “high-power” observation telescopes provided by the Optics Factory, the navy had an unparalleled advantage in “search” capabilities.

At 7:50 AM, the Lichun received the following telegram: “Enemy fleet has departed from Xiamen Island. Main force consists of three three-masted gunships and two European-style sailing ships, with 14 other sailing vessels and 90-100 fire ships. They are heading towards Kinmen Island.”

The telegram was sent by a special reconnaissance scout hidden on Xiamen Island. When Ming Qiu saw the message, he realized that the enemy’s “decisive battle” fleet was approaching him. Fire ships were Zheng Zhilong’s last resort, and this time, the enemy was undoubtedly coming with the intention of fighting to the death.

He checked the current sea currents and wind direction. The enemy was coming with the wind and tide in their favor, likely reaching a speed of 5-6 knots. At this rate, they would encounter each other in less than two hours.

The enemy could easily spot them—the thick black smoke billowing from their funnels was the most conspicuous marker. The enemy was prepared and would certainly try to intercept the First Squadron at sea for a “decisive battle.”

At 8:00 AM, the urgent beat of the battle drums sounded. The sailors, who had relaxed somewhat, tensed up once again. Everyone began to go through their pre-battle preparations: clearing their stations and checking the cannon bores. Each gun began to slowly traverse and elevate. The gunners imagined the enemy appearing on the horizon and started to run drills. The marines crowded below deck were ordered to rest. With no space to lie down, they leaned against each other and dozed off. They knew that after an exciting morning, they probably wouldn’t get to lie down and rest until the next day.

At 9:17 AM, the Qingdian’s engine overheated, spewing an unusually thick column of black smoke. This caught the attention of a sailor in the mast-top of Zheng Lian’s flagship to the northwest.

Zheng Lian had been looking for an opportunity to engage. The longer the voyage at sea, the more disadvantageous it was for him. Maneuvering a large fleet of sailing ships was a difficult task. Although they were in the inner waters of Xiamen Bay and the Zheng family had considerable experience in fleet sailing, it was still a great challenge to maintain a stable course and speed for over 100 dilapidated fire ships and coordinate them with the covering fleet.

Now that the sailor had spotted the smoke column, he realized the Australian fleet was close. Zheng Lian assessed the wind and tide, both of which were in his favor, and his confidence grew. He immediately ordered the helmsman to turn the rudder and head towards the smoke.

At 9:19 AM, the lookout on the Lichun reported: “100 enemy ships. Bearing northwest by west, 25 nautical miles, closing.”

The news of the enemy’s approach was relayed to the four trailing gunboats by flag signals and light signals.

The Lichun maintained its course, with all guns pointed in the direction of the approaching enemy. Ming Qiu was not at all worried about the Zheng family’s 19 warships—they were cannon fodder. The only real threat was the fire ships. If they were rammed by a fire ship, the consequences would be dire. Zheng Zhilong had used fire ship tactics many times and had successfully inflicted heavy damage on Dutch warships with them; he had proven combat experience. They had to be treated with caution.

To counter the prevalent tactic of fire ships in the South China Sea, the Lichun and the four other gunboats were each equipped with a 5-barreled Hotchkiss revolving cannon, supplementing the “typewriters” (Gatling guns). Both of these rapid-fire weapons were highly effective against small vessels and were key assets for dealing with “boat swarm” tactics like fire ships.

Of course, even without these, the Senate Navy was not afraid of fire ships. In 1840, the British had neither “typewriters” nor Hotchkiss cannons, yet they destroyed all of the Qing dynasty’s fire ship attacks with just cutters and steam paddle-wheelers. The Senate’s focus on this was simply a reaction born from a dual mindset of “taking it seriously” and “overwhelming force.”

Since the First Squadron consisted of only five warships, Ming Qiu didn’t bother with any complex tactical arrangements. He ordered the signal: “Follow me!” Then, he had the boilers brought to full pressure and steamed towards the enemy fleet at 12 knots.

At 9:30 AM, the lookout at the top of the mast on Zheng Lian’s flagship spotted a large column of smoke on the southeastern horizon. A moment later, he began to make out a tall mast—it was the fore-mainmast of the Lichun. The two fleets were 5,500 meters apart.

The mournful sound of conch shells echoed across the decks of Zheng Lian’s fleet. From the sterncastle, Zheng Lian watched the fire ship squadron to his right. The more than 100 fire ships formed a column several nautical miles long, a spectacular sight. But the long voyage had stretched out their formation considerably. He grew anxious. In this state, the fire ships couldn’t swarm the enemy effectively and could be easily avoided or sunk.

“Lower the mainsail, let the fire ships catch up!” Zheng Lian ordered.