Chapter 194: The Great Ming's Age of Sail

The officials looked toward the dock and saw a galleon moored at the shore, with most of its crew on deck enjoying the breeze.

A few men kept hauling fresh water up the gangplank to wash down the deck and cabins.

Hu Yingtai said, "What exactly happened here? Explain it in detail."

The sailor then recounted the voyage through the Cat Ba archipelago, the encounter with the sea centipede, and the killing of Zhong Bin.

As for Zhong Bin's connection to Lord Zheng, and what Zheng Zhilong had done in Lord Zheng's court, he said nothing at all.

The officials were already spellbound just hearing tales of the sea centipede, the desert-island cavern, and the echoes of death.

Coming to his senses, Hu Yingtai roared, "Utter nonsense! Where's the physical evidence? Heads alone — who's to say you didn't slaughter innocents to claim merit?" The sailor laughed: "Your Excellency, if I may be so bold — with the name of the Nan'ao Fleet behind us, would wiping out a paltry band of sea bandits require slaughtering innocents to claim merit?"

Hu Yingtai was choked speechless, his face turning red, and he fumed: "The Nan'ao Fleet is this insolent! What rank do you hold, that you refuse to kneel before this Governor-General?" The sailor replied, "I hold no rank or office — I am a retainer of the Regional Commander's household."

Hu Yingtai said, "Is a household retainer not a soldier of our Great Ming? A mere retainer dares behave with such audacity — what is Ma Chenglie up to?" The generals beside him urged in succession: "Your Excellency, say no more."

"Your Excellency, the maritime defense of Fujian and Guangdong rests on his shoulders alone — if something goes wrong, the consequences would be too great!"

"Your Excellency, you must think of the people."

Hu Yingtai's face cycled through pale and red before he finally waved a hand: "You may go."

The sailor clasped his hands in farewell, and before leaving, pointed at a head set apart from the rest: "Your Excellency, this is the head of the bandit chief Zhong Bin. The man had a nickname — Zhong the King of Hell. Have it examined and you'll know."

After the sailor left.

Hu Yingtai summoned the coroner and men who had seen the bandits before, to come verify the corpse.

Moments later, the head's identity was confirmed — it was indeed Zhong Bin's head.

The coroner added: "Your Excellency, among these heads, many bear the half-shaved topknot style — that is the hairstyle of wokou pirates. They should be genuine." Hu Yingtai waved him away.

The general at his side said: "Your Excellency, in recent months there have been no more sea bandits plaguing the Lianzhou area. With over a thousand heads here, if they had slaughtered innocents to claim merit, there would have been some commotion."

Another urged: "The Nan'ao Fleet is the finest fighting force among the Fujian and Guangdong fleets — they could never slaughter innocents to claim merit or pad their battle reports." Hu Yingtai let out a long sigh. Was it really these things he worried about?

That night, in the Governor-General's residence, Hu Yingtai wrote a memorial of impeachment, detailing the Nan'ao Fleet's various acts of wanton disregard and insubordination during this bandit-suppression campaign, implying they harbored rebellious intent, and urging the court to make an early decision.

The memorial was sent by swift horse and reached the capital half a month later.

Hu Yingtai was forthright, but not foolish — he knew that impeaching Ma Chenglie was no small matter, and that he could not go through the regular channel of the Office of Transmission, so he used a secret memorial delivered directly to the throne.

When Tianqi received the secret memorial, he was busy with carpentry and had no mood to read it, so he had Wei Zhongxian read it aloud.

Wei Zhongxian begged the Emperor's pardon and summoned Wang Tigan to read in his stead; Tianqi approved.

After the memorial was read, Tianqi remained silent.

Wei Zhongxian was so anxious sweat was about to pour down his face, but he feigned confusion: "Haven't the sea bandits been wiped out?"

"They have been wiped out. The memorial says there are nine hundred and eighty-eight heads."

Wei Zhongxian continued playing dumb: "Then all is well — the southeastern seas were pacified after so much trouble. Isn't that a good thing?"

"Hmph!" Tianqi hurled his plane aside. "Some people are sticking their noses too far into things!"

"This servant knows his error!"

The words seemed to carry a double meaning, and both Wei Zhongxian and Wang Tigan hurriedly knelt to beg forgiveness.

Tianqi said with displeasure: "The state is like a table bearing heavy goods — whichever leg is longer must bear more of the weight. Those short legs contribute nothing, and yet they clatter and squawk! How detestable!"

These words, too, carried a double meaning — referring both to the Governor-General of the Two Guang and to the current court.

Wei Zhongxian suppressed the joy in his heart. Though he understood Tianqi's meaning, he could not appear too clever, so he kept playing dumb: "This servant will summon the palace craftsmen to repair the table."

Tianqi laughed in exasperation: "You fool! Keep the memorial under wraps, and have the Ministry of War issue a commendation for the Nan'ao Fleet."

Wei Zhongxian asked: "May I ask His Majesty, what shall be done about Governor Hu?"

Tianqi said: "In consideration of his loyal heart, let it be."

Mid-May, the fourth year of Tianqi.

The fleet returned to Nan'ao Island.

Lin Qian found a house to settle Ruan Hongyu in, and hired maidservants to look after her.

Meanwhile, cargo loading and unloading proceeded at a feverish pace.

The merchant convoy totaled forty-two merchant vessels of various sizes, and they could not linger at Nan'ao Island too long — they still had to hurry on to Hirado.

The workers had to unload and load cargo in a short time, and the workload was staggering — so much so that they had to work through the night, with the docks bustling day and night without rest.

Of course, the stevedores' wages were also extremely high.

An ordinary laborer at Yuegang would earn one copper coin for moving five small pieces of cargo or one large piece; on Nan'ao Island, the rate was tripled outright.

As a result, surplus laborers from Zhangzhou and Chaozhou flooded into Nan'ao Harbor to earn extra money.

Food and lodging on Nan'ao Island were more expensive than on the mainland.

These laborers were all poor and destitute — at night they slept on the roads by the docks, and when hungry they gnawed on dry flatbread or scavenged rotten vegetable leaves from the market. This not only hurt Nan'ao Island's image but also affected loading efficiency.

So Lin Qian sent men to build shacks by the docks and provide three free meals a day.

While cargo was being unloaded at Nan'ao Island's docks, merchant ships plied back and forth between shore and island, and large numbers of inland merchants came to Nan'ao Island to place orders and haul goods away. Goods piled up grain by grain in Nan'ao Island's warehouses, then dissolved like mist as tide-like waves of merchants arrived, leaving behind only mountains of cold white silver. At last, through the efforts of many, the forty-two merchant ships were loaded and unloaded by the end of May, and they departed port without pause, setting course for Hirado. In addition, the Cape of Good Hope, bound by its agreement with Lord Ruan, had to return to Hoi An to provide protection and could not accompany the convoy to Hirado.

As for personnel, aside from Zheng Zhilong staying on the island because of the heavy workload in the administrative office, the "Zheng He Fleet" remained its original crew. Before departure, Lin Qian cautioned the three men: "The three-year agreement with Li Dan is drawing near. On this voyage to Hirado, be careful in all things."

"Understood." Bai Qing replied.

Lin Qian took a sheet of paper from his bosom and handed it to Lü Zhou.

Lü Zhou opened it and saw it was a piece of parallel prose: "This is?"

Lin Qian smiled: "This is an essay by Li Guozhu. If the need arises, show it to Li Dan. Also, don't mention the matter of Zhong Bin to Li Dan, lest he overthink it."

"This subordinate will remember."

"Go on, then."

After seeing off the merchant convoy, Lin Qian said to Geng Wu: "Saddle the horses — we're going to Yandun Bay!"

At this time, the Yandun Bay shipyard was a hive of noise, with shipwrights gathered on the shore.

On the slipways, two newly built yachts were awaiting their launch.

An hour later, Lin Qian arrived on horseback, and the ceremony began.

Because these two ships had been built with the assistance of Portuguese shipwrights, the launching ceremony had become a blend of Chinese and Western practices.

First came the traditional Chinese keel-blessing ceremony—painting the eyes on the bow, hanging red cloth and bronze mirrors to ward off evil.

Then a priest offered prayers and splashed wine over the stern.

Finally, the masters of ceremony from both the Chinese and Portuguese sides invited Lin Qian forward to give the ships their final names.

Lin Qian said, "Let them be called Huizhou and Quanzhou."

"Excellent—Huizhou, Quanzhou!" the master of ceremonies repeated the names in a loud voice.

The Portuguese shipwrights also repeated them in broken Chinese, their faces fervent.

At the end, a Portuguese man handed Lin Qian an axe and gestured for him to strike the mooring cable.

That cable connected to the bow and was the last rope holding the hull in place; beneath it sat a block of wood as a cushion.

Lin Qian swung the axe with both hands and brought it down hard on the cable. The axe was heavy and keenly sharpened—one blow severed the rope.

Under gravity, the Quanzhou slid slowly down the grease-coated keel ways toward the sea, gradually picking up speed until the hull plunged into the water, throwing up a huge spray.

The bow hit the water right after, sending up another sheet of spray.

It was midsummer, the weather hot and muggy, and the cold seawater that splashed down like fine rain felt wonderfully refreshing.

Then Lin Qian, axe in hand, walked over to the Huizhou's slipway and did the same—one blow cutting through the cable.

The Huizhou crashed into the sea and steadied herself in the water moments later.

Only then did the cheers of the shipyard workers erupt like a mountain avalanche or a tidal wave.

The Portuguese shipwright who had handed him the axe said, "General, these two ships are not yet fitted out. It will be some time before they enter official service. Since you are here, why don't we discuss the ship design?"

The interpreter translated his words.

Lin Qian readily agreed—had it not been to discuss the design of the new flagship, a busy man like him would never have ridden all the way from Nan'ao town. Thanks to the shipyard's presence, the Yundao area near Yandun Bay had already grown into a village of its own accord.

The Portuguese shipwright led Lin Qian into a meeting room.

Lin Qian looked around. The room was small and very crudely furnished.

The meeting table was just a thick plank of wood on a few legs, but since it had been made by seasoned carpenters, it stood perfectly level and was extremely sturdy.

The table was strewn with a messy layer of blueprints—mostly designs for keels, ribs, and fastenings.

Had Lin Qian not designed ships himself, an ordinary person glancing at them would have had no idea what those parts were for.

Dust and scraps of paper piled up in the four corners of the room, and the air was thick with the smell of tobacco, wine, and sweat.

Lin Qian was all too familiar with this kind of environment—one look at the men in the room told him these were people who actually did the work.

He swept his gaze across the room and saw that all the shipyard's chief shipwrights were present. By the previous Macao evaluation system, these men were all A-grade shipwrights, with a scattering of a few B-grades among them.

Mute Huang was absent because he was in charge of transporting teak timber, so his apprentice Xiao Jiu attended in his place.

"Captain, I know your time is precious, so I won't waste words—I think there's a problem with your design."

The speaker was a Portuguese shipwright, about forty years old, with deep brown skin and a body of solid muscle.

Lin Qian recognized the man. His name was João Fernandes; the other carpenters called him Old Fei. In the carpentry tests, he ranked as A-class talent. The man spoke in broken Cantonese—his father was a Portuguese shipwright and his mother the daughter of a Ming shipwright, so his learning could be said to bridge East and West. He had grown up in Macao and worked in a technical field, dealing with few people, so he tended to be blunt and direct.

The carpenters around him scrambled to soften the sharpness of his criticism.

Lin Qian said, "No matter. Tell me your reasoning."

Old Fei casually flipped through the layer of blueprints and pulled out Lin Qian's design for the "clipper-bowed Fujian junk."

"This ship combines the Fujian junk with European design, which is good. But in my view, this sharp, pointed stern is meaningless. It greatly increases the ship's cost, and at the same time the speed is held back by the hard sails—it can't go fast anyway. It just wastes the storage space of the stern." "Old Fei, you're just a ship repairman—what do you know? Have you ever built a ship yourself?" A carpenter couldn't help but argue.

Old Fei said, "I've never built one with my own hands, but I've repaired too many ships—Fujian junks, Guangdong ships, galleons, yachts, fluyt merchantmen—I've worked on them all. No one knows better than I do what makes a good merchant ship."

Lin Qian said without changing his expression, "Tell me your view."

Old Fei said, "A good merchant ship comes in two kinds. One is low-cost with high cargo capacity. The other is fast with strong seaworthiness.

This ship, I think, can be developed toward the first kind. Remove the sharp stern, bring the underwater lines closer to a fluyt merchantman, and adopt a U-shaped hull bottom to increase cargo capacity. Because there's a keel, even with a U-shaped bottom, it will be very stable. And the draft is shallow, so it can enter small harbors.

At the same time, the ribs for a U-shaped bottom are easier to make and install, which reduces man-hours, lowers cost, and gets the ship into the water faster."

Lin Qian's eyes lit up.

Ever since he had designed the clipper-bowed Fujian junk in the Tianqi era, Lin Qian had felt dissatisfied with every version of the plan. Now he finally knew where the problem lay. Truly, professional matters should be left to professionals.

When designing merchant ships, Lin Qian had brought in a warship designer's mindset—focusing on stability and pursuing perfect performance alone, while ignoring the hull's cost and the ship's purpose as a merchant vessel.

He had also overlooked the reality that no matter how fast a merchant ship could sail, it still had to wait obediently for the monsoons.

Even if the ship were built to his specifications, it would still be unsuitable as a merchant vessel because it had no outstanding qualities.

Lin Qian then began discussing the details of the ship with him.

Old Fei said, "Because of the U-shaped hull bottom's limitations, it can't run very fast—I estimate the speed will be only four to five knots.

So I think rather than using complex rigging, it's better to use three large hard sails. The hard sails can be further reduced in manpower through complex pulley systems and winches. At the same time, keep the bowsprit—that spar gives the merchant ship space to hang a jib and a square sail, which is equivalent to adding two sail surfaces out of thin air. Soft sails are more efficient than hard sails when running with the wind, and a square sail on the bowsprit can boost downwind speed, making it more suitable for a merchant ship sailing with the monsoons."

Another shipwright said, "The southeast and South China Sea monsoons are fickle—even when there's a prevailing wind, it often shifts direction. Adding a jib will improve both speed and safety."

Yet another said, "This bowsprit doesn't need to be too sturdy. It can be made of cheap, light timber, like fir, and designed to be detachable—it takes up little space when docked and can also avoid collisions."

In a moment, the shipwrights' enthusiasm was all roused, and they offered suggestions one after another.

The various design details of this merchant ship were rapidly refined—far faster than Lin Qian racking his brains alone.

Just then, a knock came at the door of the meeting room.

"Master, it's time for lunch."

"Oh, bring it in." Lin Qian said.

As he spoke, Ran Qiu pushed the door open, followed by seven or eight servants carrying food boxes. Su Qingmei followed behind as well, with Xiao Hei at her feet—the dog lay down lazily as soon as it entered, its belly round and full.

The servants cleared the meeting table, then opened the food boxes and laid out individual portions of lunch, each one already divided up.

Every shipwright got a share, and they all found it surprising.

Ran Qiu said with a smile, "The master saw how hard you've all been working, so he specially ordered the household staff to prepare this."

At these words, the shipwrights' faces lit up with joy, and they thanked him repeatedly.

Lin Qian said, "Much obliged."

Ran Qiu smiled and said, "This servant will be sure to relay your words to the lady."

In truth, Lin Qian was so busy he forgot even to think about his own lunch—how could he remember the shipwrights' meal?

Today's meal had been arranged by Ye Zhen, who sent servants to prepare it.

The last time Lin Qian held a meeting, he had made do with cabbage soup over rice for lunch. When Ye Zhen learned of this, she gave Ran Qiu a thorough scolding. Since then, wherever Lin Qian's schedule took him, the general's household cooks followed—not only cooking for Lin Qian, but also preparing meals for those around him.

Ran Qiu was an extremely clever maidservant. Knowing she was not in a position to accept Lin Qian's thanks, she instead offered to relay his words to Ye Zhen.

Since the meal was prepared by the household's head chef, it was naturally far more delicious than cabbage soup over rice.

After they finished eating, Ran Qiu led the servants in to clear away the bowls and chopsticks, and took the opportunity to give the meeting room a quick cleaning—blueprints were arranged neatly on the racks, and dust and wood shavings in the corners were swept clean.

Before leaving, she even opened the meeting room windows for ventilation, then offered a bow and withdrew.

The shipwrights looked at the tidy meeting room and all felt refreshed.

A gentle breeze blew in through the window.

One shipwright exclaimed, "Not good!" and hurriedly pressed down on the blueprints, lest the wind blow them away.

But they saw that each stack of blueprints had paperweights on all four corners, held perfectly steady.

The shipwrights said nothing aloud, but inwardly they all admired the discipline of the general's household.

Old Fei said, "While we were eating, I sketched out a rough drawing. Take a look, everyone, and see if it's right."

With that, he laid a sheet of paper on the meeting table.

It was a conceptual drawing resembling a simple line sketch. The vessel in the picture looked at first glance like a Fujian junk, but on closer inspection it was broader and stouter than a Fujian junk, with a much larger sail-to-hull ratio. The hull was teardrop-shaped, resembling a whale.

Old Fei explained, "This ship is planned to be ten zhang long, two zhang five chi wide, with a draft of approximately nine chi."

Based on the ship's U-shaped hull form, Lin Qian estimated the block coefficient at around 0.7. Multiplying that by length, beam, draft, and the density of water, he calculated the vessel's full-load displacement at roughly six hundred tons.

The new merchantman's external dimensions should be similar to the Number One Great Fujian Junk, while its full-load displacement would exceed it.

Considering that this ship employed both watertight bulkheads and ribs, plus ten cannons, the new merchantman's deadweight coefficient would not be too low. Yet even with the payload restrictions, it could still carry roughly the equivalent of five and a half Fujian junks' cargo.

Someone frowned and said, "Since the design philosophy is low construction cost, why build such a large hull? You know that a keel timber this big won't be easy to find. Why not shrink the length and beam down to Fujian junk size?"

Old Fei shook his head: "We'll use a spliced keel."

Someone said, "Even with a spliced keel, you can only splice the stem post and stern post—the keel timber itself still needs to be a single piece."

Old Fei said, "No, the keel timber gets spliced too."

"Hiss—" A sound of sharply drawn breath filled the meeting room.

"A keel timber formed in one piece is a rule handed down from our ancestors—how can there be any logic in splicing the material?"

"A spliced keel timber is too brittle—it can't support a ship this large."

"Even if a spliced ship could put to sea, after a few voyages it would develop problems."

Old Fei shook his head firmly: "You're all wrong. Keel timbers can be spliced. As long as you limit it to three pieces joined with mortise-and-tenon and reinforced with metal fittings, there's no problem."

"Utter nonsense!" One elderly shipwright was so angry his beard trembled wildly.

Old Fei said, "This isn't nonsense—European warships use this very technique. The new flagship the Helmsman plans to build will also need its keel timber spliced this way."

Lin Qian looked at Xiao Jiu: "That yacht we dismantled earlier—was its keel made of spliced pieces?"

Xiao Jiu shook his head.

"See!"

"What splicing—utter nonsense!"

Xiao Jiu said, "However, its stem and stern posts were indeed fixed with special mortise-and-tenon joints plus cast-iron fittings. I think it's more reliable than the Fujian junk's fastening method." As he spoke, he took a notebook from his bosom and flipped to a page.

On it was drawn an exploded view of the yacht's keel.

In simple terms, the yacht's keel was a single straight timber, while the stem post and stern post were two separate timbers attached to the keel to create the upward curves of the bow and stern.

The connection between the stem post and the keel was extremely complex and precise.

There were countless wooden components of all sizes and strange shapes, and the number of ship nails used was beyond counting.

In particular, on the outside of the stem post, a cast-iron fitting shaped like a horseshoe was especially eye-catching.

Fortunately, it had been removed from the ship, so everyone knew it was for reinforcement.

Otherwise, any ordinary person seeing that component would only wonder where in the world there was a horse big enough to wear it.

With his professional intuition, Lin Qian could tell that this method of reinforcement was indeed reliable.

Looking at the several naval battles they'd fought, European warships had been seen to flood and sink, to have their powder magazines detonate, and to have their sterncastles fall apart—but never once had he seen a keel snap. That was supporting evidence.

Historically, European warships kept growing larger and larger. A single seventy-four-gun ship of the line required two thousand oak trees, yet the Europeans could still churn them out like dumplings in a pot. The keel timber surely couldn't have been formed in one piece—they must have had some method of splicing.

But with the direction set, how exactly did one build a spliced keel?

Lin Qian asked Old Fei.

Old Fei said he had only heard of it—no one had ever actually seen how the mortise-and-tenon connection of the keel was done.

Lin Qian immediately gave the order: "Send a hawk ship to catch up with the merchant convoy, have divers inspect the keels, and if any seams are found, sail the ship back."

Geng Wu sprinted off to relay the order.

Fortunately, the fleet had only left port that morning, and the merchant ships were slow, making little headway.

After sending divers down, they discovered that the Spice Road had a solid, unspliced keel beneath its hull, while the Endeavour had a seam.

Before evening fell, the Endeavour sailed back into Yandun Bay.

Geng Wu reported excitedly: "Helmsman, the Endeavour's keel has a seam in the middle of its length."

Lin Qian and the others had been discussing in the meeting room all afternoon. At these words, every carpenter looked at Lin Qian.

For the sake of advancing shipbuilding technology, it seemed the Endeavour would have to be sacrificed.

After five days and five nights of sleepless disassembly and study, a fast rider arrived from Yandun Bay with a report.

The keel of the *Jinqu* was indeed two sections of timber joined by mortise and tenon, reinforced with large wooden dowels and iron bolts running through to secure it.

The sacrifice of this ship was worthwhile—the shipwrights had thoroughly mastered the method of splicing large keel sections.

Lin Qian summoned the two directors of the Works Department and the Civil Household Department, along with Old Fei, to his residence that very night.

Lin Qian said, "It's getting late, so I'll be brief. Old Fei, are the design drawings for the new merchant ship finished?"

Old Fei, who had spent nearly five days sleeping only one or four hours a day to study the keel-splicing method, now sported two dark circles under his eyes but wore a highly excited expression: "Give me another fifteen days—no, ten. Ten days, and I'll produce the complete design drawings!"

Lin Qian said, "Let's make it fifteen days. Once the drawings are out, you'll be the chief engineer of the Zhangzhou shipyard!"

Old Fei asked excitedly, "Then... will I get to build a ship?"

Though the Macao shipyard had skilled shipwrights, it had never built a ship due to investment and material constraints—all it did was repair work.

Thus Old Fei's greatest life ambition was to participate in building a ship; compared to that, the position of chief engineer seemed less important. Lin Qian smiled and said, "Of course you can. And you can even name the first whale ship of the Zhangzhou shipyard!"

"Whale ship" was the name Lin Qian had given to the new merchant vessel—its shape resembled a whale, and its cargo capacity and tonnage exceeded even the fluyt merchant ships, making it essentially top of the line among merchant vessels.

"Thank you, Helmsman!" Old Fei said excitedly, clasping his fists.

Lin Qian said to the two directors, "For the Zhangzhou shipyard, the initial order for whale ships is three vessels. Additionally, the Ahat ships must continue to be built—prepare the silver." "Yes!" The two directors clasped their hands in acknowledgment.

Rough estimates put the construction cost of a single whale ship at about fifteen thousand taels of silver—compared to a Fujian junk of equivalent capacity, the cost was only a quarter of it. When these three ships took to the sea, they would set off a tremendous transformation in East Asian maritime trade.

At the same time, the huge order for three whale ships would accelerate the consolidation of the Zhangzhou shipyard and promote the construction of standardized workshops.

After the others had left, Lin Qian walked to the rear hill of the General's Mansion and gazed out over the waters of Qianjiang Bay.

In his eyes, he seemed already to see the zenith of maritime trade—merchant ships converging, coming and going without end, a scene of bustling prosperity.

Three whale ships were only the beginning. As maritime trade developed, he would build more merchant ships and more warships.

In pursuit of boundless profit, he would expand the market toward Siam, Toungoo, Mughal India, and the Ottoman Empire.

And ultimately, expand all the way to Europe, supplanting the Dutch in their position of world trade dominance.

The great age of navigation belonging to the Great Ming was about to arrive!

Yahei

Pink Round

Pen