Chapter 362: Hunting the Hunter Sloop, Onrust Island Falls

The area around Batavia was the estuary of numerous rivers, with severe silt buildup—even trestle bridges were rare, and there was nowhere to repair ships.

So the Dutch placed their shipyard on Onrust Island, where the water depth was about eight to ten meters, not far from Batavia—a location of unique advantage. In the beginning, the Company's investment in Onrust Island was not large; the island held only a few hundred laborers and two tidal slips, capable of repairing only ships under seven hundred tons. Later, as trade expanded, the island's defenses were continuously strengthened—especially after Governor-General Coen's death, when the Seventeen Directors sent large warships to Batavia and the shipyard's scale grew further.

Now the island boasted a stone bastion of formidable strength, mounting over forty cannons whose fire covered the entire island. Enemies could forget about landing—even approaching was a delusion.

This was why Fleet Commander Bosman was confident he could hold out for three months.

Hearing Bosman's words, the councilors felt somewhat reassured.

In Batavia, the Governor-General was the highest administrative authority, but he could not rule as a dictator—he was constrained by the Council.

The Council had eight standing members; some served as Minister of Finance or commander of the army and navy, while others were entrusted by the Seventeen Directors specifically to oversee the Governor-General.

Thus any major decision by Lucasson had to be explained to the Council.

A councilor frowned and asked, "What about fresh water?"

Another chimed in, "Right—Onrust Island's reservoirs hold at most a week's drinking water for the whole island. Now that the channel is blockaded by the enemy fleet, no fresh water can reach the island. What happens after seven days?"

Bald Royce said, "Aren't there still the two open cisterns?"

"That water's for the livestock!" a councilor snapped.

Because the shipyard on Onrust Island needed fresh water for washing decks, soaking timber, cleaning rust, and quenching blades, two open fresh-water cisterns had been built on the island, right beside the wind-powered sawmill shed.

The cisterns were open-air with no water circulation. Over the years, dust, wood shavings, and bird droppings had accumulated richly within—only the island's livestock would drink from them.

Royce said with a hint of sarcasm, "The noble Dutch gentlemen won't drink it, so let the Hokkien laborers drink it."

On Onrust Island there were now roughly twelve hundred people, of whom the Dutch—including management, soldiers, and technicians—numbered no more than two hundred. The remaining thousand were almost entirely Chinese and natives.

Let that thousand drink the cistern water, and the fresh-water problem was solved.

Several councilors fell into thought. One said, "Even so, the water will spoil. The cellar fresh water can last at most a month; the open cistern water spoils even faster. It still can't stretch three months."

Royce rubbed his bald head: "If it truly comes to that, we'll just have to reduce some of the water-consuming surplus population."

The Company's Minister of Finance protested, "Do you know how much a Hokkien laborer costs? Nearly two hundred florins! Eliminating them at will—that's destroying Company assets!"

The florin was the unit of the Dutch guilder.

Royce snorted coldly: "Petty merchant."

Because the Company's highest goal was profit, every council decision was measured by short-term gains and losses.

Even if the Dutch fleet sortied now and was certain to defeat the Great Xia fleet, they would hesitate out of fear of ship losses—and with the enemy's disposition still unclear, even less would anyone propose taking the offensive.

For a moment no one in the meeting room spoke. Fleet Commander Bosman then said with confidence, "Don't worry, gentlemen.

When the Great Xia envoy visited, I observed his junk warships—they're still equipped with outdated Portuguese breech-loaders, with firepower inferior to our seven-gun hunter sloops, and their speed doesn't match our hunter sloops either.

As long as we take the shallow-water route and evade the enemy's main fleet, we can deliver fresh water to the island!"

The councilors conferred among themselves and approved the battle plan.

The next morning at dawn, the sky was faintly light.

The commander of Onrust Island climbed the city wall and gazed out to sea. Through the morning mist, the Great Xia fleet spread across the anchorage waters off Batavia—their ships were extremely numerous, and three Great Xia yachts had even been assigned specifically to watch Onrust Island.

In the shallow waters where the yachts could not navigate, fast boats also stood guard, sealing the entire island airtight.

A wave of despair surged in the commander's heart.

"Lieutenant." The commander spoke.

The Dutch lieutenant in charge of the city defenses immediately snapped to attention: "Sir."

"How much fresh water do we have left?"

"The supply ship came last Friday. Our current fresh water is only enough for two days of drinking."

"Damn it!" The commander cursed, then looked toward Batavia. "What are the Governor-General and the councilors doing!" Suddenly, the lieutenant pointed at the distant sea and said, "Sir, look!"

The commander followed his pointing finger and indeed saw a small boat racing toward Onrust Island under the cover of the morning mist.

The lieutenant recognized the approaching vessel's type—it was a seven-gun hunter sloop—and said excitedly, "It's a Company ship!"

"Keep your voice down!" the commander said hastily.

It was just past dawn, the sea and sky still dim—the very time when lookouts were at their most drowsy. The hunter sloop was tiny on the sea surface, concealed by the sound of wind and waves, and quickly closed to within ten li of Onrust Island.

The lieutenant had already identified the vessel from its details and whispered, "It's the Firefly! It must be delivering fresh water!"

Just then, southwest of the Firefly, a signal rocket shot into the sky and burst—an eagle ship had spotted its trail.

Immediately, the three Sea Wolf ships blockading Onrust Island closed in.

The Firefly turned on the spot, using its high speed to maneuver against the Sea Wolf ships, successfully shaking off two of them.

The eagle ship closed in on its superior speed. The Firefly's broadside immediately loosed a volley—one three-pounder and two one-pounder swivel guns. The reports were not loud, but they still shattered the morning quiet, and the Dutch in the bastion hurried to the walls to watch.

The island's laborers all lived near the cisterns. Awakened by the cannon fire, they drifted to the shore in twos and threes to look out.

A youth who had risen early was wiping his face with a wet towel. Seeing this, he trembled with excitement, threw down the towel, and ran back to the work shed shouting to his companions, "Come out and look! The Great Xia army has come to save us!"

He spoke with a Yunnan accent and had only recently been sold to Onrust Island. Previously he had only heard of the Great Xia army's prowess from the townspeople's talk and had not taken it seriously—but he had been abused for half a month after arriving on the island, and now the Great Xia fleet had come. At this moment he cared nothing for the red barbarians' rules and excitedly pulled his companions outside to watch. An older laborer struggled to rise, glanced at the sky, and cursed, "Yellow Dog, what are you yowling about at this hour?"

Another rolled over lazily and said, "The Dutch catch smugglers all the time. There'll be chances to watch later. If we don't get our sleep now, we'll have no energy when work starts."

These were laborers whose families had lived here for generations, accustomed to the Dutch running rampant at sea—they had no regard for any damn Great Xia.

Still, quite a few laborers had been newly sold onto the island, and hearing this, they all followed Yellow Dog outside to gaze at the sea.

By now a good number of laborers had gathered on the shore—both Han and natives—and most wore expressions of someone watching a show.

Seeing Yellow Dog arrive, a native jeered in oddly accented Chinese: "Maybe if they come ashore today, the island will gain a few more Han!" "Hahaha..." The other natives burst into laughter together.

Having spent so long together, the natives and Han could each speak a bit of the other's language.

Yellow Dog angrily retorted, "The Great Xia army has come to save us!"

The native mimicked a Han scholar, wagging his head and intoning, "Not so, not so—hard, hard!"

The surrounding natives laughed again.

"You son of a bitch!" Yellow Dog rolled up his sleeves to throw a punch but was held back by his companions.

"Bear it a while longer, bear it a while longer..." the Han around him urged in low voices.

Huang Gouzi shot the native a glare, then continued watching the battle.

The Eagle Ship kept harassing the Dutch cutter, using its agility and speed to dodge the cutter's cannonballs while returning fire with flintlock muskets. Though it couldn't inflict much damage, the sound of bullets whizzing past threw the sail handlers into a panic, and they failed to adjust the sails in time, slowing the cutter considerably.

Seizing the opportunity, the Sea Wolf ship that had been shaken off gradually closed the distance.

The natives were momentarily deflated, while Huang Gouzi clenched both fists, silently repeating over and over: "Mazu protect us, Mazu protect us!"

Out on the sea, the Dutch cutter couldn't shake off the Eagle Ship no matter what. Suddenly it swung hard to starboard and charged straight at the Eagle Ship. The cutter had a three-pounder cannon at its bow, and seizing the chance as the distance closed, it fired abruptly. The cannonball shot straight through the Eagle Ship's Bermuda sail.

Though it caused no real casualties, the damaged sail greatly reduced the Eagle Ship's agility. It could only turn to starboard and fire from a distance, nearly dropping out of the fight. "Ooh-rah!" A burst of cheers rose from the Dutch soldiers on the bastion.

In front of the work sheds, the natives joined in the cheering. Someone shouted provocatively: "You're no match for the Dutch!"

Huang Gouzi cursed: "A pack of running dogs!"

The Han laborers, now finding the whole thing dull, filed back into the work sheds one after another. It was still early — before work started, they could grab another nap. Huang Gouzi cried out in alarm: "Don't go, don't go!"

One Han laborer said: "It's over already! The Dutch ships are fast and their firepower is fierce — we can't catch them, and even if we did, what then? Might as well lie down for a bit."

Huang Gouzi tried to persuade them, but that only made more laborers leave.

Just then, another volley of cannon fire sounded out at sea.

Huang Gouzi turned to look. The Sea Wolf ship had taken advantage of the cutter's turn to close in. Three Folangji cannons on its broadside, loaded with solid shot, fired rapid volleys at the cutter. Cannon thunder rolled without pause — three guns putting on the air of a ship-of-the-line's full broadside rotation.

At this, the Dutch cheers died down again, and the laborers' footsteps halted.

The two ships exchanged fire for several rounds, and gradually a difference emerged. The Sea Wolf's Folangji cannons were roughly equal in power to one-pounder swivel guns, while the cutter's three-pounders completely overwhelmed the Sea Wolf ship. The situation grew increasingly unfavorable for the Sea Wolf.

While the two ships were locked in their duel, another Sea Wolf ship sailed up to the cutter's port side. The cutter fought one against two, yet still held its own.

Seeing this, the Han laborers shook their heads. Someone sighed: "Compared to the red barbarians, we're still far behind. Let's go sleep."

"Impossible — there has to be a way!" Huang Gouzi said stubbornly.

The other Han laborers came over to pat his shoulder in consolation.

Still, a few scattered voices said: "They'll definitely win!" These were mostly Fujian and Guangdong sea merchants who had heard countless tales of the Great Xia army's undefeated record. The moment they saw the shield-and-halberd banner, they were already certain of victory.

By now the cutter was only five li from shore, close enough that figures on its deck could be seen from the beach.

The coastal defense cannons had an extreme range of roughly two li. The cutter only needed to sail another three li to come within their reach.

Though everyone knew that whether a cutter landed on the island or not wouldn't change their status as laborers — today's work still had to be done — they still wanted to see how it ended and refused to budge an inch.

On the bastion, the commander shouted: "Prepare the cannons!"

The captain ordered: "Gunners to your posts! The moment the enemy enters range, open fire!"

The gunners finished loading their ammunition and looked out at the battlefield. One gunner shouted: "Hurry! Sink that junk!"

Soon the cutter charged within four li, while the Sea Wolf ship, weathering the cutter's fire, kept closing the distance until less than a hundred paces separated them. The Sea Wolf crew brought out their newly issued Foye Type 02 flintlock muskets, loaded them, and hooked their boarding grapnels over the gunwale. Then guns and cannons fired together — a dazzling wave of orange-red flame burst from the Sea Wolf's side. The heavy muskets had greater chamber pressure, producing deep, heavy reports. Gunfire and cannon fire merged into one, like a sledgehammer slamming down beside a man's ear.

Solid lead balls left the barrels at high speed, blanketing the cutter's hull in a dense swarm.

The Dutch sailors had thought they'd suppressed the Sea Wolf with superior firepower and had victory in hand — then a storm of lead came crashing in. The cutter's thin bulwarks were punched straight through, and lead balls ricocheted wildly across the deck.

One Dutch gunner took a hit to the head, half his skull blown clean off. His cranium flew high into the air, spinning before splashing into the sea. Red and white matter splattered across the deck like flung water. His body crumpled, twitched a few times, and lay still.

Another gunner was struck in the shoulder. It was like being hit by a small cannonball — his scapula burst open from behind, bone fragments and lead shards mixed in with flesh and blood. The gunner collapsed with a heart-rending scream, and soon passed out from blood loss and pain.

"It's heavy muskets — return fire!" The captain of the Firefly shouted at the top of his lungs, crouching behind the helm.

The sailors grabbed their muskets and fired back, but Dutch firearms were designed for use both at sea and on land, resulting in a motley assortment of light and heavy guns aboard. When the broadsides exchanged fire, the Dutch shots came thin and scattered.

Just as the Dutch sailors were reloading, gunfire and cannon fire erupted again from the Sea Wolf ship on their starboard side.

Another Dutch gunner took a shot to the chest. The lead ball struck with a dull thud, snapped a rib, and blew straight through his heart, creating a penetrating wound. Blood spurted like a fountain from the exit wound in his back, arcing nearly three meters across the deck. Half the deck was stained crimson before the sailor even hit the ground — he was dead before he fell.

Some Dutch sailors were drenched in blood, frozen stiff with terror on the spot.

Others threw down their muskets and curled up in corners, sobbing with their heads in their hands.

There was no time to catch their breath — the port-side barrage arrived. The Folangji cannon's breech-loading design was indeed outdated for this era, but its rapid rate of fire at close range was nothing short of real.

And Great Xia had always valued its soldiers' lives while emphasizing training, so the Sea Wolf gunners' reloading proficiency was actually higher than even the Folangji men themselves. When a five-man gun crew went into rapid fire, the smoke from the barrel barely had time to dissipate.

One Sea Wolf ship firing rapidly at close range was already formidable enough — but the Dutch cutter had provoked two of them.

The interwoven barrages of the two Sea Wolf ships never let up for a moment.

For a time, the Dutch on the cutter were pinned down by the endless hail of fire, forced to crouch cowering behind the bulwarks, all their earlier glory of fighting one against two gone. And to make matters worse, a third Sea Wolf ship arrived, taking position off the cutter's stern quarter.

This Sea Wolf ship had hurried along the whole way without firing a single shot — its gun barrels were cold, with no worry whatsoever about overheating.

They had chased the whole journey, and everyone from captain to gunner had a belly full of pent-up anger. Now that fury poured out entirely as cannonballs.

A single ship surrounded and pounded by three Sea Wolf ships — this had never happened in Great Xia, and it was extremely rare in the entire history of Dutch seafaring. But the cutter was built of oak, tough and durable. Though it looked like it was being shredded with wood chips flying everywhere, the heavy matchlock muskets' lead balls could barely penetrate its two layers of hull planking, so it wasn't about to sink easily.

And at such close range, the Folangji cannons had all switched to anti-personnel grapeshot, so the cutter's hull was even less likely to take on water.

For the Dutch, this was the equivalent of having their beheading turned into a death by a thousand cuts.

The Dutch soldiers on the island were stunned speechless. The entire bastion fell into dead silence.

Beside the work sheds, the Han laborers wore expressions of utter disbelief. Some, wary of the Dutch, dared not cheer.

Huang Gouzi and his companions paid that no mind, shouting their approval at the top of their lungs until their voices went hoarse.

The natives, by contrast, looked as if they had lost their own parents — silent and deflated, all their earlier arrogance gone without a trace.

Amid the crowd's varied reactions, the Dutch cutter was bombarded relentlessly for nearly half an hour. Since the Folangji cannons had no chain shot, the three Sea Wolf ships used grapeshot to shred the cutter's sails into a sieve, forcing it to heave to.

Finally the cutter came to a stop two and a half li from the bastion, and moved no more.

Seeing this, the commander of Anzu Island roared: "Damn those Huo Jian devils! They fight with no honor at all! Damn them, damn them! Open fire!" The Dutch soldiers on the bastion had watched their own men get beaten for half an hour, their fury at the breaking point. They no longer cared about cannon range — they angled their barrels high and blasted away at the distant ship silhouettes.

The cannonballs landed wildly off target. The closest shot fell a hundred paces off the Sea Wolf's port bow.

Far from being intimidated, one of the Sea Wolf ships actually sailed closer, turning left and right, shifting sails, tacking back and forth against the wind — showing off and taunting at the same time.

When faced with provocation, if you can't answer it, the best course is to ignore it. But the Dutch had fired first, and the Great Xia Sea Wolf ships not only showed no fear but sailed straight into the gunfire, making the Dutch look like clowns.

"Damned barbarian heathens who belong in hell! Honorless lowborn scum! Aaagh!" The commander, furious beyond reason, drew his sword outright, wishing he could leap into the sea and duel the Great Xia men.

The captain held the commander back.

Seizing the moment, the other two Sea Wolf ships came alongside the cutter and tossed the shattered Dutch corpses into the sea like garbage. This was no deliberate insult — out on the vast open ocean, there was simply nowhere to bury them even if they'd wanted to.

Moreover, this seven-cannon hunter boat was superior to the Sea Wolf in both speed and firepower, its length, width, and displacement were similar to the Sea Wolf's, and it had value for reverse-engineering research. Though it looked battered, it hadn't actually taken on water, making it highly worth capturing.

After the crew finished clearing away the corpses, they hauled the damaged oak barrels out of the hold and tossed them into the sea.

These oak barrels had all been filled with fresh water, but their sides had been riddled with holes by grapeshot, the water had long since leaked out, and the barrels were too rotten to repair, so they simply threw them all away.

The Sea Wolf's crew searched the entire ship and found only fresh-water barrels, three living Dutch prisoners, and some broken guns — nothing else of value. They all cursed their bad luck.

Meanwhile, the commander at Onrust Island watched this scene, his eyes nearly bulging from their sockets. From his distance, he couldn't see the holes in the barrels and only assumed the Great Xia men were pouring fresh water into the sea to humiliate him. It enraged him nearly to madness.

To the Dutch on Onrust Island, this precious fresh water was a life-saving commodity worth its weight in gold!

About two hours later, the Firefly was fully cleaned, and the Great Xia crewmen looped ropes around her hull, cheerfully towing their prize back to the anchorage.

Since the founding of the Dutch East India Company, in the waters of Java it had always been they who robbed others — this was the first time they had been robbed. The commander let out a long sigh and dejectedly sheathed his sword.

The lieutenant said, "Sir, it seems that for the time being, we'll have to rely on rainwater."

The commander said, "Notify the whole island: implement fresh-water rationing. Have the laborers outside the bastion drink from the square pond. Gather all the sails, pots, and bowls together, and prepare to collect fresh water when it rains."

A guard went down to relay the order, and the lieutenant advised in a low voice, "Sir, let the Han laborers drink rainwater — it's cleaner than the pond water."

The commander said angrily, "Why should I care about those Hokkien people?"

The lieutenant said meaningfully, "The first article of the Manila Treaty requires the Spanish to apologize to the Han sojourners. Sir, you must think of the future."

The commander snapped back to his senses in an instant.

In the past, the natives of Java had the support of the Islamic faith and Mataram behind them, while the Han had nothing and could swallow their grievances in silence, making them the easiest to bully. But now a maritime empire had suddenly been born to the north, one that used the mistreatment of Han people as a pretext to declare war.

If Onrust Island fell, the commander's fate would very likely depend on how he had treated the Han on the island.

The commander naturally knew that protecting sojourners was merely Great Xia's pretext for war, but since their strength was inferior, for the sake of the future — even if Great Xia's pretext were protecting animals — he would have to keep the island's chickens and dogs well cared for.

At this thought, the commander ordered, "Do as you say... wait. The Han laborers don't need to work today. Also, from today onward, Dutch soldiers and natives are forbidden from bullying the Hok... the Han. Go."

When the lieutenant led the Dutch soldiers charging into the labor shed, all the natives wore gloating expressions — but when the lieutenant announced the commander's order, the natives' smiles froze on their faces.

The Han laborers who had lived on the island for generations wore looks of utter disbelief, and some repeatedly clasped their hands and bowed in gratitude.

But Huang Gouzi angrily said, "We are people, not beasts! Why should we be made to drink rainwater?"

"Are you mad? Shut up!" Someone inside pulled at him.

Huang Gouzi shook off the man's hand and glared at the lieutenant.

The Dutch lieutenant looked back at him. Just when everyone thought Huang Gouzi was done for, the lieutenant merely said, "From today onward, the Han laborers move to the northern shed, and the natives live in the southern one."

Then he turned and left, leaving all the laborers utterly dumbfounded.

The island's northern and southern sheds were about the same size, both with long communal sleeping platforms, extremely crowded — once you turned on your side to sleep, you couldn't roll back over. The island had fewer than four hundred Han, while the Malay natives numbered over six hundred.

The Han moving to the north meant the Han got more room while the natives got more cramped.

In an instant, the natives fell from second-class citizens of the island to the lowest class, all frozen in place.

For the next five days, Great Xia's blockade of Onrust Island continued.

The Dutch attempted several times to ship fresh water to Onrust Island, all without success.

Though the seven-cannon hunter boats were fast, they were no match for the sheer number of Sea Wolf ships — a single small boat could hardly break through the Sea Wolf encirclement.

If multiple hunter boats sortied together, the losses and risks would be too great — it would be like the tactic of feeding troops into a fire bit by bit, a slow suicide.

The councilors of the Governor-General's office paced in agitation, and some raised the old proposal again — to seek peace with Great Xia.

Lucas Song and the other war hawks disagreed, proposing instead to abandon Onrust Island, and the two sides argued endlessly.

After five days of siege, the fresh water in Onrust Island's bastion reservoir had long since run dry.

It was now the end of Java's rainy season, and three rains had indeed fallen in those five days — but rainfall in this region always came as brief downpours. Onrust Island, being coastal and affected by salt spray, had its first flush of rain bitter and salty, and dusty besides, so it generally had to be discarded. The rainwater that could actually be collected was not much.

And the collection process was fraught with bacteria throughout. Batavia was also a hotspot for dysentery — drinking rainwater raw was suicide, and boiling it consumed vast amounts of firewood.

But Onrust Island had no large tracts of primary forest; they could only burn the shipyard's precious oak, yet oak couldn't withstand the massive demand for boiling water, and the supply soon ran out. By now, even the Dutch had daily water rations, and everyone was so parched their lips were cracked and their mouths so dry that a handful of sand wouldn't even stick inside. More than a dozen Dutch soldiers, unable to bear the thirst, drank raw water and ended up with diarrhea all day, filling the bastion with a sour stench.

Miserable as it was, the Dutch could still hold out — as long as someone could man the cannons, the Great Xia warships couldn't land on the island.

Just as the commander was desperately longing for fresh water, the lieutenant came to report: "Sir, among the Han laborers, someone said that the Great Xia military, when dealing with prisoners of war, investigates the civilian casualties they caused."

"What do you mean?"

The lieutenant said, "In other words, if our defense of the city causes heavy casualties among the laborers... we're finished. We'd probably be—"

A chill ran through the commander, and he hastily pressed, "Is this true?"

"When the Great Xia army fought in the southwestern mountains of the Great Ming, they applied this very standard — of all the captured barbarian chieftains, almost not one was spared; all were executed..."

No need to ask — there were certainly many laborers on the island with diarrhea by now; that sour stench had long since drifted into the bastion on the wind. If they kept drinking rainwater and pond water, deaths were only a matter of time.

The commander was dumbfounded, and finally said, "It seems the Company has abandoned us. Let us surrender."

The next day, another water ship failed to break through Great Xia's blockade and returned empty-handed, and it also carried the news of Onrust Island's fall — turning Fleet Commander Bosman's promise to hold Onrust Island for three months into a complete joke.

With failure piled upon failure, Bosman was stripped of his rank outright and demoted to an ordinary ship captain.

The council decided that the post of fleet commander would be temporarily filled by Lucas Song.

And Lucas Song's first decision was to send Bosman's ship to the Spice Islands to seek reinforcements.

Batavia now had to prepare for the worst-case scenario — a decisive fleet battle, which required gathering all its strength. Moreover, in Lucas Song's view, a clown like Bosman who had failed repeatedly was getting off too lightly with just a demotion.

He should atone with his death!

Yahei

Pink Round

Pen