Chapter 35: Raging Sea: Hainan

The fishing boat sailed with the wind, and the weather seemed continuously fine, though no one knew how long it would last. The boatmen, encountering the expedition team for the first time, were very curious about us mysterious strangers and kept whispering among themselves, guessing the purpose of our voyage.

The scenery at sea was monotonous; what left an impression on me was that gem-like blue, the vast deep blue merging with the distant sky, like a slowly rising blue continent, shimmering with the glazed light of primeval antiquity.

In the first few nautical miles, we passed many very tiny islands, most of them bare, with a few short shrubs on some, seeming to show life's tenacity. A Ning told me that the islands visible above the water were just a small part of the island chain here. The large coral reefs were originally underwater, and only after tens of millions of years of coral polyp accumulation and reef-building did they gradually emerge above the surface. But the reef-building process continues, so to this day there are numerous scattered reefs and shoals either underwater or alternately visible and concealed.

After leaving the port area, we saw nothing related to land for a long time, and even seabirds disappeared. Occasionally, a few fishing boats similar to ours appeared on the horizon, reminding us that we were still within the range of human activity. However, this trace of excitement soon vanished into the boundless end of the sky and sea.

It was only then that I understood why that mysterious tomb owner had chosen to place his burial chamber in the sea. The nearly infinite expanse of the ocean had no recognizable features. In those days without satellite positioning or navigation records, for grave robbers to find traces hidden beneath the sea surface with just their eyes was almost a fantasy.

However, although we had precise navigation records and advanced equipment this time, I was still not confident that we could find the ancient tomb buried in the sand layer on the seabed within just four or five hours, through the clear seawater that allowed a visibility of over thirty meters.

A young fisherman at the bow suddenly began singing a famous Hainan fishing song. The rustic singing echoed across the empty sea. Whether the song highlighted the serene vastness of the scene, or the scenery made the song more ethereal and distant, my restless mood gradually calmed.

The sea wind began to pick up four hours after departure, and the boat's rocking intensified. The deck creaked rhythmically. With over ten hours of travel fatigue and seasickness, I gradually fell asleep as drowsiness set in.

I didn't know how long I'd slept. When I woke up groggily, the light seemed dim, and I thought it was evening. Turning my head, I saw that the weather had changed.

Just then, the boat captain hurried past me with a worried expression. I stopped him and asked, "Captain, judging by the sky, are we in for strong winds?"

The boat captain sighed, pointed into the distance, and said to me in very stiff Mandarin: "Yes, there is a storm, very big, coming."

I followed his finger and saw a strange black line on the distant horizon, splitting the originally continuous sky and sea into two halves.

I asked him, "What should we do? Should we continue on our way?"

He shook his head and said, "Can't continue, strong wind, need to find a rocky shoal to shelter from the wind."

Seeing his serious expression, I knew he wasn't exaggerating, and I started to feel anxious

I walked into the cabin to discuss things with Baldy Zhang. He already knew the news and said to me with a worried face, "According to the skipper, there's a pressure system ahead. We have to change course immediately and make for the nearest reef to take shelter, otherwise this little fishing boat with only two engines will definitely get sucked into the heart of the storm, and the consequences would be unthinkable. But that means our arrival at Huaguang Reef will be delayed by several hours."

I asked if there was any way to take another route — those few hours could mean the difference between life and death for the people below. The skipper shook his head and said, "The storm isn't standing still. It's moving fast — the boat can't outrun the wind. There's no time to go around." After he said that, he shouted and started deploying the crew. Baldy patted me on the shoulder and told me not to worry. He said, "This kind of thing is fated. Getting anxious won't help. Don't let your mind run wild — we'll do our best."

I saw he was sincere, thanked him, then took off my shoes and joined the busy crew barefoot.

The tropical storm arrived quickly. Before all the supplies on deck were fully secured, the dark clouds had already merged together, blocking out all sunlight. The sea suddenly turned a terrifying black. The waves began to churn, and at that moment one of our engines died. Our speed dropped to three knots. The small boat was practically at the mercy of the waves, drifting like a helpless withered leaf in a raging current.

The skipper, his voice already hoarse from shouting, told the mechanic to rush repairs and ordered us to watch the radio — if any ship passed nearby, we were to send a distress signal.

I was soaked through by the spray. I could only hold onto the iron rings on the gunwale to steady myself. Beyond the railing, it was like a hellish angry sea — the black ocean was boiling, waves like hills one after another. We rose and fell as if riding a roller coaster with no safety restraints. Unless you've been through it yourself, there's no way to understand that feeling.

We kept rocking like that until evening, when the boat finally moved away from the tropical storm cloud cluster. The waves calmed down a bit. By then the stalled engine was fixed too. The skipper shouted, and we opened up full throttle, fleeing toward a reef seven nautical miles away.

I was cold and hungry. The skipper called me into the cabin, where there was already hot ginger soup ready. I downed a big bowl, changed into a waterproof wetsuit, ate some chocolate and beef, and finally recovered.

The experts traveling with us were all in bad shape. Old Gu, who already got seasick easily, was even worse once the storm hit — he was groggy and his lips had turned purple. Mu Ziqi banged his head on a doorframe while moving stuff and was covered in blood, nearly scaring Baldy Zhang to death. The youngest, Wu Yong, was even more problematic — he couldn't swim but insisted on coming on deck, saying he wanted to experience the passionate side of the sea. A big wave hit and we couldn't find him. The skipper thought he'd been washed overboard, but when he ran over, he saw Wu Yong hanging off the gunwale outside, too scared to even call for help.

A Ning, on the other hand, was fine — she still looked as cold and indifferent as ever, as if she was used to such storms. During the break, she also changed into a tight wetsuit. While eating, she was directing a few people to reinforce the net ropes securing the supplies. Her short hair fluttered in the sea breeze, and her well-proportioned figure, set off by her wheat-colored skin, shimmered with a moving radiance.

The foreign ship's doctor came to consult me, saying that Professor Gu was a bit dehydrated and asked if there was any way to make the boat less bumpy. I thought to myself, this foreigner's humanitarian awareness is really high, but his ability to read the situation is a bit lacking. Look at what kind of boat you're on — do you think I have any say in whether it rocks or not?

He asked me to go talk to the skipper about it, saying it would be best to sail more steadily. I said to him, "For something like this, please go discuss it with the Dragon King. Don't come to me — I'm not in charge of that."

That foreigner didn't know who the Dragon King was, so he went around the boat asking everyone, "Who is the Dragon King? Are you the Dragon King?" The crew was exhausted and nobody paid him any attention. He went around asking but couldn't find the Dragon King, so he just helplessly shrugged at me.

We had only rested for about twenty minutes when the waves grew large again. The skipper shouted from the bow, "The storm's catching up! Hurry, hurry! Stop eating! Those who can't swim, get back to the cabin and don't come out!"

I walked to the bow to look out. I could vaguely see a mass of ink-black clouds spreading toward us, even lower than when we first saw them.