Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 | Page 113

A Sea Adventure
Island School, Ho, Abigail - 13
The sea has always been my paradise-the rippling, bubbling waves sloshing around the bay, full of life. I
stand at the edge of the water, the ocean breeze rustling through my hair. In the distance, tiny sailboats glide
along the water, sails flapping as calmly as a butterfly’s wings. My heart flutters, and the familiar longing
sensation weaves its way back into my mind. Oh, how I long to be one of them! How I long to be a sailor,
feeling the wind on my face, my small wooden boat gracefully gliding along the tranquil waters like a sheet
of ice… It’s time to go. I take one last glance at the blue, blue sea, then turn around and head back.
I walk towards my bedroom, passing by my father’s work desk, when I notice something I’ve never seen
before. Cautiously, I creep over. A sketch and planning of a large fleet of ships are drawn onto a piece of
paper. I run my fingers across the lines of ink, heart leaping. What is this? Is it possible? Is my father about to
take a huge fleet of ships on journey out to the wide, wide ocean?
The sea. The sea! The wondrous, shimmering blue stretches out in front of me. I clutch the handlebar and
close my eyes, facing the strong east wind. I can’t believe my father has allowed me to go on this trip! I can’t
believe it. I’m actually, physically here! On the leading ship with the admiral, my own father, Zheng He,
about to set off on a voyage out onto the deep, deep blue. Behind me, the sailors haul big loads of rice and
meat onto the lower deck of the big ship, and the wooden floorboards creak under its weight. Large barrels
of water stand on one side of the ship, and scattered tools lay on the other. Long, heavy steel masts are piled
on the bottom deck, next to the bunks. Although the sailors have to sleep on those shelf-looking bunks, at
least I get a nice, small bedroom of my own!
The sailors pull up the sail, and once latched into place, my father runs over to the ship’s end and unties the
rope that held it to the pier. All of a sudden, I feel a jerk, and the ship lurches forward, powered by the
wind. It hasn’t been ten seconds, and we are already a hundred metres away from the shore! At last, we’re
on our way- sailing out onto the bright blue waters, just as I have been dreaming since I first saw the ocean.
I feel the wind on my face. The faint smell of salt and fish waver into my nose as I stare out into the vast
ocean. First stop: Vietnam!
We’ve been on this ship for about a week now, and each day just gets more exciting. I love waking up each
morning to the sounds of the gentle waves crashing onto the sides of our boat. Swish, swash, swish, swash. I
love the spare time we have, when I always stand out on the upper deck and stare out into the vast, tranquil
water, bathed in the glow of the glorious sunshine. On this particular day, I am on deck, as usual, squinting
out into the distant ocean, when suddenly, I spot something unusual. Directly overhead, I see a large black
mass. What could it be? Quickly, I run downstairs to the lower deck, where my father is eating his breakfast.
“ Ba ba!” I shout, “Come and see!” My father follows me to the upper deck, and I show him the black mass
looming up in front. Several other black dots have gathered up behind it. Father squints at the lump, and his
face lights up. He runs downstairs calling “LAND AHOY! LAND AHOY!” We’ve arrived at last! Vietnam,
here we come!
We have spent four days in this little country, and now we’re off, back to China. The king of Vietnam has
offered us tons of goods! Noodles, spices, herbs… all these new delicious tastes! The countryside itself is
beautiful, too. Dotted around everywhere are splendid blue lakes, with small red boats sailing calmly along
the smooth waters, sails fluttering. Small yet tall hills sit perched on top of the waters, like tiny islands
floating in the lake. Waterfalls drop from the sheer edge of tall, rocky cliffs, and shimmer and sparkle in the
beautiful sunlight.
It’s been two days on this ship again, and on the third morning of our trip back to China, I wake up to the
sound of people scurrying about, with nervous and anxious looks on their faces. What could be happening?
I race up the stairs, and a chaos greets me up on deck. Some are busy carrying extra sails up onto the deck,
some are bringing all our food and valuables downstairs to the large, hidden storage area. I fight my way
through the crowd and glance out into the sea. It’s rough, with big waves crashing and slamming against our
ship. The water is grey and scary, as if it were a monster trying to swallow me whole. I look past miles of