Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 | Page 192

The Diary of a Boatswain in the Ming Treasure Voyages
Sha Tin College, Ngai, Nicholas - 11
11/07/1405
Dear Diary
Today is the day of the departure Ming’s Treasure Fleet. Everybody’s excited about that day, and they’re all
complimenting the Emperor’s great “generosity” and “thoughtfulness”. Me, personally, I think it’s a bunch
of old tosh. Old Yongle’s gone out of his mind. Giving up and risking so many things just to award other
people for doing nothing? And what could possibly not go wrong with Zheng He as Admiral? And half the
crew is gonna end up betraying us and steal all the treasure away for themselves.
Anyway, the Emperor held a big banquet for the crew members of the treasure fleet. At first I didn’t want
to go, but the Emperor said how “wonderful” the expedition would be. At last he convinced me, but not
because I wanted to go, but because I wanted him to shut his mouth. Also, if I didn’t go, I would receive a
hundred thrashes personally from him. So overall, it was more forcing than convincing. And I heard from
somewhere that the Emperor was looking for “volunteers”. Wow, I’m really starting to see the
thoughtfulness in this guy.
At some point during the banquet, the Emperor gave out gifts to each of the crew members of the voyage
according to their rank - so that meant I would receive a gift as well! Finally! Some respect for me! I’m
starting to see a turn in this guy’s personality. Knowing Emperor Yongle, I’m not expecting the gift to be all
fancy or whatever, and it turned out I was correct. When I received my gift, it looked tiny in its wrapping
paper - but hey - who’s counting? I mean, less is more, right? A gift is better than no gift, right? Well,
unless if its a bomb. But when I tore open the wrapping paper I found something even worse than a bomb
- no, thankfully not a nuke, but a lump of coal.
How did you know that was just what I wanted? Gee, thanks a lot.
After that nonsense, sacrifices and prayers were offered to Tianfei, the patron goddess of sailors, hoping to
ensure a successful journey and a safe passage during the voyage. When it was my turn I snickered at how
long and stupid her dress-cloak looked like, causing a storm with Admiral Zheng He when he caught me
red-handed.
When we were finally finished, Emperor Yongle announced that everyone would go back to their rooms
and prepare for the departure and return here in one hour’s time. Then one by one the members of the
crew filed out of the room with full stomachs. I returned to my room, which is where I am writing this
now. I know I’m supposed to be packing, but I’ve already done that in the morning, so here I am. But I’ve
locked the doors anyway to avoid any misunderstanding. Hang on - I hear Wang Jinghong calling me - I’ll
inform you on the latest news when I’m on the ship - okay, okay, coming…
Okay, I’m back. Right now I’m below deck on the ship - locked all doors, all curtains drawn again. I
never knew the hour had passed so fast. I was the latest. I still have that very vivid memory of me walking
down the hall by myself, footsteps echoing off the narrow walls of the room. I could still remember every
single pair of cold eyes in the hall fixed upon me, and the Emperor’s cruel snarl when I reached him.
“You’re late.”
The slight thought of it made me shudder. I guess old Yongle’s was in a real hurry and was eager to get us
departed earlier, so he didn’t have time to decide my punishment yet. So I hope he forgets about it all when
we come back. Even though the man is as old as time, his brain is literally a library. He can literally
remember everything. The time you spilt coffee on his lap eighteen years ago? Check. The poem your
teacher ordered you to recite as homework when you were in preschool? Got that. It’s like everything he
has heard or saw has been seared into his memory. But the thing that annoys me is that the stuff that he
wants to remember are unforgettable, and the things that he doesn't, like the time he still owes you five
dollars or the time he saw your grandpa nude are forgotten immediately - it’s like he gets to choose what to
remember and what to not.
Anyways, here I am at the ship. It’s 7:13 pm - we’re going to depart in 17 minutes. I’m drawing out the
curtains and I can see the sea - a vast, open space full of mysteries - also known as the middle of nowhere. I
vomit into a bucket. Gross. Some of it gets on this diary. Double gross. I just need to scrub it off with my
finger - there. Ugh.
The ship gives a sudden jolt, making me lurch off my bed. The sick spills out of the bucket. Messy.
Something tells me that there are no cleaners on this ship.
I know that there is only so less information you know about this expedition, so I’m gonna fill you in with
the basics - there were 27,800 men departing from Nanjing (which is where we’re currently at) on 255