Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Fiction Group 3 | Page 204

An Unfavorable Journey
Shanghai American School-Pudong, Zhao, Sean - 13
The months following the departure of the first wave of seven treasure fleets sent as ambassadors
were inauspicious- the imperial palace of the Forbidden City burned down as if by a giant ball of
fire sent as some form of divine punishment, while the emperor Zhu Di’s cabinet disintegrated,
throwing the government into a state of turmoil while the peasants who formed the basis of
China’s economy were reduced to eating grass. An epidemic of an unknown disease ravaged the
province of Fujian where over 174,000 people died.
And only two of the four treasure ships of the first fleet ever returned from exploring the south of
the Indian Ocean. The other expedition force successfully came back with exotic animals and
abundant new plant species, only to find their country a leaderless shambles.
The Chinese armada’s ships had a length of 146 meters; their crew provided for with
hundreds of tons of water, vegetables, and dried fish. They were capable of staying at sea for up to
three months and travel at least 8,400 miles without making a single stop. The fleet was
supplemented by grain ships and water tankers, and the larger ships carried holding pens for pigs.
The following comprises of the diary entries of a low-ranking officer on the one of the two
returning ships.
19 January, 1421.
The Yongle Emperor Zhu Di himself saw us off at the Dragon’s Bay in Nanjing, along
with a thousand cheering civilians. We set sail out of the Yangtze with high spirits, looking
forward to bringing glory and wealth to our country.
Night fell. We gathered on the deck and broke out casks of rice wine and bowls of fish
porridge, while singing an ancient sailors’ song.
When we reach the Indian Ocean, our fleet separates into two: ours to voyage down south and
continue; another to turn north and venture into the unknown.
31 January, 1421.
We are eight days into our voyage, and not a single storm. I say that our fleet is blessed by
both the Emperor and the gods. The Malay archipelago has just appeared on our horizon, and we
will stop to take on provisions and some of their famed spices from the traders that so frequently
dock here.
We are on one of the six smaller ships that disembarked on the archipelago. Captain
Zheng He, the envoys, and the noblemen are of course on our capital ships, basking in the
comfort of being waited on by a thousand serving men. The island locals proved to be friendly and
even approached to offer us their primitive fare of spit roasted sea turtle, which turned out to be
succulent and rich. Our cook Ah Jing has taken that to note and hopefully will serve it on the
ship, in order to break the monotony of the meals that only consist of soy, porridge, and fruits.
The privilege of dining on meat is only available onboard capital ships, which have pigpens,
though I cannot imagine bearing the stench of swine for these years that will be spend at sea.
The other crew members are loading crates onboard, and we set sail at dawn tomorrow, heading
to the Indian Ocean, where the other ships of our armada have gone their separate ways: one
group beyond the western horizon and north; ours down south.
16 February, 1421
We have reached the lush tropical shores of an uncharted island. I am writing this as the
crew prepare the rowboats so we can land. The men are hushed with both anticipation and fear-
there have been stories of man-eating savages on such islands. The objective of this unnecessary
and dangerous landing is to map the island and document indigenous flora and fauna, while
searching for spices and herbs to take home to the emperor.