Chapter 33: The Galleon’s Harvest
Doctor, Crew Member, Base.
This trip to the Great Ming, Lin Qian came precisely for these three things.
If they can be completed smoothly, then his maritime hegemony will have a solid foundation laid.
Lin Qian picked up the bamboo brush and solemnly wrote these three things on the Sea Log, then circled them.
After Lin Qian finished the Sea Log, he walked out of the Cabin and stretched lazily in the humid sea breeze.
At this time, half of the sunrise had emerged above the Sea Surface, illuminating the sea and sky with brilliant golden light.
Chen Jiao’s voice urging the Crew Members to get up sounded from below the Deck.
Ten-odd minutes later, the Crew Members finished breakfast and climbed onto the Deck one after another, beginning preparations for departure.
Chen Jiao climbed out of the Cabin, and upon seeing Lin Qian already standing at the Ship’s Rail, he was slightly stunned, then walked up and teased: “Helmsman, did you get up early or go to bed late?”
“Either way works.” Lin Qian laughed easily.
Chen Jiao patted Lin Qian’s shoulder and said: “Don’t push yourself too hard.”
Lin Qian squinted toward the sunrise: “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”
Hearing this, Chen Jiao stopped persuading and asked: “Sailing northwest again today?”
“Using the Hai Ren Needle, we’re going to the Pearl River Estuary.” Lin Qian said.
The Hai Ren Needle is a directional expression based on the Chinese Compass, roughly equivalent to north by west 15 degrees.
“Got it, Hai Ren Needle.” Chen Jiao took the Compass from his bosom, commanded the Crew Members to hoist sail and depart, the Helmsman turned the rudder, and moments later, the Galleon slowly advanced.
While Chen Jiao was directing the voyage, the Cook Chen Bo came carrying breakfast, and seeing Lin Qian standing at the Ship’s Rail, he said apologetically: “Helmsman, the Fuchuan Ship’s Dry Rations weren’t brought over; there’s only this on the Franks’ ship.”
Lin Qian glanced at the Meal; in the exquisite porcelain plate were a few pieces of Hard Biscuit and Salted Meat.
Before the Galleon set sail, no Fresh Ingredients were stocked on the ship, only some that keep well.
“It’s fine; there’s enough Water and Food on the ship, right?” Lin Qian had high tolerance for food.
“Enough there is…” Chen Bo looked troubled. “But the appearance is really awful… most have worms… Oh, Helmsman, eat first and we’ll talk later.”
“Wriggling” Hard Biscuit, “maggot-flavored” Salted Meat—this is the European Navy’s classic “close your eyes meal.” No need for description; Lin Qian could imagine its quality.
“No matter; put the breakfast in my Room.” Lin Qian said.
Chen Bo acknowledged and carried the plate into the Captain’s Cabin.
Lin Qian moved his body in the sunlight, still feeling a faint ache in his waist. Thinking it might be that blow from last night injuring the bone, he decided to find a Doctor to check after docking.
Then Lin Qian entered the Captain’s Cabin, sat at the dining table, and inspected his breakfast.
Good news: no wriggling surprises. Bad news: truly hard to swallow.
The Hard Biscuit wouldn’t yield when chewed dry; mixed with water, it was like eating wall plaster.
The Salted Meat, soaked or not, tasted like a lump of salt.
Evidently, his self-assessment of “high tolerance for food” was somewhat exaggerated.
To be fair, Hard Biscuit and Salted Meat have methods for further processing and aren’t usually eaten directly.
But Lin Qian felt that even a skilled cook can’t cook without rice; further processing wouldn’t improve it much.
By comparison, the Great Ming people, who regard food as paramount, far lead in naval provisions.
For example:
Fried rice, fried flour, dry cakes, pouches.
Preserved meat, salted fish, pickled shrimp sauce.
Fermented tofu, fermented beans, dried tofu.
Pickled vegetables, tea leaves, preserved fruit, sugar.
These provisions on Great Ming sea ships not only keep without spoiling for long periods but also balance taste and nutrition, especially supplying vitamins to Crew Members and preventing scurvy.
Utilitarianly speaking, these foods also guarantee combat strength.
Lin Qian resolved inwardly that after docking, he must procure a batch of Dry Rations suited to Chinese stomachs for the ship, then dump the Spaniards’ Dry Rations where they belong—in the pig trough.
While struggling with the Hard Biscuit, Zhou Xiucai knocked holding the Account Book and entered.
“Helmsman, the ship’s Goods have been tallied… Oh, eating breakfast? Eat slowly; I won’t disturb…”
“No problem; talk while I eat. Second Brother, have you eaten? Want some?”
“No need, no need.” Zhou Xiucai waved hurriedly.
Zhou Xiucai sat at the table and opened the Account Book: “The Cargo Hold contains: 10 crates of Pearls, 30 crates of Cloves, 30 crates of cinnamon, 50 crates of lacquerware, 80 crates of Silk, 100 crates of raw silk, 150 crates of Porcelain, plus a dozen crates of other miscellaneous Goods. That bare-assed Frank estimates their Cargo Value at 500,000 Pesos; he says he has connections in Macau and can sell them for about 200,000 taels of silver.”
Lin Qian took a big gulp of Hard Biscuit paste and said: “Did you ask about that bare-assed Jose’s ‘connections’? Reliable?”
Zhou Xiucai: “He said they are old family friends, very influential among the Franks, and that we can approach them for repairs upon docking too. Sounds fine to me.”
“Still, anchor in the outer seas first and probe this ‘connection’s’ background.” Lin Qian tore off a big chunk of salted meat, then swallowed it like medicine.
“That’s fine too; safest that way… If you can’t eat it, don’t force yourself; no one can finish today’s breakfast…”
“We’ll probably have to eat this until docking; better to adapt early.” Lin Qian said expressionlessly, then tore off another big chunk of salted meat.
Everyone on the ship sharing the same pot and divided portions is the rule Lin Qian set.
The harder this Meal is to swallow, the more Lin Qian insists on setting an example, showing he shares the Crew Members’ hardships.
Otherwise, if morale scatters, the team is hard to lead.
“Weapons, Ammunition, and Personal Belongings tallied?” Lin Qian had now finished the Salted Meat and focused on swallowing Hard Biscuit paste.
“Total 30 Cannons on board: 28 on the Cannon Deck, 1 on the bow-stern Deck, 1 on the Stern Cabin Deck. 1500 Cannonballs, 10 barrels of Gunpowder…”
“So few?” Lin Qian was surprised.
10 barrels of Gunpowder likely aren’t enough for 200 shots; compared to 1500 Cannonballs, it’s really too little.
“That ‘bare-assed one’ said that once the Galleon docks, the ship’s Gunpowder and armory magazines must be emptied. So not only little Gunpowder, but only 12 Matchlock Guns too, all captured in the Ship Robbery.”
The Spaniards went to great pains for the Galleon’s safety.
But ultimately, those myriad strict, cumbersome rules bred complacency that the Galleon wouldn’t be robbed, letting Lin Qian succeed—quite amusing.
Lin Qian finished the last gulp of Hard Biscuit paste, wiped his hands, and said: “All the above items, including the Galleon itself, need valuing for easy bonus division and silver distribution after docking… Right, has the loot in the Captain’s Cabin been counted?”
The Captain’s Cabin was decorated extremely lavishly, with countless large and small boxes and cabinets; since the Ship Robbery, Lin Qian had been too busy with other matters to inspect it.
“The Captain’s Cabin is just sundries; no need to enter in the accounts, right?”
“No; not only enter them, but value them fairly and mark clearly.” Lin Qian refused firmly.
Any capitalist knows company earnings must go in the public ledger.
On the surface: legitimate business to show fairness.
Underneath: the company’s money and the capitalist’s own are hardly different.
Since both surface and substance can be had, only a fool pockets the money directly.
