Wind Rises in North America 1625

Chapter 410 Sakhalin Island (Part 1)

In the section of the Heilongjiang River between Nurgan City and its estuary, the water flow slows down significantly, and the river channel becomes increasingly tortuous.

The average water depth of this section of the river is 4-6 meters, and the navigable channel width is 200-300 meters. However, there are several natural sandbars and islands in the river, especially near Nurgan (now Terlin Town), where the situation is most complex.

During this period, without large dredgers to clear silt, large vessels could not pass from the estuary to upstream Buriburg; only small galleys with a carrying capacity of around 150-200 tons were allowed to navigate.

Of course, if a flat-bottomed sailboat is used, it can accommodate vessels of 200-300 tons.

This is because siltation is common in the downstream river channels. For example, the Blackwater Delta (now the Kuer River Delta) silts up 10-15 centimeters every year, and there are also large sandbars about 30 kilometers downstream of Miaojie, which pose a huge obstacle to the passage of ships.

During the Yongle and Xuande reigns of the Ming Dynasty, the Nurgan Regional Military Commission organized official dredging operations on several occasions, conscripting local tribes along both banks of the river to excavate accumulated river sand and clear the waterway.

However, with the Ming Dynasty's authority gone and trade disrupted, no one continued to dredge the river.

Five years ago, when Xinhua's two exploration vessels entered the Black Water, one of them ran aground on a sandbar near the estuary because it was unfamiliar with the hydrology. It took dozens of local Fiyaka people and a lot of effort to finally pull it out.

Subsequently, the Xinhua explorer's vessel became extremely cautious as it traveled upstream along the river, moving forward at a snail's pace and meticulously measuring and marking the waterway.

From the mouth of the Blackwater River to Buriburg, a distance of nearly 1,000 kilometers (about 980 kilometers), the exploration vessel took more than 40 days (requiring constant water depth measurements) to forge a relatively safe waterway.

The best time to navigate the entire river is from mid-June to early September, when the river is at its fullest, large ships can pass through, and the waterway is also relatively wide.

However, there are many sandbars near the mouth of the Blackwater River, and the water depth is less than three meters all year round, so ships need to be extremely cautious when navigating.

At noon on August 10, 1639, on the deck of the "Yuanwang-3", Captain Zhang Yaoshen squinted his eyes, looked at the gradually opening water ahead, and breathed a long sigh of relief.

"Finally, we've escaped that brush with death." He wiped the sweat from his brow and turned to the helmsman, shouting, "Maintain course, and don't exceed three knots!"

This was their third time crossing the sandbars at the mouth of the Blackwater River. Although they had gained some experience, the ever-changing sandbars every year still made them nervous.

"Captain, the 'Yuanwang-4' has sent a signal that their hull appears to have scraped against something!" a sailor on the lookout suddenly shouted.

Zhang Yaoshen's heart tightened, and he immediately raised his binoculars to look at the sister ships following behind.

The "Yuanwang-4" was seen to be sailing somewhat crookedly, and the sailors on deck were busy inspecting the hull.

"Slow down! Signal and ask what's going on!" he ordered.

A moment later, the signal flags relayed a reply: minor collision, no serious damage, sailing can continue.

Zhang Yaoshen was slightly relieved, but his brows remained furrowed.

Because after the fleet entered the Sakhalin Strait (also known as the Tartary Strait), it encountered dense fog.

A milky white fog enveloped the ship, reducing visibility to less than two hundred meters.

Zhang Yaoshen had no choice but to order a further reduction in speed and sent sailors to the bow to keep a close watch and ring the bell as a warning.

During this season (summer), the cold air from the north meets the warm air from the south at Tsushima. The warm and humid air easily condenses into fog when it encounters cold air, often resulting in dense fog and extremely poor visibility.

By evening, after the fleet passed through the narrowest part of the Sakhalin Strait, the fog eased slightly, and the sea gradually widened and became deeper, allowing the ships to speed up their journey a little.

On the afternoon of August 11, the thick fog that had accompanied them all the way finally dissipated, and the simple wooden dock of Funinburg (now Alexandrovsk) came into view.

Looking at the low wooden houses and fences on the shore, Zhang Yaoshen couldn't help but sigh.

This is a world apart from the bustling ports of Beiying Island.

It was called a dock, but it was really just a few thick logs driven into the mudflats on the shore, covered with rough planks.

A dozen or so figures were busy at the dock. The middle-aged man in the lead was burly and had a thick beard on his face—Zheng Huaiyuan, the militia captain of Funing Fort, a Liao soldier who had fought on the battlefield.

"Captain Zhang, how was the journey?" Zheng Huaiyuan's voice was loud and clear. He strode forward, pushed aside a local laborer, and took the rope thrown from the ship, skillfully tying it to a wooden post on the dock. "Any good stuff you could bring back for Funing Fort along the way?" Zhang Yaoshen jumped off the ramp and said with a smile, "The journey was fairly smooth, at least we didn't encounter any storms. However, the fog in the strait is much thicker than last year, and we had to slow down fifty miles away."

"Hehe, as for what good stuff I'm bringing you, don't get your hopes up. The cargo on the ship is all furs and winter ginseng brought from the Blackwater Colonization Zone. Oh, right, there are also six little princes from tribes who are going to Beiying Island to broaden their horizons."

"To broaden their horizons?" Upon hearing this, Zheng Huaiyuan couldn't help but reveal a mocking smile. "I guess they're hostages kidnapped by the Blackwater Colonization Division?"

"Don't be so tactless. They understand a little Chinese." Zhang Yaoshen turned and glanced at the ship.

The young tribal "princes" were terribly seasick and had already collapsed into a heap of mud. They were being helped ashore by several sailors.

Funingbao was the eleventh stronghold Xinhua established on Sakhalin Island two years ago. It is located in a natural bay on the west coast of the island.

The buildings inside the fort are all longhouses built with large logs, and the roofs are covered with thick seaweed and mud to protect against the cold.

A flagpole stands in the central square, with the red flag with gold stars fluttering on it, its color already somewhat faded by the sea breeze.

Zheng Huaiyuan led Zhang Yaoshen and other crew members through the muddy road, where residents along the way kept bowing and greeting them.

Most of these pioneers had rough faces and simple clothes. Some of the indigenous women wrapped their bodies in dresses made of animal skins and coarse cloth they had traded for, while a few children ran and played barefoot in the mud.

"How's the harvest this year?" Zhang Yaoshen's gaze swept over the newly cultivated fields outside the fort, where the barley was sparse and clearly malnourished.

"It's better than last year." Zheng Huaiyuan sighed. "Following the advice of the agricultural officials sent from Beiying Island, we buried a lot of fish entrails in the fields as fertilizer, and the potatoes and barley have finally shown some improvement. But this yield... isn't even enough to feed the fort for half a year."

He pointed to a newly reclaimed piece of land in the distance and said with a smile, "Those are cold-resistant potatoes cultivated from Beiying Island. If we can successfully grow them, perhaps we will need less supplies next year."

The group entered the command post. The room was simply furnished, with a map of Sakhalin Island spread out on a rough wooden table.

The map marks the twelve strongholds that Xinhua has established. Except for Funingbao, most of them are located south of 49 degrees north latitude and are scattered along the coast.

As for the northern part of the island, it is a blank slate, with no development yet and not even a fur trading post has been set up.

“Our garrison commander Xu isn’t in the fort. He took a few guards to the western valley.” Zheng Huaiyuan poured Zhang Yaoshen a cup of hot tea and said warmly, “It seems a coal mine has been discovered there. If it’s confirmed, we can ask the higher-ups for more people. Who knows, things might get lively here.”

“Beiying Island doesn’t lack coal, so the higher-ups might not send you more immigrants for that reason,” Zhang Yaoshen said dismissively. “Besides, our entire Beiying colony area is never short of wood for fires. Even if you, Funing Fort, find a coal mine, you probably won’t have a market for it anytime soon.”

“Really?” Zheng Huaiyuan was stunned when he heard this. “I remember when I was a dock patrolman in Jianchang (now Otaru City, Hokkaido) two years ago, I heard the sailors from Xinzhou say that as long as a coal mine was discovered, it would definitely receive attention from the higher-ups, and then they would spare no effort to mine and develop it, and build a lot of factories.”

"That's Xinzhou's own territory. They're going to do some kind of industrial construction, like steelmaking, iron smelting, coking coal production, and coal tar extraction. Naturally, they'll vigorously develop any coal mines they discover. But we don't have anything here. Why would we need so much coal?"

"Even if we can't use it for industrial development, we can still make some money by mining the coal and using it for heating and cooking, right?"

"Captain Zheng, when you're starting a fire for cooking and keeping warm in winter, would you rather use free wood from the wild, or take a few coins out of your pocket to buy some coal?"

"..." Zheng Huaiyuan was stunned for a long time, a bitter smile appearing on his lips. "Damn it, of course I'm not willing to spend money to buy coal for fuel. Sigh, so even if we in Funing Fort discover a coal mine, it's useless!"

The following afternoon, Funingbao loaded the pelts they had collected over the past few months onto the ship, numbering more than four hundred, including a large number of fine and soft sable pelts.

Currently, the entire Sakhalin Island can provide approximately 6,000 to 8,000 pelts of various colors to the northern colonization area each year, with a total value exceeding 60,000 taels of silver.

Including the fishing harvest, the island's total output could reach 80,000 to 100,000 taels of silver.
In terms of economic value, the development of the islands in the Beiying Colonization Area can be considered profitable, providing strong support for the region's overall financial well-being.

After the cargo was loaded, the "Yuanwang-3" and "Yuanwang-4" weighed anchor and set sail from the dock, heading south at high speed.

Zhang Yaoshen stood at the stern of the ship, watching Funing Fort gradually disappear into the distance.

On the shore, Zheng Huaiyuan and several militiamen were still waving goodbye, their figures appearing so small in the vast天地 (heaven and earth).

"See you next year!" Zheng Huaiyuan's shout drifted on the wind.

Zhang Yaoshen raised his arm in response, but in his heart he wondered: How many dreams and lives must this harsh, desolate land devour before it becomes the so-called "New China Paradise"?
(End of this chapter)