The Queen
Mesmerised, with the flirtatious play of dolphins in the bow wave, heading for Pilau Kapas.
The rolling of the Chinese junk, in the pendulant swell, sailing into the sun, warm on my face, with the wind tousling my hair.
Turning, looking down the length of the junk, between the three masts.
Standing, resolute, legs astride at the tiller, was a leathery tanned, sun bleached blonde,
a German, Beatrice or Bee.
The queen of the seas.
At the helm, her sarong flapping rhythmically against her legs, with a ginger cat, hanging over her shoulder.
Two paws neatly aligned, over her shoulder, erect, alert, eyes knowingly scanning the skies, with a fixed stare, captivated by the circling sea gulls.
With an irritated shake of her head, Bee’s hair wafted in the gentle breeze, swept around the cat’s head.
We met in the market over a bowl of rice porridge, when she was provisioning the junk.
Bee and her partner had spent three years in Malacca, on the west coast of Malaysia,
building a Chinese junk.
Going native to survive, living with the boat builders, using traditional techniques developed around 200 BC in China, for this 18m craft.
No nails, wooden pullies, bark caulking.
I soon learned what their version of going native really meant for them both, as they peddled drugs to tourists, to make a living.
Sailing the junk around to the east coast of Malaysia, they started a regular drug run from Thailand to Singapore, sitting out the monsoon in Thailand.
This worked well for several years, until her partner was arrested in Singapore for drug trafficking.
Bee is now surviving on a hand to mouth basis, until he gets out.
Hence ferrying of the local expats, like me, out to the coastal islands.
Normally we would hire a Malay fishing boat that would get to the island in about an hour.
Sailing directly into the wind though, the junk took four hours.
I had time to listen!
Bee’s junk was an extension of herself, a rugged roughly hewn, primitive, but with ancient maritime intelligence.
Extremely capable, dependable.
She knew what she was doing, launching a lightning smile, she tie the tiller
and sweep us along the deck, in animated delight, scanning the seas, Bee, unfolding the character of her second self.
This junk or pinyin literally is a Chinese clipper.
In Malay, an Adjong a ship or large vessel, from which the English derived the word junk.
This revolutionary technology was brought to Malacca, by Chinese traders during the Melaka Sultanate around 450 AD and adapted by the Malays and the Bugis pirates.
The Bugis pirates were based in the Singapore area, well before it was Singapore.
It took the Europeans centuries to catch up to this technological wonder, no European standing rigging here.
Three sails in a line, lazy jacks or ropes in the plane of the sail, linking and strengthening the sail panels.
The sails, designed to direct the wind into one another, enabling the junk to sail into the wind.
The bamboo sail stays panelling the sail, so any tear in the sail was limited to a single panel.
Smart!
But the big advance was the watertight compartments, thirteen in this case, each sealed from the other.
One being damaged, the junk would still be safe to sail.
I was fascinated!
The forward compartments have limber holes, very small holes to enable the ballast to flow between compartments, stabilising the junk in rough seas.
The lee boards, centre board and the stern mounted rudder, were all innovations at that time, with fenestrated rudders only being introduced to Europe in the 13th century.
Fenestrated, namely holes in the rudder, reduced the force needed to direct the rudder.
Explained, in some small way, Bee’s confidence at the helm.
I was enthralled, watching this prematurely aged, weathered soul’s, child-like wonder, in sharing her passion.
The flapping red flags, capping each mast, to please the sky dragon in the Mazu religion,
supposedly where Macau got its name.
On cue, the red flags flapped, as the wind changed direction.
We lumbered towards Kapas, in a time warp.
Bee’s world.
The queen of her domain!