Yalong’s international beach and nuclear submarines
Yalong Bay is fifteen kilometres east of Sanya city centre as the crow flies but the travelling distance is about twenty-five kilometres. Since it is not very far off, we have an unhasty early lunch before commencing our journey. We are lucky this time; a taxi halts at our signal. Leaving downtown, it has a smooth flow of traffic to Yalong Bay Central Plaza, making the ride enjoyable. Along the way, the driver offers a suggestion.
Sanya map, Yalong Bay location
三亚地图，亚龙湾位置
“The Sea Shell Museum is not as interesting as the Butterfly Valley nearby. I can bring you to the latter.”
Jo and I hold a brief discussion. The Butterfly Park has a huge flight cage where visitors can interact with the fluttering variegated butterflies as well as more than two thousand rigor mortis specimens in its exhibition hall. But it is slightly out of our way, an additional four kilometres from Central Plaza and an hour or two of sight-seeing time. Since a slow stroll along the seven-kilometre beach with its deep sea captivates us more, we decide in favour of the nearer museum, sadly sacrificing a visit to the other.
“Yes, we are interested in seeing the beautiful butterflies of Hainan. But we do not have much time.” We thus politely decline.
Jo pays the admission fee of 33 RMB while I stand at the next window, the window for concession fees for, among others, senior citizens. The lady accepts the credential of my Australian driving licence. Handing over 18 RMB, I thank her.
Despite its name, the elevated Central Square is not “square” but circular, having a diameter of at least a hundred metres. On a tourist pamphlet, it is named as a “Plaza” but this “plaza” has no shopping centre, except for a café and a few stalls selling drinks, fruits, and trinkets.
Yalong Bay Central Square, Sanya
亚龙湾中央广场，三亚
In the centre of the Plaza is an impressive structure, a huge square totem pole twenty-seven metre in height. It sits on a mound about two metres high. On the incline of this mound are stone blocks with chiselled reliefs. The core of the architectural pole is an aluminium pipe, which enabled its creator to align the decorative granite blocks that enclose it. The identity of some sunk-reliefs on the granite blocks is easily discernible. I can pick out only three: the fish, phoenix, and dragon. But the others perplex me. What is the creature below the fish? Is it a local insect?
I walk to the plaque, and record this description: “The carvings on the Totem Pole include the Sun God, the Gods of Nature, the Dragon, the Phoenix, the Unicorn and the fish, 16 totem designs in total.”
Spaciously laid out in concentric circles around the pole are twelve single sculptures and twelve sets of carved granite blocks. The blocks are flat and uniform in height, about half a metre. The blocks of each set are cemented together to form a glyph. The single polished sculptures, some looking like phallic symbols, range from half a metre to a metre in height. They are placed beside the granite reliefs. A small plaque at the foot of each sculpture offers a hint of its significance.
“Arrival of Autumn 立秋,” says one. Engraved on its sculpture is a dragon fly.
These twenty-four pieces of artwork depict the twenty-four climatic periods in the Chinese solar calendar, which was calibrated to the lunar phases as early as four thousand years ago and used to determine crop cultivation. We do not have time to examine all the sculptures. The signboard provides this list of periods:
“Arrival of Spring, Rainfall, Insect Awakening, Spring Equinox, Ching Ming, Cereal Rain, Arrival of Summer, Small Harvest, Sowing, Summer Solstice, Mild Heat, Heat of Summer, Arrival of Autumn, End of Heat, White Dew, Autumn Equinox, Cold Dew, Frost Fall, Arrival of Winter, Mild Snowfall, Snowstorm, Winter Solstice, Mild Cold, Extreme Cold”.
Some totemic deity, animal, or natural element are associated with these sculptures or periods:
“Gray Dragon, White Tiger, Pink Bird, Black Armour, Opening Up the Heaven and Creating the Earth by Pan Gu, Mending the Sky by Nu Wo, Ascending of Chang Er to the Moon, Wielding the Bludgeon and Shield by Xing Tian, Harnessing the Flood by Da Yu, Cowboy and the Weaving Girl, Shooting the Suns by Hau Yee, Kua Fu Running for the Sun, Celestial Phenomena (Sun and Moon, Mountains and Rivers, Celestial Stars), Animal, Human Characters, Plant, Ancient Gods of Gate (Shen Tu), Ancient Gods of Gate (Yu Lei), God of the Mountain (God of Mount Kunlun), God of Wind, God of Thunder, God of Agriculture (Shen Long, Emperor Yan), God of Fishery and Hunting (Fu Xi), God of Words (Cang He)”
Totem and symbolism of surrounding sculptures
图腾和周围雕塑的象征主义
Our visit to the square is instructive. I am now aware of the several agricultural periods and festivals associated with the Chinese calendar. Earlier, I knew of only three: spring, Qing-ming, and mid-autumn. The Chinese New Year celebration around February is a herald to spring, the joyful beginning of a warm year after a cold winter. The young and unmarried receive “hong bao” (red packets containing money to splurge). Then early April brings a solemn festival, the Qing-ming (literally, Clear Bright). When grasses have sprout luxuriantly, families visit and tidy the surroundings of their departed members’ graves. This “Grave-sweeping Day” is the Chinese equivalent of the Christian “All Souls’ Day”. Finally, around the end of September, on the fifteenth day of the eighth lunar month, when the moon is at its brightest, signalling the end of summer harvest, the mid-autumn festival is held and mooncakes are fondly baked and consumed in memory of goddess Chang’e, who remains marooned on the moon with her pet rabbit.
Beneath Central Square is the Shell Museum. We walk down a flight of stairs to a hall, which is fairly crowded. We are amazed. The built-in cabinets in the walls are filled with countless quirky maritime homes. Among the species from foreign shores and waters are four exceedingly remarkable pieces that captivate me. Their colours are magnificent and their shapes, weird.
As its name aptly implies, the white “Angel Wing” (Cyrtopleura Costata Linnaeus) is strikingly like a pair of angel’s wings commonly illustrated in paintings. In contrast is a pair of brilliant-yellow shells called “Austral Scallop” (Chlamys Australis Sowerby). Both of these cap-shaped pairs have flat shells. South African Turban (Turbo Sarmaticus Turbinidae), however, has a snail-like shell with colours running riot on its surface. Reminiscent of a Mongolian tent is Taylor’s Star Shell (Bolma Tayloriana), whose top-shaped white shell has vertical brown stripes of various tones.
Nature dazzles us with its diversity and wonders. The apex or tail of the elongate-conic Martin’s Tibia conch (Tibia Martini Marrat) is pointed. At its aperture or mouth is a long sharp spike. This mollusc poses as a dangerous creature; when it slowly advances, its “spear” will pierce any fish or prawn that obstructs its path. Pitiful is the person who accidentally steps on its spike. My sympathy also goes to the feet that land on the spikes of the small irregular-shaped Murex Cornutus (Bolinus Brandaris Linnaeus), about seven centimetres in length.
Fascinating shells
有趣的贝壳
While many shellfish are edible, the small Ivory Cone (Conus Eburneus Hwass) is poisonous. Its surface has a fascinating dark-brown pattern like the skin of a snake or python.
Some shells are large or long. The Pink Conch (Stombus Gigas Linnaeus) and Australian Trumpet (Syrinx Aruanus Linnaeus) are about thirty centimetres in length, or a foot in imperial measurement. The former has shades of white, brown, and pink while the latter is light-brown. The Giant Worm Shell (Siliquaria Ponderosa) is a long tube measuring about one metre. White in colour, it may be mistaken for an artificial white concrete tube, placed there to amuse spectators.
In one showcase, the Nautilus pompilius is listed as one of the “four most famous shells of Hainan”. With brown strips across its smooth back, this shell, reminding me of the stripes of a zebra, is the home of a living fossil found in the cool seas of Hainan Province.
What are the names of the other three famous shells in the same cabinet? I think the museum curator wants to put us through a test. I peek again into some of the showcases. In the next is a fossilized Nautilus, which revealed identical whorls and spirals as its modern descendants. It is dated at more than three hundred thousand years old. Then - eureka! - I establish the name of the second “famous shell”: Bull’s Mouth Helmet (Cypraecassis Rufa Linnaeus). Easily, I find the rest: Horned Helmet (Cassis Cornuta Linnaeus) and Trumpet Triton (Charonia Titonis Linnaeus). I grin with satisfaction. The assortment of shells offered at the museum shop is tempting. But we have a long way to travel to be weighed down.
Shell Museum
贝壳博物馆
Exiting the Shell Museum, we are surprised that no barricade has been erected to prevent beach visitors from gate-crashing. The level of trust and honesty among the locals and visitors is reassuring. From the higher step on the museum foreground, we quickly survey the beach below us. This section is crowded, but not excessively crowded to instil a sense of demophobia or agoraphobia in me. Within the periphery of my front vision, I mentally estimate the presence of one hundred beachcombers or more. About forty persons are swimming within or near the roped-off swimming area. The majority are merely spectators.
Although they have booked for a “beach holiday”, many tourists relish neither to swim nor to sunbathe; instead, they prefer to hide under the protective shade of a beach umbrella and relax. Occasionally, they may be hypnotised by the rhythmic waves to wade in the shallow tide. But they will avoid wetting their shorts or skirts. Beach culture is absent among local Hainanese too. They are blasé towards the constantly lapping sea; daily sight has inured them to its eternal glory. Traditionally, they strive to keep their skin fair and untanned, being also shy to expose their unmuscular bodies. But swimming and surfing are exercises that are fast increasing in popularity among the young.
First impression of Yalong Bay
亚龙湾的第一印象
Some islets dot the bay. Close to one another on our left, three are very large and noticeable while one on our right is smaller and less so. Later, we learn the names of three islets from the map on the signboard. The largest, which is nearest to us, is Yezhu Islet (野猪; Wild Pig Islet). From my estimate, its elevation is between one and two hundred metres. The two smallest ones on our right are: Dongpai Islet and Xipai Islet (东排 and 西排; East and West Reefs respectively). Beyond the limit of the signboard map are the two islets located behind Wild Pig Islet. I later learn from satellite maps the names of these two islets: Dongzhou and Xizhou (东洲 and 西洲). Strangely, Wild Pig Islet, the largest of the five islets, is not even shown on the satellite maps.
We step onto the beach. I bend down and grasp a handful of white sand to feel its texture. It is very fine and as good as the sand of Bondi Beach. I walk to the edge of the receding tide and feel the water. It is cool, even though the sun is bright and shining. I look further; the shallow water is clean and transparent. Still further on, the sea is deep blue.
Slightly concave, Yalong (Crescent Dragon) Beach has more than fifteen kilometres of malleable sands that caress the feet. In the middle are the Central Square and Shell Museum. Unfortunately for visitors, a stretch of only about seven kilometres is accessible, the extreme eastern side being occupied by the Chinese navy. Even then, the public zone is twice the length of Papohaku Beach in Hawaii’s Molokai Island. Sanya is endowed with an unspoilt coastline of about two hundred kilometres, and Yalong Bay is only a small part of it. Yalong and Dadonghai are two of the six most famous bays in Sanya, which has nineteen harbours.
On the extreme eastern side of Yalong’s public beach is Holiday Inn Resort, about two kilometres from the Shell Museum and Central Plaza. To the west of Central Plaza are nine other international hotels like Crown Plaza Sanya, Gloria Resort, Resort Golden Palm, Yalong Bay Universal Resort, and Yalong Bay Mangrove Tree Resort. Sheraton Sanya Resort is on the extreme left. We walk towards the east. The beach section closer to Central Plaza has fewer beach goers because the nearest hotel is about four hundred metres away. Deck chairs are placed at regular intervals. We sit on one and pose for photographs. A gentleman appears, enquiring if we wish to hire one. When we politely decline, he is not offended.
So mesmerising are the lisping waves and carefree pleasure boats flashing by that I now understand why Hainan is widely acclaimed as the “Hawaii of the East”. If we have time, we would like to lie down on the sixty-metre foreshore and enjoy the sight of the calm water and solitary clouds drifting across the lightly tinted sky. The residents are truly lucky; they have a natural beauty to be proud of. Hawaii and Hainan share some common features. Both are islands situated on the same latitude; both have sandy beaches; both have tropical weather; both have indigenous people; both are attractive tourist destinations. One difference is, however, immediately evident. Hawaii's beaches are often crowded while Hainan's are fairly empty. This will soon change when outsiders learn more about the charm and beauty of this unobtrusive paradise.
The beautiful beach of Yalong Bay
亚龙湾美丽的海滩
As we move closer to the jetty, the beach becomes crowded. More than a thousand people may be here. Hotel guests are sunbathing on deck chairs in the hotel zone behind a single rope barricade. Other visitors, dropped off earlier by coaches at the nearby shopping centre and car park, are resting on their beach towels, swimming or wading in the waters, playing beach volleyball, shopping at the roadside trinket stalls, or just strolling along the water edge. At the cost of 100 RMB each, three adventurous visitors have hired a four-seater speedboat for a short cruise. The operator will only proceed when three participants have signed up.
Marine tours and cruises radiate from the jetty, which is closed to non-participants. We are hoping to walk to its end to capture the beautiful shore on our cameras as well as peer down into the deep sea. But it is not to be. According to a brochure, the water at Yalong is visible to a depth of ten metres, which is superb for scuba diving. Some amateurs in their rented diving suit and gears are waddling towards their arriving cruise boat. A few minutes later, it discharges some divers onto the jetty. The latter can now boast to their friends about their new maritime adventure. We investigate the amenities and changing rooms; they are clean.
The maritime activities on offer: swimming, scuba diving, fishing, water skiing, etc
提供的海上活动：游泳，水肺潜水，钓鱼，滑水等
Pristine coral reefs in the tropical waters of Sanya’s bays are sanctuaries to a rich variety of fish, ranging from the small to the large. Six kilometres southwest from downtown Sanya, at West Island (Ximaozhou), is a huge underwater rock formation, the breeding ground for bream, elephant fish, green wrasse, Golden-thread fish, parrot fish, and other species. Cone-shaped and about two kilometres in length and a kilometre in width at its widest, West Island is the largest of Sanya’s ten islets. With resort facilities, it is a favourite destination for many beach-lovers. The fish catch is apparently good.
Three kilometres southeast of West Island is the smaller East Island (Dongmaozhou), which also rewards fishing enthusiasts. The average depth of the seas around these two islets is about twelve metres. Just east of Sanya Bay is Yulin Bay, where the coral reefs near Dadonghai Beach and Xiaodonghai Beach are state-protected.
About fifteen kilometres northeast from Yalong is Haitang Bay. At its southern end is Wuzhizhou Island, a small triangular islet of about 1.48 square kilometres. The thriving coral reefs embracing the hill and its coastal strip of white sand are popular with scuba divers and sports fishermen.
Here in Yalong Bay, a Hawksbill turtle and a lionfish may be hiding in reef crevices under the fan-shaped Cockleshell Horny Coral (海扇角珊瑚; Haishan Jiaoshanhu) while a Princess Crown fish sits among her protective anemone host.
Fastened to a white pier about a kilometre and a half away is a huge light-grey warship, which fascinates me. Is it a frigate or a destroyer? I silent ask myself. Its bow points to the shore. Its numbers “170”, painted boldly on the port side near the bow, later identifies it to me as Chinese destroyer Lanzhou, which is part of the Chinese South Fleet. A Chinese type 052 C destroyer class (or Luyang II class under NATO codename), this destroyer was launched in April 2003, and commissioned in July 2004. At one hundred and fifty-four metres in length, it can travel at the speed of thirty knots. Its most potent weapons are its forty-eight long-range surface-to-air missiles and eight anti-ship/land attack cruise missiles. It has the capacity to carry one helicopter. The Chinese Navy has twenty-five destroyers. Anchored in the bay is also the maritime police ship with the identification number and name: “46041” and “China Coast Guard”.
Yalong Naval Base
亚龙海军基地
Behind the visible pier is another, the existence of which I later ascertain from a satellite image. Each of these two piers is a kilometre long. Theoretically, at least sixteen destroyers can be tied simultaneously to the four sides for maintenance. This should not be surprising; Yalong Bay is the surface fleet base for the 9th Destroyer Flotilla of the South Sea Fleet. These piers are capable of berthing even aircraft carriers. In November 2013, China’s experimental aircraft carrier “Liaoning” and four escorting missile destroyers and frigates docked here during a South China Sea naval exercise.
Prior to the late nineteen-nineties, Yulin Bay was the naval base for the PLA Southern Military Region Navy’s South Sea Fleet patrol vessels and conventional submarine flotilla. The bay is to the immediate west of Yalong Bay, and the naval base on its eastern shore also housed KMT naval maintenance facilities in 1946. Nine years later, it was given its current name, Yulin Naval Base.
Yalong Bay recently received international attention when foreign military analysts revealed the existence of a nuclear submarine base (officially known as 2nd Submarine Base) in the man-made cavern beneath Cape Yalong. This cavern is capable of hiding up to twenty submarines. Standing near the cruise jetty, I slowly shift my eyes from Destroyer 170 to the right, to the flat peninsula at the foot of the hill ridge. Eight huge metallic Chinese characters, with their “backs” facing me, pose a warning, which I later decipher as: 管控水域 严禁靠近. “Guankong shuiyu Yanjin kaojin” means “Controlled waters; strictly forbidden nearby”. Naturally, no visitors are allowed in the proximity. No one should be foolish to attempt a sneak photo shoot of this sector; espionage will logically be the charge.
Obscured from prying eyes, including mine, are three piers for berthing Jin-class SSBNs (nuclear-powered missile submarines), a sixteen-metre wide submarine cave entrance to the underground facilities, and a demagnetization facility at Dongzhou Islet (which is connected to Cape Yalong by a 3.2-kilometre breakwater). The demagnetization facility removes residual magnetic fields from the metal of seagoing submarines to prevent their detection by enemy aircrafts and maritime vessels and mines. Since it is absent in Jianggezhuang Submarine Base, this facility is a new cutting-edge capability of the Chinese navy. Interestingly, two other moles almost connect Dongzhou with Xizhou, and Xizhou with Wild Pig, the narrow gaps in the middle allowing for monitored naval passage.
Yalong Submarine Base
亚龙潜艇基地
Southeast of Yalong Naval Base lies Xisha (Paracel) and Nansha (Spratly) Islets, about three hundred kilometres and a thousand kilometres off respectively in the South China Sea. In March 2009, 282-foot American surveillance ship USNS Impeccable was spotted about one hundred and twenty kilometres southeast of Yalong Bay, towing a sonar apparatus – apparently hunting for Jin-class submarines within China’s exclusive economic zone. Over a few days, it was shadowed and surrounded by three Chinese patrol boats and two trawlers. Both governments issued complaints against each other.
Aung San Suu Kyi tells an interesting story: her father’s military training in Sanya. Born in 1915, the Burmese patriot entered Rangoon University in 1932, where he became a student activist. Under his leadership, the student movement deposed Ba Maw’s government in 1938. Their next aim was the removal of the British colonialists, their masters since 1885. With a comrade, Aung San sailed to Xiamen in August 1940 to consult the Chinese communists, who had by now retreated to Chongqing. After roving aimlessly, they encountered a Japanese agent and were flown in November to Japan where they met the Japan-Burma Society secretary, a Japanese colonel. An offer was made.
Aung San (1915-1947), Premier of British Burma (1946-1947)
昂山 (1915-1947), 英国缅甸总理 (1946-1947)
Thirty secretly-selected left-wing students were led by Aung San out of Burma. Of these, one remained in Thailand for secret services, one died on the way to Japan, and one chose to do administration. Their Japanese handler sent the rest to Sanya Naval Training Camp in 1941. At the specially constructed training facility, the officer training course from April to October was so gruelling that some of the Burmese were disposed to rebel. The lessons was conducted in pidgin English since most, if not all, of the trainees were ignorant of Japanese.
On completion, they returned via Thailand where they formed the Burmese Independence Army. By the end of 1941, they were home and, with the Japanese Army’s aid, expelled the British. But Aung San distrusted the Japanese. He was right; they were not genuinely interested in helping Burma gain independence. After their conquest of Southeast Asian countries like Malaya and Singapore, they invaded his country and had, by 1942, taken over its government. They exploited the food supply and conscripted unwilling locals and prisoners-of-wars to construct the Burma-Thailand railway. Tragically, many died from accidents and malnutrition. Burmese students declared independence on 1 August 1943. Ironically, with British assistance, they succeeded in overthrowing the Japanese in 1945.
Our day at Yalong Bay is enjoyable. At five in the late afternoon, we reluctantly leave. In spite of the crowd at Yalong Bay Universal Resort open-air car park and sheltered stalls, we patiently wait by the roadside for a taxi. We are fortunate. Stopping close to us, one drops off some passengers. We frantically wave our hands and briskly walk towards it, ensuring no other tourists from some corner best us.
The road to downtown Sanya is not heavy with traffic. Over the next thirty minutes, the ride is smooth, impeded only by the traffic lights. I speak to the driver. We say nothing memorable; just some small talk that I cannot even recall.
Phoenix Island, the new port and cruise hub
We alight at Sanya Bay Road, near the causeway linking the beach to Phoenix Island. The fare is 56 RMB. It is reasonable. Since the island and causeway was the starting point for the 2008 Olympic Torch Relay, we intend to investigate the scenery on this man-made island. But the sight of a sentry post and some guards at the start of the causeway immediately dampens our enthusiasm.
Phoenix Island, view from Luhuitou (Deer-turning-head)
凤凰岛，鉴于从鹿回头
Before us is a group of three Taiwanese ladies and two gentlemen, all in their late forties or early fifties. They approach the nearest guard. We draw alongside them. They speak and we anxiously eavesdrop.
In his twenties, the guard explains that permission to visit the island is needed from the real estate agent of the condominium development. The Taiwanese ladies plead for special consideration. I join in, adding that I have come a long way from Australia to inspect the apartments for sale. That is true, except that I have no intention of buying. I just want to snap some photographs of the rooms and the seascape from the height. In an audacious attempt to validate the veracity of my long-journey claim, I extract my Australian passport from my backpack.
“See. See. He comes all the way from Australia to look at the units.” One Taiwanese lady eagerly utters in Mandarin.
I am very pleased to receive her moral support. Alas, the tiny blue booklet does not impress him, although he gives us the telephone number of the property agent, adding that she will be chaperoning some prospective clients to a display flat the following morning. My meek entreaty for permission to tread to the middle of the bridge falls on deaf ear, painfully dashing my indulgent dream of an intimate view of the future economic bellwether islet.
As we all leave the place sulking, the Taiwanese lady is still muttering, “Why can’t he just let us in?”
The harassed guard is relieved. He has heard it all, the same pleas, or variations, over the years.
Phoenix Island is a symbol of the central and local governments’ great expectation for Sanya City. Over three billion RMB (or about US$0.5 billion) was committed to the project of constructing an artificial island featuring a port, convention centre, and residential blocks some four hundred metres off the downtown beach. Began in 2007, the project was scheduled for completion by 2014. Midway into the project, the island and a port had been built. Seen on a high-resolution satellite photograph, the area of roughly three hundred and ninety-four thousand square metres takes the shape of a mouse’s body. Its “tail” is the causeway linking the island to Sanya Bay Road and Guang Ming Street.
At one thousand two hundred and fifty metres in length and three hundred and fifty metres in breadth, the island points to the direction of East Island and West Island between eight and ten kilometres off. This is the new pride of the southern Hainan district, an everlasting testimony also to the emerging firm that had designed and implemented the visionary recreation of the once unknown bay. MAD Architect is founded by Ma Yansong, a young architect from Beijing. The authorities have great confidence in their selection, which I whole-heartedly endorse.
Before us is the long, white causeway. It is almost flat, except for the slight arch in the middle to ease the passage of small boats, which might otherwise have to sail around the islet to reach the other side of the beach. Walking to the left, I count about thirty-six small fishing boats anchored close to one another. All, but one, are empty. Four or five floating platforms are visible under an arch. Some enterprising entrepreneurs have kept their fish, crabs, or prawns alive in these net cages, ready to rush them to seafood restaurants within minutes upon receiving an order through their cell phones. I move to the right. Eight small fishing boats are also lying idle off the shore.
Phoenix Island, causeway
凤凰岛，堤道
Jo is fervently snapping photographs. Straining my eyes ahead, I stare at the four towers of apartments lined in a straight row, the first partially hiding the rest on the extremely prime land. To their left is another similarly-shaped structure. The presence of a giant crane alongside each tower indicates their current state of development. From my position, they seem like giant cylindrical bullets resting on a flat plain. But they are really elongated and also well-spaced. (During my 2013 trip, I return to see the night scene of this islet and its residential blocks. Their light-emitting diode (LED) lighting system has been switched on, and they appear as upright, giant bivalves with shells slightly ajar.)
Even at exorbitant prices ranging from 50,000 RMB to 100,000 RMB per square metre during the off-the-plan sales in early 2010, the high-rise units were well received, according to media reports. These pocket-hitting prices were identical to those for similar properties in Beijing and Shanghai. The sales brochure evokes envy in me: the balconies of some flats are fitted with built-in spas. I can imagine myself being gently aqua-massaged in one of those tubs filled to the brim with invigorating warm spring water as well as simultaneously enjoying an aerial view of the ships slow sliding across the still sea below. I can also imagine myself lying on my sun-chair, dozing off to the soporific echoes of surging waves stirred up occasionally by passing breeze. With such symphony emanating freely from heaven, what more does one lack?
Although the new Sanya International Port is hidden from me, my earlier vision from the scenic lookout of Luhuitou Park confirms its readiness for operation in 2006. A pier and a custom-and-immigration centre can be easily spotted. The pier is about one hundred and twenty metres long while the centre is a white four-storey rectangular building about seventy metres long. Near it are some lower and smaller buildings. This side of Phoenix Island faces the Sanya Harbour and Luhuitou Park. The blue sea is deep, and the port capable of berthing 100,000-ton international passenger ships. Two more ports are scheduled for operation by 2014 to handle 60,000-ton ships and 250,000-ton ships, which should soon transform Phoenix Island into one of the top ten ports in the world.
Equidistant between two international ports, Singapore and Hong Kong, Hainan is a handy stopover for international liners and cruise tourism. To spur tourism, Sanya city unveiled its Sanya Tourism Development Master Plan for 2008-2020. An international tourist duty-free port would be constructed, which would house an international cruise terminal and a centre for M.I.C.E. (Meetings, Incentives, Conventions, and Exhibition). Four marine leisure bases were projected: the Winter Training Base of Olympic Water Sports, Specific Sports Base, Diving Experience Base, and Sea Fishing Base. All these should make Hainan an international tourist island.
As part of the Sanya Phoenix Island International Cruise Terminal scheme, a cruise terminal with a 250,000-ton level berth was constructed in 2008. By that year end, the foundation was laid for China's first seven-star hotel, a two-hundred metre skyscraper. Not to be outdone, the Sanya Visun International Yacht Club built a super-five-star yacht hotel with a seventy-two berth marina so that yachts could transport guests even to the hotel lobby.
On both sides of the islet’s causeway terminus are piers, enough to berth between one hundred and fifty and three hundred private yachts. Complimented with a supermarket to meet visitors’ daily needs and entertainment centres to occupy their time, these various facilities should enhance their relaxing and luxurious lifestyle.
A fifty-metre sculpture stands in the middle of the park near the causeway. The fire phoenix symbolises happiness and fortune, which will be the blessings for visitors.
Seeing a photograph of it makes me envious. I want to be blessed too. Like the Taiwanese lady, I am also murmuring, “Why can’t the guard just let us in!”
More mainlanders and foreigners are becoming increasingly aware of the beauty and attractions of Sanya, and property prices are escalating. As we stand gazing at Phoenix Island, a sales agent in his mid-twenties thrusts into our hands a pamphlet about a project further up the road. A unit with three bedrooms in the condominium bloc costs about one and a half million RMB. I mentally calculate the equivalent in Singapore dollars. It is $300,000. That is cheap, I tell myself.
“How long is the lease?”
“Thirty years.”
That is shocking. It is not cheap for a mendicant like me, or for most Hainanese, when the comparative price for a unit with a ninety-year lease would hit four and a half million RMB ($900,000). Our freehold townhouse in the eastern suburb of Sydney has a re-sale value of about $700,000. Of course, being a kilometre from the beach, it offers none of the fantastic bird’s-eye view of the ocean.
Running parallel to Sanya Bay Road, the coastal walkway to Golden Phoenix Seaview Hotel is initially broad. Since our hotel is only about a kilometre distant, Jo and I decide on a laid-back stroll. It is evening, and the sky is grey. Being smoothly tiled, the path is easy on our feet as we slowly admire the environment.
Something surprises us. Too poor to afford even a small boat, a young man in his early thirties is sitting on a make-shift pontoon, a thin nylon net neatly packed with flat and buoyant white-polystyrene foams. Struggling to paddle it, he stops periodically, carefully releasing each time into the shallow water one of the eight fishing nets neatly arranged on the edge behind him. Each net unfolds like a long transparent tube and submerges. He is trapping small fish or prawns.
Releasing net to catch small fish; young employee contemplating
释放网捕小鱼; 年轻雇员冥想
The two-metre broad path tapers off as it nears Golden Phoenix Seaview Hotel, the beach front there preventing its expansion. A narrow jetty of about twenty metres in length is under construction. After welding some parts of the steel structure, the youth is taking a break. He sits pensively on its edge, staring into the water. His electrical equipments are beside him. They are powered by a generator near a small tent, which stores his belongings. We leave him to his thoughts. I too am immersed in mine.
What strike me most in Sanya are the incessant building constructions. Many hotels like the ones across the road have been built in anticipation of tourist influx. Speaking in a 2008 interview, Sanya’s Deputy Mayor Li Boqing divulged that the 3.7 billion RMB committed to the twenty-six tourism infrastructure projects on the island that year would dwarf its international rivals. Those projects would attract the higher end of the tourist market. In 2007, Banyan Tree (Singapore), Mandarin Oriental, and Ritz-Carlton had welcomed their first guests.
Currently, room rates are still cheap by international standards; so also are the cuisine and souvenirs. With its mild and warm weather, Sanya will invariably be a serious competitor to Bali and Phuket. The Indonesian island is unsafe because of the overarching threat of terrorism while the Thai island is subject to travel vagaries such as the unscheduled Bangkok Airport closures as a result of pickets and sit-downs by zealots of the two main rival political parties, which left tourists stranded for days.
Numerous tourists flock to Sanya
许多游客参观三亚
At the beach across Golden Phoenix Seaview Hotel about twenty-five people are crowding around a gentleman, who is fashioning a sand castle. Topless, his body is tanned and muscular, although slightly plump. In his mid-forties, his face is round. The lower legs of his pair of pants have been neatly folded up to his knees to prevent it from getting wet. He wears a pair of Dutch-style clogs made from vulcanized rubber, which is in vogue among some middle-aged Chinese. Spectators are effusive in their admiration.
“Waah, hen mei (Wow, very beautiful),” one exclaims.
“Shi (Yes).” I concur.
His fort occupies about four square metres of the beach. On top of the guard wall is a meticulously built four-level watchtower, which will crumble if it is not kept moist. Along both edges of the wall are small equally vulnerable pillars made with a pinch of damp sands. He rushes to the tide and scoop its water with a coconut husk. He returns and slowly sprinkles water on the different sections to reinforce the compacted sand.
In my pidgin Mandarin I speak to him. Through Jo’s translation, I gather that he is a driver from Harbin. For the last five years, he has been coming to Sanya to escape the winter. Harbin is the capital of Heilongjiang, the northeastern province of China, where temperature in some parts can plunge to as low as minus thirty degrees Celsius. Even in Harbin, the day temperature can be a freezing minus ten degrees. I sympathize with the thirty-eight million Chinese, living in his province. During his ten days here, he has been creating his fantasy castle every afternoon.
He is very happy to share his joy with others, he explains. He is very obliging, writing his name and address on my note book. Two young girls standing beside me spontaneously ask to sign their names beside his. We have a good laugh. Sadly, the rolling waves are touching the edge of the castle, and water is filling the moat. Soon the accomplished art will dissipate. And all that the fortunate crowd will retain is a wonderful memory of the taxi driver from Harbin and his sacrificial effort. Jo and I thank him. We leave, looking for a café since it is fairly dark.
Harbin cab driver spends his annual holiday in Sanya
哈尔滨出租车司机在三亚度假
Lin Gong Xian (林功贤) is the owner of a small laundry at Chaoyang First Alley, the adjacent lane of our hotel. Only in his mid-thirties, this Hainanese gentleman is supporting both his young family and his parents. He is extremely overjoyed when I say that I regard him as my friend. He even attempts to waive the 48-RMB laundry fees but I insist on paying him. $10 may be a small sum to me but 48 RMB is a large sum for his family. The trust and friendliness of the local Hainanese is reassuring to me. Two years later, he would shift his business elsewhere when a laundry chain Zheng Zhuang Dry Cleaning Shop (正庄干洗店; Zheng zhuang ganxi dian) installs a branch along Jiefang West Road at the New Sea Garden Building, fifty metres from his shop.
Zheng Zhuang Dry Cleaning Shop, Jiefang West Road
正庄干洗店, 解放西路
A blogger’s photograph of the statue of Zhao Ding has always befuddled me. Where in Sanya is it located? I have quizzed some taxi drivers but they are unaware of its existence. I have only one more day left. Desperately, I turn to our hotel receptionists, the lady managing a travel agency, and finally the proprietress of a shop at the hotel entrance. In the shop, a girl, discussing an item with her three friends, overhears my request. She mentions seeing a statue of weaver Huang Daopo and some other statues at Tianya Haijiao. But the name “Zhao Ding” eludes her. I thank her.
Walking over to Guoxi Hotel, I speak to a concierge waiting on the entrance steps for guests. I finally turn to the driver of a coach parked in front. He seems slightly drunk, reeking of alcohol. Vigorously shaking my right hand, he does not release it but keeps repeating, “Ni hen lihai, ah!” (“You are formidable, hey!”)
I smile; I do not know how to react to his exclamation. Is it one of praise? Or is it sarcasm?
“Mei guanxi. Xie xie ni.” (“It doesn’t matter. Thank you.”)
Thanking him, I delicately extricate myself and move off. I am resigned to missing out on a grandiose characterization of Zhao Ding.
Where is Zhao Ding?
赵鼎在哪里？
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Rambling around my ancestral Hainan