Ningde, Sandu'ao and Doumu Island (Miscellaneous Notes on a 26-Day Trip to Fujian and Guangdong, Part 9)

Crossing the sea to an island.

The small island is called Sandu'ao, and it's the seat of the township government.

A few days ago, along the prime area of the Min River in Fuzhou, I saw a Qi Tian Da Sheng shrine, which surprised me greatly. But perhaps it's just my lack of experience. On this small island at the township level in Ningde, taking a casual stroll, within half an hour I found two Qi Tian Da Sheng temples. Of course, the local village is called Sun something village.

Very clean, very quiet. You can view the sea, or climb the hills. The slopes are covered with banana groves, and every village entrance has ancient trees. Inside the temples, various deities stand side by side (at least twenty or thirty sharing a single Dragon King temple).

Actually, the island's highlights are not these traditional buildings, not the Sun Dasheng or Dragon King temples, nor the barracks marked as restricted areas in many places.

My trip here was to pass through banana groves, bend over and walk up the slopes, to see those Western-style buildings that have leaves unswept, houses unattended, not yet become internet-famous spots, not yet attracting countless girls and aunties to pose and strike fancy postures.

This place is located in the hinterland of China's coastline, with deep and good water for berthing Chinese and foreign merchant ships. Historically and to this day, it has been a port for the export of Fujian's tea and porcelain on the Maritime Silk Road. In modern times, it is an important naval port and fishing port.

In modern history, the Fuhai Customs was established here in 1899, one of the four major customs in Fujian.

According to introductions, 24 Western countries once set up consular offices on the island, and numerous foreign firms traded here. 80% of imported kerosene in inland China entered through this port.

Thus, the island has the Fuhai Customs Tax Office, a Christian church, a convent, a hospital, Western-style villas, etc.

Partial view of the Fuhai Customs official building.

There should also be a school. One building looked familiar, similar to the primary and secondary schools I attended in Xujiahui, but since most buildings here lack nameplates, I couldn't confirm.

In 1944, this place was bombed by Japanese aircraft, destroying most of the docks and buildings.

Today, it is a frontline facing Taiwan, with slogans of supporting the army and cherishing the people visible everywhere.

When I left the island, the sun hidden behind the clouds occasionally showed its face, the sky and clouds gradually turned golden, and the sea surface was stunningly beautiful.

This is another small island, with a name that carries a hint of immortality: Doumu Island. It is under the jurisdiction of Sandu'ao.

A 'mu' character, again a goddess. However, locals also call it Doumao Island.

It's not easy to get there. Normally there are two ferry trips a day, but if there are few passengers, they might not even depart.

Only private speedboats are available. The speedboat couldn't even find other passengers, leaving me alone. I splurged and chartered a round trip.

The benefit is also that the whole island, this afternoon, I had it all to myself.

A pile of chaotic rocks, made of granite, stacked on a sea island. It looks like a miniaturized version of Mount Taimu. One on land, one at sea, echoing each other from afar. If you use your imagination, the shapes really resemble things vividly. Though called an island, it's also about climbing and drilling through caves. In mid-December, the weather even made this old man's shirt soaked through.

The sea is densely covered with net enclosures, and fishing rafts form a continuous camp, with small houses visible on them. It's said there are police stations, telecommunications offices, general stores, etc., making it a veritable water city.

Different from Xiapu, which is mainly kelp and laver, this is a national base for farming large yellow croaker. It's said the water here has slightly lower salinity than the open sea, suitable for the growth of large yellow croaker.

It's said that the large yellow croaker on our dining tables are no longer wild; all come from here.

After dinner tonight, when I returned to my hotel, I saw courier trucks nearby loading foam boxes one after another, all filled with fish.

In Shanghai, I don't particularly like this kind of fish because it has a feed smell, but after eating it here for several days, there is no strange taste at all. Why is that?