EXCERPTS-CRUISING THE YANGTZE

There we were, my husband and I, standing at the edge of a hill overlooking the mighty Yangtze River and there was our Chinese owned, five star luxury cruise ship, the "East King" of the China Orient Royal Cruise Line anchored alongside two other cruise ships in November, 2002. Construction on the Three Gorges Dam that would raise the river at least 100-150 feet by the end of June, 2003 impelled us to embark on one of the last ships to travel on the Yangtze at the water level that had existed for centuries.

The dam project teeming with 20,000 construction workers and 3,000 engineers, was situated on a piece of granite that crosses the limestone basin of the Yangtze. The completed dam would be 6,600 feet (1.23 miles) wide and 607 feet high, the largest dam in the world ever built. The cement barrier would create a reservoir 370 miles long, transforming the wild Yangtze into a serene lake that would submerge 13 cities, 140 towns, 1352 villages, 657 factories, and 75,000 acres of cultivated land. That meant that at least 2.3 million people would have to be relocated.

A bypass system had been created to enable cruise ships to continue to pass upriver. Our tour would not begin until breakfast the next day, therefore, after we boarded our deluxe stateroom with twin beds, a private bath (shower) and windows looking out upon the river, we rose very early the next morning after a restful sleep to don jackets and wind breakers to go up out onto the deck to meet gale force winds as we passed through the longest of the Three Gorges (Sanxia), the spectacular Xiling gorge, that actually consists of a number of gorges about forty seven miles long that lasted about an hour. Photos cannot describe this masterpiece of massive, sheer walls framing each side of the river, so rugged and gigantic, with the higher mountains rising above, that stories of an inland sea carving these gorges several thousand years ago are indeed believable.

We were also enthralled with the boat traffic, another highlight of the cruise..., barges with coal, tug boats, scores of Chinese style ferry boats (foreigners can also ride them instead of taking the luxury cruise ships), junkies, sampans...all honking their horns, plying the river. A delicious buffet breakfast of Western, Chinese and Japanese food awaited us after our view of this gorge, the chefs having already become skillfully adept at tossing perfect omelets into the air right before our eyes.

Afterwards, we were given a safety and emergency procedures briefing. Then with each of us clothed with life jackets, we were escorted onto a small ferry and within five minutes got off on a sandy shoal and then walked over gravel and rocks to the Shennong Stream, a tributary of the Yangtze. This was to be our first excursion, a bonus from our China Travel agency from New York that I had contacted because all excursions on this cruise ship were included in this set price of $USD495 per person. About fifteen of us in eleven groups each climbed into a wooden sampan boat, three seats in each row which had a folding back to support us.

Tan-skinned Chinese on each end held a bamboo paddle or pole with a sharp metal point at the end of it to push the small boats away...first from the mud banks near the Yangtze and then away from the mostly rocky sides of the Shennong Stream. Four other bronzed, muscular men called "trackers" who had jumped into each sampan at the beginning of this excursion jumped out almost as quickly as the current became stronger with one rope held between them and strapped around their shoulders, first plugged along barefoot and pulled our sampan upstream in the very shallow water. Then they leaped onto the bank of the stream and pulled us along as if they were work animals or oxen.

We were told by our female, English-speaking guide, a local resident of the area as well as an employee of the cruise line who sat in front of the sampan, that these "trackers" began this work of pulling their own people in these kinds of boats from the time they were eleven years old! In times past, "trackers" pulled loaded junks and later steamboats with ropes a quarter mile long. The farther we were hauled into the narrows of this gorge, we could see the sheer cliffs and chasms of unbelievable proportions carved out from the erosion of water thousands of years ago.

Then our eyes focused on a tree or two about halfway down the cliff that hung upon a precipice with seemingly no place for roots to embed. We did not want this all pervasive atmosphere to be taken away from us, yet all too soon, the boats ahead of us turned around and we being at the end of the line followed them. Then our guide who had been giving us some of the history of the gorge on the way told us to look several hundred feet above on one side of a mostly sheer wall. "There are coffins up there," she said. We couldn't imagine coffins with dead people, but it was true. Years ago, the Chinese would actually lower coffins over the top of this gorge and other high cliffs, place them in the crevices and leave them there. As our guide explained, "The higher up the dead were, the closer they would be to heaven," as believed at that time period.

Back on our cruise ship, we enjoyed our first set luncheon and then at two o'clock, we climbed up the stairway again to the top deck to view the second of the Three Gorges, the Wu Gorge, celebrated for its towering twelve Oaks which almost blot out the sun. This sight again made us aware that only a deluge of water with a terrific force could have carved this masterpiece such as the Flood of Noah's Day. Later that afternoon, we attended an acupressure reflexology demonstration and I was chosen as one of the two volunteers.

During the early evening, we passed quickly through the five mile long third and last gorge, the magnificent Qutang Gorge, cloistered by precipitous moss-clad cliffs, caves and vertical peaks rising upward to 3,700 feet, the river's current becoming swifter with the wind gently caressing our faces. People were waiting and waving as boats and cruise ships passed smaller hills and farms and we realized all too soon this area would be engulfed by water with the completion of that huge dam miles down the river.

After breakfast the next morning, we docked for another excursion near the foot of a huge, eleven story, red wooden monastery or temple shaped like a pagoda built into a rocky precipice about 300 feet above the northern bank of the river called Shibaozhai (Stone Treasure Stronghold. Instead of hiking the steps that lead up to this spiral effect architectural tourist attraction, we decided instead to just walk about the village below, on the lower hill, and visit some of the local people still living on the river.

To reach the village, we had to pass by all the souvenir and curio stands on the board walk, hear the barrage of vendors calling out in English, "Hello," "Take a look," "Have a look," "Come in," and be prompted to answer in Chinese, "Bu xie," (No thank you) or "Womende dian zai chuan." (Our money in ship). Of course, they did not believe that. They assume all Americans are rich. I did snap a photo of an old man with an interesting face who was selling fruit near the ship dock as shown here.

The only distressing thing on this excursion was seeing three beggars with broken limbs on the way back to the ship. Having already lived in China, we knew what had happened to them. Their legs or arms are deliberately broken when they are small, and then they are sometimes "sold" or kidnapped. Then they are taken by their "Masters" to different locations to lie on a sidewalk in a helpless position and beg for money which is turned over to their "Masters' who make the profit after feeding them.

One of these men with broken limbs, was lying in a semi-reclining position on the wooden plank with the skin of the stub of one of his legs exposed so that it looked almost raw. We wondered if it could be infected or if he could get gangrene. I had raised objections when I was living in China when we had seen so many beggars in the first city we had lived in, but was told that there were too many situations like this and the government could not keep track as to who were responsible. One of the passengers of our cruise ship, a Chinese woman born and raised in the U.S and now living in the San Francisco Bay Area, and assigned to dine at our table, came by, stopped and just stared at him. She said quietly to me, "I want to take a picture of him." I answered, "I understand, because you want people to know what happens here. But do not take his picture. I have some photos I can send to you like this."

I felt badly that tour groups had to witness such unpleasant scenes, yet there was probably nothing the cruise ship line could do to prevent this stark reality from happening along this beautiful landscape along the river. On board that afternoon we had a silk embroidery demonstration and learned that it was begun in the silk capital of Suzhou, by girls from ages five to six years old, and by the time they are thirty-five, they are almost blind. One piece of embroidery thread can be divided into over thirty smaller threads. We were shown an embroidered "picture about 24" x 24" of two roses with leaves and it was stunning! So was the price, $USD800!

The third and last evening of our cruise on the Yangtze was a presentation or staging of the "Celebration of the Emperor," with his wife and "concubines" to say "Farewell" (Zai Jian) to all of us before we docked in Chongqing the next morning. In the dining room before dinner was served, several Chinese employees donned traditional Chinese garb and posed for many of the passengers. Then they paraded past our tables gonging on drums in their lavish costumes. There was also a talent show with cruise tour volunteers.

Our last buffet breakfast of bacon, omelets, melon, muffins, custard, orange juice, green tea or coffee was served and anything else we wanted. We were told that some wealthy individuals from the U.S. had taken this same cruise line in the past. Therefore, apparently that meant something at least to these employees. To us, this cruise meant gathering more history of China as to how the Chinese lived on the river like this for centuries, yet now how many of them had to pack up, leave their homes for higher ground even now, and have to settle into high rise apartments, learn a new way of living culturally and secularly.

It is hoped this huge dam never breaks as it would no doubt flood as far as the city of Shanghai. Nevertheless, my husband and I really enjoyed our cruise very much as did the rest of the folks. -- November, 2002 -- This was almost three years before my dear Hawaiian husband died in the small town of Sandy a few miles from the well-known ski resort at Mt. Hood near Portland, Oregon.

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Tan-skinned Chinese on each end held a bamboo