The Black Shark Sea

by Zhang Wei

I

Old Uncle Seven got a new boat and asked Cao Mang to join him and go out fishing. Cao Mang was considering to offer.

It was just at the beginning of autumn and the weather was still very hot. Cao Mang had on a pair of short pants which exposed his long, round, ruddy-black legs. He was nineteen years old. His face was also ruddy-black and rough. He wasn't much of a talker and this led people to imagine that all his brute strength was pent up in the muscles of those legs of his. They truly were a pair beguiling legs. It was perhaps because of his legs that Old Uncle Seven regarded Cao Mang so highly.

Old Uncle Seven had the courage to take on big challenges. Sometimes people even considered that he was reckless. But afterwards, on careful hind-thought, you had to admit that in everything that he had done, he had been extremely clever. Before embarking on an endeavour he would always coolly and calmly calculate everything out. So he had never met with failure. However, everyone was discussing this new boat of his and the conclusion was that Old Uncle Seven was sure to meet with failure this time.

He had spent several thousand dollars to buy that boat. With the necessary nets and equipment, especially the so-called "seine net" which was so expensive to make, he had spent close to ten thousand dollars. Most of that had been borrowed, But that seine net was a fantastic contraption for catching fish! When it was cast into the ocean currents it became like a labyrinth just waiting to catch big fish! Nonetheless, anyone who took so much money out into that ocean of roiling waves still faced an inexpressible danger. Most significantly, his was the first new boat to be seen on the sea shore in a dozen or more years!

There had, of course, been many boats before, all belonging to the commune. They had caught a few fish and killed a few people. Even though very good crops could be grown on the plain by the seashore, people stubbornly insisted on running off to the sea. This was a constant source of the greatest annoyance for the higher level leadership. Once, a fishing boat run into trouble in the infamous region known as the Black Shark Sea. Many souls had been lost, among them, the famous stalwart, Cao De (Cao Mang's father). This finally brought people to their senses. They all vowed never to go out fishing again.

For the last year or two, aside from growing their crops, the people who lived by the sea had engaged in some most interesting vocations-. sugarcoating hawthorn apples to sell, and twisting moxa grass into rope to sell. The pits of the sour dates which grew by the seaside could also be sold for profit. But Old Uncle Seven would have nothing to do with these things, he bought a boat. Everyone stared at him with silent eyes. In their hearts they all knew that there was no way that Uncle Seven and his family could sail that kind of boat by themselves. Uncle Seven was a worthy seaman and he had two sons. But those two sons of his, so skinny and weak as they were, were no use. He had to find someone else to join them. But deep down, everybody was firmly admonishing themselves: Never join them.

If they had known what Uncle Seven was thinking at the time, they wouldn't have bothered to admonish themselves. Uncle Seven hadn't for a moment considered inviting any of them. He had his mind set on only one person: Cao Mang.

When people found this out they all heaved a deep sigh of relief. Whoever joined in on that boat would have to assume the heavy, ten thousand dollar financial burden with the ill-fated Old Uncle Seven. They would have to do battle with roiling sea together with him, and very possibly die together with him. Cao Mang was only nineteen, he still hadn't taken a wife. He was a strong, yet unseasoned young fellow. This was quite simply taking advantage of him.

Cao Mang didn't share this view. He said nothing, listened to some of the discussions people were having, then walked, unperturbed, from the main street to his home,. His black, exposed legs looked spring-like, and as he walked, the soles of his feet left deep cavities in the dirt. He thought to himself; Old Uncle Seven must think very well of me.

Although that is what he was thinking, he didn't immediately agree to join up. He told Uncle Seven that he wanted to give it a good thinking over. And Uncle Seven didn't press him to consent right away either. This was no trivial matter! Cao Mang was a bay who genuinely had ideas of his own. Returning home, he lay down on his kang,' resting his head on the palms of his hands. He thought for several hours in a row, but he still couldn't make up his mind.

That night the moon was shining and his room was filled with a dim yellow glow. Cao Mang felt a little downcast so he jumped down from the kang and walked around in His wooden sandals made a clacking sound on the surface of the ground. His room seemed really empty and cavernous. Cao Mang thought it would be good if only there were someone to talk it over with. He didn't remember how his mother had died; his father had died amid the chaotic reefs of the Black Shark Sea. It had been a horrible death, he still remembered that. From that time onwards he had lived by himself in this sturdy house, doing his own cooking. Nobody came to talk to him in their spare time, and he didn't have much worth saying himself...would he be unable to board that boat? This, Cao Mang thought, was a tough one. If he agreed, it was possible that his whole life would be given over to the great ocean.

He decided to find someone to talk it over with tomorrow.

Usually Cao Mang didn't visit this person much. In fact, there was every reason why he should have become closer to him, but because he was slightly afraid of him, he didn't often go to his place. That man was his father, Cao De's best friend. After Cao De died, he was the person most naturally in line to take care of Cao Mang.

He was called "Old Ge," and he was an old man. Only a few years back he had finally retired from one of the Ministry of Ocean's ships and returned to live. He had been the Captain of that ship and had returned only after suffering a stroke. Because he had spent his whole life at sea, his temperament and appearance were somewhat unusual. So Cao Mang had an inexpressible sense of dread for him, He no longer had the use of half of his body and his speech was slurred. All the same, when it came to boats and the sea, no one on the sea coast spoke with as much authority Besides that, Cao Mang felt that, with his father gone, he ought to listen to Old Ge. If the old man had said "go," then no matter what, he would have to go.

The next day Cao Mang found himself caught in a new dilemma: to go and see Old Ge or not?

In the end, Cao Mang went to see Old Ge.

The old captain was at home reading a book. He read while lying down, Cao Mang looked at the cover of the book and could tell that it was a book about whaling. Beside the pillow was another book, but the title was too odd and he couldn't make it out. On the cover was a picture of two muscular men having a fist fight. Old Ge flipped several pages, then picked up the fist fighting book as though he hadn't seen his visitor. Only after Cao Mang called out, "Old Ge," did he slowly sit up.

Old Ge was very thin and was wearing a white shirt with a wide collar which left his hard, purplish chest exposed. He already had very few teeth left, and his mouth was sucked in tightly. This unexpectedly made him look very obstinate. His eyeballs were yellowed but extremely bright. As he stared at Cao Mang, it was as if he were piercing him with a pair of awls. His back was severely hunched and his head hung down, but at that moment he straightened stiffly to look at Cao Mang. Cao Mang said: "Uncle Ge ... Old Uncle Seven wants to take me on his boat ... but, but I'm afraid that something will happen. want to hear what you have to say!......

"Huh?!" The old captain had listened attentively at first, then issued a garbled bellow.

"Old Uncle Seven wants to take me...Cao Mang repeated,

"You...The old captain started to cough. He coughed violently until his face turned purple. Cao Mang was standing too close and could see several scars on his face shaking, so he took a step back in fright.

As the old captain coughed his voice became more garbled still. Cao Mang was virtually unable to make out a single word. Mesmerized, his eyes followed a couple of the broken teeth in that sucked-in mouth, But the old captain's eyes had never left his, and Cao Mang was discomfited by their piercing, awl-like gaze. It was as though the old man had suddenly become angry. His chest heaved up and down at the It was as same time as he continued to cough violently.

Cao Mang couldn't make out a thing, and he was a little frightened. His face flushed as he stammered a few words and withdrew from the old man's room,

He regretted going to ask the old captain...On the shore, Old Uncle Seven and his two son's were gathered around the new boat. Cao Mang walked over.

Old Uncle Seven greeted him enthusiastically and made him sit down on the boat's gunwale. The boat was so new, everywhere it gave off the scent of tung oil. Oic Uncle Seven's two sons worked bare chested, busying themselves filling a small crack with caulking. As Uncle Seven smoked his pipe he said; "Come on, we'll be the first Old boat to put to sea. There's nothing to worry about..."

Cao Mang ran his hand over the gunwale but didn't reply.

"You shouldn't keep thinking about your dad, nothing like that's gonna happen. There's weather reports. and besides, it's a new boat, and after a year we'll fit some more equipment. I'm not bluffin'ya!" Uncle Seven fixed his eyes on Cao Mang as he spoke.

The two skinny sons piped in as well; "Come on, Brother Mang! The boat, the nylon nets, they're brand spanking new..."

Cao Mang said; "I've still got to think about it some more, okay?"

II

Old Uncle Seven waited patiently for Cao Mang to get aboard the boat. He always slept in the newly built fish store by the shore, guarding his beautiful boat. The villagers who came to see his boat all thought it was beautiful, and they also all considered it was ill-fated.

And Cao Mang never came. So Old Uncle Seven decided to hang up the seine net for now and go out into the shallow waters with his two sons to set the drift net.

The three of them rowed the boat out to sea.

The water in the shallows was a seductive blue and the ripples were so gentle. When the spray from the oars soaked them it felt wonderful. Strands and strands of seaweed, flock after flock of sea gulls. When the gulls flew over the boat you could see their snowy white bellies. The two sons were very happy, they puffed out their cheeks and greeted the gulls with high-pitched whistles. For Old Uncle Seven, the first time at sea was very important, but he suppressed the excitement at the bottom of his heart. When he saw his sons behaving the way the were he was slightly unhappy.

"Set the net!" he shouted.

His sons cast in the net. He rowed hard, watching the tiny whirlpools created by the tips of the oars, and the strings of small, very white bubbles rising from the brine. The great sea was too still, like someone smiling maliciously. Uncle Seven uttered not a word as he went about his work. He had things on his mind. It had been more than a dozen years since he last was tossed about on the sea and yet today all of his feelings and impressions lacked a sense of the genuine...His younger son clumsily pulled on the ropes controlling the net. His back was bent over by exertion and his vertebra protruded like some broken old bow. He picked up the floats with his hands and arduously tried to untangle the iron rings on the bottom of the net. His brother came over to help, thrusting his rump in the air with the effort, his small, torn trousers loomed directly before his father's face. No matter how much sun they got his legs were never tanned enough, a greyish hue showed through their whiteness and a purple vein crept down from the top of his thigh. Uncle Seven shouted out; "Give it a little slack, the current'll pull it out." As he called out he thought to himself that he hadn't done well by these two son's of his: They had grown to this age and they still hadn't eaten a good meal of fish! They had been fortunate enough to be born by the sea, but because their father didn't have the guts, they hadn't eaten fish. There was once that he had caught a few loaches off the bank of the Luqing River. He fried them up in the wok and let his son's fight over them...Uncle Seven's gaze moved from his sons to the fine looking plastic net floats bobbing in a line behind the boat.

After the drift net had been set they set out the small black flags which were required by seafaring rules to mark each section of the net. Then they rowed back.

The tide was going out, so they had to get out and push the boat over the shoals in the shallower places. For a while, after the three of them, father and sons, pushed the boat up onto one shoal, they didn't feel like going to shore. They lay on their backs in the shallow water and let the water sprinkle fine golden sand over them. The sun baked everything hot and, like many pairs of small soft hands, the current flowed warmly over and under their bodies, lightly caressing them as it passed. It had been a long time since Old Uncle Seven had had this kind of sensation. He happily set his beard in motion, letting the breath flowing from his nostrils blow aside the water and sand which slowly flowed over his face.

When he turned to look towards the north his face immediately tensed up. Behind a layer of mist he could vaguely make out a black shadow like two banks of dark clouds failing into the sea. The black shadow grew larger and larger and exposed itself as a dark reef on the face of the tide: It was like a huge shark which had run aground.

Old Uncle Seven closed his eyes and, as if talking to himself, yet at the same time talking to his sons, said: "That's where Cao De died. That's the Black Shark Sea. From ancient times it's been a dangerous place, and the place where the big fish are. A lot of people died that time. They drown, or froze to death, and some were frightened to death...One day I want to put my seine net down over there."

The two boys stared at their father's face but didn't speak...

As dark began to fall they started to go and bring up the drift net.

The tide was in and the wind had blown up. As the boat was thrown about by the sea the two youngsters kept falling down until their arms and legs were covered with black and blue bruises. Droplets of water hung from Old Uncle Seven's face as he grimly worked the oar. When he saw one of his sons crawling on the bow of the boat he took a steel boat hook, hooked it in his son's belt and yanked him up. He said; "This is pretty good weather, it's still fishing weather."

The small black flags attached to the drift net waved back and forth in the wind. They seemed to be signaling to their boat. The two youngsters had just spotted the flags when they started to throw up. It suddenly turned colder, raising goose bumps all over the brother's bodies and forcing them to hunch their shoulders. A gull flying above them started to laugh uproariously as though overcome with joy.

It was as if Old Uncle Seven's foot was glued to the gunwale. He remembered going out to sea once a dozen or more years ago. Then he was still a hardy young man who feared nothing, but the last time that he went to sea had left him with seemingly unending regrets.

It was a winter's morning when he, along with two old men, had gone out to take up the last drift net. They wore padded cotton jackets with a layer of rain gear over them. The waves were very high. Whitecaps broke all around the boat, issuing a them. The waves were very high. Whitecaps broke all around the boat, issuing a sound that seemed like laughter: "Ha, hahaha..." The crew were all accustomed to the sea's cold laughter and sat there as though nothing were amiss ... then they started bringing up the net. It wouldn't be long before that net would be rotting in the corner of some storehouse in any case, for it was the last time it was taken out to sea. They were all lazily going about their work. Suddenly they pulled out a huge creature with black spots all over its body. They were completely unprepared and fumbled around for a time looking for the wooden club. He recalled that this exceptionally large creature scraped itself over the gunwale, rubbing off a few scales as big as five-cent pieces, then it started to flop around violently. It leapt so high that it genuinely startled them. If it hadn't been tangled in the net it would have leapt straight back into the sea! He wrapped his arms around it as if holding a chubby child, but he could tell that this was an old fish. He released it from the net and as he was very close to it, he could see how viciously it looked at him, its teeth biting together so hard they made a sound. When it opened its mouth wide he could smell the oppressive stench. Just as he called to the two older men on the boat, the fish started writhing in his arms. Its twisting made him fall to the deck. Then it began leaping about until it leapt back into the waves ...

That last time at sea had to be considered highly inauspicious.

Old Uncle Seven rowed the boat, still regretting what had happened more than a dozen years ago. Later he figured out the reason for his failure. He knew that the problem was that it had been his "last time." Everyone has a last time for doing anything, but you shouldn't think that this one is that last time. Only then can you keep the strength and determination concentrated in the fingers on your hands. And that way, even the toughest beast needn't think about trying to escape from your arms like that one had.

"Black flags. we're at the drift net!" His sons shouted.

Old Uncle Seven's eyes opened up as round as saucers; " Open the hatch!" he shouted, putting down the oars and standing on the deck with his legs apart.

The net was slowly hauled up. liang fish, flounders, and Spanish mackerel with the net caught in their mouths, swished their snowy-bright tails around. The three of them were overjoyed. Uncle Seven grunted an "Ah, ah ah" sound as he pulled out he fish and muttered to himself: "...the liang fish dies in the "pincers," the flounder dies on the "hook,"---Those things have a mouth like a hook. When it gets hooked on the net it can't get away! Look, this is a black-skinned knife fish,, its a real nasty one, you just touch it and it gets mad as hell ... Watch out for the puffer fish! It's got a fearsome mouth..." Old Uncle Seven was beside himself with joy, and his beard was covered with flashing fish scales. He couldn't even tell the size of the fish anymore, he was so excited by this this first catch that he couldn't focus properly.

The two brothers took out the fish and then lowered the net back into the sea. The youngest son stood with his legs apart, but he didn't dare stand on the bow because he always fell. When he fell, the fish took advantage of the situation and escaped. Uncle Seven was at once anxious and excited as he shouted sharply; "Hey! Hey!"

The net slid up and over the top of the gunwale.as though it were being produced from the hull of the boat. Uncle Seven was concerned that the boat was moving too fast and overrunning the net He was afraid that the hull would rip the net, so he worked the oar at the stern of the boat for all he was worth. Just then something pitch black slowly protruded out of the water. It was as shiny and smooth as an inflated rubber inner tube, bulging and round. The brothers hollered in alarm when they made out that it was the back of a great fish. When the big fish came out of the water it's white belly flashed It made a gurgling sound and started to jump.

Old Uncle Seven immediately ran up to it, but unfortunately the boat pitched abruptly sending him sprawling. As he scrambled up he shouted to them: "Use your fingers, don't use your arms..." But the two brothers were already wrapping their arms around it and using their fists to pound on its skull. But the time Old Uncle Seven had picked himself up the great fish had already ripped the boy's flesh and angrily leapt back into the surf.

"You should use your fingers." Old Uncle Seven told them in a low, sympathetic voice as he squatted on the deck. He felt greatest pity for them. He thought the boat should have someone on board, it should have Cao Mang! The very first time that Cao Mang went to sea he knew to use his fingers. In a few seconds he would have clubbed the fish's skull with a wooden club.

The boat really should have Cao Mang aboard.

III

Cao Mang had a good sleep. It had been several nights since he had slept. He first heard the sound of the ocean tide, then he thought of that boat. He knew long ago that Old Uncle Seven and his two sons had pushed the boat out to sea, and that is what had made him lose sleep at night.

When he couldn't sleep he often thought of Old Ge's words. He hadn't really made them out that day because since his stroke the old captain's speech had become garbled and unclear, and on top of that he coughed constantly. But he had clearly seen that face flushed beet-red and covered with moles that trembled as he coughed. The old captain was obviously angry, he didn't understand why, nor did he dare to ask. If there was anyone left on the sea coast who Cao Mang feared, it had to be Old Captain Ge. He also feared his father, but his father couldn't control him anymore.

When Old Ge had retired and come back, the village leader had recommended that Cao Mang should take him into his home to live together. Although Cao Mang feared him, he looked upon him as someone who was like a father. He had gone to invite him, but the old captain wouldn't leave his house for anything. He shouted garbled threats, pounded the ground with his black pepper wood walking stick and waved his hands wildly. Seeing his firm refusal, Cao Mang returned to his own sturdy, spacious big house.

Old Ge's temperament was just too strange. None of the villagers dared get close to him and he never had anything to do with them. He grew a few vegetables by himself and when he had nothing else to do he lay on his bed and read. People said-, He never took a wife his entire life, and he lived on the ocean, it's just natural that he's odd. Because of the special relationship between him and Cao De, Cao Mang always went to see the old captain as a matter of courtesy. This just made people look at Cao Mang strangely. They all seemed to feel that any youngster who dared to have odd. Mang strangely. They all seemed to feel that any youngster who dared to have dealings with that kind of old man must be a little strange himself. In fact, Cao Mang and the old man seldom had any emotional interaction. He didn't like to talk himself, and the old captain also refused to utter a word. Even when the old captain sometimes did say a very few words, the couldn't be understood. On holidays he might send him a chicken or some apples, but the old man would only use his walking stick to point to the window ledge for him to put them there.

It could be said that at that moment Cao Mang had arrived at a fork in the road of his life. In recent years the village had become very lively as everyone was boldly going into business. But he still hadn't decided what he should do. Should he go aboard the boat? It was altogether too heavy a matter for him. He needed to mull over the words of the old captain, and even more he needed to form his own opinion. He was nineteen.

In the morning he aimlessly left his house and walked out onto the street. It was still early and people were all just standing around. He deliberately lowered his head and watched his own legs and feet. After walking for awhile he raised his head once again and let the sun shine down on that roughhewn face. obstinacy about him, this was something everyone could see.

Suddenly someone shouted out and everyone looked off in one direction. Cao Mang could see that there was someone walking towards them with the morning sun at his back. He couldn't see clearly, but when he looked more closely, he could make out that it was Old Uncle Seven. He was carrying a long, thin, very springy bamboo pole over his shoulder. On the end of the pole were tied two plump sea perch. Old Uncle Seven had deliberately placed the thick end of the pole over his shoulder so that the fish pulled the tip into a comical bow.

Cao Mang was stupefied as he watched that pair of beautiful perch. He knew that Old Uncle Seven must have just caught them. People on both sides of the street looked enviously at him and at his fish. But he just held his pole tightly and walked onwards.

Old Uncle Seven hadn't actually seen Cao Mang. But Cao Mang was drawn in and followed along behind him.

He made several turns and then stood in front of a small house. Cao Mang was struck dumb; could it be the old captain's house? He stared as Uncle Seven took the fish off the pole, held them high in his hands, then pushed open the door and went in.

This was the only time when Old Captain Ge was not lying down reading. Rather, he seemed to have had some kind of premonition, for he was sitting on a large reed stool in the middle of the little courtyard. Behind him was an impressive iron-bark elm tree. When he saw Old Uncle Seven coming bearing fish, he gleefully stroked is black pepper wood walking stick.

"Old Captain! I've put out to sea ... these two fish are just a small token of respect!" Old Uncle Seven was half squatting, looking very serious.

The old captain smiled and nodded his head, then he had Old Uncle Seven place the fish beside him.

Uncle Seven said; "in past I couldn't buy a boat, but now it's possible. What Dot to fear? I am determined to take this boat out to sea..."

Old Ge opened his yellow eyes wide and moved about with great effort, looking very agitated. He said over and over: "Ah, huh. You!..." As he spoke he started to cough hard, turning his face a deep purplish red and making all his wrinkles and scars shake.

Cao Mang had been standing in the doorway the whole time, but now he couldn't help stepping in.

Old Uncle Seven happily called to him, but Old Ge acted as though he hadn't seen anyone enter.

Old Ge invited Old Uncle Seven to stay and have some wine and Uncle Seven agreed. He picked up the fish and was about to put them away when he casually said to the old captain; "Why don't you let Cao Mang stay and have a drink too!" Who would have imagined that no sooner had the words left his mouth than the old captain finally stood up. With difficulty he took a step forward and rapped Cao Mang on the leg with his walking stick. He angrily started to yell- "You!... (cough, cough! cough...)"

"Uncle Ge, I..." Cao Mang plucked up his courage and shouted as he fixed his piercing stare on the yellow eyes of the old captain. His legs were like two stone pillars planted firmly in the earth beneath his feet.

The old captain returned his stare, his mouth hung open, exposing two half-broken teeth which weren't willing to fall out just yet. The deep wrinkles all over his face grew animated. From his neck to his chest there was a diagonal scar --- It was as if Cao Mang had just then discovered that scar for the first time. He could see it trembling and flashing. Cao Mang was flustered and retreated a step, stammering, then he turned face and walked away.

Old Uncle Seven had been standing there all along, holding the perch, uncomprehending...

Cao Mang left. He was sweating heavily.

As he neared the shore he saw that boat again --- The two brothers, bare to the waist, were sitting on it pounding on something. He avoided the boat and at some distance he took off his clothes.

He dove into the sea and swam deep below the surface for a very long way. Afterwards he climbed back onto the shore, completely covered with sand. The sun dried his body which issued all over a layer of an oily substance which shone with a glow. He clasped his hands over his face and the tears seeped through the gaps between his fingers. Then he sat up and gazed at the black ocean water off to the northeast. The secret hiding place of the spirit of the black shark shoals was covered by a ring of fog. He stared at it gritting his teeth. His father had died in that stretch of black ocean.

He still remembered what his father looked like. He was small and thin, with a waxy yellow complexion, and when he spoke his voice was very soft. He was the general director of the commune's fleet of boats and, truth be told, people called him "The Little Tyrant." When Cao Mang was very small his father took him out to sea. After six months Cao Mang could swim a long distance from the boat, Once the young Cao Mang had gone out on a sampan to inspect the nets. The sampan capsized in the surf and he went missing overboard. Four days later his father finally found him on a tiny shoal. His father proudly told people: "This boy will never drown." From a very young age Cao Mang knew that his life would be given to the sea. He never applied himself at school and only thought about when he would be able to go back to sea.

When Old Ge came back from the sea the first thing he did was to seek out Cao Mang's father to have a drink. When his father spoke, everyone, no matter who, had to shut up. But whenever Old Ge spoke, his father would listen attentively. Old Ge wasn't tall, but he was very muscular. In his younger days he had fought with some pirates and killed three of them. Every time his father saw Old Ge off he would turn to Cao Mang and say: "That's the only hero in this entire village."

But later Cao Mang came to hate Old Ge. It was fall, not long after his father had drown. Old Ge had come ashore and, eyes bloodshot, had slept in Cao Mang's house. The next day he bought some chili peppers for a snack and drank all the wine that his father had left behind. That night Cao Mang was thinking of his father. His weeping startle Old Ge out of his sleep. For that Cao Mang got a punch in the face. Cao Mang must have forgotten that Old Ge had once killed three pirates because he jumped up like a little panther and flung himself at the old man. The result was that he got an even sounder beating. He crawled back onto his bed. Despite the fact that Old Ge was extremely regretful after he sobered up, Cao Mang still hated him.

At the time Cao Mang was only nine years old. The night before Old Ge was to put out to sea again he gave Cao Mang a severe talking to: "Don't ever cry again! Study hard and at least finish high school! I'll give you money for school every month. If you need money for food or other things you can ask me for it. You can consider me your father!"

Old Ge did what he said he would. Cao Mang grew up. He still had a slight resentment of Old Ge, but more importantly, he had an inarticulate fear of him. Probably, like all the other people who lived by the sea, from the time his father died he had begun to distance himself from the sea.

He distanced himself from the sea, but he never forgot it. When the waves roar day and night no one can forget it. The great sea is like a puzzle which can't be solved: The great sea is like a wild horse which can never be tamed! His father had died in the Black Shark Sea, but no one could say that his father wasn't a man of iron; Old Captain Ge had been struck down by a stroke, he only had two broken teeth left in his head, but he had killed three vicious pirates and no one could say that he wasn't a man of iron as well. Cao Mang was strong and he was tall, but he didn't believe that he could every surpass those to men of iron. That's the way he looked at it.

So, he hesitated. Should he go aboard Old Uncle Seven's boat or not?

At that moment he felt wronged. It was because he couldn't make out what the old captain was saying, and the old captain had gotten so angry with him! It was the first boat after all, and it had no small amount of allure. From the trembling lips of the old captain he knew that there was much that he wanted to say. Old Ge just had a very strange temperament and a good part of the strangeness was due to his overbearing manner. Cao Mang thought again of the nasty beating he had taken as a child. The sea waves flooded up the shore with a surging sound and foam soaked his entire body. Countless breakers shrugged up their shoulders, failing spectacularly over the shore ... Cao Mang grasped a fistful of sand tightly, then pounded hard on his sturdy legs. He stood up, put on his clothes, then walked off with big strides.

Feeling slightly angry, he thought; why do I have to figure out what Old Ge says after all? I'm nineteen years old, what do I think? He stopped, then turned and looked at the string of deep footprints which he had left on the beach. He said to himself; maybe I won't be better than those two men of iron, but why can't I be a third man of iron?!

IV

In the end, Old Uncle Seven's boat got its Cao Mang.

That early autumn would remain for a very long time in the memories of the people on the coast. A dozen or more years ago they had bid farewell to boats and sails, but now a new boat had stirred into motion the desires and melancholy that still lingered in their hearts. Old Uncle Seven had joined forces with Cao Mang, strong as an ox, to work a boat. That boat washed a disturbing air of vitality into the lives of the people. For so many years now the people had been trained like some shy young bride, so they felt now small amount of shock when confronted with resolute, stern courage, and a valiant masculine will to press forward undaunted. When Old Uncle Seven's two sons saw Cao Mang aboard the boat they were even happier than Uncle Seven himself. Cao Mang was stern faced and didn't talk much, but simply for them to see that ruggedness, and the dark, ruddy complexion of his face gave them strength. They were all certain that Cao Mang could never fear the ocean surf.

To begin with, they continued as before to set the drift net in the swallow waters close to shore. Each catch was about the same. The fish weren't too big, or too numerous. There were hardly any long hairtail fish. They once caught two finless eels. A couple of days later they pulled them out of the hold and they were still lashing their tails around. They were fish with a tremendously strong will to live. The bighead fish had a perennial smiles on their faces and even when they were hauled onto the deck they still gaily flung their great heads around. But there were no beguiling sea perch, or Spanish mackerel with their grey stripes which, once out of the water, looked like a steel knife. Every time Old Uncle Seven hauled up the nets he shook his head with regret.

They also tried using the fine meshed net. The result was that they came up with so many small catfish, sardines and clump after clump of seaweed. Almost all of those had to be given back to the sea. Old Uncle Seven said; "I want to go over there and let out the seine net-- -That net cost me a few thousand bucks. When a big fish gets into it, its just like they ran into a maze! But the thing is, that thing can't stand a heavy wind. If you get a force six or seven wind you have to take it up, its a damn nuisance.

Cao Mang gazed out at that stretch of black ocean without saying a word.

Old Uncle Seven lowered his voice: "if you want to catch big fish you have to go over there."

Cao Mang nodded his head: "Tomorrow let's load up the seine net!"

The next day they put a sail on the boat and, as planned, made for that stretch of black ocean.

Such a mysterious stretch of ocean! A stretch of ocean that held within it endless fearful tales! At that moment it was a pure greenish blue; smooth, without a ripple. It was transparent, like a liquid, yet densely concentrated green crystal. There were no fragments of whitecaps, and the boat slid along on a substance as soft and sleek as velvet. The atmosphere there didn't have the same fetid smell as that near the coast, in fact it had a strangely clear fragrance seeming to have become very approachable. ,. Not far away, the sun smiled at them, There, its hands would never be scalding hot, nor would it ever tear the skin from the backs of all those swarthy, sunburned fishermen. There, it was the true ocean breeze of September which stirred. The boat was not tossed, and people need not blink.

Since Cao Mang hadn't said anything the whole way Old Uncle Seven remained silent. His two sons looked at each other trying hard to suppress the excitement they felt deep in their hearts. Very quickly they were able to make out the strange rock which looked like a shark. The wind started to freshen a little. The seabirds which landed on the shoals cried sharply. at The hull of the boat, for some unknown reason, always trembled slightly and those on board finally felt the swift flowing of the ocean currents.

They very soon began to lower the anchors. These huge iron anchors were the roots of the seine net. If a strong wind came and they took up the seine net, they would still leave behind its roots. After the wind passed they could very quickly secure the net back to the same roots ... As Old Uncle Seven worked he chewed on his empty pipe, so that when he wanted to say something he just made a nasal grunting sound. He pointed out to sea with his pipe. The three young men all saw a small shark shyly swimming around the floats of the newly set seine net...

Cao Mang worked without uttering a word. With the skin on his face drawn tightly he hauled on the ropes or let down the anchors all day, biting his lips and letting out stifled grunts. He stood with his foot on the gunwale of the boat and it trembled under his step. The four of them worked all day without rest and as the sun was setting in the west the seine net was finally set!...

As Old Uncle Seven's boat plunged into the Black Shark Sea the people in the village all looked at each other, but very soon they were all exclaiming in amazement.

A brand new boat with its billowing white sail charged off, time and again, to the northeast. There they took the fish which had entered the "labyrinth" and put them in the hold of the boat! This was nothing short of miraculous. The great mackerel with their black backs, yellow croakers, black-skinned knife fish... all were meekly transported to the shore. The people in the village all clicked their tongues.

They didn't know how much the four of them had to struggle.

The boat sailed into that stretch of black sea. Four naked backs shone under the sun's rays. Fish plucked from the net also shone on the deck. They flopped about, struggling for all they were worth, their razor sharp fins cutting into the feet of the fishermen. The fish here were huge and had amazing strength, especially if they had just swum into the net. Then, pulling them out of the net was a life and death struggle. Old Uncle Seven clenched his teeth around his empty pipe. In front of him were those thick, dark legs of Cao Mang. The mesh of the net, drenched with water, constantly tightened around those legs, but the legs never budged. They were truly like a pair of steel pillars. Cao Mang could haul up twelve sections of net in no time, without even straightening his back. The great fish would slap his face with their tails as he took their gills firmly between his thumb and forefinger and pressed them to the deck. The fish gnashed their chisel-like teeth but could never bite Cao Mang's fingers. As they fell to the deck they would bite hard into the belly of another great fish. Cao Mang often just kicked the fish into the hold as the two brothers sighed in amazement.

The deck was covered with fish blood, scales and sticky slime. Once Old Uncle Seven's younger son slipped and fell, knocking out one of his teeth on the gunwale. At some point Old Uncle Seven's pipe had been flung into the sea. ..

They kept fishing all the way up to Mid-Autumn festival, but they hadn't had to take the net up very often.

After Mid-Autumn festival the wind chilled and the waves got bigger,so the number of times they had to take up the net and seek cover from the wind gradually increased. The four of them were so tired that their backs felt like they would break, and they were all obviously thinner. Old Uncle Seven had seriously considered taking the seine net out for a bit of a break, but as soon as the winds went down they would take the net and secure it to the roots again.

Just like so many fishermen, they were waiting for a catch of even more big fish, but their waiting led them to disaster.

That day there had been no report of a change in the weather. Old Uncle Seven was leaning against the asphalt siding outside the shop, smoking. As he knocked out the bowl of his pipe he glanced at the sky and discovered a strange cloud formation. He immediately bounded inside and called to Cao Mang and his two sons to go out to sea to take out the seine net.

The net was soon almost all out and it still wasn't dark. but the sky to the northwest had grown so purple. As Old Uncle Seven looked at it his hands trembled slightly. Of course the last section of net couldn't be hauled out --- somehow the undertow had managed to shift the position of the well-secured roots and the foot of the net had caught on the jagged reefs! When Old Uncle Seven figured all of this out a cold sweat immediately broke over his face. He hesitated for awhile, then wiped the beads of sweat from his face and said: "Cut the net..."

To throw away half a length of net just didn't feel right! Cao Mang shook his head.

The dusk was beginning to fall. The two brothers said; "Mang, if we don't go now we'll run into the wind."

Cao Mang bit his lip as he fixed his stare on that stretch sea which had turned black. With a grim expression he said: "So let's run into it."

Old Uncle Seven leapt up furiously; "You blackguard, cut the net and let's get out of here!"

Cao Mang held his grim expression.

Old Uncle Seven shot a look to his two boys and they immediately grabbed Cao Mang by the waist and held him. Cao Mang gave an angry cry and spread open his legs, instantly casting the boys onto the deck. Then he turned and jumped into the water. After a long time his head appeared out of the water and he shouted: "My father died out here, right here on these jagged reefs!" When he was finished speaking his jet black hair flashed in the water and he disappeared.

Old Uncle Seven's to sons started to cry. Uncle Seven shouted: "Shut up!"

Afterwards Cao Mang showed his head above the water twice but he didn't get back aboard the boat. When he dove down under the water again a trail of blood appeared on the surface of the water. When Old Uncle Seven saw that he quickly jumped into the water.

The two brothers began shouting, their voices filled with utter terror.

After staying down for a time, Cao Mang floated back to the surface. His body was covered with cuts and the water around him immediately turned red. Old Uncle Seven also floated to the surface and grabbed hold of Cao Mang to pull him over to the boat. The two brothers and their father placed Cao Mang on the deck of the boat. There were so many cuts on his body they couldn't count them all. Some were deep and some more superficial, and they were still oozing blood. The brothers stretched out his bloodied legs and could see that one of his toes had been bitten off by something and on the soul of his foot was a deep, black hole.

Old Uncle Seven wept.

With a hoarse voice he shouted: "Cut the net! Let's get out of here!"

Cao Mang still wanted to clamber up. But he as he reached out his hand to try to take the knife from the two brothers he passed out.

The net was cut. The boat started back. Old Uncle Seven told his two sons: "The net as really was caught on the reef. The cuts on Cao Mang's body were opened up by the barnacles on the reef. He may have run into a shark as well..."

The dusk had come. Great swells appeared, one closely following the other.

Old Uncle Seven never stopped shouting at his sons, but the roar of the ocean drown out the sound of his voice. Suddenly it was as if the hull of the boat had fallen into a narrow alleyway. The walls were made of water; soft, terrifying walls which could collapse at any time. Their boat was struggling. They could hear the groaning sounds of its bones. After awhile they had no choice but to trail one of the drift nets out into the sea to stabilize the pitching boat...

On the shore, people lit a huge fire for them, and they could see the shadows moving about by the fire. The two brothers fought with the rudder. Old Uncle Seven shouted; "Keep your eyes up. Don't let the boat turn sideways and broach!:"

The big fire was only about half a mile away from them. The two brothers joyfully started crying out. But Old Uncle Seven lay motionless on the deck listening. When he heard a sound like; "Woo --- Boo!" he said in despair: "The onshore waves are 'hard chime breakers.' It's no good, we won't be able to get close to the shore!"...

V

Old Ge's illness had become more serious in the last few days. Everyone went to his little house and watched his laboured breathing. He didn't like people, but he no longer had the strength to chase them away.

That day around nightfall an unusually heavy wind had blown up, making the ocean roar especially loudly. People suddenly remembered Old Uncle Seven's boat and ran to the sea shore to watch for it.

Old Ge slipped into a deep sleep as he lay curled up in his room by himself. In his dreams he was fighting with an enormous shark. He won a difficult victory, losing a leg in the process. When he woke up he pulled hard on that leg, but no matter how hard he pulled, it wouldn't move. That leg was part of the half of his body that had not been affected by the stroke. He imagined that it was because the shark had bitten it off --- that vicious beast! He had pounded it into submission with his fists, shattering its skull! The old captain laboriously opened his mouth to breathe, and smiled to himself in the dark shadows.

He suddenly heard a strange sound. It was very loud and intermittent. For awhile he listened intently and what he heard was the thunder of the ocean. He said to himself; "The beast is angry again! It's howling again!" With all his strength he tried to get up, but just wasn't able to manage it. After failing down several times he was finally able to sit up ... The room was as empty as a tomb, everyone was gone. All of a sudden he remembered that they had been talking about the boat while they were there, then they all ran off together. Eventually he was able to make out the hoarse roar of the "hard chime breakers." He reached out and groped around for his walking stick. No sooner did he make a move than he fell heavily from the bed. Yet he still reached out and groped around again...

On the shore people were still throwing wood onto the fire. The sky was gradually beginning to lighten, but the boat had still not gotten near the shore. The men on the boat had struggled with all their strength all night long, and they could have been swallowed by the great breakers at any time. But they still wouldn't let the boat broach, nor would they let it get too close to the "hard chime breakers."---That kind of wave would toss the boat upwards, then cast it heavily back into the deepest trough between the waves. The people on the shore shouted to them. The chaotic sounds of their voices were filled with fear and concern.

In the meantime there was a dark figure moving ever so slowly towards the bonfire.

Because he moved so slowly it was daybreak by the time that he arrived at the fire. As soon as people saw him they were startled --- Old Captain Ge! A lot of people looked at him but couldn't believe their eyes. They took a couple of steps backwards and started to murmur in amazement. How could this man who had not long ago been lying on his bed gasping for breath have made his way to the beach all on his own!?

It was as if some divine force was helping him. For a time they all just gazed at him with eyes wide, but no one could speak. When he walked it, was truly a huge effort, with both hands clinging to the walking stick, he edged forward, little by little. His small yellow eyes were frighteningly bright, but he didn't look at anyone, fixing his eyes only on the ocean waves and the boat that struggled in their midst. When people went up and tried to hold him up he didn't budge. When they wanted to pull him along his sharp, commanding voice forced them to retreat.

"You! Ah, ah, oh ... cough! Cough, cough..."

The old captain began to shout orders towards the ocean, his voice was so loud it seemed as though it could not have been his own. His face flushed purplish red as his coat flapped open, allowing everyone to see his long, bright scar.

On the boat Old Uncle Seven shouted towards the shore: "Old Captain Ge ---- Old Captain---"

Old Ge started to bellow; his deep, dull voice sounded like claps of thunder. Several of the people standing around him stepped back in fear. He bellowed and raised his walking stick high into the air with both hands, then pulled it violently back towards his chest.

Old Uncle Seven saw this clearly from the boat'and he ordered his sons: "Pull up the drift net, pull it up onto the boat!"

Again Old Ge started bellowing and stamping his foot at the same time. With great effort he took the walking stick and put it to his head, then across his shoulders, and then pushed it forcefully forwards to the right.

On the boat Old Uncle Seven ordered his sons: "Quickly, turn the stern a little to the north, use the oar, hard!..."

Taking a half step to the west Old Captain Gs held the walking stick in both hands and poked it towards the west. As he shouted he leaned on the walking stick and inched laboriously to the west.

During this time everyone remained completely silent as they watched the old captain. None of them could understand what it was that he was shouting or what he was signaling. They just watched him fearfully and respectfully.

The boat moved towards the west, angling over the waves as it shifted forward with great difficulty.

People turned their backs on the old captain and walked to the west also.

When the boat got to the mouth of the Luqing River it stopped. At the mouth of the river the waves which rolled towards the shore didn't encounter the resistance of the shallows, and those "hard chime breakers" became much smaller! All of a sudden everyone understood everything.

Old Uncle Seven motioned to his sons and they rowed the boat with difficulty towards the shore. The boat was headed for the point at which the river and the ocean converged. Just as they approached a little closer, several strong men dashed in and helped them push the boat up onto the beach ...

Seeing that, Old Captain Ge let go of the black pepper walking stick and fell onto the bank of the river. Carrying the bloodied Cao Mang, Old Uncle Seven sank down beside the old man and called to him loudly. Everyone shouted: 'Captain" and "Uncle Ge"...The old man lay face up and kept his eyes tightly closed. When everyone crowded around him they could see all the scars, large and small, of all different colours.

The surf was roaring. Cao Mang opened his eyes. When he saw the old captain lying there, he climbed out of Old Uncle Seven's arms ... Eventually the old captain also opened his eyes. He placed his hand on Cao Mang's blood-drenched leg and murmured something in a very faint voice. Two crystalline tears flowed from the corners of Cao Mang's eyes. When Old Uncle Seven told the old captain about how Cao Mang had been injured the old man seemed to smile just slightly. He nodded at Cao Mang, then nodded again. Old Uncle Seven turned and said to Cao Mang;

"in the eyes of the Old Captain ... You are a man of iron..."

Cao Mang wiped away the tears. A light came on in his mind. It was suddenly as if he understood the old captain, and understood what he had said before.

He turned and looked for a long time at the Black Shark Sea ... He looked at the boat on the shore, that brand spanking new boat. No doubt it would be smashed to pieces by the ocean waves one day. No doubt --- Cao Mang thought --- there would be a second and a third boat!"

Old Uncle Seven carried Old Captain Ge on his back. He had his younger son carry Cao Mang and told his older son to take the old man's walking stick. Everyone else followed them as they walked on forwards.

January 1984, in Tan City

* Born in 1956 in the small seaside town of Longkou, Shangdong Province in Mainland China, Zhang Wei spent his early years in a forested area in Shangdong Province. Much under the influence of his family, he began writing at an early age. He published his long poem "Visiting the Bugler" when he was seventeen. In order to escape Ms family's political difficulties he left home to wander the Shandong peninsula alone for many years. In 1979 he was enrolled in the Chinese Department of Yantai Normal Institute of Shangdong Province to study creative writing. Since then he has published over seventy individual volumes of various kinds of writings, including novels, poems, prose, and essays. A conscientious and assiduous writer, Zhang Wei has shadings of strong romanticism and idealism in addition to a nearly mystical affection for nature.

In 1982 he won his first national literary prize. Since then he has been awarded more than thirty important national and international literary prizes. This has made him one of China's most influential and most prominent authors, In 1987, while serving as vice-chairman of the Shandong Writer's Association and vice-chairman ofthe United Youth Association, Zhang Wei was appointed vice-mayor of Longkou, the city of his birth. However, not long after that Zhang Wei left the position of his own accord, and moved to live in a small cottage on the outskirts of Longkou. He lived there with his aged mother for over five years. During that time he submerged himself primarily in writing September's Fable, a novel that has significant impact on the Chinese literary scene. Concentrating on writing, Zhang Wei has always been trying to avoid publicity and associations. He rarely makes public appearances. Among the heavyweight Chinese authors he is the one and perhaps the only "hermit."

But Zhang Wei has always been the focal point ofthe Chinese literary scene. Virtually every three or four years since 1984 the Chinese literary circle would have a round of discussion and debate over Zhang Wei and his writings. Given his importance, it would be hard to imagine contemporary Chinese literature without Zhang Wei.