Ancient Ferry on the Guo River

Ancient Ferry on the Guo River

More than half a century has passed, yet the sights of the eastern ferry on the Guo River and the scenery along the river remain vivid in memory.

From Mengcheng’s North Main Street to the North City Gate, inside the ancient gate’s barbican, it was gloomy, with blackened walls often plastered with official notices. Over time, a thick layer of moldy residue remained on the walls, never cleaned, giving off a sour smell. Outside the city gate lay Shunhe Street, running east-west, lined with restaurants and cooked food stalls one after another; as pedestrians passed by, shopkeepers would shout to attract customers. These eateries catering to villagers offered steamed buns, congee, and bean sprouts—just a dozen or so copper coins could fill one’s stomach. Heading north from Shunhe Street and passing through the short Shixiang Street, you would arrive at the eastern ferry on the riverbank.

In the old days, the Guo River ferry had neither a bridge nor regular boats, but rather about seven or eight flat wooden boats. Lashed tightly together, they formed a pontoon bridge that spanned the river from north to south.

The pontoon bridge bustled with travelers coming and going—some empty-handed, others carrying loads on shoulder poles, baskets, or carts... men, women, old and young, all crossed on the swaying bridge, which added a unique charm to the experience. When a boat needed to pass, the bridge keeper would use a pole to push the central boats apart. The toll collector, holding a long pole with a small cloth bag attached, would extend it toward the passing boat. The boat’s captain would then drop two copper coins into the bag as river toll. Once the boat had passed, the pontoons would close again, allowing pedestrians to cross.

The north bank of the Guo River was home to a small street, lined mostly with dilapidated earthen houses with wide gates and courtyards—grain shops and horse stables among them. The spacious gates and courtyards allowed easy access for carts and livestock. Since carts couldn’t cross the river, they would all stay here. The main road from the north bank leading to Suzhou County had no cars in those days; merchants mostly traveled by horse-drawn carriage, reaching Suzhou in a day at the cost of two silver dollars per person.

Near the pontoon bridge, civilian boats were moored, their chimneys puffing out cooking smoke. Occasionally, fishing boats could be seen with cormorants perched on board, stretching their necks and looking around, occasionally letting out a cry that drew onlookers. Every summer, groups of mischievous children would swim and splash around the bridge, their laughter mingling with the sounds of water. Weeds grew thick along the riverbanks, and local residents often used poles to pull them together into large bundles before hauling them ashore to feed their pigs.

Back then, the Guo River was unpolluted, its waters clear and the riverside scenery picturesque. For just over a dozen copper coins, one could take a civilian boat to Xiaojian or even further east to Shuangjian. If you walked eastward along the southern bank, you’d reach Shaguo Garden in about two li, where for just a few copper coins, you could feast on fruit to your heart’s content. Standing on the riverbank, you could see white sails dotting the water while barefooted boat trackers pulled long ropes, trudging laboriously forward. The boat captains would occasionally let out hoarse calls to summon the wind. Continuing eastward along the river, villages stood close together amid shady trees. In spring, peach and plum blossoms bloomed; in summer and autumn, fruit hung heavy on the branches. The calls of cuckoos, orioles, and cicadas filled the air. The sandy riverbanks were mostly covered with melon fields, where watermelons the size of a dou (an ancient measure) lay invitingly in the fields.

As time passed and the world changed, the ancient ferry has now become a relic of history.