Wan’an Jiulong Shiba Tan

　　In ancient times, merchants, exiles, and demoted officials traveling to Guangdong had to sail up the Gan River, passing through Meiguan to enter the Lingnan region. The Eighteen Shoals of the Gan River became a treacherous route and also a scenic wonder. Many notable figures who passed through left behind poems and writings. Su Shi wrote: “A man with two streaks of white hair, seven thousand li from home, drifts like a lone leaf amid the Eighteen Shoals. The hills remind me of joyful times, stirring dreams from afar; the name ‘Huangkong’ (Fearful Rapid) brings tears to this lonely official.” Wen Tianxiang left behind his timeless verse: “Speaking of fear at Fearful Shoal, lamenting solitude in the Desolate Ocean. Since ancient times, who can escape death? Let me leave a loyal heart to shine in the annals of history.”

　　Ancient texts recorded the dangers of the Eighteen Shoals. One piece, titled “Record of Rocks in the Water,” described the shoal rocks: “There are many rocks shaped like oxen, dogs, horses, dragons, and snakes—some fierce as if ready to fly or run, others like monkeys raising or crouching their arms, some squatting as if crying—all stirring up waves heard for miles. … Boats passing here cannot help but be shaken; any slight misstep risks being shattered by the rocks.” “The roaring noise of the shoals is like thunder, jagged rocks block the way; travelers all say the path is perilous, but who urged you to come here?”

　　As a child, I heard a folk tale about the Eighteen Shoals: Long, long ago, a deity wanted to build a city in Ganzhou but found no suitable stones nearby, so they had to be transported from far away. Finding the stones too heavy to move, the deity turned them into a herd of pigs and had them walk south along the riverbank. Along the way, the deity noticed some pigs were missing and asked a woman washing clothes by the river, “Auntie, have you seen my black pigs?” The woman, head bowed over her washing, replied, “Just now, I saw a few rocks roll into the water.” Little did she know, this mortal remark had unraveled the deity’s secret. All the pigs immediately turned back into stones and became the Eighteen Shoals of the Gan River.

　　After hearing this story, I longed to witness the dangers of the Eighteen Shoals. In the winter of 1951, during my first rural assignment in southern Jiangxi, I was stationed in Dahuhujiang, Gan County—right in the area of the Eighteen Shoals. I remember upon arriving in the village, locals told me that grain boats had hit reefs and sunk in the river, and many men had gone to rescue the cargo. At the time, I didn’t know these reefs were part of the Eighteen Shoals. Later, as I got to know the locals better, I learned that many of the men earned their living on the water, with quite a few working as river guides (known as tan shi). Whenever a boat approached the rapids, it would pull ashore to hire a tan shi to board and navigate. These guides knew every hidden underwater reef like the back of their hand and could navigate through danger unscathed. But during storms with high winds and rough waves, even the tan shi dared not risk passage—they would drop anchor and wait until the waters calmed before attempting the shoals.

　　Though I often traveled along the riverbanks back then, viewing the shoals from shore was like seeing flowers through fog—not very clear. Once, setting off from Ganzhou by boat to Wan’an during the dry season when the shoal rocks were fully exposed, and with guidance from the tan shi and boatmen, I finally got a true glimpse of the Eighteen Shoals.

　　The boat first passed Ba Jian Tan (White Brook Shoal), which was just an ordinary sandbar with no real danger. Then came Bie Tan (Turtle Shoal), where jagged rocks lay scattered like countless giant turtles lurking beneath the surface, stretching endlessly, though the channel remained safe without obvious threat. I thought the dangers of the shoals couldn’t be more than this, but the boatman laughed and said, “We’re just getting started!” Sure enough, before reaching Jie Ping, I saw huge rocks in the water interlocking like fangs. The wooden boat carefully navigated through gaps between “Human Head Rock” and “Tiger Neck Rock.” By then, I was starting to feel nervous, but this was just the overture. After passing Jie Ping and arriving at Tian Zhu Tan (Pillar Shoal), three stone peaks lay hidden in the middle of the current. The channel was narrow, the water rapid, and waves surged like mountains. The small boat had to gauge the wind direction, study the currents, and watch out for submerged reefs. Just after avoiding one pillar, it almost collided with another. With a sharp turn of the rudder by the boatman and a timely prod of the pole by the tan shi, we narrowly avoided disaster. After three consecutive close calls, we finally escaped the clutches of Tian Zhu Tan. I broke into a sweat, and the tan shi and boatman let out a sigh of relief.

　　Next, we passed through Cha Hu Tan (Teapot Shoal), Xiao Hu Tan (Small Lake Shoal), and Gou Jiao Tan (Dog’s Leg Shoal)—none of which were very dangerous. But upon reaching Da Hu Tan (Big Lake Shoal), massive rocks lay across the channel like people lying in wait, blocking the route. This was the famous Shi Ren Ba (Stone Man Barrier). During the dry season, large boats couldn’t get through and had to be ferried across using smaller boats—a process called ban ba. We were in a small boat and barely scraped the bottom to get through. Then came Luo Ta, Tong Pen, and Qing Zhou Shoals. Upon reaching Liang Kou Tan (Good Mouth Shoal), we entered Wan’an County. There, submerged trough rocks lay like turtles resting on the water’s edge. Then, after passing Kun Lun and Xiao Tan, we reached Wu Suo Tan (Fishing Net Shoal), where there were the dangerous “Monkey Rock” and “Facing Fish Rock.” After that came Ang Chu Tan (Startled Shoal). Then came Xiao Liao and Da Liao (Small and Large Reeds), where the seabed was dotted with reefs, crisscrossing like a jigsaw. Xiao Liao was likened to the “Nine Palaces and Eight Trigrams,” while Da Liao resembled a “carpenter’s square and weighing rod.” The small boat felt as if it had entered a disorienting underwater maze or was weaving through a forest of blades. Next came Mian Jin and Piao Shen Shoals, and finally, the last one—Huangkong Tan (Fearful Shoal). “Speaking of fear at Fearful Shoal,” the very name of the shoal instilled dread and fear. If the wind picked up at this point and the waters grew rough, boats dared not pass and had to pull ashore and wait. After a long wait with no calming of the winds, I learned we were not far from Wan’an City and had no choice but to disembark and walk. It was a near miss—I had hoped to witness the scene described as “swift as an arrow, boiling with fury,” but it wasn’t to be.

　　Isn’t the journey of life much like Jiulong Shiba Tan? With hidden reefs and lurking dangers.

　　After officially being transferred to work in southern Jiangxi in 1954, I longed to revisit the area but never had the chance. It wasn’t until after the Cultural Revolution that a film editor from Pearl River Studios came to southern Jiangxi to collect material. A group of literary friends and I took a tugboat from a timber depot specifically to see the Eighteen Shoals. Passing through Chutan at the confluence of the Zhang and Gong Rivers, we floated downstream. The waters were clear, the breeze gentle, the waves calm—but alas, the reefs were there with no danger. The boatman explained that after years of dredging and clearing by the navigation authorities, those once terrifying and obstructive reefs had been blasted away. The hundred-mile-long Eighteen Shoals waterway was now equipped with navigational markers, making the entire Gan River—a thousand li in length—an open thoroughfare. Even ships of a hundred tons could pass through unimpeded, no longer requiring tan shi for guidance.

　　Back in the 1940s when I was in school, I read in the newspapers about a TVA-style project in Jiangxi designed by Americans. It was touted as an unprecedented, grandiose engineering feat—intended to dam the Gan River and build a hydroelectric station right at the location of the Eighteen Shoals. But there was only thunder and no rain; reportedly, it was because the cost was too high. This project that the people of Jiangxi had hoped for half a century finally came to fruition during the reform and opening-up era. The Wan’an Hydropower Station was built on the solid foundation of Huangkong Tan. What was once a place of dread and terror now shines brightly, benefiting the people.

　　The hidden reefs and dangerous rocks of the Eighteen Shoals have long been buried deep under the water. The sights of the Gan River’s Eighteen Shoals have become a piece of history—lost without a trace, impossible to revive. All that remains are the poems and writings of figures throughout history and the folk tales passed down through generations.