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Chinese River Dwellings
From G.R.G. Worcester,
Junks and Sampans of the Yangtze.
Naval Institute Press, 1972
Be sure to look up Worcester's books The Floating Population of China
and The Junkman Smiles for more sketches and drawings and information
about Chinese shantyboat dwellers.
Kompo Floating Dwelling
The Kiangpei, or, more popularly, "Kompo floating dwellings," may be built
up on any type of junk or sampan which is past its normal work, they can
therefore be of any size. That illustrated in Plate No.32 measures 42 feet,
with a beam of 8 feet and a depth of 3-1/2 feet. The Kompo floating
dwellings may be described as the aristocrats of their class, for, although
the craft of the Yangtze are usually considerably larger, those of the
Whangpoo are more comfortable, and the style of living is better.
The element of overcrowding is, however, still present. Eight people in a
small floating dwelling is not uncommon; and usually there are many more,
including grandparents, father and mother, possibly an uncle and aunt and
two or three children, and almost invariably a baby. The latter is tied to
its mother's back. Pigs, dogs, and hens add congestion to the small
available space. How ever many children there are, all seem to be wanted,
for the parents fit them out with a sort of life-belt made from bamboo,
which is attached to any convenient hold-fast by a short piece of rope, so
that if a child falls overboard it can be readily hauled back. Some parents
add a bell to the life-saving device, which accelerates salvage operations
considerably.
Although the standard of cleanliness is, perforce, not high, the women on
board seem to spend most of their time washing clothes, since they can
obtain an unlimited supply of water from over the side, which is not often
the case on shore. These boats are not necessarily inhabited by junk folk,
but very often by ordinary working-class families who cannot afford to pay
the high rents obtaining ashore. Hardworking factory workers, rickshaw
coolies, and the like find peace- if not quiet--surrounded by their
families, who have probably been out all day on the equally tiring duty of
peddling small articles in the streets or rummaging in the rubbish heaps for
inconsiderable but welcome trifles. Much of the fuel for cooking is obtained
in this way. The cramped living quarters may be dark and dreary, but the
galley, or kitchen, the most important part of the boat, is kept bright, so
that, as it is said, the kitchen god may see the good points of the family.
The kitchen god, to whom an altar is dedicated above the stove, ascends
to heaven annually on the 24th day of the 12th moon to report on the
behaviour of the family. On this day he receives offerings of rice and
sweets to make his lips sticky and his mouth sweet so that he may be
prevented from repeating any of the bad deeds of the family.
The boat-houses of China are of very ancient origin. It is interesting to
note that the Dominican Friar John de Cora, writing about 1330, says:
A good half of the realm of Cathay and its territory is water. And on
these waters dwell great multitudes of people because of the vast
population that there is in the said realm. They build wooden houses
upon boats, and so their houses go up and down with the waters; and the
people go trafficking in their houses from one province to another;
whilst they dwell in these houses with all their families, with their
wives and children, and all their household utensils and necessities.
And so they live upon the waters all the days of their life . . .
And if you ask of these folk where they were born ? they can reply
nought else that they were born upon the waters, as I told you.
When their boats become unseaworthy they are still considered landworthy
and are transformed into houses by being set bodily upon four stones above
the reach of the water.
Flower Boat or Hua-Ch'uan
The hua-ch'uan, or flower boat, as it is locally termed, is designed for use
on the numerous waterways surrounding Chengtu, where, for the modest sum of
25 cents per person, the inhabitants can, in summer, temporarily escape the
heat of the town and enjoy the cool evening air afloat.
The boat as illustrated measures 37 feet and has an over-all beam of 9 feet.
There are six bulkheads arid four frames. It can accommodate nine passengers
on each side. As they sit on bamboo chairs, facing inboard, they can derive
little pleasure from the obstructed view, which in summer is further
screened by lowered bamboo blinds. All the boat is decked-in, with the
exception of the central portion contained within the deckhouse, which is
roofed with matting and has small railings on both sides. Outside these
railings runs a 1-foot wide projecting gunwale, which narrows to normal
proportions at bow and stern. This provides an uninterrupted gangway for the
crew, which consists of two men at the oars and a laodah-ticket-collector.
The small, after, built-up portion of the house is said to be for the use of
lady passengers.
The present hostilities [1930's Japan-China War] have provided a new use
for these craft. They have all been chartered by rich merchants for
transporting their families and valuables out of the danger zone during
air-raids. When the first alarm is given, these clumsy craft can be seen,
loaded to the gunwales, making for the safety of the outlying waterways and
canals.
Half Boat
Quite one of the most interesting types of floating dwelling is the
half-boat, illustrated [below]. This consists of a junk cut in two
athwartships, thus forming foundations for two separate dwellings. The trim
of the boat is adjusted by a careful distribution of the furniture, such as
kangs of water or large stones used in the usual hammering process so
indispensable in the washing of clothes.
In the smaller types such as this, it is astonishing how restricted an
amount of space is allowed for sleeping and living as compared with the area
devoted to the kitchen and its utensils; and, as may be expected, the larger
the floating dwelling, the more tubs, baskets, pots, and pans are in use,
out of all proportion to the needs of the family and its live stock.
The "house" selected for description here is about 21 feet long and is
more spacious and more luxurious than usual. The after-end contains two
bunks with a partition between (a privacy undreamt of in other dwellings),
and accommodates two families with their children.
When more children arrive, and/or poor relations have to be supported,
the floating dwelling can be extended by planking in the sides until the
whole boat is finally covered in. Alternatively, a flimsy stern gallery
extension may be built on to provide the extra space required.
The fore-deck is given up to cooking and living quarters for the live
stock. A hole is cut in one side of the house, and a straw hat tied at the
top with string may often act as a shutter to this improvised window.
Land taxes, high rents, and key money are evaded, and a scarcity of
dwellings is felt not at all.
There is one more type of half-boat which serves as a moral reminder to
those junkmen who have strayed from paths of rectitude. When a junk has been
caught by the Yangtze Water Police in illegal practices, such as slipping
past tax stations, smuggling, or other offences, it sometimes suffers the
extreme penalty, which is to be sawn in half and exposed, erected on end, on
the riverbank, where it serves as a mournful object lesson to others.
Foreign Boat
This shows a houseboat or cruiser built for a Westerner's use.
Tea House
FLOATING DWELLING AND TEA-HOUSES OF ICHANG
Ichang stands on a conglomerate rise which is only just above the average
high level of the river. In winter the long, low sandspit disclosed below by
the receding waters occupies nearly one-third of the river's breadth in
summer.
Colonies of matshed huts spring up on this extensive sandbank when it
appears; and rows of houseboats of all sizes and shapes tie up to the
mudbanks during the winter months, forming a migratory suburb of floating
villas. In common with those of the Upper Yangtze, which they closely
resemble, these consist of any condemned junk or sampan built up with every
sort, size, and description of wood in every sort of condition. As only the
comparatively rich can afford bits of packing cases, timber no longer
serviceable for junks is generally used. The wood is sometimes bought,
though much is often acquired. A neighbour's house may have caught fire and
may yield a plank or two. Floating wood from accidents to craft forms a
welcome windfall, for it is the unwritten law of the Yangtze that floating
wood is never returned to the owner if it can be avoided.
A favourite type of houseboat is a sampan with a patchwork dwelling
superimposed upon it, and in countless of these craft live many thousands of
Ichang residents who know no other home. Ducks, chickens, cats, dogs, and
pigs often live on board on terms of equality with the owners.
Actually this floating population is rather to be envied than pitied.
Instead of being condemned to the narrow restrictions of drab streets and
mean houses, they enjoy a roving life in the open air with constant
variations of scene. The question of water supply need present no problem,
neither need floods nor civil disasters concern them, for they may profit
from the former by collecting flotsam and can always remove themselves and
their property bodily from the vicinity of the latter.
Among the clusters of these humble homes, larger craft may be seen
towering above the others. These are the tea-house boats--the aristocrats of
the floating suburbia of Middle Yangtze River ports. On the arrival of a
river steamer these unwieldy craft make their way out from the shore under
crude oars, aided by poling, when shoal water permits, or even tracking up
the bank far ahead of all shipping in port. Then, leaving the shelter of the
riverbank, they sheer out into the swift current and progress with it
crab-wise down stream until, by a miracle of fine judgment and to the
accompaniment of a pandemonium of shouting and noise, they manageto secure a
hold to the steamer's stern. The tea-house bow being then almost alongside
the ship's fender, an easy access is assured to thirsty passengers when the
whole doorway across the bows is thrown open.
The floating tea-house selected for description here is known as the Tea
House of the Welcome Dragon (*). It is built up on a condemned Upper Yangtze
junk of the pao-wan-ch'uan type, which, for whatever reason, is much
in favour for the purpose. This specimen had, no doubt, served for many
years among the rapids and races of the gorges, but, despite this, was in
very fair condition.
It measures 52 feet, with a beam of 15 feet, and, as regards the hull,
presents no variation from the pao-wan-ch'uan in construction. The
superstructure, which projects laterally for 6 inches on either side over
the junk deck, is supported by crossbeams. About one-third of the
after-portion is completely built up to form a space for two quite roomy and
comfortable cabins for the owner and his large family.
The remaining part of the craft has breast-high bulwarks of irregular
planking along both sides terminating in a large entrance door right across
the bow. The whole junk is covered by a mat roof. In this semi-open cafe'
are distributed seven small tables, while close to the entrance on the
starboard side is a counter where the owner's wife sells cigarettes, sweets,
peanuts, and sunflower seed.
Behind the tea tables are a serving table a stove, and a water kang.
Before each customer is placed a covered bowl without handles, a few tea
leaves being sprinkled in the bottom. A servant then moves, swiftly and
inquisitively, from table to table, filling these bowls from a tin kettle of
boiling water with a spout over 2 feet long. From an elevation of about a
foot and at a distance of nearly a yard, he fills each bowl to the brim with
the greatest dexterity and without a drop going astray, and passes on to the
next table, moving nonchalantly among the crowded clients, who have such
faith in his skill that no one flinches when the formidable kettle is
balanced within a few inches of his shoulder.
The tea-bowls are filled and refilled. A very modest sum entitles a man
to stay all day if he should so desire. Deck-chairs are often provided as an
extra lure, and it sometimes happens that a floating-kitchen junk will tie
up alongside and serve ready cooked meals to hand up to the tea-drinking
clients in the teahouse. In the winter the sides of the boat are closed in
with bamboo matting to keep out the cold wind and the rain.
An additional source of income is provided by allowing passengers from
the overcrowded decks of the adjacent river steamer to lay out their rolls
of bedding on the floor of the floating tea-house and spend the night there
after the tea-drinking clients have gone.
However old and however rickety the craft may be, the visitor may always
count on his money's worth in welcome, warm weak tea, and the amusement to
be gained by watching unaffected human nature in the raw taking its ease.
COD 10/98
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