novelAbuy Chapter 114 The Classroom in the South Pacific
Chapter 114 The Classroom in the South Pacific
On November 7, 1909, fifty nautical miles off the coast of Valparaiso, Chile.
Lin Hai stood on the bridge of the "Guangfu" ship, watching two gray warships turning in formation in the distance. Those were the "Admiral Cochrane" class ships recently received by the Chilean Navy—internally known in Lanfang as the "Chilean-type Dreadnought" (the Dreadnought class).
"Instructor Lin," said Chilean Navy Commander Arturo Flores, a fifty-year-old, dark-skinned career soldier, "How are my lads doing?"
Lin Hai raised his binoculars, carefully observing the turning maneuvers of the two ships. The angle of their tilt, the arc of their wakes, the speed at which they regained their formation after the turn…
"The turning was too abrupt." He lowered his binoculars. "Your Excellency, your captains are still operating the new ships with the mindset of pre-dreadnoughts. They're afraid of sharp turns, afraid of capsizing. But in reality, the stability design of these two ships can withstand a 28-degree heel, while they only dared to reduce it to a maximum of 15 degrees just now."
Flores frowned: "But during the Cochrane's sea trials last week, a crew member was injured while listing at 18 degrees."
"Because the crew didn't secure themselves properly." Lin Hai turned to the intercom and ordered, "Signal to the Chilean fleet: Conduct an emergency turn drill. Angle 25 degrees, speed 18 knots. All deck personnel are required to move to safe positions."
The signalman quickly operated the light signal. A few minutes later, two ships in the distance began to accelerate, their bows cleaving through the deep blue waters of the South Pacific, creating white walls of waves.
Then, almost simultaneously, both ships began to turn hard to port.
The immense inertia caused the 20,000-ton ship to tilt violently. From the "Kuangfu" ship, the two ships looked as if they were about to capsize, with the starboard side raised high and the port side almost submerged in the water.
Flores gripped the railing, his knuckles turning white.
But the ships did not capsize. After tilting to their maximum angle, they began to slowly right themselves. After the turn was completed, the two ships changed course by 90 degrees, maintaining their formation almost perfectly.
"See that?" Lin Hai said. "A 25-degree list, completely within the safe range. The new warship's center of gravity has been precisely calculated; unless it encounters extreme sea conditions, it's impossible for it to capsize."
Flores released his grip, his palms sweaty. He stared at the two ships, now stable, for a long time, then turned to Lin Hai: "Instructor Lin, how old are you?"
"Twenty-seven years old."
"Twenty-seven years old..." Flores murmured. "When I was your age, I was still commanding an 800-ton frigate. And you, you're already teaching our entire navy how to fight."
"I'm just teaching the techniques, Your Excellency," Lin Hai said modestly. "The tactical application is something your navy will need to figure out on its own."
"No," Flores shook his head. "You taught more than just techniques. Last week's map work, with your proposed 'high-speed incursion-torpedo strike-disengage' tactic, completely overturned our traditional thinking on line-of-battle engagements. That's not just technique; that's... a new generation of naval warfare thinking."
Lin Hai did not deny it. Over the past six months, he had led twenty Lanfang instructors in providing comprehensive training to the Chilean Navy. This ranged from basic boiler operation to complex fire control calculations and entirely new tactical concepts. This was part of the contract—Lanfang not only sold the ships but also included the training.
"Commander," Lin Hai said, "the core of modern naval warfare has changed. In the past, it was a battle of giant ships and guns, and whoever had the thickest armor won. But now, speed, fire control accuracy, and tactical maneuverability—these softer indicators are more important than simple firepower and armor."
He pointed to the Chilean warships regrouping in the distance:
"These two ships have a speed of 23 knots, which is 2 knots faster than the British warships that Argentina might buy. What does that 2 knots mean tactically? It means you can choose the time and distance of engagement. You can fight when you want and retreat when you want. The Argentinians can only react passively."
Flores' eyes lit up. He completely understood the logic—the arms race between Chile and Argentina had lasted for thirty years, and now, for the first time, they possessed a qualitative advantage.
"So, Instructor Lin," he asked the question that concerned him most, "if we were to engage the Argentine navy now, what would our chances of winning be?"
Lin Hai did not answer immediately. He went into the chart room, spread out the South Pacific chart, and pointed to several locations with his finger:
"Your Excellency, naval warfare is not simply a matter of comparing numbers. It requires considering the sea area, weather, intelligence, morale... But if we only look at the hardware, I can provide you with an analysis."
He picked up the drawing ruler:
"According to intelligence, the Argentine Navy's current main force consists of two Moreno-class pre-Dreadnought battleships, built in 1902. They have 305mm main guns, but only four. Their thickest armor is 230mm. Their speed is 18 knots. And one Dreadnought-class battleship!"
"And our two ships," Lin Hai circled the insignia representing the Chilean fleet, "have 8 main guns of 305mm each. The thickest armor is 280mm. The speed is 23 knots. The firepower of a single ship is twice that of the enemy, the protection is 20% stronger, and the speed is 27% faster."
He raised his head:
"Theoretically, one Cochrane-class destroyer can take on two Moreno-class destroyers. But in actual combat, I would advise against taking such a risk. The best tactic is to use speed to divide the enemy fleet and create local numerical superiority."
Flores listened intently, like a student listening to a teacher. This veteran, who had commanded the Chilean Navy for fifteen years, displayed rare humility in front of a twenty-seven-year-old.
"Instructor Lin, does your Lanfang Navy... really know how to use these tactics?"
"We conduct drills every day," Lin Hai said. "But Lanfang's hypothetical enemy is different. Our adversary may have more and stronger warships, so we emphasize system-of-systems warfare, reconnaissance and intelligence, and preemptive strikes."
"A preemptive strike..." Flores repeated the word, "like what you did in Java?"
Lin Hai smiled and said, "That was a diplomatic operation, Commander. I was referring to the purely military aspect."
The two returned to the bridge. At this time, the Chilean fleet had completed all the scheduled training exercises and was approaching the "Revival" to conduct the final joint exercise—the "Revival" playing the role of the hypothetical enemy.
"Commander," Lin Hai said before the exercise began, "I have one last piece of advice for you."
"Speaking."
"Don't just focus on Argentina." Lin Hai looked eastward, towards the long coastline of South America. "Brazil, Peru, and even the United States to the north could all become influencing factors in the future. Chile needs to build a broader naval diplomacy, not just prepare for war."
"Is this how you at Lanfang?"
"We had no choice but to do this," Lin Hai said. "Because we are far from our homeland and isolated. Every warship we sell is not just a transaction, but also a potential friend, or at least... not an enemy."
Flores gave Lin Hai a deep look. In that moment, he understood that this young man was teaching not only naval warfare techniques, but also the wisdom of a small country surviving between powerful nations.
The signal lights are flashing; the drill has begun.
The "Kuangfu" cut in at 22 knots, taking up the T-shaped bow position—the ideal firing position. The two Chilean ships quickly spread out, attempting to flank the enemy. But the "Kuangfu" was too fast, easily maintaining its advantageous position.
"If they are truly the enemy," Lin Hai explained, "we can open fire now. Your ship's turning speed is insufficient to shake them off."
"What should we do then?"
"Predict in advance and take proactive measures." Lin Hai ordered, and the "Guangfu" slowed down to create an opening.
The two Chilean ships seized the opportunity, passed through the gap, and thus gained a favorable position.
"See?" Lin Hai said, "Naval warfare is like playing chess. You can't just think about your own moves; you have to anticipate your opponent's moves. Sometimes, taking a step back is to advance two steps."
The exercise lasted two hours. By the time it ended, the sun was already setting, and the surface of the South Pacific was gilded with gold. The three giant ships sailed side by side, leaving long trails behind them like three white ribbons.
"Instructor Lin," Flores said as he took his leave, "the Chilean Navy will never forget Lan Fang's help. If one day you need a friend, you have one in the South Pacific."
"Thank you, Commander." Lin Hai saluted. "Please also give my regards to Commissioner Silva. I hope he likes the box of tea we sent."
Flores laughed: "He loves it. Now he drinks Chinese tea every afternoon, saying it's more elegant than coffee."
The two shook hands and said goodbye. Lin Hai returned to the "Guangfu" by transport boat, while the Chilean fleet turned back to Valparaiso.
Standing on the deck of the "Restoration" warship, watching the Chilean warship sail away, Lin Hai felt a complex mix of emotions. He was proud to have taught another country's navy how to operate the warships built by Lanfang. But deep down, he knew these warships might be used for war, for killing.
This is reality. Lanfang needs money, friends, and international space. And arms sales are the fastest way to achieve these goals.
He recalled Chen Feng's words at his farewell: "We don't sell tools for killing, but the power to protect ourselves. As for how our clients use them... we can only hope they use them for self-defense, not aggression."
hope.
In the world of 1909, this was probably the most fragile thing.
"Captain," the navigator approached, "what's the next course?"
"Back to Dubai," Lin Hai said. "Training mission complete."
"Yes. Heading 030, speed 18 knots. Expected arrival in twenty-five days."
Lin Hai nodded, taking one last look at the sunset over the South Pacific. The enormous red sun was sinking below the horizon, turning the sky and sea blood-red.
He turned and walked onto the bridge.
The bow of the ship cut through the waves, pointing north, towards the Persian Gulf, towards the new home built in the desert.
There, new orders are already waiting.