novelslam Chapter 55 Review
Chapter 55 Review
On the day of Frost's Descent, fog rolled in on Moon Island.
The fog rolled in from the sea, gray and hazy, shrouding the stone troughs, boat rafts, and loquat trees.
Old Fang squatted at the workshop entrance, striking a match. The wind was weaker than usual, and he lit the first one.
He put a cigarette in his mouth and glanced at the row of wooden fishing boats that had just been brought up by the stone trough.
The longest seam on the bottom of the boat was already laid on the raft, the bottom of the boat facing the sky, the water stains had not yet dried, and it gleamed with a dark brown light in the mist.
This boat was towed over from Hongjia Island by the boat owner, Hong, the day before yesterday.
The ship is over 15 years old, and the main seam on the bottom of the ship runs from the bow all the way to near the stern.
The line followed the keel and curved for nearly a foot, with two turns close to the old ribs, just like the old boats that Qiu Changhai usually practiced on.
The kitchen light was on; Lin Xiu'e had gotten up earlier than usual.
She prepared the tung oil putty she would need for today last night.
The lime was sieved three times, and the tung oil ratio was adjusted according to the Frost's Descent solar term. Because the oil was thick in the cold weather, I added a little more than half a spoonful.
She took the basin of tung oil putty off the windowsill and lifted the damp cloth to check the humidity.
He covered it again, placed it next to the stone trough, and put it in a spot that Qiu Changhai could easily reach while working.
Three basins of tung oil putty were placed side by side on a stone block, covered with a damp cloth. Next to them was a roll of pre-torn hemp fibers, of uniform thickness, also covered with a damp cloth.
Qiu Changhai walked out of the asbestos-roofed shed, slowly, step by step.
Today he changed into a clean Zhongshan suit, the gray cloth faded from washing, and in his pocket was a fountain pen that hadn't been used much. It was bought for him by Lin Xiu'e when he filled out the intangible cultural heritage application form last year, and the label on the pen cap was still fresh.
The walnut in my hand wasn't turned, I was just holding it tightly.
He walked to the stone trough, stood in front of the sampan that had been set up, and instead of grabbing his tools, he first ran his fingers along the main seam at the bottom of the boat.
He paused when he reached the bend, shone his flashlight on the crack to check its direction, and confirmed that it was unchanged from the day before. Then he withdrew his hand from the crack.
"The stitching on the bottom of this ship is the same as the first few steel-hulled ships he worked on in the factory when he was young. They all have keel bends and the bends are close to the old ribs."
Old Fang squatted at the workshop entrance, stubbed out his cigarette, and watched Qiu Changhai's back.
He told Jiang Haiping that if Lao Qiu could fix this seam properly, then whenever anyone in the province asked about the standards for seam fixing, they could just send a picture of this boat.
Jiang Haiping stood at the workshop entrance with a jar of boiling water in his hand. The steam from the jar dissipated quickly in the morning mist.
Lin Xiu'e poked her head out of the kitchen, wiped her hands with her apron, and watched Qiu Changhai take out chisels one by one.
She didn't go over, but just stood at the door of the kitchen and watched for a while.
Then she turned around and took the steamer off the stove. The expert team was coming today, so she steamed a basket of red bean buns and a basket of radish and dried shrimp buns. The red beans had been soaked last night, and the red bean paste was soft.
The expert team arrived in the morning.
The ferry docked at the pier, and Wang Cunzhi met the people at the pier, leading the three of them along the rocky beach.
The leader was Engineer Zhou, from the Provincial Ship Inspection Bureau, who was carrying a black briefcase.
Two unfamiliar faces followed behind, one a woman in her early forties wearing glasses, who was an intangible cultural heritage protection specialist from the provincial cultural bureau.
The other was an elderly man who looked like a fisherman, over seventy years old, with a slightly hunched back. He wasn't holding any walnuts, but an old chisel with a handle that was worn shiny.
He is Master Chen from Zhoushan, an old tailor specially invited from Zhoushan by the province. He has been doing this job for most of his life.
Old Fang went up to Master Chen and offered him a cigarette, but Master Chen waved his hand and said he didn't want one. He then turned around and saw Qiu Changhai squatting by the stone trough. The two looked at each other, and Master Chen nodded. Qiu Changhai also nodded, but neither of them said anything.
The review was conducted at the stone trough.
A-Guang placed the registration book, the physical verification list, and the lineage chart on the long table at the entrance of the workshop, with each document arranged according to its number.
Engineer Zhou walked to the long table, picked up the physical verification list, scanned it, and randomly selected three boats: Old Sun's sampan, Old Zhou's sampan, and the keel seam of the boat that Hong Chuandong sank and salvaged two years ago.
The stitching records for these three boats span from the first to the sixth register. The earliest one was stitched by Qiu Changhai many years ago, and the most recent one was stitched by Lin Xiu'e.
Mr. Zhou handed the list to the female clerk and said that they should go to the dock to see the three ships first.
Ahai led the way, and two of the three boats were moored at the dock.
On a boat raft anchored on the mudflats, the expert team squatted at the bottom of the boat, shining flashlights on the seams and running their fingers along the seams. After they finished looking at the seams, the female specialist put a checkmark next to each item on the list.
After the artwork was verified, we returned to the stone trough, and the on-site skill demonstration began.
Engineer Zhou spread the scoring criteria on the table, and Master Chen sat down on the stone stool by the stone trough, placing the old chisel in his hand on his knees.
Qiu Changhai stood up and picked up the first chisel from the stone block.
He didn't rush to make a cut. First, he ran his fingers along the crack and then drew a line on each side of the crack with a stone pencil.
Then pick up the chisel, wed the blade on the dividing line between the rotten wood and the good board, and strike the first blow.
With a soft thud, a piece of rotten wood peeled off along the grain, leaving a clean cut.
Master Chen's eyes never left Qiu Changhai's hand.
He wasn't staring at the groove, but at the arc of his wrist twisting.
The corner is right next to the old rib; if the chisel is angled in too much, it will damage the bone; if it's angled in too little, the rotten wood won't be cleaned properly.
Qiu Changhai switched his usual chisel to his left hand, and with his right hand, he took out the old narrow-bladed chisel from his tool bag, wedging the blade at the bend.
With a gentle twist of his wrist, the hammer struck, and the rotten wood peeled off completely from the bend, the cut smooth and without a single burr.
Master Chen moved the old chisel on his lap, tapping the handle twice with his fingers.
After the groove is cut, the new board is installed.
The new board was prepared in advance by Lin Xiu'e. The size was measured three times with calipers and it fit perfectly.
Qiu Changhai took the hemp fibers, tore them evenly, stuffed them one by one into the gaps, and tamped them down with a blunt chisel.
Then, he picked up the first basin of tung oil putty from the stone block, scooped a clump with his finger, smeared it on the hemp fibers, and smoothed it out.
After finishing the entire stitch, he stood up, supported his back, and slowly straightened up, taking a step back to look at his work.
Master Chen stood up, walked to the side of the boat, squatted down, and ran his fingers along the seams from the bow to the stern. He paused for a moment at the bend before continuing to run his fingers down.
After feeling the entire seam, he stood up, put the chisel back in his tool bag, and said to Engineer Zhou, "This skill is up to standard."
The presentation of the lineage inheritance was held last.
Zhou opened the genealogy chart and started asking about his grandmaster, Master Chen, then about the third generation, Qiu Changhai, then about the fourth generation, Master Song and Lin Xiue, and finally about the fifth generation, Xiao Zhou.
When asked about his apprenticeship, Qiu Changhai said that he had taken on six apprentices. The first five changed careers or went south, and the fifth and sixth apprentices are still at the service station. The fifth generation has also started working independently.
Today, he sewed the seam, and he did the grouting and paneling all by himself, but his apprentice and his apprentice's apprentice were the ones handing him the chisel, mixing the tung oil putty, and preparing the new panels.
Zhou Gong closed the genealogy chart, and the female commissioner put Qiu Changhai's successor application materials and the three scores for this review into the file bag.
Master Chen picked up the old chisel on his knee again and showed it to Qiu Changhai. The chisel blade was half short, but the part of the handle inlaid with copper wire still tightly held the old traces of tung oil putty.
Qiu Changhai took it, examined it for a while, and then handed it back. The two veteran craftsmen exchanged a glance, and neither of them said any more polite words.
After the expert team left, Qiu Changhai put the old chisel he had exchanged with Master Chen into his tool bag, and then took the two walnuts out of his pocket and placed them on the stone block.
He stood by the boat raft for a while, running his fingers over the seam he had just finished sizing to make sure the tung oil putty had been evenly absorbed into the hemp fibers, before slowly walking toward the shed.
The loquat leaves rustled in the afternoon breeze, and the broken seashells around the area were still wet, from the water that A-Guang had just used to water the plants that morning.
There are still a few boats waiting to be sewn together tomorrow.