The White Cargo Act and Ah Sin ( )

Fog entry, catch scallop queen, Philip Conney, master. Position, 123 degrees, 12 minutes west, 38 degrees, 15 minutes north.

Gyro compass course, 168. Wind fresh, sky fair. Remarks, departed, Jensen, China, 230 AM. Sailing delayed 12 hours due to imprisonment of officers and crew. Reason for imprisonment, the White Cargo Act and our sin. It was a few hours after a searing sunrise that I noticed the water over the side losing its clearness as it filled with the yellow mud of the Hano River, sweeping out from the troubled

valleys of Inner Mongolia. The Scarlet Queen limped into the current under power again, rudderless, bullet scarred and carrying in her whole $10,000 worth of gin sangrups, the cargo that had been the cause of all her wounds.

I had my personal troubles too, based on the same thing, two passengers, one wrapped in sailcloth dead from a bullet through his brain. The other, the woman who killed it. As we passed over the bar at Taku and flung up the Hanhō toward Tian-sen, the stream was jammed from bank to bank with the traffic of Chinese rivers, junk,

barges and refuse. Curious dark eyes swept as we passed. Naked girl babies were held up to the setters and jabbered percals were thrown when we shook our heads. And we inched up against the wash and flow of China.

In spite of her slow-living progress through the rabble of rivercraft, the queen did her best to live up to her name. The scallest figure under her bow spread swung heartily across the stern of a fish barge.

A swell lifted her nose as she turned disdainfully away from her. But after she was secured to a dock, she seemed to lean wierly against the rope fenders we hung over the side for. Her crew was tired too.