Yu Yonghe

30-second overview: In 1697, a scholar from Hangzhou, Zhejiang, volunteered to cross the sea from Fujian to Taiwan to collect sulfur. He walked from Tainan to Beitou, traversing the entire western plain and passing through over a dozen Indigenous tribes. Nine months later he returned with the sulfur — and casually wrote a book that became the earliest classic documenting the human geography of northern Taiwan. That book was called Bihai Jiyou (Journey through the Marginal Sea).

During the Kangxi reign of the Qing dynasty, Taiwan was a place most Chinese officials wanted nothing to do with. Malaria, miasma, "savage headhunting" — just hearing about it was terrifying enough. Yet there was a scholar who not only volunteered to go, but wrote a travelogue along the way.

A Fire in the Gunpowder Depot

The story begins not in Taiwan, but in Fuzhou.

In the winter of 1696 (Kangxi 35), the Fuzhou gunpowder depot caught fire. Over 500,000 jin of sulfur and saltpeter burned completely — "not a single grain remained." Under Qing regulations, the custodians were required to make up the loss. Wang Zhongqian, the fifth-class subprefect of Fuzhou Prefecture who managed the depot, urgently needed large quantities of sulfur, but Fujian produced none locally.

The only sulfur deposits were in northern Taiwan, in a place called Beitou.

Nobody wanted to go. In the eyes of Fuzhou officialdom at the time, Taiwan was a place of exile, a wilderness, synonymous with "one-way trip."

At that moment, Wang Zhongqian's private secretary Yu Yonghe stepped forward: "I'll go."

A Hangzhou Scholar's Peculiar Passion

Yu Yonghe, courtesy name Canglang, was from Renhe County (in what is now northern Hangzhou), Zhejiang, born in 1645. His formal status was zhusheng (supplementary student) — a scholar who had passed the county-level examination but did not continue pursuing higher degrees. From 1691 onward, he served as a private secretary in the Fuzhou prefectural administration, handling documents and administrative affairs.

But Yu Yonghe had a passion quite rare among scholars of his era: he was obsessed with travel. During his time in Fujian, he had already toured every corner of the province. When he heard about the sulfur-collecting mission to Taiwan, others shook their heads in alarm — what he heard was "a free trip to explore Taiwan."

Crossing the Black Water Trench

In late January of 1697 (Kangxi 36), Yu Yonghe departed from Fuzhou, passing through Kinmen and Xiamen, then sailing across the Taiwan Strait.

The most perilous leg of this voyage was crossing the "Black Water Trench." In the middle of the Taiwan Strait lies a stretch of water that appears jet-black, with fierce currents and treacherous undertows — historically the most dreaded segment for anyone crossing to Taiwan. Yu Yonghe recorded his observations of this extraordinary passage in detail.

On the 25th day of the second month, the ship reached Anping in Tainan. But the shallow coastal waters prevented the ship from docking, so he had to disembark and switch to an ox cart, pulled by hand to finally reach shore.

Two Months at the Prefectural City

Upon arriving at the Tainan prefectural city, Yu Yonghe spent over two months preparing sulfur-collection tools and supplies. Total expenditure: 980 jin (taels of silver). During this period, everyone around him urged him not to go north personally. The northern route was long and remote, passing through undeveloped wilderness, with Indigenous tribes of uncertain friendliness, and malaria ready to take lives at any moment.

Yu Yonghe would not listen. He decided to split into two groups: his assistant Wang Yunsen would take the sea route by boat, carrying the heavy sulfur-collection equipment along the coast northward; Yu himself would travel overland by ox cart, heading north from the prefectural city.

The Great Western Traverse: Tainan to Tamsui

On the 7th day of the fourth month, Yu Yonghe set out from Tainan. The twenty-day journey that followed constitutes the most complete field record of Taiwan's western plain in 1697.

His route: crossing the Dazhou Creek, passing through Xingang Jialiowan, and Madou; then crossing Maogangwei Creek and Tiexianqiao Creek, passing through Daoluo; fording the Jishui Creek and Bazhang Creek at night, arriving at Zhuluo Mountain (present-day Chiayi); crossing the Niutiao Creek, passing through Damei, Talimu, and Chaili; fording the Huwei Creek, Xiluo Creek, and Dongluo Creek, passing through Dawujun, Banxian (present-day Changhua), Yashu, Dadu, Shalu, and Muma (present-day Qingshui); then passing through Dajia, Tunxiao, Xingangzai, Houlong, Zhonggang, Zhujia (present-day Hsinchu), Nankan (present-day Nankan), and Bajifen. At Bajifen he crossed the river by mangge (Indigenous dugout canoe, banka) to the opposite bank at Tamsui. From Tamsui he followed the river to Gandaomen (present-day Guandu), finally arriving at Masao Weng (in the area of present-day Tianmu and Beitou). On the 27th day of the fourth month, the twenty-day Great Western Traverse was complete.

Along the way, he recorded observations that are nothing short of stunning.

The eighty-to-ninety-li stretch from Zhujia to Nankan: "not a single person or house to be seen." Nearly all of northern Taiwan was uninhabited.

The scenery on the plain exceeded anything he could have imagined: "As far as the eye could see across the plain, nothing but lush grass. The tall growth covered one's head; the short growth hid one's shoulders. The ox cart moved through it as if traveling underground. Grass tips slashed faces and necks; mosquitoes and flies sucked at one's flesh like hungry eagles and starving tigers, swarming and impossible to drive away." The grass was taller than a person; the ox cart moved through it as if sinking underground. Mosquito and fly bites were as fierce as raptors descending on prey.

The lodging was even worse: "In the thatched hut, the walls and tiles were all made of straw; wind shot through from all four directions like arrows. Lying down, one could always see the sky. Grass grew on the bed — pull it out and it grew back immediately. When it rained, the interior was like a flood. The strumming of cicadas and the piping of earthworms bubbled ceaselessly beneath the bed." The thatched hut was open to the wind on all sides; lying down, one could see the sky directly. Grass grew on the bed, sprouting back as fast as it was pulled. When it rained, the interior was like a deluge. The sounds of cicadas and earthworms churned endlessly beneath the bed.

"Stepping outside, the grass reached one's shoulders, ancient trees twisted and tangled beyond description. Dense bamboo groves grew among them — one could not see an arm's length ahead." Outside, the grass rose to shoulder height; ancient trees coiled and knotted in indescribable ways; bamboo thickets were so dense that nothing could be seen even at close range.

This was Taiwan in 1697. Three hundred years before Taipei became one of the most prosperous cities in Asia.

Sulfur Collection at Beitou

After arriving at Tamsui, with the help of the interpreter Zhang Da, Yu Yonghe set up camp near the sulfur deposits and hired local Indigenous people to assist with sulfur collection.

The Beitou sulfur mining area is in what is today the Longfenggu area. Sulfur vapors rose from the ground, and the air was filled with the pungent smell of sulfur compounds. This area remains Taipei's most famous hot spring and geothermal zone to this day.

On the 2nd day of the fifth month, Yu Yonghe arrived at the upper reaches of the Beitou Sulfur Creek and officially began sulfur collection work.

Sulfur collection continued for several months. During this time, workers fell ill and died, supplies were scarce, and relations with Indigenous communities had to be carefully maintained. Yu Yonghe managed the sulfur operations while continuously recording everything he saw and heard.

After completing the sulfur refining work in 1697 (Kangxi 36), Yu Yonghe left Taiwan in November of the same year. On the return journey he encountered a typhoon; by his own account, he survived safely to Penghu only through the protection of the Water Immortal King (Shuixian Zunwang), and therefore made a special visit to the Penghu Shuixian Temple to pay his respects and give thanks.

"They Too Are Human"

Near Muma (present-day Qingshui), Yu Yonghe was trapped by days of continuous heavy rain. From inside his shelter, he saw the Indigenous people who had been pulling his cart and carrying his goods sleeping exposed in the mud and rain. Yu Yonghe could not bear it and told the interpreter they could be allowed to take shelter under the eaves. The interpreter replied: "It is the savages' custom to live this way."

In Bihai Jiyou, Yu Yonghe let out a deep sigh and wrote two words: "They too are human."

Those people are human beings too.

These three characters constitute the earliest recorded reflection by a Han Chinese person on the plight of Indigenous peoples. In 1697, in an era when the Qing Empire regarded Indigenous peoples as "beyond civilization," a Hangzhou scholar wrote these words.

The Mystery of Kangxi Taipei Lake

On clear days, Yu Yonghe would occasionally climb to high ground to take in the view. He saw a vast lake spreading out below the mountains. The Indigenous chieftain told him that the area had once been a settlement where people lived, but a great earthquake had caused the land to collapse and be submerged by water, forming the great lake.

Later scholars inferred from this that a major earthquake may have occurred in 1694 (three years before Yu Yonghe's arrival), causing the Taipei Basin to submerge and forming what is known as "Kangxi Taipei Lake." Yu Yonghe wrote at the time of the feeling that "seas change into mulberry fields" — the impermanence of the world.

This theory remains debated to this day. Proponents cite Yu Yonghe's descriptions and geological evidence; opponents argue it may have been a misunderstanding of the Tamsui River floodplain. Three hundred years later, that great lake dried up and became the Taipei we know today.

More Than a Travelogue

In 1698, Yu Yonghe wrote up his nine months of Taiwan experience as Bihai Jiyou (also known as Riji of Sulfur Collection), in three volumes: upper, middle, and lower. The upper volume records the sea journey from Fuzhou to Tainan, concluding with twelve Taiwan Zhuzhi Ci (Taiwan folk-style poems). The middle volume is divided into three sections: preparation of sulfur-collection materials, the Great Western Traverse, and sulfur collection at Beitou. The lower volume discourses broadly on Taiwan's mountains, rivers, customs, and folkways, concluding with twenty-four Tufan Zhuzhi Ci (Indigenous folk-style poems).

The value of this book far exceeds that of an ordinary travelogue.

Scholar Huang Wende has noted that Yu Yonghe "differed from traditional Chinese literati who blindly despised Indigenous peoples, or who treated the exotic customs of tribal peoples — different from Han culture — as objects of curiosity. Instead, he sincerely expressed a confession of the Han people's misunderstandings of Indigenous peoples." This was an extremely rare attitude among Qing dynasty intellectuals three hundred years ago.

His twenty-four Tufan Zhuzhi Ci, depicting Indigenous life, are not condescending records but observations carried out with curiosity and respect.

In addition to Bihai Jiyou, Yu Yonghe left behind works including Fanjing Buyi, Haishang Jilue, Wei Zheng Yishi, and Yu Nei Xingshi, but it is Bihai Jiyou that has had the most enduring influence.

Echoes Three Hundred Years Later

Today, you can find a commemorative stele for Bihai Jiyou at Longfenggu in Beitou. A ten-minute walk from where Yu Yonghe collected sulfur is the Beitou hot spring district. The sulfur vapors that caused him so much suffering three hundred years ago have become Taipei residents' weekend hot spring enjoyment.

The western traverse route he walked roughly follows today's Provincial Highway 1. The stretch from Zhujia to Nankan where "not a single person or house" could be seen is now the Hsinchu Science Park and Taoyuan International Airport. Where grass once grew taller than a person, TSMC's semiconductor fabrication plants now stand.

In 1979, writer Jiang Xun and Hansheng magazine planner Yao Mengjia, carrying Bihai Jiyou, retraced Yu Yonghe's entire route on the ground as part of a "National Tourism" feature. They followed the route in the book, station by station, bus by bus. Forty-eight years later, in 2026, Jiang Xun republished this record in commemoration of the thirtieth anniversary of Yao Mengjia's passing. Jiang Xun wrote: "Some of the spectacular scenes of sulfur valley eruptions still look remarkably similar to what Yu Yonghe saw three hundred years ago."

In 2001, Lu Chuanjie published the scholarly Bihai Jiyou: New Annotated Edition. In 2004, Yang Hezhi reinterpreted the original text as Encountering Taiwan Three Hundred Years Ago (Yuan Shen Publishing). In 2019, Xu Yizhen wrote the novel Kangxi Taipei Lake based on Yu Yonghe's story.

A Hangzhou scholar's nine-month Taiwan diary has become our most important window into understanding this island three hundred years ago.

✦ "From Zhujia to Nankan, eighty to ninety li, not a single person or house to be seen."

References

• Yu Yonghe — Wikipedia
• Bihai Jiyou — Wikipedia
• Song Zelai, "On Yu Yonghe's Bihai Jiyou and the Legendary Era in Taiwan Literary History," Taiwan Studies Newsletter, No. 1, October 2006
• Yang Hezhi, Encountering Taiwan Three Hundred Years Ago: Bihai Jiyou, Yuan Shen Publishing, 2004
• Lu Chuanjie, Bihai Jiyou: New Annotated Edition, Dadi Geographic Publishing, 2001
• Huang Wende, "Yu Yonghe's Bihai Jiyou: From Exploration of Taiwan's Nature and Culture to Identity Adjustment," National Library of Taiwan
• Yang Yunping, Figures in Taiwan History, Chengwen Books, 1981
• Jiang Xun, "Retracing: Yu Yonghe's Great Taiwan Traverse Three Hundred Years Ago," United Daily News supplement, January 30, 2026
• _Bihai Jiyou_ full text — Taiwan Literature Series, No. 44