The Star Ferry

Originally written February 21, 2007

From the westernized business district of Central to the burnt out badlands of Tsim Sha Tsui, it connects our people, from the island to the mainland. Hundreds of times a day the double decker steam engine travels across Victoria Harbor. Like clockwork, she splits through the same waves and always leaves the same wake in her path. The dock across the harbor awaits her arrival.

Her destination is always the same. We’ve have always been here, waiting for you to come ashore.

Sensory overload. Above you a skyline, a majestic view of the island side of the harbor. The ferry pushes on across the waves. The symphony of lights they would call it, as the towers and rooftops of the skyline shine bright into the night sky, and the lights dance like wonders before us. On the Kowloon side of the bay, silhouettes of junk boats anchored in the harbor, shooting off fireworks into the night sky, celebrating whatever holiday happens to fall on this particular night.

I say to myself as my ship comes crashing into the wakes of others, this is our life. We would call this our home. The lights, the fireworks, the most beautiful skyline in the world contrast against the mountains of the island, this was where we made our stand, if only for a moment. We had found our home, and never would it be this way again.