Log of the Big Eyed Chicken

We start at dawn on our trip north to the Grand Canal; the Hong Kong Peninsula rises from the early morning China sea. It is a scene from a painting: the hills peek out of the swirling gray mist like dragon's teeth. Soft pastel colors surround us, the brown sails of the junks, the water calm and reflective.

As we head toward the open sea, we face a stream of boats of every shape and size headed into the harbor. In places, the channel between the entrance islands is narrow, and I steer the da ya ji to the edge to avoid the onrush of traffic. We pass the last harbor buoy and enter open water, leaving behind the maze of small, peaked isles and the hustle bustle of Hong Kong.

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