CHINA: Yo Ho Ho!

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As a cool moon shone through the clouds, a British steamer, the Wing Sang, slid comfortably through the calm waters of Formosa Strait. She was on her regular run from Hong Kong to Formosa. The ship's 78 passengers were dressing for dinner or sipping cocktails. A Chinese lad of ten raced wide-eyed through the closing pages of Treasure Island.

The purser was just reaching for a brandy and soda when he heard a sound like firecrackers exploding. A 120-ft. ship, bristling with guns, had slipped out of the darkness and was raking the Wing Sang with bullets. "Pirates!" someone cried. Captain Ronald G. Stanton ordered full speed ahead, but when the pirate ship pumped shells into the Wing Sang from two Oerlikon guns, he saw that he could not get away.

More, Please. Instead of boarding their prize in Treasure Island style, the pirates ordered the Wing Sang's skipper aboard their ship. He was greeted by a raffish crew of about 70 young Chinese in faded khaki and peaked military caps, and with Colt revolvers, Mauser automatics and bandoleers. Their leader, a slim, handsome man whose badge of office appeared to be a pair of brown leather gloves, made a short speech. Money, said he. Stanton was ordered to send his lifeboat back to the Wing Sang, to pick up $10.000 in ransom, and a passenger or two as hostages.

The lifeboat came back with about $1,100 (raised by passing the hat among the passengers), and with one of the Wing Sang's three American passengers: Edward Stansbury, deputy chief of the U.S. Information Service on Formosa. In the gleam of a flashlight, the pirates counted the money and grumbled that it was not enough. Back went the lifeboat for more, and returned with approximately $2,100.

Their leader made another speech. "Gold," he demanded. "The only damned gold we have is my watch," Captain Stanton snapped, ripping it off his wrist and handing it over. The pirate chief ordered two of the crewmen who had accompanied Stanton to hand over their wristwatches too.

"Anything But Sinister." For three hours the pirates haggled with Stanton and Stansbury. "They all looked intelligent, anything but sinister," Stansbury reported later. "That was what made them so sinister." Finally the pirates allowed their hostages to return to the Wing Sang, and faded into the darkness.

Next day the Wing Sang arrived at Formosa, with a few shell holes in her hull, and two casualties—a Chinese crewman who had been wounded in the knee by a pirate bullet, and the ten-year-old reader of Treasure Island, who had become violently sick at his stomach from seeing the real thing. The Wing Sang's agents, Jardine, Matheson & Co., Ltd., promised to repay the passengers who had chipped in ransom money. British, U.S. and Chinese Nationalist ships kept a lookout for a handsome buccaneer, wearing brown leather gloves and a gold wristwatch, who made short speeches.