FUZHOU, Feb. 3 (Xinhua) — Dressed in bulky diving equipment and surrounded by the steady hum of his gear, Chen Hao descends slowly into the deep blue, guided by a rope. The water around him is thick with silt, and visibility fades as he moves downward with careful precision.
Then his hand touches wood — a ship’s plank that has remained undisturbed for hundreds of years. Above him is the open sea; before him is a tangible link to the past.
For nearly 20 years, Chen has been making such dives. Now in his early fifties, he serves as deputy head of the underwater archaeology center at the Fujian provincial research institute of archaeology in eastern China. He is among the few Chinese archaeologists who still spend a large portion of the year working beneath the sea.
From northern waters to China’s southernmost seas, Chen’s dives trace routes once sailed by merchant vessels along the ancient Maritime Silk Road.
Broad-shouldered and weathered by sun and salt, Chen appears shaped as much by the ocean as by academic life. During winter, when rough seas make diving unsafe, he shifts his focus to land-based work — organizing survey data and preparing for future missions, including an upcoming joint underwater archaeology project in South Africa. Even when he cannot dive, the sea remains central to his work.
“I’d rather be out at sea than sitting behind a desk,” Chen said. “That’s where history reveals itself.”
Before becoming an underwater archaeologist, Chen held a stable office job. In 2005, while working at the Fujian Museum, he was assigned to observe the excavation of the Wanjiao No. 1 shipwreck — a Qing Dynasty (1644–1911) merchant ship discovered near Pingtan County.
“Divers brought up hundreds of porcelain pieces every day,” he recalled. “The ship carried tens of thousands of blue-and-white ceramics, preserved so well that everyone was amazed.” Soon afterward, Chen left his office position and committed himself fully to underwater archaeology.
The shift required both physical strength and determination. In 2009, at age 35 — just meeting the age limit — Chen joined the fifth national underwater archaeology training program. He was the oldest participant and served as class monitor. Over three months, trainees earned more than a dozen professional diving certifications before heading straight into fieldwork at submerged sites.
“You’d fall asleep the moment you hit the bed,” Chen said. “But the excitement of working with relics on the seabed kept us going.” Of that original group, fewer than five are still actively working underwater today.
Danger has always been part of the job. While diving near Wenzhou in Zhejiang Province, Chen once worked in near-total darkness, unable to read his compass or wrist computer. He relied entirely on touch, experience and instinct.
Near Fujian’s Shengbeiyu islet, strong tidal currents repeatedly pulled him away from target areas, leaving his legs numb from exhaustion. After returning to the deck, he sometimes lay motionless for over an hour to recover. Those demanding dives eventually helped the team pinpoint the location of a Yuan Dynasty (1271–1368) shipwreck.
The waters off Pingtan have posed the greatest challenge. Winds at force six or higher batter the area for more than 300 days a year. Reefs are densely packed, currents constantly shift, and survey vessels often strike submerged rocks. Despite these hazards, the area was historically a major shipping route. For centuries, countless vessels passed through — many of which sank — leaving one of China’s richest underwater archaeological zones.
The search for shipwrecks often begins with local fishermen. Chen spends long periods along the coast listening to their accounts. “Fishermen understand the sea better than anyone,” he said. “When they sense something unusual below, it can lead us to important discoveries.”
Looting is another serious threat. Entire sites can be destroyed in days, wiping out centuries of historical evidence. For Chen, protecting sites comes before excavation. His institute works closely with the coast guard, police and fisheries authorities, setting up round-the-clock monitoring and regular patrols in key areas.
Over the years, Chen has seen major technological advances. Early equipment was heavy and inefficient, increasing risk and limiting productivity. Today, divers rely on real-time navigation and communication systems, while sonar and imaging technologies allow wrecks to be located with far greater accuracy.
Even so, recovery requires extreme care. Materials such as ropes, bamboo fragments and hull fillings can disintegrate at the slightest touch after centuries underwater. Chen’s team uses specially adapted pneumatic tools to gently remove sediment and stabilizes fragile items with epoxy resin before bringing them to the surface.
Several discoveries have marked key moments in Chen’s career. Sites he helped locate and excavate have yielded major breakthroughs, including the first physical evidence of long-lost navigational tools preserved underwater, the best-preserved mid-Ming Dynasty (1368–1644) merchant ship found in coastal waters, and a Yuan Dynasty vessel containing an exceptional collection of Longquan celadon that earned national recognition.
The demands of the job have affected family life. Long assignments at sea have left most household responsibilities to his wife, and Chen has missed birthdays and family illnesses. “My family’s understanding and support are what allow me to continue,” he said.
Today, Chen divides his time between leading dives and training the next generation of underwater archaeologists, often serving as an instructor in national programs. The field remains small in China, with only a few dozen active specialists nationwide. “Fujian’s vast underwater heritage will depend on those who follow,” he said.
Chen has no plans to step away. “Every dive is a dialogue with history,” he said. “Every excavation adds a new chapter to human civilization.” As long as he is able, he will continue descending into the depths, bringing hidden history back into the light.
