For more than 2000 years, coastal trade in china has depended on a remarkable and pioneering type of ship, known to us as the junk. This working vessel follows a general design that’s been in use in Fujian for at least 600 years. Its bows take the form of a beak, with two large painted eyes, evoking the traditional seafarers’ belief that the bird’s image would help sailors return safely like the migrants that return each spring and autumn. Tea and other goods were stored in strong bulkhead, each waterproofed and separated from the next to minimize flood damage. This innovation, introduced to keep precious tea cargos dry, spurred on the improvement of not only Chinese boats, but western ones, too. The distinctive rigging of the junk’s sails allows easy handling in bad weather essential along this storm-battered coast.

Each year from July to November, up to a dozen typhoons, a corruption of the Chinese word for “great wind”, head northwest towards china. Typhoons are becoming more frequent as sea temperatures rise, aided by a global increase in greenhouse gases, such as carbon dioxide. But satellite pictures have revealed a surprising twist. It seems that typhoons can pull deep, nutrient-rich seawater up to the surface causing plankton blooms which in turn soak up large quantities of carbon dioxide.

When a typhoon strikes, one of the best places to be is Hong Kong harbor with its sheltered anchorage. A center of international trade, the city is famous for its jumble of skyscrapers and its bustling commercial center. But there’s a side to Hong Kong that’s less well known. Behind the urban sprawl lies a swathe of wet lands which include the Maipo nature reserve. Managed principally for the benefit of migrating birds, the reserve maintains a series of traditional prawn farms, known as gei wais, and their adjoining mangroves and mudflats. Every two weeks from November to march, one of the gei wais is drained by opening up the sluice gates. As the water level falls, birds begin to gather. Herons, egrets and cormorants mingle with a far rarer visitor, the black-faced spoonbill. These endangered migrants have travelled the length of the Chinese coastline from northern china and Korea. Mai po marks the end of a 2000 kilometer journey during which the birds may have lost up to a third of their body weight. 400 black-faced spoonbills, q quarter of the world’s population, pass the winter here. At low water, trapped shrimps and fish become easy prey, a life saver for these endangered birds.

The mai po marshes are part of the Pearl River estuary, whose muddy shores abound with crabs, worms and mud-skippers. Exposed at low tide, this smorgasbord of mud-life attracts both waders and the gei wai birds. Here on the mudflats of inner deep bay, each kind of bird has its own specific feeding zone defined by the depth of the water, the length of its beak and its feeding technique. Once refueled, they revel in synchronized aerial displays. More than any other place on china’s coastline, inner deep bay demonstrates that, with help, resilient nature can still thrive, even when boxed in and overshadowed by towering cities like Shenzhen.

Another successful example of man’s intervention on behalf of nature can be glimpsed in the waters around Lantau Island. When egrets make the most of an easy meal, other creatures have their eye on fishermen’s catch. Chinese white dolphins are estuary specialists. Found widely in the Indian and Pacific Ocean, this species is rare in china. The young are born dark grey and become spotted as adolescents, finally turning creamy white as adults, though on some occasions they may blush a delicate shade of pink. Three groups of dolphins live close to Lantau Island. As the tide comes in, they move with it to feed on small fish or squid which travel with the currents, using echolocation to see their prey through the murky water. They also use sound to communicate. But they face a deafening problem. The pearl estuary has become one of the busiest shipping channels in china, and the dolphins are constantly bombarded with sound. New research suggests that they may now pack more information into shorter calls in a bid to be heard. Local conservationists have now set up a protected zone near Lantau Island. So, for now, china’s white dolphins are holding on.

South of Hong Kong lies the south china sea, studded with more than 200 islands and reefs. Potential reserves of fish, oil and gas make each one strategic, and the whole region has become a political hot spot as territorial disputes simmer between its many neighboring countries. The water themselves are low in nutrients and would be poor in life if it wasn’t for the other resource that’s here in abundance. Sunlight. In the shallows of the coral atolls, small jellyfish point their tentacles towards the sun. Like many animals here, they depend on a close partnership with microscopic algae, which turn solar power into food. The most famous of these relationships is the reef-forming corals, which provide the foundation of the sea’s most dazzling ecosystem. Their branches provide shelter for a wealth of small and vulnerable creatures, many of them beautifully camouflaged. But the ultimate master of disguise has to be the octopus, able to change not only its shape and color, but its skin texture, too. Where the reefs meet deeper waters, upwelling currents carry nutrients to the surface. Reef fish swim out to gorge themselves on the resulting food, in turn attracting larger predatory fish to the reefs. Trevally prowl in dense packs. Giant rays sweep in on graceful wings to hover up the remaining plankton, which also attracts the king of fish. Growing up to 12 meters long, the whale shark is a gentle giant. And these days, a rare sighting. As sharks, small and large, are plundered to supply the East Asia shark meat trade, the fate of these fabulous creatures hangs in the balance.

While healthy coral reefs still survive in the remote islands, the situation close to the Chinese coast is quite different. The waters along the shores of Hainan, china’s largest tropical island, have been fished for thousands of years. As the reefs become less and less productive, fishermen from Tanmen harbor need all their resourcefulness to make a living. Dancing with death, they breathe air pumped through hose pipes in a desperate bid to catch the last remaining sea life. Over the years, increasedsedimentation and the use of dynamite and cyanide means the corals close to shore are barely hanging on. Recently the government has recognized that regulation is needed if the local fishery is to survive for the future. Fishing is now banned for two months of the year to allow marine life a chance to breed. One of the most important tropical habitats for young fish is mangrove swamps. In the last 40 years, 80 percent of china’s mangroves have bee n destroyed. But at the dongzhaigang mangrove reserve in Hainan, a remarkable conservation initiative is bringing young Chinese volunteers together to plant mangrove saplings in the glutinous mud. For many of these city-born students, such unglamorous work demonstrates their commitment to their country’s environment. Like other heavily populated countries, china today is faced with a challenge. How best to protect nature in an increasingly crowded space?

These wild macaques live on a tiny Hainan island reserve where they are carefully managed and looked after. Most of the island’s hillsides are covered with tropical woodland, but there are also areas of flower meadows where the monkeys gather to feed. Each morning, as the tropical sun heats their island, the macaques head down here in search of somewhere cooler. And what could be more refreshing than a dip in the pool? To the Chinese, combining a wild life reserve with a tourist development makes perfect commercial sense, and the monkeys don’t seem at all unhappy with the deal. The question is where to draw the line. Like the rest of the world, china is still feeling its way towards a harmonious relationship with nature.

600 years ago, the people who lived here carved this calligraphy in the rocks, announcing it to be “the end of the world”. In recent years that world has undergone massive expansion as tourists from all over china have discovered the delights of Hainan’s tropical seaside resorts. By 2010, china’s total tourism revenue is expected to hit 75 billion pounds a year. While insensitive development could destroy china’s natural environment, well-managed ecotourism could provide huge benefits for china’s wildlife.