They don't know exactly when that will be, but they'll know when it arrives. Our captain lays a serious cussing on him over the loudspeaker. In Chinese, but anyone can get the drift. The hydrofoil skipper backs off momentarily, then apparently decides that if that is as bad as it gets, he'll pass anyway. And off he zooms.
Helpers use long, steel-tipped bamboo poles to help push the sampans over the rapids.
At the hilltop road, the buses reserved for our ship aren't there. A Chinese tourism official shrugs. Another ship beat us to them. This is a city condemned to death by drowning. No one seems to care about anything.