Off the Beaten Track: Diving China’s Underwater Lion City in Qian Dao Lake

In his second article in his series on unusual dive destinations and challenging journeys, Don Silcock thought he’d share the story of his attempt to go diving in Qian Dao Lake, China. Photographs by Don Silcock

The year was 2008 -my first in what became a two-year assignment based in Shanghai, a megacity whose population exceeds that of Australia. I’d been travelling to China for six years by then, usually three or four times a year, and thought I’d gained a reasonable understanding of the country. Three months of actually living there proved me completely wrong…

Determined to see beyond the neon sprawl of the big cities, I decided to head off-piste into rural China. That was easier said than done. My Mandarin was basic, translation apps didn’t yet exist, and English was virtually unheard of outside the main centres. Still, while exploring my options, I stumbled across what was then Shanghai’s only dive shop -Big Blue Diving.

Scuba Diving, Chinese Style

In 2008, Shanghai’s new middle class was just beginning to embrace adventure sports, but diving presented a problem as there was almost nowhere to dive locally.

The nearby coastline was badly polluted, so most shops focused on training and selling gear to customers who could afford to travel abroad. Big Blue, however, had discovered a rare inland option – Qian Dao Lake (Thousand Island Lake) – a vast, scenic reservoir about five hours southwest of Shanghai in Zhejiang Province. Even better, it hid a submerged 1,800-year-old city beneath its surface.

The Lost City

Qian Dao Lake was created in 1959 when a dam project flooded the valley, displacing some 290,000 residents, many of which were descended from the founders of Lion City, an ancient settlement now resting 30m-40m underwater. Decades later, Chinese television rediscovered it with sonar while filming a documentary on lost treasures. Divers who followed found intact walls and buildings from the Ming and Qing dynasties, preserved in remarkable condition.

Big Blue had photographs from their exploration dives, though they warned visibility was poor and the water cold.

Undeterred, I signed up for the next trip, packed my drysuit and camera gear (brought up from Sydney) and boarded the Big Blue bus one Friday evening in September for a weekend of adventure.

Into the hills

Leaving Shanghai at rush hour was predictably painful, but after several hours and a stop for beer and snacks near Hangzhou, we reached the edge of the Qian Dao National Park around midnight. Five hours of sleep later, we were up again for a local breakfast and a ferry ride across the lake.

The ferry journey itself was stunning as Qian Dao is a maze of more than 1,000 forested islands rising from the water. Our one-star hotel on the far side (the best in town, apparently) served as basecamp while we sorted our dive gear.

Descent into darkness

The ‘dive boats’ were local fishing vessels hired for the weekend – at grossly inflated prices, thanks to basic economics. The rest of the group were doing training dives near shore, while our small team, led by Leigh Chan from Big Blue, headed out to the coordinates of Lion City.

Out on the lake, the water was glassy calm and silent. After a briefing and a warning about poor visibility, we rolled in and began our descent. At 10m, it went dark; at 20m, I couldn’t read my gauges. A few seconds later, I hit bottom — a deep layer of soft silt. My buddies were gone, and I was suddenly very aware of being alone, blind, and far from any help. Fumbling in the darkness, I managed to turn on one of my strobes and hold it close enough to read my depth – 28m. What I should have done was take a photo to commemorate the moment, but survival instinct had completely overridden artistic curiosity.

The Lost City (Almost)

I surfaced safely and did two more dives that day. On the final attempt, paired with a female Canadian diver who wisely suggested holding hands, we followed a compass bearing toward the city. After several minutes of finning through near-zero visibility, we literally bumped into a brick wall and then a corner. Following it, we realised we might actually be inside a structure. That was enough excitement for both of us.

We carefully ascended, relieved to find no roof overhead, and surfaced with a shared sense of accomplishment and closure… Back on the boat, the mystery of the poor visibility was solved when local fishermen told us the large vessel in the distance was a dredger stirring up the lake bottom. No wonder we couldn’t see a thing.

Candlelight and warm beer

While the diving was more memorable than enjoyable, the evening that followed was pure rural China. Power cuts are common in that area as electricity is often redirected to Shanghai and Hangzhou, so our hotel was pitch black on arrival. To our surprise, the kitchen still managed to serve an excellent multi-course meal by candlelight, cooked over charcoal braziers. The only drawback was the warm beer, which somehow tasted better with each round.

The Qian Dao trip remains one of the most-unusual diving experiences I’ve ever had — part-adventure, part-cultural immersion, and part-comedy of errors. Would I do it again? Absolutely, but only after confirming that the dredger has taken the weekend off. n

About the author

Don is Scuba Diver’s Senior Travel Editor and is based on Bali in Indonesia. His website has extensive location guides, articles and images on some of the best diving locations in the Indo-Pacific region and ‘big animal’ experiences globally. He is also a SEACAM Ambassador and the Operations Manager at Papua Diving’s Raja Ampat SEACAM Centre.

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