HONG KONG, Sept. 14 (Xinhua) -- As the sun sets over Victoria Harbour, Hong Kong's iconic skyline comes alive with a golden glow. Skyscrapers twinkle along the shore, and a vibrant red Chinese wooden junk glides gracefully across the water, etching its image into the city's memory for countless visitors.

"Stepping onto this slow-moving junk amidst Hong Kong's high-rises is like experiencing a harmonious blend of modern allure and traditional charm," said Gu Jianing, a tourist from Shanghai, watching as the Cheung Po Tsai, or the Aqua Luna I, cut through the waves.

The junk, an iconic sight in Hong Kong, with its towering wooden framework and three vivid red sails that gleam under the sunlight of Victoria Harbour, has become one of the city's most recognizable symbols.

Featured prominently on postcards, vintage travel posters, T-shirts, and ceramics, and even serving as the logo of the Hong Kong Tourism Board, it encapsulates the unique character of the city.

Every day, it ferries visitors across the harbor multiple times, offering a tangible connection to Hong Kong's distinct charm and maritime heritage.

The Aqua Luna junk is a painstakingly hand-crafted creation by Au Sai-kit, the third-generation owner of Hong Kong's Kwong Ming Shipyard, and his father. Tucked away in A Kung Ngam, Shau Kei Wan in the Eastern District of Hong Kong Island, the shipyard is a two-story tin-roofed building with a green sign reading "Kwong Ming Shipyard." Its dimly lit first floor, filled with wood and tools, leads to a small outdoor pier where the Aqua Luna, usually plying the waters of Victoria Harbour, was moored for routine maintenance on the day of the interview.

Au opened a delicate wooden box for reporters and carefully unfurled a roll of parchment paper: the original blueprint for the Aqua Luna, marked with precise numbers and diagrams.

The Aqua Luna was born in 2006, at a crucial juncture for the shipyard, which was then grappling with a decline in orders. "A client approached us through a contact, wanting a commercial junk -- one so complex that few in the industry dared to take on the project," Au recalled. Even he and his father, both seasoned craftsmen, hesitated upon seeing the design.

With three tall masts and billowing sails, the Aqua Luna was unlike any commercial vessel they had ever built. Au explained that wooden junks are more stable in rough seas and stay cooler in summer compared to steel or fiberglass ships. However, crafting them requires extreme precision. "A 0.5-centimeter error could cause planks to misfit or, worse, lead to leaks," he said.

"It was the largest commercial junk I'd ever built," Au noted. Motivated by the thought "better to try than close down," they spent nine months constructing it. What began as a last-ditch effort to save the shipyard has now become Au's source of pride. "Watching this iconic Chinese junk carry tourists from around the world to explore Hong Kong fills me with a deep sense of pride," he said.

Hong Kong, surrounded by the sea, has emerged as a major Asian trading hub, and the bustling waters of Victoria Harbour once sustained a thriving shipbuilding industry.

Kwong Ming Shipyard was established in the 1950s by Au's maternal grandfather and later taken over by his father, Au Wai. Au Sai-kit started learning the trade at the age of 13, gaining experience through various tasks and apprenticeship rather than formal "hands-on" lessons.

"I once tried to cut corners on a complex step, only to have to start all over again," Au said. "Building ships is like life: you have to proceed step by step."

The 1980s were the shipyard's heyday. "We had six to seven in-house staff and 30 to 40 hired workers to handle orders," he remembered. The shipyard built 50-60 percent of Hong Kong's commercial vessels, transporting tourists, residents, and workers, including the shuttle boats for the renowned Jumbo Kingdom, one of the world's largest floating restaurants.

But fortunes shifted. As lighter ships gained popularity, traditional hand-crafted wooden junks, burdened by high material costs, gradually faded from the scene. The three-generation-old shipyard shifted its focus from building ships to repairing them and cleaning hulls.

Now in his 60s, Au is among Hong Kong's younger master shipbuilders. Crafting a luxury junk, he said, is a labor of love, but "I'll keep going for as long as I can." In recent years, groups have visited the yard, and Au has shared stories of Chinese junk-making, hoping to kindle young people's interest in this traditional craft.

He led reporters to the shipyard's second floor, which has been his home for 35 years. The space also serves as his "private museum," filled with junk models, including a replica of the Aqua Luna I.

"Chinese junks are the most beautiful," Au said, his face beaming with hope as he eagerly anticipated a chance to showcase Hong Kong's craftsmanship, and to see more Chinese junks sail Victoria Harbour's waters. ■