Life of Being a Crown Prince in France-Chapter 756 - 664 Racing Competition

Chapter 756: Chapter 664: Racing Competition

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

Chapter 756: Chapter 664: Racing Competition

The world’s first functional steam wheeler, Boloskafi, belched ink-like black smoke from its chimney. The body of the ship quivered slightly and the massive wooden wheels on its sides began to spin faster, striking the waters of the Seine River with a rhythmic “smack smack” sound.

This ship was vastly different from Geoffrey’s initial design.

The lines of the ship’s body had been refined to enhance stability and reduce drag. The boiler and transmission systems had undergone significant optimization, boosting effective power by as much as 20%. The cargo hold and cockpit, among other internal structures, had been redesigned from scratch. Under the pretext of ensuring strength, maximum space utilization had been achieved.

No matter how talented civilian designers were, they couldn’t match the engineering capabilities of a military system backed by national machinery.

The latter only needed a spark of brilliance from the former.

Once they had that spark, they could quickly produce extremely sophisticated industrial products.

After sailing around in a circle on the river to showcase its elegant demeanor, Boloskafi returned to dock beside the pier.

Joseph and more than a dozen attendants boarded via a gangplank. Behind him, many nobles, excited and curious, followed onto Boloskafi.

Indeed, how could Joseph, deeply aware of the importance of publicity, miss such a rare opportunity as the steamboat’s maiden voyage?

The scent of success must be shared with the world quickly so that people would rush to contribute their money.

Soon, the paddle wheels of Boloskafi spun again, heading to the center of the river before an extremely long banner, amidst the cheers of the onlookers.

Already anchored there were seventeen or eighteen boats of various sizes, including sailboats and purely rowing boats.

Emblazoned on the banner, as wide as half the river, were the words—First Seine River Cargo Ship Speed Race.

This competition, hosted by the Palace of Versailles, boasted a grand prize of 30,000 francs and had attracted nearly all boat owners from across France. Of course, most boats had been eliminated in the preliminary rounds, and those present were well-known figures in the shipping industry.

Hundreds of journalists from different countries had also arrived. They had hired a multitude of carriages and gathered on the shore, ready to cover the event from start to finish.

The ships of this era, even steamboats, weren’t as fast as horses.

On the foredeck of Boloskafi, Joseph raised a pistol and pulled the trigger.

A loud “bang” echoed over the river, sending all participating boat owners into a frenzy, their eyes red with excitement as they shouted at their crews to push forward.

Each boat carried 20 tons of cargo and more than 50 passengers, and the winner—first to reach Le Havre and return to Paris—would take home the entire 30,000 francs.

Five or six smaller sailing boats sped off, leaving all competitors behind and soon disappearing from view.

On Boloskafi, Joseph watched various trash float by on either side of the ship, resisting the urge to cover his nose, especially since many nobles and journalists were gathered around.

Despite the “Beautiful Paris” campaign’s efforts over the past few years, which greatly improved the hygiene of the Seine River, the smell was still pungent enough to sting the eyes while on the water.

Well, even until the 21st century, this issue had not been resolved…

Joseph took a perfume-soaked handkerchief from Camellia, covered his mouth and nose, and kept thinking: Once this race is over, the European inland shipping market will belong to steam wheelers. Also, the fines for “dumping sewage into the Seine” must be doubled!

Until they left the vicinity of Paris, crowds of people lined both banks of the Seine River, waving and cheering continuously.

This race even had betting involved. The odds for “Silver Eel” were 1 to 15, and for “Boloskafi,” they were 1 to 3.5, which was not low at all.

In fact, almost no one bet on “Boloskafi” to win.

Therefore, Joseph estimated that not only would this race not require any funding, but it would also net them around one hundred thousand.

The foul odor over the river finally began to fade, and Joseph used binoculars to look ahead and behind; “Boloskafi” was basically in the middle position.

He guessed that reporters were probably already writing drafts of news articles about “steamboats being useless.”

However, as the competing boats approached Vernon—a small town over 70 kilometers from Paris—the few that had been in the lead began to slow down.

These small boats had initially kept the lead by rowers rowing desperately; by this time, the rowers were almost completely exhausted.

Afterward, several larger sailing ships, along with “Boloskafi,” became the leading group.

Another four hours passed, and the steam paddle boat emotionlessly maintained a speed of 8.5 knots, leaving all competitors behind.

Only “Mountain Treasure,” “Seven Birds,” and three other sailing ships had barely managed to keep up after entering Normandy by sparing no expense and replacing all their rowers.

Camellia was very diligent, running back and forth between the deck and the captain’s quarters, reporting the latest status of the ship to the Crown Prince, and occasionally she even went down to the second lower cabin to bring coffee to poor Perna and to comfort her for a while.

Yes, Perna had also come along, still severely seasick. She herself did not know, but perhaps subconsciously, she was hoping to receive the Crown Prince’s meticulous care like last time when they went to North Africa.

At 6 p.m., “Boloskafi” passed by Rouen, and no other competing boats were visible on the river.

Not surprisingly, under windless conditions, the steam-powered boat was invincible.

Joseph, surrounded by a multitude of nobles, headed to the ship’s restaurant to attend the dinner.

The Maid was busy in the kitchen confirming the dishes; if the ship’s chefs were not up to par, she would have to cook herself. The most important task given to her by the Queen was to ensure the Crown Prince’s meals were well taken care of.

What she did not know was that, at that moment, in a corner of the cabin, a pair of resentful eyes was watching her.

If Camellia saw the face beneath that pink broad-brimmed hat, she might have remembered the name Amari Herrio, that noble lady who had competed with her for the ‘true love coupon’ at Notre Dame de Paris.

“Austrian bitch!” Herrio bit fiercely on her teeth.

Previously extremely proud, born in the Palace of Versailles, naturally beautiful, coming from a family of nobles with two hundred years of history, and with a very wealthy father, everyone around her had always greeted her with a smile.

Yet, that Austrian woman in front of her was far more beautiful, from a wealthier family, and even serving by the Crown Prince’s side.

After returning from Notre Dame de Paris that day, she had been a lot more sullen.

And today, she had pulled many strings and spent a huge sum of money just to get the opportunity to be on the same boat as the Crown Prince, only to see that woman again!

She felt a spasming pain in her chest.