After being used by man for hundreds of thousands of years, many of the natural resources found on land are facing exhaustion. In the future, people will increasingly look to the sea for food, mineral and power sources, and even living space. Along with computers, biotechnology, and space technology, the ocean was named by Alvin Toffler in his book The Third Wave as being an integral part of the new frontier facing man. At Keelung, the National Taiwan College of Marine Science and Technology is making sure that Taiwan will have a role in this new age.

The CMST generally cuts a low profile. Many people believe its graduates go on to being ship captains and fishermen, but the truth is somewhat more complex. Some students admit to being embarrassed by such characterizations, but College President Jeng Sen-shyong chooses to ignore outside opinions, preferring his school to be good rather than famous. CMST has twelve departments and four graduate schools. Graduates, which include President Jeng, can be found in prominent positions in Taiwan's shipping, fishing, and food industries.

While the average citizen may know little about CMST, many government agencies are well aware of its capabilities, and the school regularly contracts assignments with public organs. In 1985, for example, CMST is undertaking 51 research projects from outside, amounting to over NT$20 million (US$500,000). Such work provides invaluable experience for teachers and students and allows the school to procure equipment which otherwise might be unobtainable.

CMST began its life as the Taiwan Provincial Junior College of Marine and Oceanic Technology in 1953. With a total area of less than 14,300 square feet, it looked "more like a junior high school than a college," leaving many students disappointed. In 1957 city and school officials reached an agreement where landfill created by the city's garbage would be considered school property. After holding classes for several years amid foul odors and pests, CMST now measures over 30 odor-free hectares, with plenty of housing construction well underway. School officials express confidence about the future, projecting maximum enrollment at 5000, beyond which they fear standards would suffer.

The school opened in 1953 with three departments: navigation, fishing, and marine engineering, with an emphasis on practical skills. Later as the island's economy and exports began to grow, courses were added in naval architecture, shipping and transportation management, and harbor and river engineering. In 1964, when the school's name was changed to the Taiwan Provincial College of Marine and Oceanic Technology, departments of Oceanography and Aquaculture were created, along with graduate schools in Fisheries, Marine Law, Marine Food Science, and Harbor and River Engineering. To meet the growing trend of automation on ships, an electrical engineering department was also established.

In 1979, the school became the National Taiwan College of Marine Science and Technology. Economic recession and automation had decreased the need for sailors while raising the demand for highly skilled personnel. Wage increases also made ROC nationals more expensive to hire than their counterparts from the Philippines, Indonesia, and mainland China. The government responded by adding two departments, the Department of Nautical Technology and the Department of Marine Engineering Technology. The departments offered two-year programs for junior college graduates who had working experience at sea.

The name changes also reflect a broadening of the school's focus. Some students, owing to reasons of health or temperament, are ill-fitted for a life abroad ship and are better suited for positions ashore in shipping management. Because of this factor and the need to match the industry's growing sophistication, the school offers courses in freight transportation, international trade, harbor regulations, maritime law, and marine insurance along with the traditional fare of astronomy and electronic navigation. According to one school official, "The students should be able to do everything but have children." Motorists along the coast road sometimes may see students in boats near the school wharf. They are not there for love of the sea but for lifesaving classes.

Engineering students tend to be quieter than those in the Marine Transportation Department, which produces a more heroic sort, but the ship engineer's position still commands enormous respect. The captain is master on deck, responsible for matters of administration and management. Below decks, however, is the domain of the ship engineer, who ensures that the ship runs as it should. Along with repair and maintenance, engineering students are taught design and manufacturing. The school boasts a factory of discarded but usable ship machinery for the students to practice what they have learned and design the aquatic factories of tomorrow.

The Republic of China had planned in the 1970s to expand its shipbuilding industry on a major scale, but the energy crisis and the general industry-wide slump narrowed the once-promising opportunities for engineering graduates. Naval architecture remains, however, the second most popular department, behind electronic engineering, and school officials are sanguine about the future. They cite the obsolescence of Taiwan's fishing fleet (only 20% of all ships are made of fiberglass) and the island's flourishing yacht industry, which exports annually US$100 million of boats. Other alternatives for graduates lie in the defense industry.

Besides being an avenue of transportation and shipping, the sea is also a store of natural resources, of which fish perhaps first come to mind. In the past women were definitely not welcome on fishing boats, but the school has its share of female students, and the situation has changed. Explains one professor, "Before fishermen depended on luck, and if the catch was poor, they could blame many factors, women being one of them. Fishing today has become scientific, and having women on board can keep life at sea from being more boring than it has to be, so they're nowadays more than welcome."

Scientific fishing requires a thorough knowledge of fish, their favorite environments and migration patterns. For example, flat fish prefer the sea floor, while full-bodied fish swim in rapid currents. Red fish commonly are found in shallow waters, with their silver brethren opting for the ocean deep. Students learn how to keep fish herded in schools and to attract or repel them by means of underwater sound. After conducting comprehensive testing in the laboratory, few secrets remain about fish.

Yet landing a big catch is only half the story. Courses are offered in fish preservation and the school operates a canning factory, whose products are said to be quite tasty. Smoking fish is another part of the program, where students find which woods at which temperatures will produce the best flavor. Instruction in fish market management, germ-killing, and sanitation techniques round out this part of the curriculum.

Recent years have seen the emergence of some unhealthy practices in the fishmeal industry, and CMST has countered with efforts to curb their effects. Sellers have been known to add fluorescent solution, anti-spoilant chemicals, and dyes to improve the appearance of the fish, but such cosmetic touches result in bad news for consumers' health. In response, CMST teachers and students have collaborated with the Health Department in publishing illustrated materials for consumers, explaining how to distinguish fresh from phony "fresh" fish.

While fish have their own patterns of migration and breeding, the food industry's demand for fish remains constant year round. This hunger has spawned the need for fish farming and CMST has its share of courses in this area.

Actually, fish grown on these farms are not so much raised as waited on and pampered. Students take pains to see that the water and mud of the pond are suitable for the given kind of fish. Experiments are made to determine the original chemical composition of the fish's aquatic environment, and then the task is to reproduce it on the fish farm. Similar tests are performed to find ways to make fish grow bigger, faster, and taste better. Other chores include cleaning the fish ponds and covering them during rain and typhoons--truly tender, loving care. Nevertheless, the work has its rewards, for the employment outlook is bright for graduates, with job offers coming from Southeast Asia as well as Taiwan.

In the eyes of many, CMST's strong suit is in the balanced nature of its education. President Jeng stresses that all first-year students take a common series of courses which introduce them to the many different areas of ocean science and engineering. Such an approach gives the students a broad, integrated perspective and allows them to decide early where their interest lies. The school also offers an usual amount of freedom in changing departments. Standards are high, however, for instructors are keenly aware that their pupils will soon be working on the high seas. Swimming, not surprisingly, is a prerequisite for graduation.

When asked what they regret most in studying at CMST, most students cite the lack of opportunities to find girl friends. The current gender ratio stands at 8.4-1. School authorities, as a result, organize many extra-curricular activities, with one every evening between 5:30 and 6:30, when neither day nor night school students have classes. In addition, the school boasts 68 societies and organizations, for a student body of about 3,000. But while the social life may not be ideal, CMST still leaves its graduates thoroughly prepared for a life at sea.

[Picture Caption]

Having the sea at campus edge lends itself to an expansive personality.

Jeng Sen-shyong, likens running a school to mountain climbing, with progress coming only after great effort, and studying to stamp collecting--one does as much as possible.

CMST these days looks little like a junior high school.

This bridge mockup was imported from West Germany and provides "on-land"navigation practice for students and ship captains.

This is not the engine room of a ship but a factory at CMST.

Ships do not have salons, meaning students must sharpen their barbering skills.

Lifesaving class, which means a break from the classroom, leaves student s quite at ease.

An ultraviolet light exposes this luminescent fish in the darkness.

Besides the ocean, CMST has two swimming pools. Students who do not learn swimming are suggested not to consider lifesaving work for a career.

Students in the theatre club lure new members.

Dirty clothes are a price well worth paying for a good game of soccer.

In a calmer setting, a student reports on the fruits of his research.

Jeng Sen-shyong, likens running a school to mountain climbing, with progress coming only after great effort, and studying to stamp collecting--one does as much as possible.

Jeng Sen-shyong, likens running a school to mountain climbing, with progress coming only after great effort, and studying to stamp collecting--one does as much as possible.

CMST these days looks little like a junior high school.

This bridge mockup was imported from West Germany and provides "on-land"　navigation practice for students and ship captains.

This is not the engine room of a ship but a factory at CMST.

Ships do not have salons, meaning students must sharpen their barbering skills.

An ultraviolet light exposes this luminescent fish in the darkness.

Besides the ocean, CMST has two swimming pools. Students who do not learn swimming are suggested not to consider lifesaving work for a career.

Students in the theatre club lure new members.

Dirty clothes are a price well worth paying for a good game of soccer.

In a calmer setting, a student reports on the fruits of his research.