The Glittering Ponds of the Taoyuan Plateau

More than just scenic, Taoyuan’s ponds are historic products of human activity that took shape as people adapted to the natural environment. Originally created for the purposes of farmland irrigation, over the past century they have embodied the history and culture of Taoyuan’s co-existence with water.

Before the ponds

Two-hundred-plus years ago, our ancestors began opening up land on the Taoyuan Plateau for cultivation. Because the plateau is elevated above the surrounding land, it was not easy to retain water there. Therefore, these pioneers created ponds in which to collect rainwater to irrigate their farmland. At one time there were nearly 10,000 such ponds.

Because ponds were part of everyday life, a copious vocabulary for them evolved. Just as the Eskimos are said to have responded to their environment by inventing many words to describe snow, so did Taiwanese develop many words for ponds. Lin Wei-shu, an adjunct assistant professor at Yuan Ze University who specializes in studying the history of hydrology in Taiwan, has discovered numerous terms for these bodies of water. For example, Niujiao Pond in Guishan District, one of Taoyuan’s oldest, uses the character 坡 (pronounced pi) for “pond.” Meanwhile, Bajiao (“Octagonal”) Pond in Pingzhen District, which was created by trapping a stream, resulting in its irregular octagonal shape, uses the character 塘 (pronounced tang). At the same time, Sanlian (“Three Links”) Pond at Fugang in Yangmei District, which is actually three pools linked together and is famous for a piece of installation art based on egrets, uses the character 陂 (also pronounced pi). Other characters used have included 埤 (pi), 湖 (hu), 潭 (tan), 池 (chi) and 堀 (ku).

Li Wei-shu has dedicated himself to the study of hydrology in Taiwan. His vocation is to help Taiwanese write their own history.

This memorial at the trailhead of the old Yucheng Road commemorates workers who died during construction of the Taoyuan irrigation canal system in the era of Japanese rule.

At Tunnel No. 3 of the Taoyuan irrigation canal system, one can see churning water flowing towards farmland all across the plateau.

From floods to irrigation

Most of the farmland on the Taoyuan Plateau, because of its lack of a reliable water supply, originally depended on direct rainfall for irrigation, so that dry periods adversely affected ­harvests.

After Japan took control of Taiwan in 1895, the colonial government intended build a network of irrigation canals for Taoyuan and link them up with preexisting ponds to improve the supply of water for ­farming. However, for many years the idea remained in the conceptual stage.

The opportunity to change the situation came with the great floods that hit Northern Taiwan in 1911. In the summer of that year, says Lin Wei-shu, two power­ful typhoons struck Taiwan from north and south, bringing disastrous amounts of rain that inundated the Taipei Basin. After poring through tens of thousands of pages of official records from the Japanese Governor-General’s Office, he learned that at the point where the Dahan River joins with the Xindian River to form the Tamsui River, there was far more water than the riverbed could handle and it overflowed into the Taipei Basin, unleashing a tsunami-like flood wave 909 centimeters in depth.

This little-known historical event, recorded in Lin’s book 1911 Taibei Quanmie (“The Complete Destruction of Taipei, 1911”), prompted the colonial government to conduct a comprehensive survey of Taiwan’s rivers. They drew up topographical maps of river basins, and based on this information, developed river management programs. Chō Reiki, a Japanese national of Korean ancestry, was one of the important players in exploring and surveying the river basins and in later designing the Taoyuan irrigation canal system. He traveled deep into the mountains in ­areas that were then wilderness, gained a clear understanding of the flow of the Dahan River, and laid out plans for the irrigation project. This marked the true beginning of hydrological infrastructure on the Taoyuan Plateau.

Xiaoli Pond is the largest irrigation pond in the Bade area. The water it provides for nearby farmland supports the abundance expressed in the saying “boundless Xiaoli fields, limitless Xiaoli rice.”  (photo by Cathy Teng)

When fields are left fallow at year’s end, “water rangers” inspect the cold, dark tunnels of the Taoyuan irrigation canal system. This routine task has been practiced diligently for the past century. (photo by Yu Yingzong)

A major infrastructure project

Lin drives us in his car to one end of the Daxi Bridge in Taoyuan. Situated near the starting point of the old Yucheng Road, it is also the location of the memorial to the Taoyuan irrigation canal system. Each year in early spring at the start of the year’s first crop growing season, and in the middle of the year at the start of the second growing season, the Irrigation Agency holds a ceremony at the head of the main irrigation canal to pray for the smooth operation of the water channels.

Here one can see the middle section of Tunnel No. 3 of the canal network. Lin explains that the network draws water from the Shimen Canyon in Taoyuan, and that it includes a 25-kilometer-­long water diversion channel and a 25-kilometer main canal. Along the way there are a total of eight tunnels through mountains and five aqueducts over rivers, as well as 12 branch canals that carry irrigation water to fields and into ponds for storage. “The longest tunnel in the Tao­yuan irrigation system is Tunnel No. 3, which is 4,937 meters long. From its completion in 1922 until 1975, more than 50 years, it was Taiwan’s longest tunnel. You can imagine how difficult it must have been to build back in those days when there were no large excavators and it had to be dug by human labor using simple tools.”

While working closely with engineers of the Irrigation Agency when he took part in the production of a book commemorating the 100th anniversary of the founding of the Taoyuan Canal Water Conservancy Association (later the Taoyuan Irrigation Association and now the Taoyuan Management Office of the Irrigation Agency), Lin learned that the Taoyuan irrigation project was calculated with remarkable precision. With the canal’s intake drawing in water at an elevation of only 113 meters above sea level, the designers used extremely accurate calculations and carefully drawn maps to lay out a water channel that followed contour lines with a very gradual downward incline. Another special feature of the system is that many weirs were built to direct water draining off irrigated farmland back into the irrigation channels and ponds to be reused, so that no water is wasted.

The Earth God is the deity in charge of the land, and there are often Earth God shrines next to irrigation ponds. This one, located at Touliao Pond in the mountains of Daxi District, is famous for being an “Earth God amidst water.” This is also the deepest irrigation pond in Taoyuan.

The benefits of irrigation

Work on the Taoyuan irrigation canal system began in 1916 and it went into operation in 1924. It has irrigated an area of nearly 20,000 hectares up to the present day. Lin Wei-shu has calculated that from the time the system opened through to 1938, the incomes of people in Taoyuan tripled. The system not only was a lifeline for agriculture in Taoyuan, it also laid the foundation for urban development.

At the end of each year, water for the system is shut off at the source and “water rangers” from the Shuiwei Station of the Irrigation Agency’s Taoyuan Management Office enter the cold, dark tunnels to inspect whether they are still intact and whether any repairs are needed. Failure to complete this task, which has been a routine official duty over the past century, could affect the water supply for the next year.

In recent years the Irrigation Agency has taken advantage of the period in winter when fields lie fallow and the water flow is halted to organize special “irrigation canal hikes.” The water channels, which normally cannot be entered, are opened to the public to explore on foot. Along the way participants can admire the magnificent construction of this venerable irrigation system and its tunnels, become reacquainted with the liquid lifeline that flows under their cities and towns, and appreciate the value of this century-­old project.

Floating on a pond, the installation art work A Flower It Seems, A Tree It Resembles embodies a dialogue between art and nature.

Chintan Park is famous for its scenery.

Revitalizing majestic landscapes

Taoyuan’s ponds, which in days gone by were used mainly for irrigation, today have a new role and a new significance in the lives of citizens. For example, for many years the Taoyuan Land Art Festival has used the ponds as a stage to create a dialogue between nature and art. One of the works created for the festival is A Flower It Seems, A Tree It Resembles, made by the sculptor Liu Po-chun for the 2017 event. It uses metal openwork to depict abstract flowers and trees floating on a pond. Set against the backdrop of the changing colors of the sky at dawn and dusk, it is today a popular check-in spot.

Meanwhile, Chintan Park (Green Pond Park), near the high-speed rail station in Zhongli District, has become a waterside recreation space for urban residents. The dual-­pylon Chintan Park Scenic Bridge, the round-the-lake walkway, and the gentle slope leading down to the water form a beautiful scene in combination with the nearby Taoyuan Children’s Art Center.

The Longshan Pond Ecology Park in Taoyuan District combines multiple functions, including disaster preparedness, recreation, scenery, and education. Designed with reference to Japan’s Metropolitan Area Outer Underground Discharge Channel (popularly known as G-Cans), it features an underground flood detention pond, thus addressing the problem of making urban areas more resilient to extreme weather.

Hua Xing Ecology Pond Park includes urban, farmland, community, and habitat spaces. Its clever design puts into practice the peaceful co-existence of ecology and human life.

A paradise for birds and birdwatchers

Early in the morning we arrive at Fuzhu Pond, a birdwatching area in Taoyuan’s Luzhu District, where we find Wu Yuzhou, honorary director of the Wild Bird Society of Taoyuan, waiting by a pond, where he arrived much earlier.

Picking up binoculars, Wu gently instructs us to look toward the pond, and tells us about the various birds he sees. As he describes the birds in the distance, he also explains which bird species appear at the pond. “At this time of year, flocks of birds migrate south from Siberia to winter here. There can be as many as 200–300 birds, of which the majority are tufted ducks.”

The grey herons that appear in the manga of Japanese illustrator Hayao Miyazaki are also here. “Herons are the largest migratory birds in Taiwan.” Wu tells us that birdwatching starts with observation from a distance and then a slow approach towards the avians, so that they can grow accustomed to our presence and we don’t startle them.

Fuzhu Pond boasts a comprehensive ecosystem, with large stretches of farmland and woodland nearby. A former ward chief built a tall birdwatching wall with holes in it through which people can quietly observe the beauty of these creatures without disturbing them.

Wu Yuzhou has been a birdwatcher since he was young, and for many years has dedicated himself to the preservation of ponds.

Grey herons, the largest migratory birds to winter in Taiwan, look especially beautiful when they spread their wings.

A new chapter for ponds

Moving to the next birdwatching site, we arrive at Hua Xing Ecology Pond Park in Dayuan District. Because it is located near Taoyuan International Airport, aircraft periodically fly overhead. The park is 6.5 hectares in area, of which 5.9 hectares is water. However, the designers took an original approach and divided the water into two large areas, one a recreational space for visitors and residents, the other an ecological area for water birds.

The ecological water area comes with a manmade floating island to diversify the habitat. Of special interest is the submerged green corridor, which is a walkway sunk below water level, so that when one steps into it, the water is almost at eye level. This enables one to observe birds up close from a different perspective. The divider between the two water areas ensures that there is minimal disruption of birds and that humans and birds can co-exist peacefully. Wu has high praise for the design: “It was a great idea to separate the recreational space for people from the bird environment.”

Wu guides us to another corner of the pond where, when we crouch down and look carefully, we see two kinds of wetland plants being restored here by Fan Su-wei, a researcher at the Taiwan Forestry Research Institute: the Chinese fringe lily and the Indian sundew.

Both of these plant species are extremely rare in Taiwan, where they are found in grassy wetlands. The earliest records of them date back to the ­Japanese era, and all were found in today’s Taoyuan area. Fan Su-wei says that the Indian sundew is one of the very few insectivorous plants among Taiwan’s native species. Meanwhile, the Chinese fringe lily produces small pure white flowers. Before these bloom, the plant looks just like any wild grass or weed, making it difficult to identify. Considering that the flowering period of the Chinese fringe lily is very brief, and it only flowers on mornings with adequate sunshine, while closing up in the afternoons, it remains a plant that is not well known among the academic community.

The transplantation of these plants to the Hua Xing Ecology Pond Park is still in the observation stage. However, Fan expects that in the future it will prove important for gradually restoring the former vegetation of grassy wetlands in Taiwan and enhancing overall biodiversity.

The presence of ponds also helps mitigate the “heat island” effect of urban areas, as large bodies of water absorb heat. Lin Wei-shu says: “Ponds can help moderate the temperature. The average temperature in Tao­yuan’s urban areas is 1°C lower than in other cities, which is a big difference!”

The late documentary filmmaker Chi Po-lin, famous for filming Taiwan from the air, once described Taiwan’s pond scenery in this way: “They glitter like crystals scattered across the land.” This glittering landscape, with all its cultural significance, reflects the longtime connections between human beings and the land and is engraved into the memories of local residents. Yet the meaning of ponds is not confined to their past importance; they are also an integral part of how we live today and how we imagine the environment and lifestyles of the future. 

The Indian sundew, shown here being restored next to Hua Xing Pond, is one of the very few insectivorous plants among Taiwan’s native species. (photo by Cathy Teng)

Wu Yuzhou explains that ponds make good habitats for birds that need deep water, like tufted ducks and little grebes. The photo shows a little grebe at Hua Xing Ecology Pond Park. Excellent divers, these birds often go below the surface of the water to search for food.