New Southbound Policy Portal

 

The Shen’ao Line passes through New Taipei City’s Ruifang District, an area once dominated by mining and one of the few in Taiwan to possess abundant mineral resources. Three Ruifang towns, Shuinandong, Jinguashi and Jiufen, were even known as “golden” mountain towns.

After a century of activity, the local mining industry declined in the 1990s as its underground resources began to run dry. The liberalization of coal imports marked the end of the district’s days of mineral extraction. With the industry no longer viable, people largely forgot about Ruifang until movies such as A City of Sadness and A Borrowed Life thrust Jiufen into the limelight. Visitors have since flooded Jiufen’s streets, snacking on taro balls and taking in lovely views of the sea, the past a silent backdrop to their visit.

The Shen’ao spur has many stories to tell.

Reopened in 2014, the 4.7-kilometer Shen’ao Line stops only in Ruifang, Haikeguan and Badouzi, yet its history traces back to the period when Japan ruled Taiwan. Built, extended, retired and then put back into service, the railway has followed the ups and downs of Ruifang’s economy, tracking the district’s development and earning itself a special place in the hearts of local seniors.

The Japan Mining Co. (which became Taiwan Metals) first constructed a pushcar railway line from Shui­nan­dong to Ba­chi­men in Keelung in 1935 to meet the needs of the local mining industry. Then known as the Jin­gua­shi Line, this railway transported ore to a harbor to be loaded onto ships.

Taiwan Metals took control of the pushcar line after WWII, but the company’s operational difficulties led it to close the line in 1962. The Taiwan Railways Adminis­tra­tion then built a railway line from Ruifang to Badouzi in 1965, and extended it to Haibin and Liandong in 1967 to create what most people now call the Shen’ao Line.

The opening of the Northern Coastal Highway in 1978 reduced both passenger and freight traffic on the rail spur, leading to the shuttering of the Haibin and Lian­dong stations just 12 years after their completion. In 2007, the retirement of the Shen’ao power plant resulted in the closure of the entire line. But when the National Museum of Marine Science and Technology opened in 2014, the TRA invested NT$55 million in renovating the line to serve the needs of the new visitors to the area.
 

Railway enthusiasts refer to Badouzi’s minimalist railway stop as the “Duoliang Station of Northern Taiwan.” Its simple facilities fit right into the coastal landscape.
 

The Shen’ao spur begins at Ruifang Station. Ruifang has long been a transport nexus, as the history of the town’s name makes plain. Originally known as kam-á-luā (“tangerine shoals”), it first arose at a spot in present-day Ganping Borough, at the intersection of the Keelung River and one of the three main trails between Taipei and Yilan, collectively known as the Danlan Trails. In those days, travel was difficult and routes were limited. People and goods moving along the trail had no choice but to pass through the site. Ruifang’s modern name (“lucky and fragrant”) is said to have been adopted from that of a grocery store then located at the ferry crossing.

When the Japanese built railways in Taiwan during their half-century of control over the island, they often relocated communities to what have become the shopping districts behind Taiwan’s modern-day train stations. Unfortunately, for all that Ruifang Station is busy year round handling more than 4 million domestic and international visitors changing trains on their way to scenic spots such as Pingxi, Jiufen, Jinguashi, and Shui­nan­dong, the shopping district behind the station is struggling. It’s hard to imagine that before the station’s physical expansion and the addition of new trans­porta­tion links, this shopping district was one of the most vibrant along the coast, with all kinds of businesses and trades, and even four market sessions per day.

Long’an Borough chief Ke Ruihe takes us on a tour of his neighborhood’s attractions: a stone lantern from the Japanese shrine that once stood at the station’s rear exit; the elaborate facade and baroque gables of the old Liao family house; the Yifang Trading Company, located in the former headquarters of the Ruisan Mining Company, built by mining-era tycoon Li Jianxing; the once bustling but now deserted Ruifang Hostel; the restored pushcar railway; and unusual architectural features like hidden alleys.

In recent years, Ke has joined hands with a number of local young people to encourage the rebirth of Ruifang’s old town. They have renovated several public spaces that had fallen into disrepair; used a vacant property to establish the Ruifang “Tourism Living Room,” where travelers can take a break and pick up a few souvenirs; and lighted local streets and alleys with lamps modeled on the safety lanterns that miners used to carry when working. The latter calls to mind lines from a song the miners used to sing: “The lantern I carry into the pit, / is it bright or not? / Matches always close at hand, / lunchbox cloth tied fast.”
 

 

When Taiwan Metals shut down in 1987, it left no major employers in the district. Residents began to move away and these once prosperous mountain towns fell silent. But later, some people came to appreciate that quiet and chose to stay.

Spouses Shi Cenyi and Chen Zemin are a case in point. They decided to relocate to Shuinandong 20 years ago, before the three goldrush towns became tourism hotspots.

“Ruifang is really special. It’s got mountains, the ocean, and a river, plus farming, fishing and mining.”

“We decided to move to Shuinandong because we thought it was the prettiest of the three towns,” says Shi. “Its beauty is precious, with the Golden Waterfalls, the Yin­yang Sea, and the 13-tiered ruins of the old smelter.”

Shi puts her knowledge of landscape design, archi­tec­ture, arts management and cultural policy to practical use in Ruifang. She has served as head of the Gold Museum, worked with locals to set up the Shancheng Gallery, and recently bought a spot in Ruifang’s old town with the intention of creating a combination classroom and hostel.

In contrast, author Lai Shuya moved from Jinguashi to Taipei with her family at the age of nine, but never forgot her hometown. Personal connections and nostalgia for the place drew her back, and she now maintains a second home in Jinguashi. Formerly employed by a publisher, she finds inspiration to write about history nearly everywhere in and around Jinguashi and does fieldwork there. “My feelings for my hometown pull me forward like a locomotive.”

Only Jiufen thrived in the early days of the district’s resur­gence, but now tourism hotspots in nearby Jinguashi, Shuinandong and Badouzi are becoming famous as well. During the 2019 Mid-Autumn Festival, the installation of new exterior lighting awakened the 13-tiered smelter ­ruins from 32 years of slumber. The event made many people real­ize that this time-worn relic of the mining industry was in fact a valuable cultural asset.

Something similar happened three years ago in Badouzi with the opening of the HOHObase coffee­shop and gallery on a former mining site next to the train station. Photo­grapher He Jingtai and his girlfriend Huang Youyu, the couple behind the shop, started work on it three years ago when a friend of theirs, who happened to be the heir to the property’s owner, Rong­long Mining, asked them to come up with ways to revital­ize the then derelict space. The couple, who used to work in Taipei, started a second ­career in Ruifang with the opening of the cafe and gallery.

The 2600-square-meter lot still bears traces of the old mine, including the mine entrance and the machine room. The latter retains steel ceiling hooks used in the past, but now serves as the business’s gallery. To further high­light the space’s ties to the past, He and Huang invited photographer Chang Chao-tang to exhibit his work in the gallery’s mining-­themed inaugural exhibition.

A century of changing times has seen innumerable people come and go from this small patch of our island. Known in Taiwanese as “Suī-hong,” which sounds rather like the English phrase “sweet home,” lovely Rui­fang is indeed a sweet home to the many people here striving to realize their dreams. No matter how the world turns, human endeavors and willpower continue to entwine themselves with the history of this place, bridging past and present in a way that is eternal.

For more pictures, please click 《From Mines to Culture—The Downhome Charm of the Shen’ao Line》