The year was 1403. All of China bowed to the Yongle Emperor, third Emperor of the great Ming Dynasty. His influence dominated Asia, and none questioned Chinese military supremacy. The remnant of the once-mighty Yuan dynasty, heirs of Genghis Khan, bickered and squabbled to the north, while a fractured, infighting Japan stood by passively.

But the Emperor wanted more. China grew expansionist, and her borders spread north and south as far as they could reach. But the Yongle Emperor's influence was not restricted to land.

In 1403, the Emperor ordered the construction of an immense fleet, placed under the command of Admiral Zheng He. By the time it was completed two years later, the fleet comprised of more than 200 merchant ships, warships, and support vessels. It was a veritable floating city, a symbol of the sheer might of the Emperor and his people. In the autumn of 1405, the fleet set sail.

In his first voyage, Zheng He led the fleet through the islands of Southeast Asia, bribing and awing local rulers to ensure they would bend to the Emperor's will. The fleet sailed through the straits of Malacca and across the Bay of Bengal all the way to India before returning home, annihilating a pirate warlord on the way back with the same urgency of an elephant swatting a fly with its trunk.

I may have forgotten to mention the size of the Chinese flagships. Sailing under nine masts at a total length of between 400 and 600 feet. For comparison, Columbus's largest ship, the Santa Maria had three masts and was a mere 62 feet long. The Santa Maria could have been carried across the Atlantic by one of the Chinese ships.

This was the first of seven voyages Zheng He led around the Indian Ocean. Seven times the immense ships loomed into South Asian ports, bringing the Emperor's power to the doorsteps of local rulers who may have thought themselves strong.

Each successive voyage ranged further than the last, with one squadron of ships even making the voyage to Mecca to pray on the Admiral's behalf. Kings and self-proclaimed "Emperors" sent gifts back with the treasure fleet to curry favor with the Yongle Emperor. Ostriches, Giraffes, Lions, and Elephants sailed to China in the bellies of the great wooden leviathans.

The final voyage took place in 1430, revisiting Mogadishu and Malindi in modern Somalia and Kenya respectively. Fifty-eight years later, Vasco da Gama became the first European commander to set foot in Mombasa, but only after a disastrous first voyage and many deaths along the way.

The Chinese treasure fleets beat the Europeans by six decades, begging the question of what could have happened had the Ming Dynasty not turned inward-looking and isolationist. European explorers might have rounded the Cape of Good Hope only to find themselves in the shadow of nine masts. It's possible that such an encounter could have convinced them to turn around.

Imagine what the world would have been like had these voyages continued. Chinese colonies on the California Coast would be plausible, as would a Chinese-controlled Africa. Perhaps the brutal European imperialism that historically took hold would have been replaced by something better. Perhaps something far worse.

Unless someone finds an effective method to travel time or view different realities, we will likely never know what could have been, and are restricted to empty theorizing and guesswork.

The possibilities of the great nine-masted treasure ships, like so many other wonders, are lost to the depths of history.