Sea Adventure

I don't know since when the embankment belongs to the area.Anchoring boats to avoid natural disasters in Nghi Tan ward(Cua Lo town) became a temporary shelter for about thirty small ships from Quynh Phuong ward, Hoang Mai town.

Quynh Phuong fishermen's boats anchored in Nghi Tan ward, Cua Lo town. Photo: Dao Tuan

FISHERMEN'S VILLAGE

I arrived at Nghi Tan ward at the exact time when the ships were moored to avoid storm number 4. On the embankment, there were easily more than 20 ships resting with their bows up in the pale sunlight. It was almost 10am but a few families were still having breakfast. A plump woman with a kind face took my hand and pulled me onto the boat.

I had just managed to stoop into the boat's cabin, and before I could sit down, I saw Ms. Bui Thi Hang - the woman's name - enthusiastically take another bowl and chopsticks and place them on the plastic sheet spread out in the middle of the boat: "Please invite the family to a bowl of rice". At the same time, Mr. Nguyen Van Dung - Ms. Hang's husband also put down his chopsticks and reached for a glass placed in a small compartment in the boat's cabin. The man's voice was calm, slow, and cheerful: "It's not often that guests come to 'home', let's have a drink with me".

The wine was cloudy yellow, I didn't know what it was soaked in. Appreciating the hospitality of the middle-aged couple, I took a sip of wine and nibbled on the pieces of dried shrimp that had curled up because of the saltiness.

Meal on the small boat of Mr. Nguyen Van Dung and Ms. Bui Thi Hang. Photo: Dao Tuan

Mr. Dung said that his family is from Quynh Phuong ward, Hoang Mai town - the land of generations of seafarers. However, he is not from Quynh coastal area. His hometown is Dien Chau, he grew up wandering everywhere with his friends. Dung said that he does not understand why once he set foot in Hoang Mai, he could not leave.

“I thought I would avoid the seafaring profession to have an easy life, but unexpectedly, I met a nun – he pointed at his wife – and got stuck with boats and fishing. So I have been at sea for more than thirty years,” said the man in his 50s.

Drifting along the fishing season and windy seas all year round, Dung and Hang rarely return home. Only on holidays, New Year, death anniversaries or when they have to deal with paperwork do they return to Hoang Mai. "Currently, there is only the daughter-in-law and the young grandchild at home, the son also followed his parents to Cua Lo to work" - said Hang.

Not only Mr. Dung's family, but in Nghi Tan ward, there are nearly 30 families from Quynh Phuong who gather to exploit seafood. The fishing vessels are ships with a capacity of 20-40CV. Small vessels, small fishing - the fleet of Quynh Phuong households only exploit about 12-15 nautical miles from shore, sometimes reaching Hon Mat, Hon Me. The seafood exploited is mainly crab, mantis shrimp (mantis shrimp), spiny snail, fish, etc.

Spiny snail - a type of seafood caught by fisherman Quynh Phuong. Photo: Dao Tuan

A NEW DAY BEGINS AT MIDNIGHT

A day of the “resident” fishermen usually starts at midnight. That is the time when the fleet leaves the port. The small boats have only 2-4 men, they are father and son, brothers or relatives. However, there are also families, because there are too few people, so only one person goes fishing, so they have to both steer the boat, cast the net, and proactively face and handle problems that arise at sea. Absolutely no women go with the boat. When reaching the offshore area, it takes more than 1 hour for the fishermen to cast the nets up to 7-8km long.

A ship prepares supplies to set sail. Photo: Dao Tuan

At this time on the shore, the women and children of the Quynh Phuong fleet gathered in a common room. It was both a boarding house and a warehouse. The room for the women and children of this “residence” village was given free accommodation by local traders, but with one condition: The seafood caught had to be imported to them.

As Ms. Bui Thi Hang shared: being able to stay and anchor boats for free is a double loss because of the low seafood prices. For example, crab, type 1, is imported for about 30,000 VND/kg, but the average price is only over 20,000 VND/kg. "Well, it's okay, having a place to work and living is considered okay" - Ms. Hang smiled heartily.

After importing seafood according to the agreement with local traders, the women sell the rest right at the wharf. Photo: Dao Tuan

Back to the men, their boats do not use lights to catch fish as is common in large-capacity boats. In the dark sea, they mark their presence with a few battery-powered lights tied to poles and placed in the bow or stern of the boat. With each wave, the lights flicker up and down. At around 4am, the nets begin to be pulled up. A winch placed on the bow of the boat effectively assists in collecting the nets. It also takes two hours to carry out this process. When the nets are collected, someone will turn the stove to cook breakfast to satisfy their hunger after a hard night's work. After finishing the morning's quick meal, the boat turns its bow towards shore, and in the process, seafood continues to be removed from the nets.

“SEA TIGER CATCHES WILD BOAR”

At 10am, boats and ships dotted the dock. By mid-afternoon, the whole embankment became bustling. Women carrying trays came to the dock to welcome their husbands. “This season, we only catch about ten kilos a day. Any family that catches a few bird’s nests can be considered a winner. There are also lucky nights when we earn a few million,” Mr. Luong Van Nam shared with me while his hand was still holding the wrench to fix the machine.

While Mr. Luong Van Nam was fixing the machine, his 4-year-old son Luong Gia Huy could not take his eyes off his father. Photo: Dao Tuan

There is something quite special about this man born in the year of Tan Hoi - 1971, he is a Thai ethnic, born and raised in the mountainous commune of Nghia Loi, Nghia Dan. He never thought he would become a fisherman and stick with the sea. It was all like an arrangement of fate.

When he was young, Nam worked as a forester and exploiter of forest products. One day, by chance, he met a girl from the coastal area who was selling fish on the street. They got to know each other, fell in love and fell in love. His wife, Ms. Bui Thi Hai, born in 1974, was born in the year of the tiger. He jokingly said: “I am a mountain man who was captured by a sea tiger.”

After the two got married, at first they lived together in the husband's hometown, earning a living by burning firewood and selling charcoal, then they followed the fish trade in all the villages of Phu Quy land. But then, the money they earned was not much, so the couple took their child and returned to Quynh Phuong, the wife's hometown.

Nam began to learn from his father-in-law and brother-in-law the seafaring profession. “You don’t know, but even now, after 20 years of sailing at sea, I still can’t forget the feeling of uncertainty and instability in the first days at sea. At that time, I wanted to leave my wife’s hometown several times.” However, the man with tanned skin could not go. Gradually, he became more comfortable with the waves, familiar with the current, able to look at the stars, measure the wind direction to go out to sea. He was even proficient in repairing machinery. Interestingly, Ms. Bui Thi Hai - Mr. Nam’s wife is the younger sister of Ms. Bui Thi Hang. “The whole family works at sea, when my daughter got married and moved out, they both also worked at sea,” Mr. Nam laughed.

Ships have just docked. Photo: Dao Tuan

Temporarily residing to work in Cua Lo, in addition to the eldest son who works with his father, Mr. Nam and his wife also brought along their youngest son, who is only 4 years old. "Gia Huy is the only child left," Ms. Hai laughed. "When he came here, I asked him to go to a local kindergarten. On days off, he goes on the boat to play with his parents, and at night, he goes back to his rented room. That's life."

They also work at sea, but why don’t they stay in their hometowns and have to wander around? I asked the men and women of Quynh Phuong about this concern. They said that to catch crabs and mantis shrimps, they have to go to Cua Lo and Cua Sot (Ha Tinh). In the first half of the year, they go to Cua Lo, in the second half, they go to Cua Sot. The money they earn is not much, but selling seafood and avoiding storms is what fishermen need most.

When the boat is docked, the joy of the fishermen here is recreational fishing. Photo: Dao Tuan

Saying goodbye to these simple people makes me happy.

The storm had just passed, and from the boat, the children of the slum jumped into the clear blue water. On the other side, a group of men and women held small rods, using flour bait to catch silver pomfret – also known as linh kinh. Every time they pulled up a fish, the whole area laughed loudly.