A day in Nghi Thuy

(Baonghean) - After blowing out the candles to welcome my 20th birthday, I was ready for my first long trip, temporarily leaving Hanoi - the place I had been attached to for 20 years - to get closer to my passion. A friend gave me an address, which according to her: "It will be suitable for you for an experience. Just enough to not have to work too hard, but also enough to make you love this life more." The address she gave me was her mother's hometown. The fishing village is in Nghi Thuy ward, Cua Lo town, Nghe An.

“Try typing in Google to get a little idea of ​​where you’re going.” My friend suggested, and we sat down to watch a video about Nghi Thuy fishing port that was filmed in early May. Without further ado, let’s go… I’ve longed for the feeling of exploring lands that are still strange and new to me, right in my own country…

Nghi Thuy fishing wharf market at 5am. Photo: Ho Phuong

Cua Lo welcomed me with a long stretch of flat sand, with rows of casuarina trees rustling in the wind, with the sound of waves lapping the shore day and night; and Nghi Thuy fishing village welcomed me with the genuine smiles of the coastal fishermen. At 6 pm, ending the 300km journey and stopping at Nghi Thuy fishing village, my first trip could be called a good one. But what was more wonderful was that when I arrived here, I was enthusiastically allowed to stay overnight by the family of Ms. Bui Thi My (Block 7, Nghi Thuy Ward, a relative of my friend) and promised to let me experience a day with the coastal people.

While I was sleeping after a tiring day, the sound of objects hitting each other, then the sound of a rooster crowing woke me up. I looked through the window with sleepy eyes, it was still dark. My turned on the light switch and said to me, "Wake up, a day for us fishermen starts very early like this." I looked at the clock, it was only 4am. "Is it always like this, sister? Every day you wake up at this time?" My smiled, "Except when you're sick. I'm used to waking up early. The day feels very long, sister." I stretched. The gentle wind, the smell of the sea embraced the whole fishing village, the lights of each house were gradually turning on, the feeling of peace was strange.

Ms. My gave me a faded jacket: "Put this on, now we'll go to the fishing port, get wholesale fish to sell, jostling each other out there will easily get dirty." Wearing a conical hat, a work jacket, and pedaling a rickety bicycle tied with baskets to hold fish, I looked like a true sea dweller. Cycling behind Ms. My, it was still dark, I saw that she walked slowly and leisurely: Is it because I'm afraid you're not used to it that I walk slowly? She replied: I'm walking slowly to get to the village intersection, we'll just meet and go together for fun, it'll be dawn by then, we'll walk faster.

In the mild weather of the early morning, cycling through the small alleys, the clacking sound of the bicycles sounded like a symphony. There was also the faint smell of dried shrimps and the fragrant smell of mackerel wafting from the grills. In the distance, the fishing wharf was gradually becoming clearer, boats were coming in groups, bustling. The fishing wharf was crowded, bustling, and colorful. Mothers and sisters sat waiting for the boats to return so they could buy the first batches of fresh seafood.

Nghi Thuy fishermen (Cua Lo town) transfer fish to shore. Photo: Ho Phuong

While I was immersed in the atmosphere of the market welcoming the boat back, Ms. My shook my shoulder: “Hurry up, the other boat is about to dock, go over there and wait for the fish. Hurry up!” As if understanding the urgency, I hugged two bamboo baskets and ran after her towards the boat that was approaching the shore. As soon as the boat docked, I could easily see the joy and excitement but also the tiredness on the faces of the crew members after a successful night at sea. The boat returned with a full hold of fish, very quickly a team of stevedores was waiting in front, their hands quickly passing each basket of shrimp, crab, fish, and crab down to the shore. All the seafood was still fresh, the fish and squid eyes were still sparkling. Ms. My quickly grabbed the basket of mackerel, put it on the scale herself and paid the ship owner as usual. The scene of the fish wharf market appears like a colorful picture, bustling with buyers and sellers, occasionally there are groups of tourists coming to visit, calling out to each other, exchanging and bargaining busily...

Nghi Thuy is like many other coastal fishing villages. The majority of people here make a living from fishing and fishing logistics. Therefore, it is not difficult to see people grilling fish by charcoal stoves on the road leading to the village.

According to Ms. My, the work of fish grillers begins with purchasing fish from the fleet, bringing them back, cutting them into pieces, cleaning them, waiting for them to dry, and then grilling them on charcoal. Sea fish processed in this way will retain their natural flavor, be easy to preserve, and easy to transport, so they are increasingly popular. For that reason, the fish grilling profession in Nghi Thuy has also developed. The whole ward has more than 100 households doing fish grilling with an income of 7-15 million VND/household/month. Families that make a small amount sell them in the markets around the area, while families that make a large amount supply them to mountainous districts in the province, and sell them to tourists in all provinces and cities. From here, Nghi Thuy is known to many people for its grilled sea fish products. It is also one of the professions encouraged by the locality in its tourism development plan.

The beginning of summer is also the time when Nghi Thuy fish grilling is in full swing. Fish drying racks cover the yard, extending to both sides of the village road. The figures of mothers and sisters waving their conical hats, washing, drying, and grilling fish, accompanied by bustling laughter throughout the village.

Leaving the fish market around noon, I and Ms. My carried fish home to start the daily work of grilling fish. Ms. My said that summer is the best time to grill fish because the fish is dried in the sun, making it more delicious, but because of that, the grilling of fish is more difficult. The temperature outside can reach up to 40 degrees Celsius, but she still sits by the charcoal stove to grill tons of fish. Not to mention the constant exposure to smoke and coal dust, coughing at night. But the job, doing it for a long time, also feels attached. Grilling fish, besides Ms. My, also has her old mother. Her husband, a man from a fishing village, goes on trips out to sea for half a month and then returns. Her family has only one small child, who wanders around while her mother and grandmother are busy at the grill.

Grilled fish at the market (Cua Lo town). Photo: Phan Nguyen

Looking at the pieces of mackerel gradually turning golden brown on the charcoal stove, I could see the skill of the fish griller. Grilling fish properly, keeping the fire at a moderate level, the fish cooked to the right degree, requires the worker to have experience, the more evenly the fish is turned, the more delicious it is. Even if someone learns quickly, it takes a whole year to get used to the job. The smell of grilled fish mixed with the smell of charcoal smoke seems to mark a unique feature of Nghi Thuy fish grilling village. Ms. My showed me how to turn each fish on the charcoal stove. But I was still confused. The job seemed very easy but I did it with great difficulty. She said that tomorrow or the day after she would import these "finished products" from Vinh market. The day when there was a lot of fish, she would have a "shipper" to sell to the markets in the mountains. "But that's it, I'm weak, I can only make a little, I'll just stick to Vinh and Cua Lo", Ms. My said.

We sat around the red-hot charcoal stove all afternoon. My hands were already tired. The dinner served was all seafood, extremely delicious. Having dinner with My's family, I said goodbye to forever remember Nghi Thuy. Remember the magnificent beauty of the morning, when the sun rose and the sun rose. Remember the hustle and bustle of the boats returning from the open sea. Remember the hard-working, busy but joyful look of the coastal people. Remember the red-hot charcoal stove with the aroma of grilled fish...

Thy Hue