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| Fishermen help one another carry their boats out to sea |
The sea remains rough, yet fishermen set out to sea
We met Vo Bac - a weathered fisherman from Phong Quang Ward - as he planted his bamboo fishing rod in the white sand, his eyes fixed on the breaking waves. The rod quivered gently with each gust of sea wind, yet the calloused hand of the seasoned man held it steady.
“Each day, I catch about five to seven kilos of ca ong ( small silvery nearshore fish along the central coast of Vietnam). They’re rare this season, so the price is high - there are days I earn more than 300,000 dong,” Bac said with a soft smile. “It’s safer than venturing out to sea, especially when the waves are still fierce.
A few hooks, a length of line, and a bamboo rod - all for less than a few hundred thousand dong - serve as the “bread-and-butter rods” for many fishermen after the rough seas. Ca ong, mackerel, mullet… follow the tide to the shore, bringing a lively season of fishing right onto the white sandy beach.
Vo Bac shows off his haul from a nearshore trip.
Yet most fishermen continue to venture out on their bamboo boats, casting nets and lines into the rough open sea. A single good catch can bring in tens or even hundreds of kilograms of seafood, providing a notable income after days “laid up ashore.” Several days at sea can earn them tens of millions of dong - a considerable sum for coastal communities. But to reach that reward, they must confront the life-threatening challenge known as “riding the waves.”
From dawn, dozens of bamboo boats lined up, waiting to “ride the waves.” “Sometimes we spend an hour without even getting out to sea. White-capped waves, as tall as two or three people, slam the boats back immediately. Many trips have to turn back and bring the boats ashore - it’s too risky to push on,” Bac recounted.
Not every boat escapes unscathed. Violent waves can submerge a boat in an instant. Many fishermen lose everything when nets are carried off or boats destroyed, with damages reaching tens or even hundreds of millions of dong. Thankfully, in Phong Quang and the Ngu Dien area, there have been no reported human casualties on these “wave-riding” trips - thanks to the high vigilance and mutual support of the fishing community.
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| Fishermen’s rewards after a nearshore trip |
Every boat that sets out is watched by hundreds of eyes from the shore. When it rides the waves, cheers ring out like encouragement. If a boat encounters trouble, those remaining onshore are ready to rush to its rescue. “There’s always someone on duty. If a boat capsizes, we act immediately. Help someone today, and maybe tomorrow they’ll help you in return,” Vo Tuong - a veteran fisherman from Phong Quang Ward - said sincerely.
Unpredictable perils
If “riding the waves” represents the perilous voyage of offshore boats, then the nearshore practices of “dredging” and “mullet fishing” are equally daring means of survival. These traditional trades were once common along the Ngu Dien coast and throughout Hue’s coastal waters. Today, the number of practitioners has dwindled, both because of the dangers involved and the waning interest among young people.
For this trade, one person swims out to cast the net while the other keeps hold of the rope onshore, and both must move in perfect sync. Yet in the stormy season, even one sudden wave can drag someone far out. “There have been fishermen who drowned along the Phong Quang coast while netting mullet nearshore. The sea may seem peaceful, but the undercurrents are fierce,” Bac said, his voice sinking.
Driven by the need to earn a living, many still go to sea, but they never forget safety. Before setting out, they equip themselves with life jackets and lifebuoys and go in groups to be ready to assist each other in case of an accident. Experience at sea becomes a valuable asset - just by watching the waves and listening to the wind, they know whether it’s safe to venture out.
“Calm seas aren’t always safe. Sometimes the water looks still, but violent undercurrents can overturn a boat as soon as it sets out. That’s why we always go in pairs - so we can rescue each other if anything happens,” Bac said.
The local authorities are keeping a vigilant watch. Hoang Van Suu, Vice Chairman of the People’s Committee of Phong Quang Ward, said: “We always assign officers to coordinate with village heads to monitor nearshore fishing activities closely. While residents are eager to make a living, they must under no circumstances go out to sea when the waters are unsafe.”
Nearshore fishing methods, such as line fishing and dredging, are encouraged, but they come with stringent safety requirements. Fishermen are regularly advised and reminded, provided with leaflets, and trained in how to respond to accidents at sea. “Human life comes above all else. Seafood can always be harvested, but the loss of life is irreparable,” Suu emphasized.
Human kindness amid stormy seas
Amid the harshness of nature, the greatest beauty that remains is human kindness. In Phong Quang and Ngu Dien, fishermen are not just fellow sailors but like brothers and family. They share every meal and share both risks and fortunes on the open sea.
Late in the afternoon, as the sunset paints the horizon purple, the boats begin to return. Whether the day’s catch was plentiful or not, those onshore are ready to assist - hauling boats, sorting fish, carrying nets, and gear. Laughter rings out, cutting through the chill of the sea breeze and the exhaustion of a long day at sea. The sea may be turbulent, but the bonds of human kindness remain deep and unwavering.
The lives of people along the coast are closely bound to uncertainty - sun and rain, storms and wind, the comings and goings of fish. Yet it is in the midst of the rough sea season that opportunity arises, for after every strong storm, the waters stir and bring in abundant new schools of fish, as though nature itself is rewarding human patience and resilience.
“Rough seas are harsh, but they’re also nature’s reward. Each time this occurs, ca ong, mullet, and mackerel come close to the shore in great numbers. With diligence and perseverance, there’s food and a living,” Vo Bac said with a kind smile, his eyes glowing with faith.
This isn’t just Bac’s outlook; it’s a vital belief held by many coastal fishing families. Children grow up with the sound of the waves, accustomed early to seasons of scarce fish and stormy days. And through these challenges, they learn to treasure every meal, every drop of fish sauce, and every fresh fish painstakingly brought home by their parents from the open sea.
To some, earning a living at sea may seem like a journey fraught with danger, but for the locals, the sea is more than a livelihood. It is home, it is their roots, and it offers support for this life and generations to come.
Amid increasingly severe weather and erratic natural disasters, the dedication of Ngu Dien fishermen is more worthy of respect than ever. They do not yield to the waves, but know how to live with the sea - interpreting the waves, gauging the wind, waiting for a safe moment to “ride the waves,” stepping back when needed, and always sharing and supporting one another - the most enduring values of their community.
“We not only oversee, but also support local residents - from awareness campaigns and reminders to connecting resources that ensure long-term livelihood stability. Fishermen are never on their own,” Hoang Van Suu, Vice Chairman of the People’s Committee of Phong Quang Ward, affirmed.
Coupled with the policies that support fishermen’s access to loans, vessel upgrades, and diversified fishing practices, the local fisheries sector is gradually moving toward sustainable development, thereby reducing pressure on nearshore resources. Though challenges remain, the transformation is taking hold, carried forward by sun-browned hands and hopeful eyes looking out toward the open sea.