An entry in the TFS Travel Journal
What a wake-up call: we’re a few hundred meters from the airport - which also serves as an air force base - and we heard jets (T-29 trainers from Czechoslavakia, we later learned) taking off and landing from 6ish on. We had the very nice breakfast buffet, with Wendy again enjoying the Japanese noodle soup. We sat out on the veranda and marveled at both the beautiful view of the blue water with the many islands just off the coast as well as how hot it already was at 9am! We met up with Victor and drove the few minutes to the dock where we boarded a small, wooden boat, the Sea Swallow. (Sea Swallows are prized and rare birds; they build nests of sticks and their saliva, which are thought to have magical powers that can aid fertility and slow the aging process. A kilo of nests can bring over $3000. We also learned that the rice wine we’ve seen with the cobra in it can cure back aches, and that rice wine that has had a sea horse soaking in it for many months can cure insomnia as well as back aches) We set sail for one of the 19 tiny islands off the Nha Trang coast in the Eastern Sea (as the Vietnamese refer to the South China Sea).
First stop was a coral reef off one of the smaller islands. Snorkeling was fun, but nothing special other than a few boxy puffer fish and some beautiful coral; the water was wonderfully warm, though. Then we motored over to Temple Island, where we moored a few hundred meters off shore. There we looked over the big four-sided nets submerged in the water containing this morning’s catch. We selected a few crabs, two big snappers, and two small lobsters; as the squid tend to squirt ink when they’re grabbed, we left that for the professionals. Wendy and Victor then went ashore on a floating wooden platform that is propelled by pulling yourself - and the platform - along a rope tied to the shore. Milton went for a ride in one of the small, round basket-shaped things the locals use to maneuver around short distances in the bays. The woman got mad and barked something in Vietnamese when he kept paddling in circles and away from shore, so we finally paddled into land.
While our lunch was being prepared, we went for a walk around the island. It has about 2,500 residents (the majority of which are children), wells but no running water, electricity, one school and one kareoke bar. It was fascinating to just walk around and see the locals in such a different life. At one of the wells, a small teen-age girl was filling two buckets before using a long pole, notched at each end, to carry them back. When she finished, Victor had Milton pick up the pole with the two buckets on each end and walk with it on his shoulder. While it wasn’t too heavy to carry (though almost!), it was very difficult to walk without spilling the water as the buckets swung wildly. The girl, who probably weighed 1/2 of Milton, then picked them up and briskly walked away barefoot along the loose-stone walkway, spilling not a drop.
We returned to our little outdoors lunch spot and savored the freshest seafood imagineable. The lobsters and crabs were tasty appetizers, followed by the snapper grilled with chili and lemongrass; some soup of snapper seasoned wonderfully with tamarind; fried squid; and a grilled squid with oil, sesame and peppers. We loved it all, then pulled ourselves back out to the boat and motored away.
Next stop was a “resort” built on a small island by a local businessman. It is just a series of thatched-roof structures - some small with two chaises; a bar; a dining area; all looking very much like Gilligan’s Island architecture, including showers of wooden barrels of water with coconut shells with handles - sitting along a curving beach affording a view of Nha Trang, the deep blue water, and the lush green islands. We parked ourselves in two of the chaises and drifted into a meditative state the Buddha would have been proud of. After 30 minutes or so, Victor roused us and we sat in the dining room area enjoying yet more food (spring rolls and rice noodles and some more fresh fruit) before receiving our gifts of rice-paper paintings, and signing the giant guest book.
We then zipped across the bay back to the dock, where we were met by some more amputee-beggars as well as our driver. Back at the hotel, Wendy went for a spa treatment session while Milton sat under a thatch umbrella and read on the beach. Wendy, being her usual engaging self, chatted with the salon-girl (who does it all) and learned more about the difficult life they all live here. She’s 36, the youngest of 10 children, makes $95/month, pays half that in rent and works sometimes 7 days a week in the high season.
We were both tired from our day at sea, so after dark we crawled into bed for the evening. Wendy finished reading “Martin Dressler” while Milton started “A Mapmaker’s Dream”