For hundreds of years Vietnamese living in coastal areas have thought of the East Sea as home.
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| Experienced fisherman Duong Van Dien looks out to sea from his home - Photo: Tuoi Tre |
With blood, sweat and tears, they have survived confrontations to carry on their ancestors’ fishing tradition.
Dien, a 60-year-old fisherman who knows almost every meter of the Hoang Sa (Paracels), says: “Those days we did not have GPS or stuff like that to explore the ocean; we only had compasses and boats. Very long ago there were fishermen in the islands. And long ago we spent time there when we were young.
“Fishing was easier those days: We went to Hoang Sa for a week and back to Danang to sell our catch. Vietnamese fishermen were very adept.”
Old memories float through his mind: “In 1982, when the hurricane season arrived earlier than normal in April, 60 vessels tied themselves together to form one giant raft to weather the storm.
“After leaving Hoang Sa, we would sail to Truong Sa (Spratly) archipelagos, which we consider our home and the soldiers as our close relatives.”
Dien passionately cites the name of each island, describing in details each military observation deck off the islands.
His happiest memories were of fishing in Hoang Sa. His most meaningful task had been to act as a messenger between the soldiers on the islands and their families on the mainland.
“Letters wrapped a lot of emotions, thoughts, contemplation, and a lot more.”
His glory days are behind him. He now lives in a three-stage house with his old memories.
“My biggest desire is to travel out there once to visit the site,” he says wistfully.
Horrible trips
Duong Van Huong, captain of a fishing vessel in Quang Ngai province, narrates the tale of a pirate raid.
“One dark night, a vessel with eight armed pirates hit our boat while we were sleeping. The men jumped in and ordered us to lie down and started to loot. I would have sett off explosives if they had shot one of us.
“One of the raiders pointed the gun at the head of a fisherman. The rest opened the cold storage and took all our catch.
“Almost 500 kilogramms of sea cucumbers and a lot of precious black corals were taken away. At that time my vessel had no GPS and we had only a little rice, pickled fish, and oil. We sailed towards Vung Tau. That was our most horrible trip ever.”
He laughs when asked if he ever feels fear. Maybe his fearlessness in the hearts of men like Huong and other fishermen is due to the ocean or a trait inherited from their ancestors.
He remembers vividly the day he was arrested by the Chinese when his vessel was trying to find a shelter to avoid hurricane Linfa in 2009.
“Those days were the hardest I have ever lived.”
He tells his wife to prepare things for his next fishing trip.
He has been taken in twice by the Chinese, but he continues to ride the waves.
For people like him, Hoang Sa and Truong Sa islands have become a part of themselves.
