An Early Morning
It was about 6:30 when the rising noise stirred me from my deep slumber. I pulled back the curtains to find the fish market on the street below already buzzing with activity. The locals were sifting through the fresh catch being unloaded from the boats just offshore. Diem began to get ready, and I went downstairs to order a couple of Vietnamese coffees.
While I waited, I stepped outside to take a closer look at the market just off the porch—fishmongers scaling fish, weighing, and fabricating. The fish had all come in from the private small boat’s overnight catch, and in many instances, the catch was still flopping. After a quick inspection, I made my way back into the Inn and collected our coffee.
A Slow Start
The coffee didn’t do much in the way of motivating our day. We had no plans, nowhere to be, just a day in paradise. Wherever the moment carried us would be where we landed. It was a couple of hours still before we emerged from the Inn. Laying in the cool breeze with the sweet smell of the sea seemed, at least at the moment, to be the only thing worth doing. Eventually, the warmth of the day filled the room, and the feeling of hunger overcame my stomach.
We stepped out to the street to find the morning market mostly gone. Only a few mongers left trying to sell what little they had left. The squid catch had also been cleaned and laid out again in the sun, left to dry into the strong-flavored rigid sheets sold at markets all over Vietnam.
Vespa affinis – The Lesser Banded Hornet
As I looked more closely at the squid drying on their racks, I noticed something strange. The squid was being “cleaned” by what appeared to be hornets. They were hornets. They were known scientifically as Vespa affinis or the lesser banded hornet. I would discover that it is close to the Asian giant hornet that has caused so much intrigue lately in the US. It is said to pack a heck of a sting but has become relatively docile here on the island.
Its hornet relatives are spread out in many countries in Southern Asia, though Vespa affinis only seems to have a small population in Vietnam. Almost exclusively here in the small archipelago of Cu Lão Cham. Lesser banded Hornets are omnivorous, eating nectar, sap, fruit, and soft, freshly killed flesh. The Hornets swarm every morning and help the local ladies prepare their fresh squid for drying. Freshly caught squid are eviscerated and spread out on carts and trays. The hornets fly in to remove the soft gooey organ bits left behind. This aids in preventing petrification, as no salt is used. They were left alone to do their work. The Hornets get an easy meal, and in exchange, they leave us curious souls, alone and sting-free.
A Stroll Across Town
After a short inspection of the insect butchers, we made our way down the boardwalk. The daily ferry had not yet arrived, and the small town was quiet and peaceful. We walked down the street that ran parallel to the beach and took in the sights. We came across a lady breaking apart massive colonies of oysters with a rather ominous old cleaver. I stood fixated on the operation for some time. Then, sitting on a tiny plastic stool, she methodically and in reckless abandon broke the oysters apart against an old worn brick.
Diem and I continued past the oysters towards the southern end of the town. We were looking in the shops and restaurants for something to ease the hunger building within. Eventually we came to the very edge of the small island town. There was a slight turnaround with a giant sandbox at its center. A small awning made of a thatched roof beset to one side of the turnaround. All sitting in the shadow of an inn and restaurant called the Monkey bar. We walked onto the porch, and the owners showed us to a table overlooking the bay.
Banana Pancakes
You couldn’t have asked for a better breakfast view. The fishing boats had all anchored in the bay from their night expeditions, and the weather was just superb. A wonderful breeze kept the air manageable and pleasant. We ordered two bowls of Mi Quang and a banana pancake with local honey. We sat at the moment, slurping up the delicious noodle dish and dipping strips of pancake in the sweet wild island honey. I couldn’t help but hear the Jack Johnson song “banana pancakes” play in my mind.
Fisherman’s Harbor
After breakfast, we walked back to the Inn and gathered our motorbikes. We decided to do some more exploring, only this time we would head in the opposite direction from the previous day. As we made our way north out of town, we headed slightly inland and discovered an active monastery in the center of the island. Surrounded by fields with cattle, we viewed a few locals crossing a causeway towards the temple. A rather large lady Buddha statue stood next to the impressive pagoda. No doubt a replica of the Lady Buddha, which overlooks Da Nang.
Continuing back towards the coast, we rode into the adjacent fishing village. Finally, we came to the main harbor for the island. Many boats anchor just offshore in the bay in front of the town. However, this Harbor serves as a haven during times of solid seas and stormy weather. The Harbor was built with rather large sea walls than the central bay, undoubtedly keeping the fishing community around the HHarbor safe during rising waters. We made our way around the bend further out of town and stumbled onto another beautiful beach.
Bãi Ông Beach
More like a path, the road we were on came to an abrupt end short of the beach. Diem, dressed in a beautiful sundress, immediately jumped off the motorbike and bounded across massive boulders towards an old wooden dock. She wanted a few pictures on the pier with the open sea, so I waded out up to my neck to get some beautiful images. The water was a mesmerizing aquamarine and slightly chilly, which was terrific in the mounting heat. I did my best to get the shots she wanted. I think I did a pretty good job. She seemed happy with the results, and I was too.
The collection of photographs below are some of my favorite I’ve ever taken. It was just a perfect day, temperature, weather, everything. The photos came out better than I could have imagined. They were taken, however, with some difficulty. I am standing on my tiptoes on a rock with the waterline up to my chin in the more close-up images. But, I do believe the effort was well worth it.
After our mini photoshoot, we made our way over some rough terrain to the actual beach. There was another path that came in from the backside of the fishing village. It seemed odd that the main coastal road would stop short of the beach. Who knows. We paid to park the motorbike and found a couple of lounge chairs under a coconut tree.
A Strange Business Model
The beach is maintained by a park service that manages the island, and no businesses were allowed to operate here. What resulted was a few families that had held homes just off the beach for generations, running clandestine restaurants and beverage services. The family that lived in the house at the entrance dealing with the fees to visit the beach and were the ones who collected our price from parking the motorbike and entering. With nothing around, family members of the different houses would sit around the beach, and if you wanted a coke or a beer, they would run back to their home and get it for you.
Additionally, some would walk the beach with baskets filled with wrapped containers of fresh fruit and big bags filled with chips and other snacks. One family even brought out ropes strung through floats to rent. This was also where the speed boats would unload their day swimmers from the mainland. Every half hour or so, a couple of ships would load up and head back to Hoi An, and another round would show up, tossing out their tourists to swim, eat fruit, and have a few drinks on the beautiful beach. Other than that, there was not much around, save for one interesting spot.
A Beach Side Temple
I spotted a sandy, sun-parched temple near the beach, about fifty yards or so from the water. I had just finished a round of swimming and made the mistake of walking into the temple grounds barefoot. As soon as I stepped foot into the hard-surfaced courtyard, I regretted it. The ground was two hundred degrees if it wasn’t two thousand. A comical scene ensued of me bouncing around from shade to shade. Which there wasn’t much to be had in the noonday tropical sun.
The site was rather large. Probably an acre or more, and I took some time to try and get a sense of its size. The main entrance to the site held a rounded wall, again adorned with the local depiction of a tiger facing east. A Dragon decorated the entrance wall with a dragon on its western side, typical of local customs. The tiger represents the forest and jungles to the east. The dragon, a symbol of water in Vietnamese lore, represents the western seas and westerly flow of the rivers.
The main temple structure
The temple grounds were enclosed by a wall about three feet high and categorized by an even shorter wall. Several lesser worship altars were spread out around the site, with the main three-door temple at its center. I ran across the burning courtyard to the main temple and stepped inside. In front of each door was another altar. The two side altars were small and simple, while the central altar bore a large stone table and offering block. The main altar, adorned with the image of the phoenix, held candles, incense burners, vases, and other items.
The temple writing appeared to be Chữ Hán script. This hints at the temple construction taking place before 1919. Chữ Hán, similar in style to other character-based Asian languages, is derived from ancient Chinese script, used as the primary alphabet and language of Vietnam from about 100 BC until its abolition on the orders of the puppet Emperor Khai Dinh in 1919.
Though appearing neglected and in want of attention, the temple showed the telltale signs of recent activity. Fresh packs of incense and crackers, a matchbox, recently living flowers and a functioning light bulb. I took some time exploring the grounds, but the water was calling me. The heat was mounting in the Indochina sun, and it was time to get wet.
A Welcome Swim
I returned to the beach to find Diem relaxing in her beach chair, enjoying some fresh mango. I then made my way down to the water and back into the cool refreshing sea. The water was about as perfect a temperature as it could be. Just cool enough to satisfy and clear enough to see the bottom pretty far out. I bobbed in the water for over an hour, making friends with some other bathers.
Vu and his family had come in on one of the speed boats for a day swim. He was a high school teacher from Hanoi, and he had brought his family to Da Nang to enjoy a nice vacation during the summer school break. After quite some time in the water, I could feel my skin beginning to heat up, and I knew my sunscreen had worn off hours ago. I made my way back to our little shade spot, and we began to prepare to leave.
Back to the Village
Leaving the beach, we snaked our way around the Harbor and back through the fishermen’s village towards the main section of town. We stopped by a corner store first to get some detergent to wash a few clothes and made our way back to the Inn. After washing the beach off and putting on some fresh clothes, we decided it was time for a complete meal. The mango and coffee were long gone. We required something more satisfying.
Dan the Man
Diem and I made our way back to the street and began walking, looking for something to eat. It was sure to be seafood, as the island was just abundant in the bounty of the sea. We settled on a bit of spot a few doors down from our Inn called Dan Tri Restaurant. A lovely shaded table next to the sea, a great place to enjoy a relaxing lunch. Diem, as usual, did the talking. She knows I’ll eat anything that doesn’t eat me first, so she usually enjoys great latitude when ordering our meals.
The owners, Dan and his wife were incredible hosts. Everything is just so intimate here. We were, after all, eating on their front porch. But that’s how life is here. Sit down at a local street stall anywhere in Vietnam, and there is a good chance you’re eating in the owner’s house. It brings a very personal feel to the dining experience here, something I enjoy about life in Vietnam.
One of the Best Meals I’ve Ever Had
After some time conversing with Dan and the family, the plates started to arrive. Stewed cobia in broth with tomatoes, garlic, and mustard greens. Simple fried rice with nuoc cham. Delicious and straightforward enough, but the real stars of the meal were yet to come. As we sat and began to eat, our server brought a plate of baby whole squid drenched in chili caramel to the table. Followed by a dipping sauce made with chili, garlic, and fresh whole anchovies. Again followed by what I was only able to determine from a brief discussion to be “jungle vegetables.”
The squid was superb, perfectly cooked, melting like sweet chili butter when chewed. And that fresh anchovy sauce was sublime. I ended up eating the leftover sauce with a spoon. Natural fat boy behavior. It had a sweet heat, and the anchovy was incredibly fresh, lending an ocean essence to the sauce as oysters shucked right out of the sea. It was just incredible.
Some Interesting Vegetables
The vegetables, too, were some of the best I’ve ever had. After significant research, I determined the dish to be composed of three plants. Diplazium esculentum, a fern-like plant commonly used in Vietnamese cooking, is known in English simply as the vegetable fern. That one I knew as Diem loves the plant, and we cook it often. The other two I was less familiar with were Ceylon Spinach and morning glory, also known as water spinach.
It took some time to identify the water spinach included within. But, I would soon discover why. It is currently classified as an illegal species in the US, and its possession and sale are prohibited in many states. No wonder it was so unknown to me. Apparently, in the southern states and warm climates of the west, it is a nuisance species. If allowed to establish itself, it can choke out native plants and clog up waterways. Yet, it is abundant here, and all of the vegetables on the plate were harvested locally from the island jungle.
Six Leaf Tea
After we finished our lunch, Dan brought out another island treat. The island is home to a famous local beverage known as six-leaf tea. Six unique ingredients make up the tea, all harvested locally on the island. Repudiated to detoxify the blood, aid in digestion, and help promote all-around centering health. Diem and I enjoyed a few glasses as we sat in the building heat of the afternoon. Full and relaxed, we agreed to do a very Vietnamese thing. We went back to our room and slept the hot afternoon away. We were waiting for the island to come alive in the night.
A Night In the Village
It was about 6:30 when we finally stirred from our afternoon nap. The sun was quietly setting over the mountains, and the town was coming to life down on the street. I was surprisingly hungry. All the swimming and running around had worked up an appetite. A small restaurant a few doors down, next to Dan’s, owed me a cheeseburger.
Diem and I stopped at the quaint Lookout restaurant the previous day, but their supplies had not yet been fully replenished. Even though the lockdown was lifted nationwide months ago, the island only recently began receiving tourists. But the lady that ran the restaurant assured me that if I ate it, she would have a cheeseburger for me the following evening. Her sister was returning from a trip to the mainland to requisition supplies. She would have her sister bring the ingredients. I told her I’d see her the following evening.
A Little Dinner
As we headed out of the Inn, the village had turned into a fun little carnival atmosphere. Locals had set up grills on the streets, selling snacks, as their children rode bicycles and played up and down the strip. We made our way to the Corner Lookout, and as promised, a cheeseburger was on deck. Diem ordered a flatbread Banh mi from the cart in front of the restaurant, and we sat down at a table on the edge of the street. It was just a magical evening.
We finished eating and walked the dock under the almost full moon. The town lit up in bright neon colors that danced across the water as it lapped against the shore. The town’s children played on the dock in the calm evening while many older members took their evening walks in the fresh sea air. It indeed was a piece of heaven on earth. Not a worry in the world. It was just Diem and me on an island a world apart. No crowds of tourists, no Starbucks, nothing significant, yet so incredibly substantial.
For more posts on The Cham Islands, click here.
Or click here for the full video of our exploits on the day.
