I’ve seen the sea from many corners of the country, but returning to Da Bac Island - a cluster of islets located in Khanh Binh Tay commune, Tran Van Thoi district, Ca Mau - I realized the southwestern coast of our homeland carries a beauty all its own

The seawater here isn’t the deep blue of the central coast, nor are there white sands and golden sunshine. Instead, the sea wears a muted, sediment-rich brown, glimmering with silver under the midday sun, as wave after wave stretches endlessly into the distance. Near the river mouths where the waters meet the sea, boats crowd together in tight clusters. The fishing vessels are painted in bright shades of blue, red, and yellow, and at the bow of each boat, a pair of vivid “eyes” stares ahead to guide the way. Atop each deck flutters the red flag with a golden star - the sacred symbol of Vietnam.

This journey back to the sea wasn’t planned. After years away, I found Da Bac Island even more beautiful than I can ever recall. For seasoned travellers like me, there’s always something new to seek out in this place. Yet for my friends, who were seeing the sea here for the first time, everything felt fresh, exciting, and worth capturing - perfect for snapping photos and picking the best one to post on Facebook.

The rocky outcrops stretch into the sea, where waves lap gently against them. The evening breeze is soft and calm, the sea lies still. In the distance, fishing boats drift slowly across the water, so slow they seem frozen between sea and sky. This familiar scene is born from the lives of hardworking locals. Something deep down inside me knowing that, hidden behind the beauty of this natural painting, behind those boats adrift in the dusky glow, lies the daily struggle for survival - the burden of livelihood, the worries of putting food on the table, and the quiet resilience of the people of this land.

As the day drew to a close, the sunset draped the sea in its warm embrace. The sun, glowing red like the yolk of a salted egg, slowly descended toward the horizon, about to vanish into the sea. Sky and water seemed to merge into one. I found myself wishing the sun would set faster, my anticipation growing with each moment. Though time slipped past unnoticed - in just the brief moment I turned to chat with a friend about Ong Ngo Islet, the sun had already disappeared beneath the waves. What lingered in me was a quiet sense of longing and regret.