Beneath the sea surface of Hon Chong

Every morning at Hon Chong beach in Kien Luong commune, as the sun rises above the water, divers silently descend into the sea to search for oysters, crabs, snails, clams, and fish to make a living. This arduous and seemingly insignificant work at sea has supported many coastal families for decades.

A circular ripple spread across the sea at Hon Chong. Beneath the clear water, a diver was carefully prying open the crevices in the rocks to separate the oysters clinging to them. On the rocky embankment, a man stood looking out at the sea, then pointed and said, "That's him, Six. He just dived down there."

The man was Duong Moi Ut (46 years old), residing in Ba Trai hamlet, Kien Luong commune. He explained that his friend had gone into the water first, "He dived for about a minute, then surfaced to catch his breath before diving again." From the shore, all that could be seen were small ripples spreading out and then disappearing. But beneath the water, the diver was searching every crevice in the rocks for a means of livelihood.

Morning at Hang Duong Beach

The morning at Hang Duong beach has the characteristic gentle charm of the western coast. A breeze from the open sea carries a mild salty scent. The water's surface ripples with only small waves. From the beach, looking out into the distance, one can see Hon Phu Tu Island standing silently amidst the azure sea and sky. Offshore are scattered clusters of large and small rocky islands. A few fishing boats bob gently with the rhythm of the waves.

The author is seen chatting with Mr. Duong Moi Ut (on the right). Photo: LANG NHAN

Earlier, I met Uncle Ut at a small cafe by the road leading down to the beach. The owner called out to him as he started his motorbike: "Uncle Ut, going diving early today?" He turned around, smiled, and drove straight towards the sea.

I asked the owner of the shop, "What is that man diving for?"

She replied, "They dive to catch oysters, crabs, and frogfish. That's how they make a living."

The brief answer piqued my curiosity, so I followed the small path to the beach.

On the grass near the stone embankment, Uncle Ut sat looking out at the sea. Beside him was a faded plastic container that had been with him for many years. He pointed to the container and said, "I won't go home until this container is full today."

I asked, "Is this box full of about ten kilograms of seafood?"

He smiled and shook his head: "It's over twenty kilograms."

"If the barrel is full, it must make a lot of money, right?", I asked further.

He nodded: "A full box costs over 1 million dong."

Anh Út recounted that he used to live in Minh Lương, Châu Thành district, Kiên Giang province – the full name before the merger of provinces and communes, abolishing the district level. After getting married, he moved to Ba Trại hamlet, Bình An commune, Kiên Lương district (now Ba Trại hamlet, Kiên Lương commune) to live and has been involved in sea diving for over 20 years.

He said, "I feel so sad if I don't go diving every day."

I asked, "Are you sad because you miss the sea?"

He laughed loudly: "It's not about missing the sea. If I don't go diving, I won't have any money?"

He smiled, but his eyes were still fixed on the sea. He recounted that his eldest son had been drafted into military service and had just left to join the army. The younger one was still in school. The money for his children's tuition, books, and the family's living expenses largely depended on his diving trips. He said, "Sometimes, when the sea is rough and we have to stay home for a few days, we're always short of money."

Making a living from diving trips.

According to Mr. Ut, each day of diving earns him at least 300,000 VND. On lucky days, he can earn 500,000 - 700,000 VND. Some days he's even lucky enough to earn over 1 million VND. He said, "Sometimes, when we find a lot of oysters, we can fill a bucket in just a few hours of diving."

The oysters clung tightly to the rocks. The diver had to pry them off by hand. The sea rocks were as sharp as knives. He held out his calloused hand in front of me. There were many small scars on his fingers. He said, "The rocks underwater are very sharp. Oyster cuts on the hands are common."

A little while later, the diver surfaced. Uncle Ut pointed and said, "See? That's Six."

The man out at sea took a few deep breaths and then dived back down.

Uncle Ut explained: "I've gotten used to diving. I hold my breath for about a minute each time."

In the Kien Luong coastal area, there are quite a few people who make a living as divers. Each person usually has familiar rocky areas where they find food. Ut pointed out to sea and said, "To do this job, you have to know how to read the tides." According to him, when the water is clear and the sea is calm, there are more seafood to feed on. He added, "It's very difficult to find anything when the water is murky."

But nowadays, few young people want to pursue scuba diving as a career. He said, "This job is tough, so fewer young people are interested in it."

At home, his wife does odd jobs buying and selling. On days when the sea is rough and he can't go diving, he stays home to help his wife with the shop or mend fishing nets. When he has more free time, he invites his friends to go diving for a few drinks while waiting for the tide. He said, "My wife is used to it. If she sees me carrying a bucket in the morning, she knows I'm going to the beach that day. And if I leave the house, she knows my friends are getting together. Men need to relax with friends when they have nothing to do. She doesn't blame me."

I asked him what he wished for his children. My youngest brother thought for a moment and then said, "I just hope my eldest son finishes his military service and finds a stable job. And that the younger one studies hard so she can find a good job, one that's less difficult than mine."

Having said that, Uncle Ut stood up, picked up the old plastic bucket, and walked to the embankment. He slowly slid down the rocks and went straight towards the man who was diving. I watched Uncle Ut. The sun was now higher in the sky. The sunlight stretched across the sea. The man named Sau dived down again. Small waves spread out and then gradually disappeared.

I stood gazing out at the sea. The sea was still calm. Within my sight, there were now two divers. Beneath the blue water, the divers silently searched for crabs, oysters, snails, and fish. From diving trips like that morning, many children from the coastal area have grown up, leaving these rocky shores to go to school, to work, and to find a less arduous life than their fathers.

ERRANT

Source: https://baoangiang.com.vn/duoi-lan-nuoc-bien-hon-chong-a478960.html