Sunset on Tri Nguyen Island

That afternoon, I set foot on Tri Nguyen Island just as the sun was beginning to set. The tranquil Nha Trang sea stretched out before me like a watercolor painting gradually transforming into the rich hues of sunset. The boat docked, waves lapping against the sides, gently like a greeting from the ocean. The sea breeze carried the salty scent of damp seaweed, softly caressing my face.

Tri Nguyen Island isn't vast, but every small path around the island reveals a unique aspect of life. I followed a winding, sloping path through fishing villages, where low-lying, weathered houses peeked out from behind banyan trees and ancient frangipani trees. In the cool shade, a small, simple shop made of corrugated iron nestled against a fence. From inside, the aroma of grilled squid pancakes sizzling over charcoal wafted through the air. The owner smiled kindly and invited my friend and me to sit on a small plastic chair, as if we were strangers visiting her. On a clay mold, small, round pancakes were cooking, the soft, translucent white rice flour rising like a thin cloth to embrace the fresh filling of squid rings just caught from the sea. The pancakes were served with a diluted fish sauce dip mixed with shredded mango and herbs picked from behind the house. The richness of the pancake, the chewy sweetness of the squid, the salty taste of the sea – all like a gentle whisper of the island.

Tri Nguyen Port. Photo: LE DUC DUONG

As the sun slowly sank behind the distant, hazy mountains, where a small, winding pass cast faint, shimmering car lights, the last rays of light cast shimmering streaks of color on the water's surface, reflecting the returning seagulls. Then, fishing boats began to head out to sea in search of squid and fish. Lights flickered on the roofs of the boats, like a farewell to the sunset… A distant song unexpectedly echoed in my heart: “When we parted, I walked along the harbor, the sea on one side and you on the other…” On the embankment, in the twilight shadows of the setting sun, women were busily cleaning… They seemed unperturbed by the sight of their loved ones' ships setting sail, but I knew that tomorrow morning they would wake up early to wait on the sandy beach for the faces, still wet from the rain, returning to the ship…

Following a few locals to the rocky beach near the edge of the sea – where evenings transform into a makeshift "snail eatery" for the island village. It's simple, just a few small plastic tables, some basins of fresh water for washing hands, and the light from fishing boats anchored in the distance. The sea breeze whispers. The smell of cooking smoke mingles with the aroma of fish sauce, garlic, and chili. A mother and daughter are grilling cone snails and other shellfish, while plates of grilled scallops with scallion oil and steamed clams with lemongrass are served, the steam rising and the aroma intoxicating.

Sitting by the seawall, holding a skewer of snails, I listened to the cheerful laughter of the fishermen, the gentle lapping of waves against the shore, and the soft bolero music playing from an old radio. The atmosphere was both wild and warm, like a simple slice of coastal life untouched by the hustle and bustle of city life. An old man poured me a glass of banana wine, saying, "Drink up, child, to warm yourself, to remember this sea for longer." Oh, it wasn't the aroma of the wine, but the words that resonated deeply in the heart of a visitor to this place.

As night falls, Tri Nguyen Island is enveloped in a peaceful cloak, with only the flickering lights offshore and the dim oil lamps illuminating the verandas. Fishing nets hang high in the yards, drying for the early morning fishing trip. The wind rustles through the thatched walls, the crickets chirp by the dry well – all combine to create a wordless, slow, and haunting symphony.

I left the island late at night. Looking back one last time, I saw the faint outline of the island in the lighthouse's glow. In my heart, Tri Nguyen Island was not just a stopover but a gentle, simple yet profound piece of life – where a piece of squid pancake, a plate of snails by the shore, or a smile from the locals was enough to captivate anyone who had visited. Nha Trang welcomed me as soon as I stepped ashore: a vibrant city, bustling with sounds and lights, but behind me, Tri Nguyen Island had begun to drift off into a hazy mist.

DUONG MY ANH

Source: https://baokhanhhoa.vn/van-hoa/sang-tac/202505/hoang-hon-tren-dao-tri-nguyen-d3017d1/