Story: Thai Nga
Photos: Thai Viet Hoan
At low tide, the sea at Vung Tau withdraws just enough to reveal a hidden path to Hon Ba, where nature and belief meet.
At the foot of Small Mountain, beneath the sea of Vung Tau, lies a band of rugged stones revealed only at low tide. In a stretch of water where waves roll in from offshore and rebound off Nghinh Phong Cape, the stone path appears like a promise kept by the tide, guiding cautious footsteps through the surf toward the stillness of Hon Ba.
When the ocean briefly parts
Most of the time, Hon Ba is a small rocky islet standing alone amid silver-crested waves, a few hundred meters offshore. But at low tide, the sea follows its own rhythm and quietly retreats, revealing a passage that links the island to the mainland.
Unlike the smooth white sand path at Diep Son Island in Khanh Hoa, which curves beneath the sea like a silk ribbon and evokes the romance of an on-screen love story, the path to Hon Ba is a rugged maze of stones, a challenge in itself. These rocks, encrusted with razor-sharp oyster shells, rise above the water for only a few short hours on certain days, in rhythm with the tide, like fleeting favors granted by the sea god.
Crossing this path requires caution and a bit of luck. We had to pay close attention to the tide schedule in the area before heading to the island. As the sea gradually receded, faint dark rocks began to emerge beneath the water. Only when the tide had fully withdrawn did the “secret passage” truly rise from the sea, linking the sandy stretch below Small Mountain to Hon Ba. We stepped carefully onto the large, shell-crusted rocks, beginning an unforgettable experience. Walking on the seabed felt strangely surreal, as though our footsteps were briefly claiming a space owned by the sea. The sensation came from the sound of our feet stirring the rock pools underfoot, the steady slap of the waves, and the warm humidity rising from the damp stones under the sun. We felt both small in the vastness around us and calm as we stood before the sacred shrine on Hon Ba.
Where faith meets the sea
Once on the island, looking back toward the mainland, Vung Tau appears transformed. Along Thuy Van Street, high-rise buildings and modern hotels stand shoulder to shoulder under the blazing sun, while Back Beach curves gently, dotted with colorful parasols like bright mushrooms on the sand. From this distance, the bustling seaside city feels both near and far, as if the sea wind and waves hold its energy at bay, creating a sense of deep quiet on this small rocky isle.
At the heart of the island stands Hon Ba Shrine, the spiritual lifeblood of Vung Tau’s fishing community. Dating back to the late 18th century, it began as a small shrine dedicated to Thuy Long Than Nu, the Water Dragon Goddess. For those whose lives are bound to the sea, this protective deity has long been a spiritual anchor, guiding them through rough waters and bringing them safely home. To this day, Vung Tau’s fishermen still come here to pray for peace before each voyage offshore.
From the shrine’s courtyard, looking back toward the mainland and Tao Phung Peak, the Christ statue’s outstretched arms appear to shelter the land and sky. In this open, breezy space, strands of incense seem to move with the sound of the waves, dissolving into the stillness of the rocky isle. An ancient shrine facing an iconic Catholic monument creates a quiet harmony of faiths. Boundaries blur, leaving only a sense of communion between earth and sky, and sea and mountain. Amid nature’s uncertainties, this place feels at peace.
As the waves slowly began to fill the gaps between the rocks, we joined the stream of worshippers hastily leaving Hon Ba. The rising tide erased every trace of the path, yet the secret passage remains, like a sacred bridge across the open sea.
