It takes three hours by boat to cross Van Phong Bay from Nha Trang to Son Dung Island. As the boat approaches the shore, a little fishing village appears behind the shady coconut trees that line the white beaches.

Since the sand slopes a bit and there is no wharf, passengers can make the short hop from the boat to the shore in basket boats, or coracles as they are known elsewhere, or simply jump off and wade through the clear water.

Early settlers

An old tale still told by the village elders has it that several fishermen were shipwrecked on Son Dung after surviving a storm and decided to settle down on the island as there was fresh water, fruit on the trees, and fish in the sea.

It took only a short time for the castaways to build a village using the natural materials at hand. They ate whatever was available, and made their clothes from leaves.

According to 70-year-old village patriarch Dinh Van Nam, only 14 households with 50 people live on Son Dung these days, five of which are new families who came here five years ago as part of an economic development program.

Most of the islanders are dirt poor and seem to have nothing in the way of entertainment. They fish during the day and shut their doors early in the evening. Most of them don’t even care how old they are.

“I’m about 18 or so,”said local Nguyen Chut Chit. He has a girlfriend in Van Gia but, since they are two hours apart by boat, they rarely meet and cannot keep in touch by mail as Chit can’t read or write.

A proper education is out of the question for the village kids as there is only one classroom, built and run by local coastguards. Of the 20 inhabitants aged 16 to 23, most are illiterate.

Isolated

The islands’ isolation means the inhabitants must travel 18 miles across the sea to buy basic necessities on the mainland.

There is nothing you could call a road on Son Dung, just narrow tracks like the one curving along the beach which is submerged at high tide.

Walking along paths paved with sea shells and sea sponge is the only way to get around. Don’t go looking for a “xe om” or motorbike taxi as there isn’t one motorcycle on the island, in fact not even a bicycle.

Its primitive nature makes Son Dung the perfect escape for stressed-out city folk. Forget your mobiles as there is no coverage and, if you take your hi-tech gadgets, be sure to charge them beforehand as there is no electricity either.

It’s not exactly Robinson Crusoe land but it certainly is lacking in the mod-cons department.

The beautiful beaches, fresh breeze and interesting rock formations are enough for an excellent day out. Make sure to pack your swimsuit as the blue sea is irresistible.

What’s so surprising is that Son Dung is surrounded by salt water yet there is fresh water just under your feet. It’s hard to believe when you alight on the shore but any doubts are dispelled as soon as the village kids dig down to arm’s length and fresh water starts spurting out.

Thanks to the islanders’ religious beliefs, the beaches of Son Dung are kept scrupulously clean to protect the groundwater, which geologists say has been streaming down from under the island’s hills for thousands of years.

If you do visit, don’t miss out on the seacooking feasts on the beach. Son Dung doesn’t have the sort of fancy restaurants you get in Vung Tau or Nha Trang, but some of the locals will rustle up a generous meal of fresh shellfish raised in cages out in the sea.

For a complete experience, rent a mat, sit on the sand dunes behind the village, and shoot the breeze with your friends while enjoying grilled or steamed shellfish with citronella and mackerel rice gruel, or any other of the islanders’ culinary specialties.

Reported by Le Han – Hong Hanh