Life in Cat Ba Island

Haiphong region, Vietnam

By Francisco Morais

July 11^th, 2019

Cát Bà is the largest island of the archipelago that borders Lan Hạ Bay, a place where limestone cliffs rise from the sea and fishing villages float just offshore. Half of the island is protected as a National Park, home to rare ecosystems and the critically endangered Cát Bà langur. The rest is a mix of small towns, harbors, and winding roads that open suddenly to views of the bay. Life here is inseparable from the water — ferries, fishing boats, and kayaks all tracing the same channels that have sustained communities for generations.

The island’s history is tied to both survival and strategy. Once a fishing outpost, Cát Bà also played a role during the wars of the 20th century, when its caves and forests were used as shelters and hideouts. Today, it has become a gateway for travelers heading to Ha Long Bay, but it retains its own identity: less polished, more lived-in, a working island where tourism and tradition coexist. The floating villages, with their houses on wooden rafts, remain one of the most striking images — families raising fish and shellfish while children paddle between homes as if the sea were a street.

The local market in Cát Bà town is where the island’s daily rhythm is most visible. At dawn, stalls overflow with freshly caught fish, squid, and crabs brought in from the night’s boats, while baskets of tropical fruit and vegetables arrive from the mainland. The air is thick with the scent of herbs, grilled snacks, and the salt of the sea. Fishermen bargain over nets, women arrange piles of shellfish on wooden tables, and children weave through the crowd carrying bags for their families. It is noisy, crowded, and alive — a reminder that beyond the hotels and tour boats, Cát Bà remains a working island, sustained by the same waters that draw travelers here.

Cát Bà is also a place of contrasts. The town at the southern tip has grown quickly, with hotels, restaurants, and neon signs lining the waterfront. Yet just a short ride away, the National Park offers silence: dense forests, hidden lakes, and trails that climb to panoramic views of the bay. The island’s biodiversity is extraordinary — mangroves, coral reefs, and limestone forests all compressed into a relatively small space, making it one of Vietnam’s most important ecological reserves.

Evenings on Cát Bà are slower. Fishing boats return with their catch, the harbor fills with the smell of grilled seafood, and the limestone cliffs fade into silhouettes against the setting sun. Life here is not about landmarks but about balance — between land and sea, tradition and change, nature and people. To spend time on Cát Bà is to understand that the island is not just a stop on the way to Ha Long Bay, but a world of its own, shaped by water, stone, and resilience.

Leaving Cát Bà means retracing the path back to the mainland — a sequence of connections that feels like a journey in itself. A taxi winds down to the town center, followed by a bus that shuttles passengers to the pier. From there, a crowded ferry pushes across the channel, packed with locals, travelers, and motorbikes balanced in every corner. On the other side, the road leads to Cát Bi Airport in Hải Phòng, where a short flight carries you over the mountains to Đà Nẵng. The final stretch is a transfer south along the coast, past beaches and rice fields, until the lanterns of Hội An appear. It is a day of movement — land, sea, and air — that mirrors the contrasts of Vietnam itself, where every transition brings a new rhythm and a new landscape.