In the heart of Halong Bay, a few floating villages still resist the advance of tourism and modernity; communities of fishermen holding on to a way of life shaped by water and traditions.
In Bai Tu Long, an unspoiled corner of the Bay, the Vung Vieng Floating Village stands as one of the last of these living worlds. Here, everything moves with the tide: homes that rise and fall, lives that drift yet stand still. It is where we met Ms. Yen’s, a fisherwoman born and raised on the water. Here is her story.
Born with the sea, bound to its tide: A Halong Bay Floating Village Life
Yen has spent all 37 years of her life on the waters of the Bay, just as her parents did, and her grandparents before them. For generations, her family has been part of a close-knit community that lives entirely on the water. Life on land has never been part of their story; their only ties to the shore are brief visits to restock essential supplies before returning to the rhythm of the sea.
When asked what only those who live on the water truly understand, she genuinely answered: “Nothing that others living on land couldn’t see for themselves, if they know how to look. But we, fishermen of the bay, learn to listen to nature’s signals. A certain shadow pattern forming on the water’s surface can warn of an approaching storm; subtle ripples can reveal the presence of fish. These are things anyone can witness, but few understand.”

People in Vung Vieng floating villlage know the bay like the back of their hand. But still, the sea doesn’t always feel familiar. Its moods can still change without warning, abrupt typhoons and unpredictable tropical storms, serve as a constant reminder of how vulnerable human can be, even when prepared.
Where the water demands resilience, yet gives in return
Yet, when asked about the most challenging fact about living and working in the bay, typhoon were not the first go-to answer given by Yen. She took a surprising option: “Even if we live surrounded by water, the lack of fresh drinking water is a daily challenge. Food is easy to transport from the shore, and the sea is abundant in fish, but fresh water is harder to transport in the heart of the bay. That’s what I struggle with most when fishing in the mists of HaLong: the thirst.’ For Yen, the rain is not feared but wished: rainwater is a vital alternative, carefully collected and conserved. “

Another challenge mentioned lies in the very structures that keep life afloat. Constant exposure to shifting tides and harsh conditions causes anything built on the water to deteriorate far more quickly than on land. Working conditions are harsh too, especially in the hottest months, when temperatures can reach 40°C.
But “What the sea takes, it also gives back,” Mrs. Yen added. While life on the water is undeniably demanding, the bay continues to provide for those who call it home.
Fishing remains the primary way of life, sustained by the rich marine ecosystem of Bai Tu Long Bay. Sheltered by the bay’s natural embrace, the waters here remain relatively calm and ideal for oyster farming and pearl cultivation. It is a craft the local community, including Mrs. Yen and her family, has come to master over generations, shaping not only their way of life but also the identity of Halong.

In many ways, this same natural richness extends beyond livelihood. The landscapes that sustain them also draw growing attention, gradually weaving tourism into the fabric of daily life. For communities like Mrs. Yen’s, this offers an additional stream of income, one that sits alongside long-held traditions, helping to support and sustain life on the water.
A Fishing Life in Bai Tu Long Bay: An Option for New Generations?
When asked about the future of water-based communities, Mrs. Yen paused, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. “In my family, I strongly believe that I’m the last generation that will live on the water. My older children already live and work in Ha Long City, and I feel it will be the same for my younger son. But this is also good news for my children, as while I was born and raised in a floating village, I do believe a steadier, easier, and better life awaits on land. Living on the water is definitely harder, not for the faint-hearted.”

Through this brief encounter with Mrs. Yen, a clearer picture of life on the bay emerges, marked by hardship yet deeply alive. It is a way of living shaped by constant adaptation, where people move in quiet harmony with nature.
Journey to Bai Tu Long aboard Heritage Line ‘Violet’ to connect more closely with local fishermen life while visiting Vung Vien village, and maybe meet on your own Ms. Yen.
Acknowledgement: We would like to extend our sincere thanks to Mr. Khang Vu of our Bai Tu Long team and Mrs. Yen, a local fisherwoman, for their invaluable contributions to this article.