Vietnam's Bay of Dragons

Annie maneuvered the boat as slowly and close to the cliff as possible. Matt stood on the inflatable hull, ready to leap at a moment’s notice. A rolling wave lifted the kayak and Matt was raised a good three feet higher, putting him in position to latch on to the rock. As she backpaddled out of the way, the current caught Annie and carried her through the arch in a joyous ride. Matt climbed higher, until he was about 40 feet above the water. Then, he intentionally let go of the rock and sailed through the air back into the sea. “Yeah, that was awesome. You guys gotta try it.”

Annie paddled in and picked him up. Before moving on, she and I both gave it a go, too. The climb required powerful moves on overhanging, exquisite rock. It was perfect.

Paddling into a secluded bay, we dropped a small anchor and went about erecting our home on the water. Using portaledges (cot-like frames for sleeping on cliff faces during multi-day climbs), we secured the two kayaks six feet apart. This provided a secure frame so the boats couldn’t separate, and a platform for us to sleep on. For shelter, we set up tents and slid the portaledges inside, suspended only eight inches above the water. Inside, I felt like a kid in a floating fort. The gentle wave action and thin material provided a waterbed effect that melted away any uncertainties about our new home. Nevertheless, everyone kept a knife handy in case we had to cut our way out of a sinking tent. We christened our floating home Floatzilla. It left us free to paddle and explore, never having to worry about finding a place to land and make camp.

Five days later, our boat-for-hire was due back to pick us up. True to his word, our captain, Tam, and crew arrived right on time for our noon pickup at the place where we had been dropped off. They were excited to see us, welcoming us aboard with broad smiles and treating us to a lunch of steamed rice and veggies. Back on the mainland, the weather had taken a turn for the worse. Cold, dark skies hung low, and locals were bundled up from head to toe. We restocked our supply of water and food and said good-bye to Janet, who was leaving us for a prearranged rendezvous with other friends in the warmer south. The next morning our remaining threesome loaded all our gear onto the back of motorbikes to be hauled down to the docks. We had hired Tam to take us back out again, but to a different area.

Since it was Tet, the Vietnamese New Year, everyone was preparing for celebration. It was the perfect time to escape, when the police were preoccupied with partygoers. Motoring slowly away from civilization, we passed directly under the watchful eye of a navy destroyer. We hid our gear and camera equipment inside and made ourselves as inconspicuous as possible. Tam and his crew looked uneasy as we puttered by, clearly afraid about the possibility of getting caught. But we passed the patrol without incident and made our way out into the maze of islands.