This is one of the loveliest places on earth — a bay full of rocky islands, so breathtakingly beautiful that tourists come from all over the world to see it. There are dozens, if not hundreds, of boats on Ha Long Bay to take them on cruises that might last two or three nights, or just a few hours.
Some boats are modern; some are old. Some are pretty basic; others are mind-bogglingly luxurious. From simple sampans to 4-deck palaces, they’re all made of brown wood. Or they were, until a few years ago there was a bureaucratic re-shuffle, and a new official was put in charge of the bay.
The new guy decided all boats should be white.
The boat owners were aghast. The boats had always been brown. They’re made of wood; wood is brown; what’s the problem?
Well, there never was an explanation, but the bureaucrat was adamant. White. Right now. Or else.
Obviously the boatmen had to comply. And they did…some of them with the occasional flash of cunning that leaves you open-mouthed with admiration, and typically evolves after generations in an authoritarian state.
One morning, sitting on our cabin’s tiny deck, we noticed the creamy white wooden panelling was peeling at the edges. I took a closer look, and picked at it with a fingernail. It wasn’t paint — it was stick-on plastic wallpaper. The same stuff covered the wheelhouse, and every other surface above the water line. It was very convincing, and it was white…but, of course, a lot easier to remove than marine-quality paint.
I couldn’t stop smiling, because it made perfect sense. The boatmen aren’t idiots. They’ve been here for countless generations, and they know perfectly well the weather isn’t the only thing that can change overnight, so they take a long-term view. Policies alter, bureaucrats come and go, and when they do, the boatmen will be ready. I’m betting those boats will be brown again. Very quickly.