This massive old fellow stands near “Woodhouse”, the Scouts’ property near Stirling, and I’m sure it predates European settlement.
How I imagine a cold morning somewhere in South Australia, with a pale sun just beginning to burn off the fog.
High in the mountains of Vietnam, near the border with China, is Sapa. It’s a growing tourist spot where every square metre of mountain-side is terraced and cultivated to rice. What’s too steep for terraces is planted to corn, and what’s steeper still, is forest.
I chatted to the owner of this wooden fishing boat as he scraped and painted. It was built in the 1980’s, and regularly takes him and his crew 150 kilometres out to sea, long-line fishing for a week at a time.
In the morning, after a warm night on board the junk on Halong Bay, we saw several fishing boats like this. A family survives on what they catch, and they live on board.
Halong Bay; anyone who visits Vietnam should see Halong Bay, and stay overnight on a junk, as we did. We sat here, watching the colour of the sky becoming slowly deeper, and the forested limestone pinnacles disappearing into the mist, as one lone fisherman puttered home. The red sails belonged to another overnight junk.
On visit to Vietnam we stayed overnight on Halong Bay, and were rowed in a tiny woven-bamboo boat through floating villages. The fisher-people here live every day on the water, in huts on pontoons that float on blue plastic oil drums.