Between passion and livelihood, Vietnam’s sea anglers cast their lines

Back from a trip to Japan, the tourism executive brought no souvenirs home—only new fishing lines for himself and his father-in-law.

Dung is among a growing community of part-time sea anglers in Da Nang City, where casting a rod into the waters near the Hai Van Pass or Cu Lao Cham (Cham Island) has become more than a weekend hobby—it is a lifestyle.

“Once you’re out there, it’s like something gets into your blood,” he said.

“It’s peace. It’s quiet. Sometimes, we stay two or three days and don’t want to come back.”

Where passion meets a good catch

Unlike traditional fishermen, many of these anglers are engineers, office workers, or retirees who invest heavily in fishing boats, gear, and bait—not for a living, but for the love of the sea.

One of them, Nguyen Ngoc Ngan, once held an executive position at a transport company.

Now, he spends his mornings at sea, often alone with a rod, a speaker playing quiet music, and live bait he buys fresh from nearby fishing boats.

“I anchor about 10-20 nautical miles off Cu Lao Cham," Ngan said.

“I use live bait—ribbonfish and shrimp. I think it’s why I’m lucky. 

"I often hook big fish.”

On one recent four-day trip, Ngan caught four Spanish mackerels weighing a total of 47 kilograms.

A trader bought the haul as soon as he returned to shore, paying VND11 million (US$420).

Other trips have earned him more, including a time when a giant fish dragged his boat for hours before escaping just as he tried to land it.

Rod fishing to live — and live well

In coastal villages like Van Lang in Hoi An Dong Ward—formerly part of Quang Nam Province, which has been merged with Da Nang—rod fishing is more than a hobby.

It has become both a livelihood and lifestyle.

Veteran angler Nguyen Nhe, 68, has been going to sea since he was 13.

Once a deckhand, he now owns a small, modified boat with a canopy and storage for food, gas, clean water, and even a radio.

“Each month I take four to six trips,” he said.

“The season runs from after the Lunar New Year holiday to late August.

“Last year, I made nearly VND300 million [$11,480] just from rod fishing.”

His wife tracks every catch and sale in a small notebook, he added with a laugh.

A recent trip in June brought him 15kg of mackerel, 30kg of barracuda, and 20kg of snapper—earning him VND11 million.

“It’s not a fortune,” he said, “but it’s enough. I don’t do tourism, I just love the sea.”

The waters between the Hai Van Pass and Cu Lao Cham are known for their abundance—mackerel, snapper, barracuda, and more.

In January last year, Nguyen Tung of Bai Huong Village on Cu Lao Cham caught a 43kg grouper just over a nautical mile from shore.

It sold immediately for VND9 million ($344).

A similar catch in Nam O—a 39kg grouper—sold for over VND10 million ($382).

Such stories have become common among Da Nang’s sea anglers, where chance encounters with massive fish make headlines—and memories.

A sustainable rhythm

Most days, Nhe’s boat rests quietly near his home, just across from the nipa palm groves of Cam Thanh — far from the tourist bustle of Hoi An.

Like many anglers in Hoi An and Cu Lao Cham, he follows the rhythms of the sea rather than a set schedule.

Instead of casting massive nets or chasing distant waters, they prefer rod fishing and shallow diving close to shore — a quieter, more sustainable way to work.

In this fashion, some 30 small boats dot the coast each day around Cu Lao Cham.

Staying nearby allows fishers to remain close to family, earn a modest income, and comply with marine conservation rules that limit harvests.

Their restrained methods help protect marine ecosystems while providing steady returns — part of a growing shift in Vietnam toward sustainable fishing practices.