"Living alone on the island has made me happier and more fulfilled," the 51-year-old from Cua Ong Ward in Quang Ninh province.
In 2017, while exploring the waters around the Co To archipelago, he stopped at Bay Sao, a cluster of seven small islands covering about one hectare in the Co To Special Administrative Zone, more than 40 km from the mainland.
He was immediately captivated by its unspoiled scenery and tranquility. Each island looked different: some were covered in greenery, while white sandbars connected others at low tide.
No one lived there, and piles of trash had washed ashore, yet the vegetation remained lush. Winters were warmer than on the mainland, while summer nights were cool enough to require a blanket.
After returning four times that year, Hanh became increasingly determined to live there. In early 2018, after receiving permission from the authorities, he told his family about his decision.
His wife objected and threatened to divorce him. "I had made sure my wife and children were financially secure. I knew she threatened divorce because she was worried, not because she truly intended to leave," he says.
He had spent years abroad doing business. He sold his car, bought a motorboat, and gathered clothes, other supplies, water containers, a hoe, a knife, and a lighter before setting sail.
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| Life on Bay Sao. Photo courtesy of Bui Duc Hanh. |
In his early days there, he slept under a tarp on a flat stretch of land. During the day, he cast nets for fish, cleared trash from the beach and gathered bamboo and driftwood to make tables and chairs. At night, the island was pitch-black and silent except for the waves.
He did not leave the place for four months.
Once his shelter was relatively stable, he went back to the mainland for seedlings and brought chickens and puppies to the island. A year later, he built a sturdy hut.
In 2020, he transported construction materials from the mainland, built a house and invested hundreds of millions of dong in a solar power system. With no one else around, he taught himself to handle every task, including repairing equipment damaged by the salty air.
Fresh water was his greatest challenge. While walking around the island, Hanh noticed a crack in a cliff where plants grew particularly well. Suspecting an underground water source, he dug a well and found water. He now stores well water and rainwater in 200-liter containers, providing enough for his daily needs and irrigation.
To grow his own food, he took lemongrass, taro, pineapple, cassava, and banana plants to the island.
He gathered soil by hand, sifting it from among the rocks until he had enough to plant crops. Because the soil lacked nutrients, he collected dead shore crabs from the beach each day and buried them around the plants as fertilizer.
His garden now produces a variety of vegetables. The banana plants bear fruit year-round, yielding more than he can eat.
To support himself, Hanh has a permit to farm sea snails and sea cucumbers in the surrounding waters, and he also fishes.
His hundreds of chickens forage for food but are supplemented with feed brought from the mainland. His more than 30 dogs catch fish and occasionally eat rice scraps he gives them. "I live alone, but I’m not afraid or sad. I simply enjoy it," he says.
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| Bui Duc Hanh travels to Bay Sao by boat. Photo courtesy of Bui Duc Hanh. |
During his second summer there, Hanh’s wife spent two weeks on Bay Sao and gradually accepted his decision. Once his life had become stable, he reconnected with close friends. Some occasionally visit and bring supplies, but no one has stayed longer than two weeks.
Island life also brings weather-related risks. Hanh returns to the mainland for shelter before major storms. Super Typhoon Yagi swept through in 2024, toppling trees, tearing the roof of his house and sending his animals running in all directions.
He later spent several months repairing the damage.
The hardest part remains the isolation. For days at a time, the only sounds are the waves and his animals. Some visitors tell him his life looks comfortable, but all have declined his invitation to stay for a month because they cannot tolerate the isolation, he says.
Hanh now returns to the mainland for a few days every month or two before heading back to Bay Sao. Recently, his older brother and nephew have occasionally joined him to help fish and care for the animals.
After eight years, Hanh feels healthier and more relaxed. Even so, he does not advise others to follow his way of life. "Everyone has their own definition of happiness and different living circumstances."
Hanh plans to remain on Bay Sao for as long as his health allows. Senior Lt. Tran Quang Thanh, the police officer responsible for Dong Tien Hamlet in the Co To Special Administrative Zone, says Hanh moved to Bay Sao after winning a tender to develop a marine business there.
The regular presence of residents on outlying islands helps maintain security and protect national sovereignty, he adds.
Hanh keeps a stack of Vietnamese flags in his small house, all given to him by friends. The salty wind and sun quickly wear them out, but a red flag with a yellow star flies over Bay Sao every day.
Life on Bay Sao. Video courtesy of Bui Duc Hanh.