Some seasoned fishermen squinted and laughed heartily when we asked about the saying, “In the third lunar month, even the old women set sail.” They explained that this belief is well known among those familiar with the sea, as this time of year brings calm skies, gentle waves, and tranquil waters—making it the perfect season to prepare for a voyage.

Fishing boats set sail from Au Thuyen and Tho Quang Fishing Port. Photo: Huynh Van Truyen

The third lunar month, when waves lap against the boat

I sat with them by the shore, and listened to stories told in voices made hoarse by years of sun and sea. Nearly 80 years old, Le Van Truoc, a retired fisherman from Man Thai Ward, Son Tra District, no longer sets sail. Yet every morning, he still rises early to swim a few laps in the sea—an old habit from his youth.

Though he no longer has the strength to steer his boat with the tides, he cannot part from the ocean, nor can he live without the sound of waves greeting him each morning. "A lifetime spent with the sea makes my heart restless every third lunar month," he said. "Back in the day, this was the season when the whole village bustled with excitement. The men set sail for the open waters, while the women gathered by the shore to rake clams and untangle nets. When the sea was calm, even the old women would hop onto the boats with their children and grandchildren, venturing out just a little—just to get a taste of the open sea," he chuckled when his eyes gleamed with distant memories.

Sitting nearby, Mrs. Nguyen Thi Le (70 years old) joined the conversation. “Back in the day, I used to go out to sea with the fishing boats too. But not to cast nets, I was there to help with cooking for the crew. The sea in March is beautiful, with gentle sunshine and mild winds. Sailing during this time, there was nothing to worry about.” She recalled how, in her younger years, every trip offshore filled her with excitement. March brings calm waters, and the long journeys often return with bountiful catches.

When the boat reached the shore, she would hurry to untangle the nets, sort the fish, dry them under the sun, and gather small shrimp to sell at the market. She said that’s just how it is for the women in a fishing village. Even if they don’t go out to sea, they are always busy with work after each trip, and their lives are tied to the rhythm of the waves all year round. Though she no longer sails like before, she still keeps her morning ritual—walking quietly along the water’s edge, letting her bare feet sink into the sand. Sometimes, she sits for hours beside the round bamboo boats, watching the gentle waves roll in, lost in memories of her youth. "In the past, after Tet, the sea would be rough, with towering waves. But by March, the skies would clear, the water would warm, and the waves would soften. For us fishermen, this was always the most eagerly awaited time of the year," she said.

These days, from Man Thai Beach, the golden sunlight shimmers across the sea, where fishing boats bob gently on the waves. The air carries the unmistakable scent of the ocean—salty, crisp, and tinged with the warmth of spring sunshine. Mr. Truoc pointed toward the horizon, where a boat had just set sail, and spoke softly, “In the past, when the sea was rough, people would warn one another not to venture out. But the third lunar month is different—the sky is calm, the water is still, and the waves lap gently against the boats. Even the elderly, who usually stayed ashore, would find the courage to join a trip out to sea.”

From a folk perspective

For fishing villages, the saying “In the third lunar month, even old women set sail” is believed to be a wisdom passed down through generations, distilled from the ancestral knowledge of reading the sea. To them, every wave and gust of wind carries signals that only those deeply attuned to the ocean can interpret.

With over 20 years of experience at sea, Mr. Nguyen Van Xuan, captain of fishing boat ĐNa 91070 from Nai Hien Dong Ward, Son Tra District, affirmed that the third lunar month marks the transition when the Northeast monsoon weakens while the Southwest monsoon has yet to set in. During this time, the weather is sunny, with little rain, light winds, and calm seas. “It’s one of the safest months for sailing, with minimal risk of storms or unexpected rough waters. Favorable conditions allow boats to travel farther and fish more effectively. More importantly, this is the peak season for anchovies, mackerel, and sardines, offering fishermen the chance for bountiful catches,” he shared.

Over time, fishermen have developed an impressive ability to predict the weather by observing changes in the water and sea breeze. In the third lunar month, the ocean turns to a clear, vibrant blue, the waves ripple gently, and the sky remains mostly cloudless with soft sunlight—signs that the sea is at its most favorable for sailing. Mr. Xuan added, “In the first and second lunar months, the waves are still rough, and the monsoon winds can be an obstacle. However, by the third month, the water become noticeably calmer. That’s when we, the fishing community, know that the prime fishing season has begun.”

The folk wisdom of coastal communities is largely based on keen observations of natural phenomena—wind, lightning, waves, clouds, the moon, stars, and tides. Proverbs such as “If lightning flickers like ropes and pans, expect either a storm or rain” and “Whoever is fishing out at sea/ when red clouds rise, row back to shore in time” have long served as practical guides for those who make their living at sea. Building on this reasoning, cultural researcher Võ Van Hoe suggests that the saying “In the third lunar month, even old women set sail” not only reflects favorable weather conditions but also carries a deeper meaning about the way of life in coastal communities.

According to him, this proverb is not only common in central coastal fishing villages but can also be found in the folk language of many other seaside regions. It reflects the meticulous observations of fishermen before each voyage. "Coastal communities rely on the sea for their livelihood, staying connected to it year-round, but they don’t set sail in just any season. This proverb not only reflects natural conditions but also carries a vivid folk meaning—if even old women, symbolizing the most fragile members of society, can venture out to sea, then it must be the safest and most ideal time for fishermen," Mr. Hoe explained.

The sea in the third lunar month is not only calm and ideal for sailing but also marks a period of abundance, as many fish and shrimp species thrive during this time. Warm currents carry schools of fish closer to shore, creating prime conditions for bountiful catches. Mr. Hoe believes this phenomenon is no coincidence but rather the result of centuries of careful observation and experience of coastal residents.

According to him, the proverb also reflects the fishermen’s optimistic mindset and deep love for the sea and their craft. They believe that when the sea is calm, anyone can set sail—just as in life, when opportunities arise, anyone has the chance to seize them. This simple yet profound philosophy embodies the close-knit relationship between humans, nature, and the vast ocean.

As we spoke with the seasoned fishermen, one question frequently arose: Could it be that the timing of the Whale Worship Festival, traditionally held in the second and third lunar months, was determined by the same belief captured in the proverb “In the third month, even old women set sail”? It seems fitting that the festival takes place when the sea has calmed, the winds have softened, and the waters are teeming with fish—an ideal time to pray for a prosperous fishing season. This is also when fishermen express their deep gratitude to Nam Hai God, seeking divine blessings for safe voyages and bountiful hauls. In this solemn and sacred atmosphere, rituals such as offerings, processions, and traditional “ba trao” chanting are not merely prayers for good fortune. They are time-honored cultural traditions, passed down through generations, reflecting the enduring bond between coastal communities and the vast sea that sustains them.

Reporting by TIEU YEN – Translating by HONG VAN