For generations, the people of Nam O, nestled at the foot of Hai Van Pass, have been born into a land where the Nam O rocky reefs stand as a steadfast guardian before the sea. They firmly believe that the reefs, the forests, and the ocean have existed since the dawn of time. Centuries ago, their ancestors planted stakes here, built villages, and ventured out to sea, riding the waves in their relentless pursuit of livelihood. This enduring journey—of people and land—has continued for hundreds of years. Through it all, the Nam O rocky reefs have stood as silent witnesses to the village’s transformation, from its days as a wild, untamed land to its evolution in step with the tides of modern development.

The Nam O rocky reefs, like the outstretched wings of a phoenix, shield the coastal village of the same name from the fierce waves and strong winds. Photo: Xuan Son

The Phoenix Wings of Hoa O

Every time we pass through the coastal village of Nam O (Hoa Hiep Nam Ward, Lien Chieu District), our conversations with the seasoned fishermen inevitably touch on an old verse: “Chan cung hinh Lo Hac trieu duong/ Dong phuong tuong Tra Son tac an.” (The “Chan” sign has Lo Hac Mountain peak bowing to the rising sun / Tra Son stands as a protective barrier in the east.) In the minds of the villagers, names like Lo Hac Mountain, Mom Hac, Hon Phung, the Forbidden Mountain, the sacred forest, and Ganh forest all evoke the image of Nam O’s rugged reefs—a raw and timeless remnant of the land once called Hoa O, the village’s ancient name.

These verses are the ancestors’ depiction of Lo Hac Mountain and Xuan Son Mountain, extracted from the funerary text "Tien hien trieu co" of Nam O Village, dating back to the first half of the 19^th century. According to historian Dang Phuong Tru, a native of Nam O, in his book "Nam O and Its Tales" (published by Da Nang Publishing House, 2022), the name Xuan Son originally referred to Hon Quy—now known as Xuan Duong Mountain. Meanwhile, Lo Hac was another name for the Nam O Reef, a rugged mountain ridge stretching from west to east, protruding from the mainland into the sea.

Shaped by geological shifts over time, Nam O Reef Mountain takes the form of a phoenix spreading its wings toward the open sea. The villagers call it Hon Phung (Phoenix Islet), while the section extending into the water is known as Mom Hac (Crane’s Beak). As the Crane’s Beak plunges beneath the waves, it is named Lo Hac (Submerged Crane), as referenced in the ancient verse. Across the body of Hon Phung, a lush forest thrives, with towering ancient trees standing resilient against time.

One time, we climbed to the top of a high-rise building just a short walk from Nam O fishing village. From that vantage point, looking toward the rocky reef, we could truly appreciate nature’s masterful design and understand why it was called Hon Phung (Phoenix Islet). The reef sat in the center, flanked by two gracefully curved stretches of sandy shore, mirroring the outstretched wings of a phoenix soaring toward the sea. Whether on one wing or the other, it was still Nam O—a land infused with the soul of the sea, a place where generations had built their livelihoods on this ancient land of Hoa O. Intrigued by this way of life, I turned to the seasoned fisherman, Mr. Le Van Cuu, and asked about their means of survival.

Now in his eighties, having spent a lifetime in the village, Mr. Le Van Cuu, like countless generations before him, was "born to see Nam O’s rocky reef standing firm before the sea" To the people here, the reef, the forest, and the ocean have always been there—witnesses to centuries of history. Their ancestors drove stakes into this land, built homes, braved the waves, and cast their nets into the open sea, forging a living in harmony with nature. This enduring journey of man and land has continued for hundreds of years. Through it all, Nam O’s rocky reef has stood as a silent witness, bearing testimony to the village’s transformation—from an untamed wilderness to its transformation with modern development.

I followed an old fisherman, who preferred to remain unnamed, out to the moss-covered reef—now at its most beautiful season. Every step he took from his home to the shore seemed to carry a piece of memory. "When I was a child," he reminisced, "I would often come to the reef, climbing over the rocky outcrops. As I got older, my friends and I would retreat into the forest to study and play… It was different back then—no cameras, no internet. Everything we saw was just as it was, raw and untouched. The mountains were simply mountains, the forests remained forests, and the sea was just the sea…"

In those days, inheriting the seafaring livelihood passed down from their ancestors, the people of Nam O regarded the rocky reef and the vast sea as nature’s generous gift. According to Mr. Le Van Cuu, the blessings of nature provided the village with anchovies for making fish sauce, crabs and shrimp for the marketplace, and the renowned specialties of seaweed and agar, treasured near and far.

As documented in "Nam O and Its Stories", since the Nguyen dynasty, the Nam O rocky reef was regarded as a forbidden mountain—where cutting trees and extracting stones were strictly forbidden. This regulation was upheld by generations of Nam O villagers, not merely out of compliance but as a reflection of their deep reverence for the sacredness of the Ganh Forest and their awareness of the need to preserve the village’s green landscape. This belief is deeply rooted in ancient legends and folklore, passed down through generations—stories of the Tien Hien Trieu Co ancestral tomb, the shrine of Chua Tien Than Nu, the remnants of Mieu Vong Huyen Tran Cong Chua, and the myths of the forest guardian spirits.

Alongside the distinctive shape of Hon Phung, these natural elements form a sacred geomantic landscape that has safeguarded Nam O’s ancient forest and forbidden mountain for centuries, keeping them untouched by human encroachment. According to author Dang Phuong Tru, before 1975, when the Nam O rocky reef became a popular retreat for residents of Da Nang and nearby regions, makeshift eateries and rest stops sprang up along Bai Lang, Bai Cua, and the moss-covered reefs to cater to visitors. However, not a single establishment was ever built within the sacred forest, preserving its untamed spirit.

Mr. Le Van Cuu shared that what was once the sacred forest and forbidden mountain now serves as a protective forest, standing as a natural barrier between Nam O fishing village and the powerful waves of the open sea. To the villagers, the forest safeguards them, and in return, they safeguard the forest. This belief is upheld not only in the past but also in the present.

Today, as discussions around tourism and infrastructure development unfold, particularly with the Lien Chieu District People’s Committee actively implementing the Nam O Community-Based Tourism Development Project, local residents hold onto the hope that the village’s natural landscape, including the rocky reef and moss-covered shores, will be preserved and harmonized with the urban expansion of the near future. To them, the reef and the surrounding seascape are a heritage—not just of the past, not merely of today, but of countless generations to come.

Reporting by XUAN SON – Translating by HONG VAN