Having spent the first day of our three-day cruise on Ha Long Bay getting settled in, and working in an excursion to a cave and a kayaking expedition, and an evening cooking class (phew), we’re ready for the second day, a full day on the bay — or rather on two bays.

Kimberly is up on the sun deck at 6:00, yes that’s a.m., to join a tai chi class. Dennis doesn’t join this time, even though he does tai chi frequently. But this morning he’s a bit sluggish, so he remains a slug-a-bed until breakfast time, when we are seated next to, and become acquainted with, a couple from New Zealand.

After breakfast we catch a small boat to a bigger boat, seated next to young Ukrainian couple, who look like super models. We have time to chat with them, because this boat putters along toward Lanha Bay, which is a bit more remote, into a bit more open, and therefore choppier, waters. En route, we pass a little islet known as Man Head Island, because the side of it is carved out to resemble… well, you can guess. But it has been “carved” by natural forces — Man Head is not manmade. Some people say it resembles the Egyptian Sphinx. To us, its features appear perhaps more Native American.

Lanha (or Lan Ha) Bay is touted as a more tranquil alternative to Halong (or Ha Long) Bay, which gets far more visitors, and far more boats creating a cluster and clutter almost causing a traffic jam. Lanha, which boasts 400 karsts (limestone knob-shaped islets) of its own, as well as a few caves and some pristine beaches and crystal waters. But hey, we don’t have to choose between the two; we’re getting in both for the price of one.

Our vessel parks at a little cave, which we go aboard to check out. It isn’t nearly as large or as grand as the one we hiked through the day before, but it does have a massive collection of guano to boast about. On this little bit of mild spelunking we make the acquaintance of a few additional fellow outlanders, including a family from Spain and a Spanish fellow who urges us to visit China, because he’d found it fascinating (and surprisingly affordable) when he spent a few weeks there. (We’d actually been talking to him for a while on the boat, because he just came up to us and introduced himself and said he was curious about us because we looked interesting.)

The next stop is a beach, a deserted and inviting beach that is isolated, in comparison to the overcrowded beaches in the Ha Long hotspots. Except we don’t exactly go to the beach. Instead, the boat anchors about 500 yards away, and anyone who wants to swim to the beach is welcome to do so. But there are no takers. Instead, we just jump off the end of the boat and swim around it, creating our own swimming hole. Some hardy souls even jump off the second deck, a drop of about 15 feet. (We are prohibited, however, from jumping off the third deck; guess their insurance doesn’t cover that.) So even though we don’t actually set foot on the beach, we swim in sight of it, so we guess that counts.

Once we’ve finished our swim, we are served lunch on the boat. Since this boat evidently doesn’t have the galley capabilities of our cruise ship, lunch is rather light; and for us, it consists of a great deal of fried fare. They seem to think we Amurrcans all love it.

Then it’s on to the pearl farm where we rented kayaks the day before. This time, we’re taking a tour, as a guide shows us three types of oysters being groomed, and explained that it takes up to 8 years to cultivate a pearl.

Another lady demonstrates how to seed the oysters with grit, and how to pry them open and extract the pearls. If you’re guessing that there’s a showroom to display the finer specimens of the finished product, set in items of jewelry, you must be psychic. And if you twist their arm, they might sell you some. The most costly piece we saw, featuring a single large pearl, was priced at $3618; back in the States, it probably would go for two to three times that much.

After that, we make our way back “home” and get ready for dinner. Once again we see the canteen boat go by our ship, and the woman operating it tries to sell us junk food out our window, which is on the second deck. It’s tempting to spring for a snack just to see how she would transfer money and merchandise back and forth.

At dinner, we’re seated this time next to the young Ukrainian couple. We extend our sympathy for what is happening to their country, and they extend their sympathy for what is happening to ours. (Everyone we meet, from any country, expresses sympathy and shock for our government controlled by arrested criminals and arrested development.)

At one point during the middle of our chatting with them and stuffing our faces, the crew turn out the regular lights, flash some colored lights, bring out some lit candles — and sing a love song, This is quite a surprise. But not nearly as big a surprise as when they mosey over to our table carrying a cake and a sign that says LOVE, and wish the Ukrainians a happy anniversary. Everyone applauds, and the Ukrainians suck it up. Then they inform us discreetly that, um, they’re not even married.

It’s been quite a long and eventful day, and we’re ready to turn in and get a good night’s sleep to be ready for our final morning aboard. It’s just as well that we are unable to see into the future and learn that, ten days later, a tourist boat on this bay would capsize in a violent storm, killing 34 people. (It would be a much smaller boat, on a 3-hour day trip.) We definitely don’t need to know any such thing as we drift off to sleep to the gentle lapping of the waves.

Events occurred 7/9/2025