The Dragon Legend of Ha Long Bay

Early in the morning, a small boat slips quietly between islands of rock. The water beside the boat is green as jade, smooth and cool. All around, thousands of rocks, large and small, rise straight up out of the sea. One looks like a sitting toad. One looks like a sail. Another looks like a little chick bending its head to drink. This is Ha Long Bay, in Quảng Ninh province.

Right next to Ha Long Bay lies another stretch of sea, called Bái Tử Long Bay. The two bays sit side by side, both full of pretty rock islands. But their names are curious. One is named for a mother dragon, the other for her brood of young dragons. The reason lies in a story that Vietnamese grandparents still tell, a gentle, warm legend.

It is only an old tale, retold through the years, not an event written down in the history books. But people have told it again and again, to explain why these two bays carry such lovely names.

The legend says that long, long ago, when the land of the Vietnamese was still young, invaders came from across the sea. They came in many boats, all heading straight for the shore. The people of the coast were worried. They did not know how to keep their villages safe.

High above, Heaven looked down and felt for those gentle people. So Heaven sent down a great Mother Dragon, with a whole brood of dragon children following behind. The Mother Dragon curved her long body and glided low over the water. Her children flew close around her. Every one of them was still small, with scales that shimmered like dew.

The Mother Dragon saw the invaders' boats far out at sea. She did not breathe fire, and she hurt no one. She simply opened her mouth a little. What came out was strange: not smoke, and not fire either. From her mouth flew countless jewels, round and sparkling, bright as drops of sunlight. Seeing this, the dragon children copied their mother. Each of them spat out a great many small jewels.

The jewels fell onto the sea. And then something wonderful happened. The moment a jewel touched the water, it turned to stone, and each jewel became an island. Big jewels became big islands, and small jewels became small ones. In the blink of an eye, a whole stretch of sea filled with rocky islands.

The islands joined one to the next, and the next, lining up in a long row. They stood shoulder to shoulder, like a tall stone wall towering over the open sea. The wall was beautiful, and it was also immensely strong.

When the invaders' boats sailed in, they found the wall of islands blocking their way. The boats could not get through. There was rock to the left, rock to the right, and rock straight ahead. The stone wall simply stood there in silence, sheltering the whole coast behind it.

The invaders looked at that vast wall of stone and knew they could never get in. So they had no choice but to turn their boats around. They sailed back out to the open sea and were gone. The coastal villages were at peace once more. The people cheered and looked up at the sky to thank the Mother Dragon and her children.

Anyone would expect the dragons, their task done, to fly back to Heaven. But that is not what happened. The legend says the Mother Dragon looked at the clear green sea and at the rocky islands she had just made. She felt such tenderness for them, such a pull to stay. Her children loved the cool water, and they kept swooping up and down, never wanting to leave.

So the Mother Dragon decided to stay. Her children stayed with her. The whole dragon family never went back to Heaven. Instead they made this gentle sea of islands their home, to watch over and protect the people here forever.

And here is the best part of the story. People gave the name Ha Long to the place where the Mother Dragon came down to land. Ha Long means descending dragon, the place where the Mother Dragon came down. The place where her children gathered around her became Bái Tử Long. That name means the place where the children came to attend their mother.

So today the two names, Ha Long and Bái Tử Long, carry this story with them. On one side is the mother, on the other her children, close together forever, never parting.

People also say there were a great many dragon children. An old folk song still remembers them. It goes:

Nine children follow their mother, streaming along. The youngest one has made up its mind not to follow.

It is hard not to feel for that tiny youngest dragon, so busy playing on its own. Yet in the end, the little one surely stays close, somewhere in its mother's sea.

As the boat glides through Ha Long Bay, look closely at the moss-green islands. In the old tale, each one is a jewel that the Mother Dragon and her children spat out long ago. That whole glittering sea is the gift she left behind. It is the gentle wall of stone that once sheltered the coast of Vietnam.

The water is still green as jade. The rock islands still stand in their rows, quiet and warm. And somewhere in the small waves lapping at their feet, the old song still seems to linger. Nine children follow their mother, it hums, on and on across the sea of the Mother Dragon and her young.