An Ordinary Morning on Vietnam’s Central Coast

Just offshore, the system revealed itself. Large wooden fishing boats sat heavy in the water, nets still full. Between them and the beach, small coracle boats shuttled back and forth, each carrying young men and a fresh load of fish. They moved efficiently—paddling, unloading, turning back again. No one wasted time.

Near me, a woman crouched beside several buckets, each holding a different species. She barely looked up as buyers approached. Across from her, another woman lifted a fish by the gills, inspected it carefully, and dropped it back into the pile.

Behind them, two teenage boys dragged empty buckets back toward the water. A brightly painted coracle bumped ashore, and within seconds hands reached in. Full buckets were hauled out, empties tossed back, ready to be filled again.

There’s almost nothing written about Xuan Hai online. Most articles point elsewhere—to Tam Tien in Quang Nam, now a popular stop for photography tours, or the beach near Mui Ne, where the boats still come in but the market itself has thinned into little more than a shadow of what it once was. Xuan Hai rarely makes the lists.

Fishing is the backbone of Vietnam’s central coast. Travel long enough along this stretch and the patterns repeat themselves: anchovies laid out to dry on wooden racks, mackerel hauled in buckets that strain plastic handles, harbors that go quiet by mid-morning. Every town has its version, yet most visitors never see it.

On our first visit months earlier, we didn’t know what to expect. The receptionist at our hotel in Quy Nhon laughed when I asked about the market. Yes, she said in broken English, they catch fish there. Maybe there is a market. But you have to go early. Not every day.

That uncertainty drew us in. We left at five in the morning, riding out half-awake. By the time we reached Xuan Hai, the beach was already full. We stood there stunned. Neither of us had ever seen that much fish in one place. As the sun rose, the buckets thinned, boats lightened, and the beach emptied almost as fast as it had filled.

We left that morning convinced we’d seen something rare.

Months later, we were back in Quy Nhon again, this time on assignment. Almost immediately, the memory of Xuan Hai resurfaced. I wanted to believe what we’d seen couldn’t possibly repeat itself every day.

But it did.

The same beach. The same negotiations. The same boats rocking just offshore. Only the fish were different.

By mid-morning, the market dissolved again. Buckets stacked. Motorbikes disappeared down alleys. By the time most of Quy Nhon was awake, the work at Xuan Hai was already done.

If this is what an ordinary morning looks like here, the real question isn’t whether the market appears every day.

It’s how long the sea can keep supplying it.

How to visit: From Quy Nhon, rent a private car with driver (around 1million vnd) or take your own motorbike for the 15km trip south to Xuan Hai. Leave early to arrive before dawn. After the market, head into the village for benh xeo breakfast at Xuan Hai Market. For more information on the area, see our full guide to Quy Nhon.