Bright and early the next morning I join a daytrip to sail out into the bay before hopping into twin kayaks.
A gentle rain is falling, lending the bay a misty, otherworldly air out of which loom floating fishing villages. Dogs teeter at the edges of pontoons to bark as we pass, their owners untangling nets and presiding over breakfast fires.
Paddling out towards open water against the current is arduous, before our guide leads us straight at a karst wall.
At the last moment, I lie back in my kayak and drift through a tiny gap, my nose almost scraping the rocks due to the high tide.
And then we're inside a completely circular karst island, lush vegetation cascading down the sheer walls.
We spend the rest of the day circumnavigating the formations. Some give way to deep U-shaped lagoons, with squirrels leaping along stunted trees that cling improbably to the rock walls.
On another island, we pull our kayaks on to a small beach to pay our respects at a tiny temple, before plunging into the water to soothe our aching muscles.
By the afternoon, the clouds have cleared, and we are blinded by the sun, a glowing ball as it silhouettes the floating villages before vanishing.
But Cat Ba offers as much on land as it does from the water, I learn, as a local guide pops me on the back of his motorcycle the following day and whizzes me through drowsy villages up towards the national park, where we hike past houses abandoned during the American war of the 1970s.
We see mouse deer grazing calmly in a clearing, picking our way up steep mossy stone pathways, the walkway intertwined with vines and tree roots.
A sweaty clamber to the top rewards us with spectacular views of the island's rugged interior, layers upon layers of jutting green peaks swathed in the remaining trails of morning mist.
CHECKLIST
Getting there: Cathay Pacific offers daily connections to Hanoi via Hong Kong.
- AAP
