In November, Co To entered the early days of winter with the characteristic chill of a remote island. The cold did not bite the skin or cut through the flesh, but it was enough to make people wear an extra windbreaker. On the road leading from the special zone center to the fish pier, the boat lights flickered through the thin mist. In the distance, the sea rolled in waves as the monsoon arrived. Wooden boats were just returning from night fishing trips, their calls mingling with the rhythmic waves hitting the pier, creating a familiar symphony of island life.

The early morning fish market in Co To was not always bustling, but in winter it was livelier than usual. On the pier, voices called out, laughter mixed with the snapping sound of swimming crabs, and the roar of engine motors. All of it combined into a lively rhythm, in stark contrast to the quiet of the late-afternoon sunsets.

Occasionally, a cold gust made sellers pull their hands back, but only for a few seconds before they bent down to sort the fish, deciding which to sell immediately, which to freeze, and which to deliver to waiting traders. Life on the island was like that; every drop of sweat carried the salt of a lifetime attached to the sea.

Amid this lively scene, the image of Mrs. Pham Thi Nga, a woman from Area 2 of Co To Special Zone, appeared as an authentic slice of “sea life.” She has been in the seafood fishing profession for twenty years, long enough to understand the sea’s patterns and witness the changes of its waters.

The 14-meter wooden boat is the biggest asset that she and her husband have carefully saved for, still bravely cutting through waves every day. Depending on the weather, sometimes she spends a whole week at sea; when the sea is rough, she goes out and returns the same day. The familiar fishing grounds lie about 15 nautical miles from shore, where shrimp, crabs, and swimming crabs abound. To someone on land, it is a distant journey, but for Mrs. Nga, it is a familiar waterway.

Seafood catches are not always abundant. Each trip is a gamble against weather, the vast waves, and the uncertainties of the profession. But Mrs. Nga remains calm, understanding, loving, and respectful of the sea. She says, “The sea gives to us, so we must also know how to protect it. Our family uses only large-mesh nets to avoid catching small shrimp or fish. We don’t use destructive traps because we know catching like that only benefits the short term; in the long run, the sea’s resources would be depleted.”

This simple thinking embodies the sustainable philosophy that Quang Ninh Province is pursuing. Notably, whenever she encounters bottles, plastic bags, or any floating debris, she uses a net to pull it onto the boat and take it ashore for disposal. Partly out of environmental awareness, partly because debris in the net can ruin an entire fishing session. Cleaning up trash is thus also protecting her livelihood.

On calm sea days with good catches, she sells fresh crabs or baskets full of swimming crabs, earning enough income to cover family expenses. On rough sea days, the catch is smaller, but she never complains. Her voice, as gentle as the sea breeze, says: “This job is like that, up and down with the weather. But as long as I have strength, I will stay at sea.”

Mrs. Nga’s story is just one of hundreds of similar stories on the island. The sea-based livelihood is not only about fish and shrimp, but also about the rhythm of life, traditions, and the memories of generations of Co To people, from when the island was still wild to when it became a world-renowned tourist destination.

Leaving the fish pier at sunrise, I took the only boat to Thanh Lan Island. The atmosphere here seemed more vibrant as it entered the mackerel season, the most crucial fishing period for locals in the year’s final months. The mackerel season lasts from November to early December, coinciding with strong northeast winds bringing a lingering chill across the island.

Baskets of mackerel are passed hand to hand so quickly that only the sound of water trickling onto the stone floor can be heard, leaving sparkling silver streaks. Fresh mackerel, small-bodied with a characteristic silver-white sheen, are poured into large trays, washed, and dried.

Ms. Nguyen Thi Nguyet, owner of a purchasing facility in Hamlet 2, skillfully scooped fish while calling out over the waves: “It’s mackerel season now, my family collects 3–4 tons a day. When the boats arrive, we must work immediately, or we won’t have time to dry the fish. I hire 7–8 workers, and once the sun is out, we spread the fish evenly on trays to catch the sunlight.”

Mackerel is not just a commercial product. For Thanh Lan residents, it is a “gift of the sea,” a blessing that arrives only once a year but warms the hearts of the entire fishing village. Each tray of fish glistening under the winter sun seems to convey the sea’s message: despite storms and waves, the sea remembers its way back to the island’s children.

Calloused hands turn fish on drying racks, sun-kissed faces glow as the boat hulls fill with fish; all are images of perseverance and hard work. Their joy is not loud, it is only a bright smile after weighing a large basket, or a warm gaze watching the fish slowly dry in the sun.

On a sunny Sunday morning, Co To is bathed in sunlight, the smell of sea salt still lingering in the wind. On the smooth sand of Tinh Yeu Beach, groups of residents, officials, and youth volunteers gathered for the “Green Sunday” activity. This is no longer a short-term campaign but has become a cultural habit, like a small ritual that the whole island voluntarily organizes every weekend to restore the sea’s purity.

Among the crowd is Van Huu Anh Duc, 11 years old, small in stature but diligent, with a face speckled with sweat. Duc wears oversized gloves, carefully picking up cans and plastic bags to bring to the collection point. “Because the sea is my home. If the sea is clean, more tourists will come. I want people to see Co To getting more beautiful every day,” Duc said with a pure smile.

This small generation contributes greatly to efforts to protect the island’s marine environment. Protecting the sea is not a grand action; it begins with the sweat of every resident.

Full trash bags are tied up. Sections of the beach reveal their original white sand. It is like a beautiful painting, making people believe that if an official marine protected area is established in the future, its foundation will be here, in the hearts of those who believe in the value of perseverance and strong will.

After the morning cleanup, I met Pham Van Duc, Director of Co To Exploration Co., Ltd., a pioneer in integrating marine conservation with sustainable livelihoods and tourism. Duc shared his journey into the sea.

“Protecting the sea from the shore is one thing. Protecting it underwater is another,” Duc began. He recounted his early days volunteering in a scientific project restoring degraded coral reefs. The project, titled “Research on the status and experimental restoration of degraded coral reefs in the Quang Ninh sea area using micro-fragmentation,” was implemented from 2023 to 2026 by Master Phung Van Gioi and the Vietnam-Russia Tropical Center.

The coral-planting site is not far from the shore, in the waters of Hong Hai Hamlet. On an area of 500 m², the team installed 10 stainless steel frames and attached 500 coral fragments, half Acropora and half Tubinaria, species that play a critical role but have severely declined in Co To – Tran Island waters.

He recounted days when the sea was milky and visibility underwater was almost zero. Sometimes, ocean debris wrapped around coral frames overnight, and the team had to dive for hours to untangle netting and fishing lines. Team members were stung by jellyfish or scraped on rocks. But then, spotting new coral buds after a survey session made all the difficulties seem to melt with the waves.

“Every day I see them grow, I go back to the sea,” Duc said, eyes gazing toward the waves still crashing onshore. His work has now extended to the community. Many tourists come to Co To not only to swim but also to experience diving to collect seabed trash. Those coral fragments have become the “spiritual children” of scientists, residents, and visitors, paving the way for eco-scientific tourism where economic benefits and conservation complement each other.

From Duc’s story, I met Dinh Duc Minh, Vice Chairman of Co To Special Zone People’s Committee. Before the two-tier administration, he was Head of the Van Don District Department of Natural Resources and Environment. Having closely monitored environmental issues for years, he candidly said, “This is the biggest challenge for a locality dependent on tourism and fishing like Co To.”

Every day, the special zone generates 12–15 tons of household waste. During tourist season, the amount rises to 25–30 tons. This does not include ocean waste such as nets, foam floats, plastics, and bottles that wash ashore after monsoons or major storms. A clean beach one day could become a “trash beach” overnight.

According to Minh, the locality has made efforts. Since 2020, an air-pressure waste incineration plant has been operational, processing 65–70% of the waste. Units and armed forces stationed on the island are always ready to clean the beaches weekly. Organizations actively promote the “Co To without plastic waste” movement, reducing plastic waste by over 50%.

Lodging service providers have begun reducing plastic bottle use and switching to glass. Tourism boat operators remind visitors not to throw trash into the sea. Fishermen collect floating waste during fishing trips as part of their professional responsibility. Children talk about the sea as if it were a family member.

This attitude lays the foundation for the Co To Special Zone to prepare for a brighter future: an official marine protected area. The reserve is built not only on natural resources but also on the community itself—people who understand the sea, live from it, and are willing to protect it daily.

Minh stated frankly: “Co To – Tran Island Marine Protected Area is not just a scientific or administrative story. It is a story of trust that if we protect the sea today, we secure the future for the entire special zone. Everyone contributes. Whether we do a lot or a little is not important. What matters is that the sea sees we do not give up.”

His words naturally connect early-morning trash collectors, divers caring for coral fragments, and authorities tackling waste management, tourism development, and livelihood protection. All are writing a new story of the gem island, about a sea protected not by barbed wire but by the community’s consciousness.

Co To Special Zone is entering a new milestone on the path to becoming a provincial-level marine protected area. Based on Decision 389/QD-TTg in 2024 approving the plan to preserve and exploit fisheries, Decision 1539/QD-TTg in 2024 on the expansion and establishment of new marine protected areas, and input from ministries and departments—Department of Natural Resources and Environment, Department of Finance, Department of Culture, Sports and Tourism, Department of Science and Technology—these are the first bricks laying the foundation for sustainable, modern management.

But the ultimate foundation comes from the people. Community meetings with 45 participants and 300 survey responses showed 100% consensus. These numbers show that Co To residents understand and are willing to follow the conservation path, as long as they are heard, included, and allowed to continue making a living on their sea.

Phan Thanh Nghi, Deputy Director of the Department, shared: “Co To – Tran Island not only has beautiful scenery. It is home to the most important marine ecosystems in the province, even in northern Vietnam. From coral reefs, tidal flats, mangrove forests, to habitats of migratory aquatic species. If we do not protect them now, in a few years we will face irreversible loss.”

According to the draft submitted to the provincial People’s Committee, establishing the marine protected area requires a total capital of VND 181.8 billion for 2025–2030, divided into two phases: the first phase invests nearly VND 46 billion to build management infrastructure, monitoring equipment, and patrol means; the second phase invests over VND 135 billion to complete the monitoring system, restore ecosystems, and reorganize community livelihoods.

“The cost is high, but investing in conservation is a long-term profitable investment for the future. Without ecosystems, without resources, tourism and the marine economy will gradually decline,” Nghi said.

No one can expect coral reefs to recover with just a few stainless steel frames, or fish stocks to return with only a few pledges. The sea requires time, effort, and clear regulations to prevent overexploitation.

Ms. Pham Thi Nga said, “I support the establishment of the protected area. Then my family will not fish in that area but choose farther zones. However, for residents with small boats who do not fish far from shore, the government needs to support vocational transition so they can stabilize their livelihoods.”

Her concerns were included in the project file by the Department of Natural Resources and Environment. From alternative livelihood programs and job transitions to co-management models, this is not a “closed” reserve but a protected area in the spirit of “protect to develop.”

According to the draft, the Co To – Tran Island Marine Protected Area will have three functional zones: strict protection, ecological restoration, and buffer zone.

When the draft is finalized, every line and word is edited to meet legal, scientific, and public consensus standards. Once officially established, Co To will enter a new stage, a special zone where conservation and development do not run parallel but merge into a familiar path.