"Boat Leaving"

The final day of Black April 1975

On this day, forty-nine years ago, Saigon fell.

The ramifications for America were vast and are still being felt in myriad ways.

For millions of South Vietnamese, the effects were also far-reaching and profoundly different. They lost their home, a promise of a safe future, and for those who fled to America, their connections to the land and family and ancestors they loved. They were leaving and there was no foreseeable future in which they would return.

One of the South Vietnamese in my father’s evacuation party described April 30:

We were on this huge ship. It was the first time in my life I was on the ocean—the big ocean in a ship that felt so small out there. The deck was so empty and so quiet.* The sun was down already. It was so quiet. There were no other boats in sight and no one knew what would happen or what we could do.

I don’t know who started it, but they began to sing this song, Thuyền Viễn Xứ, Boat Leaving. It expressed all the sorrow in our hearts. We were leaving our homeland, going to a strange place and our families were behind us. We did not know when we would see each other again.

The song captured all we were feeling.

This musician passed away from COVID-19 during the pandemic.

*It wasn’t until May 1st that the American Challenger met up with other refugees at Vung Tau and the conditions became remarkably more crowded and chaotic.

Lyrics (Gemini Translate):

Distant Boat | Poem by Huyền Chi, music by Phạm Duy (1952)

Verse 1

Mist rises over the sea today, Willow branches droop, the shore in disarray. Pink clouds blend with the sky's glow, Waves on the Đà Giang River, boat to a foreign land, go.

Chorus

Oh boat! Distant land, far away, Once passed by, a desolate shore did stay. Ho ơi! A voice that echoes through time, A distant source, an evening rain, returning from afar, in rhyme.

Verse 2

Looking back to the old path, the old land so far, Life's rhythm of sorrow, lost steps, wandering afar. Turning back towards the village of Đà Giang, tears well up with strong, An old mother sits silently, her snowy hair, longing for her son, all wrong.

Chorus

Today, sending a message to the old country, Knowing that no amount of love can be fully, The high sky sinks down to the world below, Knowing that there is so much sorrow in a foreign land, aglow.

Verse 3

Dense mist rises, incense in the air, Willows droop their branches, casting shadows by the river, there. Today on the shore of a thousand paths, A distant boat, casting off its anchor, sets off on its path.

Chorus

Oh boat! Distant land, far away, Once passed by, a desolate shore did stay. Ho ơi! A voice that echoes through time, A distant source, an evening rain, returning from afar, in rhyme.

Outro

Distant boat, distant land, far away, Leaving behind the old country, on a new path today.

My heart goes out to all those affected by the war, from all walks of life. While there is no way to compare and contrast the effects of the experiences, in the words of author Steve Trimm, the war victimized all participants in one way or another.

More from his book Walking Wounded, Men’s Lives During and Since the Vietnam War to come over the summer.

Thank you for reading. For the month of “Black April” I’ve reduced the price of my book on Amazon to just $11.99. Please consider gifting a copy to a friend or a library that might find some benefit in the history of Vietnam.

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Until next time,
Kat ❦

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