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This spread: Sunrise over Halong Bay.

Ed and I glided past an oyster farm on stilts and then began our slow return to the Emeraude. As our paddles dipped in and out of the sea, the heavy tropical heat faded and a soft breeze blew in, while a soccer ball-sized pink jellyfish floated past. Climbing or no climbing, Halong Bay had my full attention.

 ONE MAN’S CURIOSITYThe history of the Emeraude is a tad roman-tic. Not in the common sense, but in its depth, and to this day in its fairy tale ending. The ship would likely be lost to the annals of mari-time history if not for French entrepreneur Eric Merlin. In December 1999, Merlin was perusing the St. Ouen flea market in Paris for

“T“The rocks! We’re gettin’ too close to the rocks,” Ed shouted back to me in his Brook-lyn accent. We were, and it was exactly what I wanted. Ed and I were in a yellow double sea-kayak paddling around a horseshoe cove in Halong Bay, Vietnam. We had set off from our cruise ship, the Emeraude, half an hour ear-lier.Towering limestone walls curved around us like the Roman Coliseum.

I had first seen Halong Bay—a UNESCO World Heritage Site— in a rock climbing film. Being an avid climber, I promised myself that I’d visit one day.   And there I was, mere feet from perfect white-grey limestone and not only was I without my climbing shoes, but my partner was afraid to get close enough for

me to touch the rock. I quickly forgot about climbing though, as we paddled out of the cove and found ourselves bathed in the un-believably sharp light of the mid-May sunset.

The pale limestone karsts glowed golden and the jade water lapped lazily against our small watercraft. We stopped paddling si-multaneously—as if on cue—and took in the scene before us: Our ship, the Emeraude, a working replica of an early 1900s paddle steamer, sat anchored to the sea floor. The last rays of sunshine blasted horizontally over the layered thumbs of jungle-topped islets on the horizon. Other passengers splashed and laughed gleefully in the calm water off the boat's stern.

The Jewel of Halong BayHistory and luxury on one of the world’s most captivating seascapes.

WORDS AND PHOTOS COLM FITZGERALD

postcards from French colonial Indochina to add to his collection. In a box labeled “Indo-chine,” he found three postcards dated 1916, 1917 and 1919. They depicted a series of French Colonial paddle steamers plying the waters of Halong Bay in north-east Vietnam. A magni-fying glass revealed the name of one to be the Emeraude. Intrigued, he set out to find what had become of these ships, and before long en-visioned an Emeraude replica offering luxury cruises on Halong Bay once more.

By 2003, Merlin had boat builders work-ing on his recreation in the nearby port of Haiphong. Always curious by nature, he need-ed more information to come full circle.  Con-temporaries in France directed him to an archive in Aix en Provence that housed docu-ments from the French Indochina period. The Emeraude, as it turns out, had been part of a co-lonial business empire owned by Paul Roque.

With this whiff of a clue, Eric Merlin sent a letter from his Vietnam office expounding his vision to the 1,220 Roques he found in a French phone book. Not soon after he re-ceived a call.  “Look no further,” the voice on

the other line said. “We’re the family you’re looking for. I am Paul Roque’s son.” Nearly four years after discovering the postcards, Eric Merlin had finally found his source for unearthing the Emeraude’s history.

 THE ROQUE BROTHERSThe Roque’s adventures in Vietnam began with three enterprising brothers—Xavier, Henry and Victor. Originally from Bourdeaux, they made their way to Saigon in 1860 and established themselves as suppliers to the French military.

Subsequently, the Roque’s created an empire of timber, sugar, opium, utilities and steamships. But by 1890 their success drew the attention of the Chinese pirate Luu Ky. On Jan. 8,  1890, Ky and his bandits raided the Roque’s residence in Dong Trieu and took Henry and Victor hostage. The brothers were held for two months before being released in exchange for a considerable ransom, the equivalent of a million dollars today.

The Roque’s empire was virtually bank-rupt and the brothers’ adventurous spirits had been dashed. Henry took charge of the remain-

ing assets, along with Xavier’s son, Paul Roque. The two concentrated their dealings in Halong Bay and Haiphong. They invested heavily in five paddle-wheeled ships which would ferry goods and offer luxury cruises amidst the bay's captivating scenery. The boats would be named the  Rubis,  the Perle, the  Saphir, the Onyx and the  Emeraude.    The Roque’s entrepreneurial instincts struck gold once more as the cruises soon became a hit with French tourists.

In 1921 Paul Roque returned to Paris, leaving Vietnam behind. He was the last of his family to leave Indochina, following six decades of exotic adventure. The original Em-eraude ran aground in 1937. The ship quickly sank and still sits at the bottom of the bay. Mi-raculously, all passengers survived.

 BACK ON THE BAYGetting to Halong Bay was simple enough. Af-ter a couple of days in the fervent and pulsing scene of Hanoi, I was ready for tranquility. I was picked up mid-morning by a Sprinter shut-tle van at the Emeraude’s Hanoi office. The other passengers included four Americans, a

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Canadian and our guide, a bubbly Vietnamese woman named Lan. Our driver bulled his way through the seemingly impenetrable traffic and we were soon on a highway headed east.

We passed scenes endemic to Vietnam: water buffaloes trudging through verdant rice paddies, scooters piled high with goods ranging from piglets to flowers, and tall narrow houses that stood like books on end with scooter repair shops occupying the ground floors.

Three hours later we arrived in front of the Emeraude Café in Halong City and stepped out into the high noon heat. I delighted in the café’s air conditioning while sipping espresso and checking e-mails. Soon enough passen-gers were led onto the small concrete pier at Bai Chay and began boarding the tender boat. There was a group of Britons, a family of Spaniards and my new friends from the Hanoi shuttle. “Anyone want a bit of pineapple,” one of the Englishmen said. “I just bought it at the dock.” He had a small plastic bag of pineapple and wore a sailor’s striped Popeye T-shirt.

“Sure,” I replied. It was sweeter and juicier than any pineapple I’d ever had before, and seemed to soothe and cool me, all at once, in the intense heat of the day.

As the tender neared the Emeraude, the ship's features became more apparent: green smokestacks, rounded corners of the doors and windows, and the replica paddle wheel at the stern. Once onboard we were each given our room key by the staff man-ager—a young Vietnamese woman in an im-peccable white uniform. While most of the

passengers shuffled off to their cabins I set course for the sun deck.

Walking around the Emeraude, I reveled in the gleaming wooden decks, copious wicker furniture and the brass-framed porthole win-dows. On the top deck, near the wheelhouse, I lay down on a huge circular day bed. The sun's heat was brilliantly intense, yet, the cool sea air sweeping past made the temperature deceptively comfortable. I lay there for some time—no hat, no sunscreen. Though I felt my skin burning—I simply didn’t care to move. With patchy clouds in a bluebird sky, the hyp-notic drone of engines and the smooth sea stretching to the rock formations in the dis-tance, I needed nothing more.

Then I looked to my left. A British couple in bathing suits just a few sizes too small had occupied the other day bed across the deck. “Lovely isn’t it,” the man said languidly.

I nodded and smiled. They were already red as lobsters and looking for more solar punishment. I snapped to my senses and went mid-ship to investigate my cabin.

The icy air conditioning was a welcome re-lief as I peeked into the small yet elegant room. Wood paneling, hemp cloth walls and a vintage brass GE fan transported me to a bygone era. The ship's mere 37 cabins makes for an inti-mate experience. Only 18 were occupied on my cruise.  Like the Emeraude’s exterior, my cabin was simple, but managed to evoke a sense of quality and craftsmanship seldom seen these days; no flat screen TV’s and no WIFI aboard this ship. Turn of the 20th century French style and the staggering beauty of Halong Bay pro-

vided all the spectacle one needed. All else was a distraction as I came to learn.

Through my window, a jungle-topped rocky islet came into view. I stepped out onto the deck once more and realized we were sur-rounded by these hulking blocks of stone and stood there gob smacked by the sight. The seascape had an ethereal, dreamy quality to it. The karsts floated between sea and sky.

I could see why Vietnamese legend has it that Halong Bay was created by a family of dragons. In fact, Halong means “Bay of De-scending Dragons.” As the story goes, the ancient people of Vietnam were under attack from seafaring invaders and the gods sent dragons to rescue them. And instead of fire, these dragons spat jewels that incinerated the intruders. Thus were created the nearly 2,000 islets we see today. Standing there on the Em-eraude, looking out at the bay, this fantastical story didn’t seem at all that farfetched.

By mid-afternoon I was trudging up the steep stone steps towards Sung Sot Grotto with the other passengers. The cicadas buzzed noisily in unison. Salty sweat pooled into my sunglasses and dripped off my nose. We met our guide at the mouth of the cave, where multiple other groups from other ships had also congregated. We walked down the steps into the cave enmasse and the temperature instantly dropped—a wel-come relief.    The first chamber displayed stalactites and stalagmites of varying sizes illuminated by colorful lights. While the formations were certainly captivating, I couldn’t bear the crowd, and by the time we

Right: Passengers from the Emeraude descend the stone steps from Sung Sot back to the dock. The cave's exit looks over the heart of Halong's UNESCO World Heritage Site area.

March through June is the best time to visit. Plan your trip around the weather as a foggy day will ruin your trip. It’s all about the scen-ery here.

 An overnight cruise is definitely the smart way to see Halong Bay. The sunsets, sunrises and starry nights are simply magical.

 Bring a hat and plenty of sunblock if you burn easily. The heat in Vietnam is intense.

Comfortable shoes are a must for hiking up the 50 steep stone steps to the Sung Sot Grotto. The cave is well worth the walk.

 If you kayak, make sure the staff adjusts your seat correctly.

 The Emeraude’s buffet lunch is excellent.

Sidebar If you goThe green papaya and banana blossom salads are especially delicious.

 Hundreds of local people live on floating villages on Halong Bay. They will often put over to the ship in their sampans and offer their goods. For some of them this is their main source of income.

 More InformationEmeraude Classic Cruises46 Le Thai To Street, Hanoi, Vietnam. Tel: (84-4) 3935 1888, Fax: (84-4) 3825 5342, Hotline: (84) 9 0623 7899 E-mail: sales@emeraude-cruises.comWeb site: www.emeraude-cruises.com

reached the enormous third chamber I set off down the path alone.

Exiting the cave I was greeted by an ex-pansive view of the bay from above. Mark, the Canadian from the shuttle van snapped photos next to me. “When I was here in the early nineties there was nobody here,” he said. “Vietnam has changed significantly. Tourism has become a huge industry.” While the waters of Halong Bay were not clogged with cruise ships that day, I imagined the cave without the throngs of tourists and day-dreamed about being there 20 years prior.

 DINNER AND A MOVIEThat night, following our kayak adventure, Ed and I went for dinner in the Emeraude’s restaurant. The dining room ambiance was reminiscent of a glamorous 1920s movie. Our dinner buffet was decent, with the sautéed prawns being the highlight.

After watching crew members squid fish-ing off the stern, I went topside for an open air showing of the epic Oscar-winning French film, Indochine.  I watched the high drama un-fold around the film’s star, Catherine Deneuve, for an hour until I began dozing in my chair. Within minutes I was in my cabin fast asleep.

 SITTING STILLNext morning I woke early. Recalling where I was, I jumped out of bed. I just could not miss the sunrise. Opening my heavy wooden door I was instantly hit by the already thick heat. The sun had yet to crown the islets in the distance. I sat down on a lounge chair next to two women in dark sunglasses and waited. A gilded light crept across the scene and no one said a word.

I had many such moments aboard the Emeraude: simply sitting and soaking in other worldly surroundings in silence. I swore I’d bring my climbing shoes the next time I visited. But lately, and with the pas-sage of time, the more I think about my meditative dalliance on Halong Bay, I might just deliberately leave them at home.

Born in Ireland, Colm FitzGerald grew up in Southern California. An avid backpacker and rock climber, he now lives in Hungary with his wife Anita and their demonic Chihuahua-mix Whoopi.

Left: A visitor checks out the intricacies of the Sung Sot Cave. Below: Ed taking in the sunset from a kayak.