Pulau Bidong Refugee Camp Trip Report: After the Vietnam war, like a lot of other Vietnamese at the time, we decided to leave Vietman for a better life. We were part of the exodus known as the Vietnamese boat people. Many of us landed up on the shores of Malaysia. The Malaysians had no place to handle the huge amount of refugees coming onto their shores in such a short period of time, so they put us on what was a derserted island at the time. Pulau Bidong was that island. The only inhabiants on that island before we came were the wild life. The only inhabitants after we left were the wild life. If you are a Vietnamese of a certain age, regardless of whether you were part of the boat people exodus, you have heard of Pulau Bidong. I don't think that there is a Vietnamese walking on the face of this planet, of a certain age bracket, that has not heard of Pulau Bidong. It is that ingrained in our history, like the Vietnam war is to U.S history. This is a video clip of Bidong back when I was there: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sJsfc9PS6ds
Going back to Bidong had been on my bucket list item for 40+ years, not sure why I didn't pull the trigger earlier. When I started doing research on how to get back to Bidong, I found out that I wasn't the only Vietnamese with that desire. It was like a "thing" for those who once lived there to return to see what it is like now. Spoiler alert: nothing but wild life there. The natural habitat has reclaimed the island, with very little traces of what was once there. I had lived there for almost a year, so I wanted to go back to visit my childhood. A big part of my DNA was formulated from the experience living there at such a young age. I was young enough to remember stuff, but not old enough to actually comprehend or be traumatized by the true hardships of living there, like my elders did. All of my memories living there were good ones, even though my mother said I almost died from some disease there. I truly don't remember that episode.
Originally, it was just going to be my mother and I going. I had tried to convinced her for several years to go with me. Her response had always been, "I can't swim. I don't do boats." Funny how that never stopped her from putting her favorite son on a boat, not much bigger than a canoe to leave Vietnam, knowing full well that he doesn't do non-wetsuit swims, but whatever. To entice her to come, I told her that I would purchase business class tickets for the both of us to go there. We came there in not so ideal conditions so we weren't going to return without much better conditions. I wanted to go there with an exclamation mark. That still didn't convince her. To get to Bidong, we had to take a boat from the mainland. She still had bad memories of that original trip and was afraid of drowning. I told her that, you know, I was an Ironman and could save her if the boat flips over. Her literal response was, "I know you can't swim" ... sons of bitches, as-if she's been talking to my triathlete friends.
Fast forward, when my sister heard of my plan, she told mamma Nguyen that she also wanted to come and bring her family to experience it. She had heard about Bidong all her life because you know ... big brother had mentioned it to her all her life. I never thought about that angle, bribe mamma Nguyen with the presence of her grandchildren to get her to take the trip. Then, when my cousins heard about the trip, they also wanted to come. Then, my aunt heard about the trip, she too wanted to come and bring a friend. Then, relatives in Vietnam heard about it and wanted to join. Before you knew it, a trip of two became a tour group of 15. It's as if we were going to recreate the refugee experience with a bunch of people crammed together on a small boat.
To get there, we had to pass through Kulua Lumpur, take a 1 hour flight from Kulua Lumpur to a small but quaint little city called Terengganu, take a 1 hour taxi to the middle of nowhere, and then take a one hour boat ride to Bidong. My mother made it clear that she was not stepping onto any small boat or ferry, so I chartered an 18 person private boat for the 15 of us. Her response was, it's still too small. Get something bigger. I told her that if she needed more room on that 18 person boat, I'd swim to Bidong to save space. Keep in mind that this is in the middle of nowhere Malaysia. A private charter boat isn't a yacht nor is it expensive. It's big floating box with three fifty year old engines, two of which are there for show. The onboard lifevest is a picture of one, but hey, mamma Nguyen doesn't need to know about those little details. She's scared enough as is to be on the boat.
I don't remember much about Bidong. What I do remember were the beach area, which was the "downtown," the cemetery because that was where the makeshift Budhist temple and Catholic church were, a big ass boat that had ran ashore and remained there, the general area where we lived, and the backside beach where illegal trades were conducted between local Malaysian merchant boats and the Vietnamese that lived there. We weren't fed much in the refugee camp. The locals knew that and they knew that we left Vietnam with our worldly possession (i.e., USD and gold), so there were trades to be made. The merchants would park their boats offshore on the opposite side of island as the downtown area to sell life necessities to us refugees. The Malaysian authorities would turn a blind eye to the illegal activities, except when there is bi-weekly visits by the international monitors. They probably realized that we were underfed and needed that black market actions or they'd have a riot on their hands and that those activities helped the local fisherman/local economy. When I lived on Bidong, our tarp covered hut was on main route of the supplies being moved from the boats to wherever their final destinations were. You'd always know when trades were being done by the uptick of foot traffic in front of our hut.
There aren't that many tourists that visit Terengganu. The ones that do, would do island hopping to one of the other nicer islands off the shore of Terengganu. They do have trips to Bidong to do scuba diving or snorkeling. The water there is crystal clear. I've been to the Cayman Island and El Nido, Philippines. The water of Bidong is as clear and gentle as those places. The offside of the island has white sandy beaches. The "downtown" beach has a pier that you can walk on. I saw a tiger shark swimming around as well as school of several hundred fish underneath the pier. They said that turtles also conjugate around that area, but I didn't see any. Needless to say, the marine life is quite abundant. It's kind of like a hidden gem if anyone ever want to visit a deserted island, with history, to do scuba diving or snorkeling. The water temperature is probably 85 degrees, so really nice.
When we got to Bidong, a few things jumped out at me. First, was the pier. It wasn't there when I was there. The island closed down to refugees in the late '90s/early 2000s, so I think that that pier was built during those later years. The 2nd thing I noticed was the beach area. Back in my days, it was full of life. It was an open area, with the forest cleared really far back. Now, the vegetation has reclaimed the real estate. The beach is still there, but you would never have guessed that at least 500k people passed through there over the years. It looked like any beachfront of any deserted island.
Walking along the shores, I see a skeleton of the big ass boat that I mentioned previously. I can't find it, but there is a picture of my mother and I standing in front of that boat back in the days. The towering hull was still there back in the days, but the interior was gutted for parts/supplies. Now, the hull is gone. What remains looked like an excavation site of a viking ship from centuries ago. It was like greeting an old elementary school friend. You've both have grown but the you can see the soul and childhood faces in each other.
There were 15 of us on the trip. My mother and I were the only ones that lived on Bidong. My aunt was housed on a different island. I had one cousin that came with us that lived on a refugee camp in Indonesia. The rest of the folks on the trips were there as tourists to see where we used to live and what we went through. I'm not sure how much they got out of it, but I got some closure and a bucket list item checked off. If I ever visit Malaysia again, I would definitely add Terengganu to my itinerary. We had a tight travel schedule, so we didn't do much sight seeing. It's a kind of town that I would love to explore some more. I wouldn't mind going back to Bidong as part of an organized scuba diving group. Lastly, it's probably one of a few places on the planet that I wouldn't mind spending as much of my tourist money as I can so as to give back to the community that hosted us during those refugee camp days. It would be money well spent.
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