Song Tu Tay is one of nine Buddhist temples built on the main islands of the Truong Sa Archipelago — Song Tu Tay, Truong Sa Lon, Truong Sa Dong, Son Ca, Sinh Ton, Sinh Ton Dong, Nam Yet, Da Tay and Phan Vinh — which together form a distinctive chain of sanctuaries on these remote islands.
Their names alone reveal something distinctive: each temple bears the name of its island, rather than the ornate, poetic names common among mainland temples.
Here, the temple is simply Song Tu Tay — a plain and unadorned name, yet unmistakably Vietnamese. In this, too, it asserts its presence, and Viet Nam’s sovereignty, over this sacred territory of the motherland.
It took us two days to sail more than 300 nautical miles from Cam Ranh Naval Port in Khanh Hoa Province to the island.
Warmly welcomed by soldiers of the 146th Brigade, Naval Region 4, and by the local residents, I followed the peal of bells ringing out to greet visitors, making my way to the quintessentially Vietnamese temple I had long dreamed of seeing.
Song Tu Tay Temple faces the sea, ringed by the lush green canopies of phong ba (Heliotropium arboreum) and bang vuong (Barringtonia asiatica) trees, hardy species that thrive in sun, wind and salt-laden air and tolerate drought well.
Here, they stand in for the cypresses, pines, bamboo and bodhi trees that traditionally shade mainland temples.
According to the book Chronicle of the Development of Buddhism in Truong Sa, Song Tu Tay Temple was built on the site of a shrine to the sea deity that had stood there for generations. A full restoration in 2009 gave it its present appearance.
Since ancient times, fishermen heading out to sea have often put in at the island to shelter from storms and make offerings at the shrine, praying for fair weather, calm seas, bountiful catches and safe passage on their voyages.
It was these fishermen who carried Buddha statues aboard their boats and eventually enshrined them here, creating a spiritual haven that gave them comfort and a sense of protection on their long journeys across the vast ocean.
Today, the temple continues to serve the spiritual needs of the island’s residents.
The temple is built to last, with materials chosen to withstand the harsh maritime climate and salt-laden air. Its design follows the architectural traditions of Vietnamese Mahayana Buddhism, with the essential elements: a three-entrance gate, main hall, bell tower and courtyard.
The Buddha statues inside are cast in bronze, while the large, inscribed plaques, horizontal boards and parallel couplets are written in the romanised Vietnamese script, keeping their messages open to everyone while preserving the cultural identity of Vietnamese Buddhism.
The temple houses an altar to the Three Jewels and another honouring the martyrs who gave their lives defending the nation’s sovereignty over its seas and islands throughout Viet Nam’s history.
For thousands of years, Buddhist temples have held a special place in Vietnamese hearts. Poet Nguyen Binh seemed to capture this feeling in “My Homeland”, crying out in heart-wrenching lines:
“One day, when I leave my homeland behind,
I leave the moon, the wind — oh, and the temple too...”
Standing before the boundless ocean, where the compassionate sound of temple bells carries across the waves, I felt an emotion stir deep within me: pride in my homeland’s seas and islands, mingled with a tender attachment to this distant corner of the motherland, even though I was setting foot here for the first time.
Perhaps it was the echoes of those bells that rekindled the nation’s collective memory within me, linking me to a heritage shared across generations.
