On the first day of March, it rained in Sai Kung. All boats to Tai Long Wan were suspended. The ticket seller at the pier said, “No one will go camping today.”
The only boat still running was called “Mao Ji”, heading to Sharp Island. A few tourists were on board, Hong Kongers and mainlanders. They held umbrellas and occasionally pointed at the fog over the sea, taking photos. “Lucky to be sailing today,” the boatman said. “On a normal weekend, the queue here would go around three times.” When the boat docked, the rain eased.
Sharp Island is part of the UNESCO Global Geopark, known for its connecting sandbar and volcanic rock formations. Signs are everywhere, especially notices about “no littering”, in both Chinese and English, some with illustrations.
On the hill above the beach, a designated barbecue area holds 13 neatly arranged grills. Changing rooms and toilets are separated by gender. Unused on this rainy day, they still looked like standard government facilities. But the official campsite was empty. So was the barbecue area. The grills sat idle, lined up in rows.
In the bushes next to the beach, there was a tent. A canopy stretched above it, tucked between trees, a choice to stay dry. It belonged to the only camper on Sharp Island that day.
Tao Wenhui, Assistant Director of the Agriculture, Fisheries and Conservation Department, told the Legislative Council in February that between 2023 and 2025, the department issued an average of 400 to 600 prosecutions annually for littering, illegal camping, and making fire. According to Greenpeace, during the 2026 Lunar New Year holiday, 166 tents were recorded at Sai Wan in one night, 42.8 per cent of them outside the designated camping area. On 1 March, the official campsite at Sharp Island had just one person.
The tent belonged to Antonio Ma, a Filipino national. Ma has worked in Hong Kong’s construction industry for seven years. Camping, he said, is his only hobby. “At least once a month,” he said. “Sometimes Sai Wan, sometimes Sharp Island.” Two old chairs were placed outside the tent, he said, “I like to sit on them most of the time and look at the sea.” An umbrella hung on the tree. He would use it when going to the beach to relax in the rain, he explained. On clear days, he added, it is hard to find an empty spot to pitch a tent. “Today I’m the only one.” He agreed to a photo. In it, he stands in front of his tent, canopy open. Behind him is a grove of trees.
Deeper into the bushes, the garbage became impossible to ignore, but not in the way one might expect. At first glance, it was just trees and shrubs. Look closer, and plastic fragments emerged, tangled with branches and half-buried in dead leaves. Some had faded white from sun and wind, as if they had been there for years. The beach, too, held its share. Walking about 200 meters, three or four plastic bottles appeared, half-buried in sand and shells. Tourists were scarce that day. This rubbish was not left today.
Greenpeace’s observations from 20 to 22 February told a wider story: on Sharp Island’s connecting sandbar, large numbers of visitors were digging up coastal creatures, with 33 people digging simultaneously at peak times. On the same days, Tap Mun saw up to 900 visitors. Along the trails, volunteers collected 16.2 kilograms of rubbish, barbecue grills, cigarette butts, food wrappers, and camping equipment. “There is a garbage problem here,” Ma said. On sunny days, people bring things. They do not always take them away.
The Agriculture, Fisheries and Conservation Department says it is studying the possibility of bringing Sharp Island under statutory protection and designating snorkeling routes in nearby coral areas. In response to the environmental pressure from camping, the department is also considering introducing a booking and fee system for popular sites under its jurisdiction, with plans to consult the Legislative Council in the second half of the year.
By 4 pm, the rain had stopped. When the Mao Ji boat docked at Sai Kung Pier, the lights of the seafood street were already on. Looking back, Sharp Island was hidden in the fog. Ma was probably still there, guarding his canopied tent, guarding the garbage that was not his.
The ticket seller had been right that almost no one would go camping today. Only one person went. The garbage that was not his remained. Before closing his stall, the ticket seller added, “Tomorrow should be sunny. There will be more people then.”
When people come, so will the garbage.
