A Life on the Water

There are places that reward you for arriving slowly. The Komodo archipelago is one of them.

Our journey began at the private jetty of Ayana, a wonderful launch pad from which to explore this extraordinary corner of Indonesia. The Samara crew kindly arranged to collect us directly from the hotel, allowing the adventure to begin almost at our doorstep.

From the moment we stepped aboard Samara 2, we sensed that this would be something special. The crew welcomed us warmly and seemed to anticipate our every need. More than that, they had taken the time to understand how we wanted to spend our days.

Before we had even set sail, they had carefully shaped an itinerary around our preferences. We could settle into life on the water knowing that the journey had been planned around us.

And what a landscape we had entered.

The waters shifted constantly beneath us. At times, the surface was so calm and glasslike that the world seemed reflected in it. Elsewhere, the currents churned and swirled into a bubbling cauldron, a reminder of the extraordinary forces moving through these islands.

Limestone hills rose from the sea, their rugged outlines punctuating an immense expanse of blue. With every turn came another view, another secluded bay, another stretch of coastline that seemed to belong entirely to us.

I have rarely experienced such a powerful sense of remoteness. Here, the distances between islands felt greater than they appeared on a map, and the world beyond the horizon seemed wonderfully far away.

Some of our favourite moments were also the simplest. We found tiny sand spits, little ribbons of pale sand surrounded by clear water, where we could slip into the sea and spend time doing very little at all.

There was no need to fill every hour with an activity. Sometimes the greatest luxury was simply being somewhere so beautiful, with nowhere else we needed to be.

Padar Island offered a different perspective. We hiked up the hillside, gradually gaining height until the surrounding landscape opened out before us. The dramatic ridgelines and bays revealed the extraordinary geography of the region.

It was one of those places where photographs can only go so far towards explaining what it feels like to stand there.

Then there was Pink Beach. We wandered along the length of the sand, taking in the unusual colour of the shoreline and the beautiful bay beyond it.

A stop at a local warung provided the perfect excuse for a beer, while the boys headed out on their paddleboards to explore the water. It was an uncomplicated afternoon, and all the better for it: a little local character, a beautiful beach and time to enjoy the place at our own pace.

Komodo itself brought us face to face with the archipelago's most famous residents. Seeing the dragons in their natural habitat was a reminder that this is not simply a destination of spectacular scenery. It is also an extraordinary living ecosystem, with wildlife that feels entirely at home in a landscape that remains wonderfully untamed.

Back aboard Samara 2, another pleasure awaited us. Every return to the boat seemed to coincide with a delicious meal prepared by the crew.

The food became part of the rhythm of the trip: an invitation to gather, eat well and reflect on the day's adventures before the next stretch of water carried us somewhere new.

Some of the most memorable experiences came when the day began to fade.

One evening, we anchored in a bay and watched millions of flying foxes emerge into the sky, streaming out towards the evening darkness in search of food. Against the fading light, the bats moved in vast numbers from their roosts, transforming the evening into a spectacle of nature on an immense scale.

We stayed and watched as the procession continued, reminded once again that the most remarkable experiences often arrive when you simply stop and pay attention.

Another day brought us to a shallow-water nursery where young blacktip reef sharks gathered for protection. The small sharks occupied the sheltered shallows before growing large enough to venture into deeper water.

It was a fascinating glimpse into the delicate stages of marine life, and another reminder of how much is happening beneath the surface in these remote waters.

By the end of the journey, it was difficult to choose a single highlight. The panoramic views from Padar, the pink sand beneath our feet, the dragons, the flying foxes and the young sharks all offered something different.

Yet what connected them was the privilege of reaching these places by boat, with the freedom to linger where we wanted and move on when we were ready.

We had come to explore the islands. We left with the feeling that we had experienced something harder to put into words: the simple, lasting pleasure of being far away from everything else.

Some boat journeys are about getting away from the world. Others are about bringing everyone together.

Our time on the water around Phuket was very much the latter. With family visiting, we hired a modern, well-equipped yacht and set out from Phuket harbour for a few days of exploring islands, swimming in inviting water and discovering just how much fun a boat can be when it becomes your own floating playground.

From the beginning, the crew set the tone. We were welcomed aboard and treated to some fantastic food, an early indication that the days ahead would be as much about enjoying ourselves on the yacht as they would be about the places we visited.

Our first stop took us to Laem Had Beach, a shallow spit where the sea stretched out in clear, inviting shallows. We spent time walking through the water, enjoying the sunshine and taking in the surroundings before returning to the boat.

The coastline around these islands is extraordinary. We sailed around Lao Bile Island, passing emerald water framed by towering limestone cliffs. The rock faces rose sharply from the sea, topped with dense green vegetation that softened their dramatic outlines.

It was a landscape that seemed designed for exploration by boat, with every headland suggesting another hidden bay or passage waiting around the corner.

One of the pleasures of having a well-equipped yacht was the freedom to get off the boat and investigate the coastline at close quarters. We took the kayaks out and made our way into a cave system, discovering a different perspective on the islands.

Away from the main boat, the experience felt more intimate: the water close beneath us, the limestone walls rising around us, and the quiet sense of venturing into somewhere a little less familiar.

But the best part came when we returned.

The crew had transformed the back of the yacht into a swimming pool, ready for us to enjoy. After the exertion of kayaking, it was a brilliant surprise.

Lunch became a wonderfully informal affair, with food enjoyed between swims, people diving straight off the boat and everyone drifting between the water and the deck.

There was no need to get dressed up, rush anywhere or follow a schedule. The yacht had become our own private base for the day, and the sea was right there whenever we wanted it.

It was a particularly good way to spend time with family. Everyone could find their own version of the perfect afternoon, whether that meant relaxing on board, swimming, eating or simply watching the islands drift past.

Later, as we sailed by Bat Island, the trees gave away the presence of its inhabitants. We could hear the bats calling from the canopy, a reminder that these islands are not just beautiful backdrops but living places, with their own wildlife and rhythms.

We eventually anchored for one last stop, and the crew produced perhaps the most universally appealing entertainment of the trip: a slide running off the side of the yacht and straight into the sea.

The children needed little encouragement. Before long, they were spending the afternoon racing down the slide and plunging into the water, climbing back aboard and doing it all over again.

The yacht became a floating amusement park, and the sea provided an endless supply of entertainment. It was noisy, energetic and completely carefree — exactly the sort of afternoon that makes a family trip memorable long after the details of the itinerary have faded.

Looking back, what stands out about our time around Phuket is the variety. There were beautiful beaches and dramatic limestone scenery, quiet moments on the water and opportunities to explore caves by kayak. There was excellent food, thoughtful hospitality and the simple pleasure of being able to swim whenever the mood took us.

Yet it was the flexibility of the experience that made it special. We could spend the morning exploring, the afternoon eating and swimming, and the final hours of the day laughing as the children hurled themselves into the sea.

Sometimes the best travel memories are not made at a famous viewpoint or a celebrated landmark. Sometimes they are made on the back of a boat, with lunch on the table, the sea all around you and the children already lining up for another go on the slide.

We had heard that Bai Tu Long Bay offered a quieter alternative to its more famous neighbour, Ha Long Bay. It sounded appealing in theory, but it was only once we collected Prince 2 and headed out into the water that we understood quite how much that distinction would shape the experience.

The limestone islands rose from the emerald sea in every direction, their steep sides climbing towards the sky and their summits covered in lush vegetation. The formations seemed almost impossibly vertical, as though the landscape had been lifted straight out of the water.

We moved between them, gradually leaving the busier world behind and entering a place that felt more secluded with every passing mile.

But it was the quiet that made the strongest impression.

We had chosen Bai Tu Long Bay because we wanted to experience this extraordinary landscape without the crowds we had been told to expect elsewhere. We were not disappointed.

The atmosphere was peaceful, and the sounds of the natural world seemed to take over. Above us, eagles called out as they circled overhead, their cries carrying across the water.

It was the sort of place where you found yourself speaking more quietly, not because you needed to, but because the surroundings seemed to invite it.

The crew aboard Prince 2 helped make the journey feel both relaxed and personal. They were attentive without intruding, and there was a genuine effort to make each part of the experience memorable.

Before dinner, they arranged a cooking demonstration, offering us a glimpse into the preparation behind the food we were enjoying. It was a lovely way to bring local culture into life aboard the boat.

That evening, we anchored in the bay and watched the sunset.

As the light changed over the limestone islands, the landscape took on a different character. The sharp outlines of the karsts became silhouettes against the fading sky, and the water reflected the colours of the evening.

It was a moment that called for very little: a good vantage point, the company of those around us and enough time to watch the light disappear.

The following day brought an adventure on land. We made our way into one of the bays and climbed a hillside towards a vast cave hidden within the limestone.

The ascent was worth the effort. Inside, the scale of the cavern was extraordinary, the rock enclosing a space that felt far removed from the open water below.

At the foot of the hill, we found a secluded beach. After the climb and the cave, it was a perfect place to pause, take in the view and enjoy the feeling of having discovered a quiet corner of the bay.

There was more exploring to come. We took canoes out around one of the islands and paddled along the coastline, discovering further caves and sheltered passages.

Moving at that slower pace offered a different intimacy with the surroundings. Rather than watching the islands glide past from the deck, we could approach the rock faces, look into openings along the shore and explore the spaces between the formations.

Back on board, the crew continued to make every return feel like a treat. The food was a real highlight throughout the trip, with care taken over each meal.

One morning, they prepared pho for breakfast before we headed out to visit a pearl farm. It was a fitting start to the day: a delicious bowl of something warming before an excursion that offered another perspective on the region.

The pearl farm was an interesting insight into the local industry and the work involved in cultivating pearls, adding another layer to a journey that had already combined scenery, nature, food and exploration.

What stayed with us most, however, was the feeling of space.

Bai Tu Long Bay gave us the opportunity to experience one of Vietnam's most extraordinary landscapes without feeling hurried through it. We could spend time watching the eagles, take in the sunset from the anchorage, climb towards a giant cave, relax on a secluded beach and paddle around the islands at our own pace.

Some destinations impress you through their scale. Others stay with you because of how they make you feel.

Bai Tu Long Bay managed to do both. It was a landscape of extraordinary proportions, yet our memories of it are also remarkably quiet ones. A sunset, a canoe gliding past limestone walls, a secluded beach and the sound of eagles above the water.