About Almadira
The first morning, I woke before sunrise to the sound of the anchor chain rattling and the galley door creaking open. One of the crew was already brewing coffee in a dented stainless pot, the smell cutting through the cool air. I wrapped a thin blanket from the cabin around my shoulders and stepped onto the top deck. We were floating near Kelor, the island’s jagged silhouette sharp against a pale pink sky. It didn’t feel like a holiday yet — more like being quietly let in on a secret.
We spent that first afternoon snorkeling at Menjerite, just a short ride from Labuan Bajo. The current was mild, and the reef wall dropped off fast. I saw a small reef shark tucked under a ledge, motionless, while schools of blue tang swirled above. Almadira, a 26-metre phinisi, handled the swell without fuss. Back on board, lunch was served under the awning — grilled fish, spicy sambal, and a papaya salad so fresh it tasted like it was cut that morning. No buffet lines, no plastic plates.
Day two started at Padar Island just before dawn. We hiked the northern trail as the sun cleared the hills, turning the bay below into a gradient of turquoise and deep blue. The famous curved beach was crowded with day-trippers by the time we left. Later, we did the Komodo dragon walk at Rinca. The ranger carried a long stick, and we stayed in a tight group. One dragon lumbered past, ignoring us completely. After lunch, we snorkeled at Manta Point. I saw three mantas in twenty minutes, gliding so close I could see the scars on their wings.
Pink Beach was next — and yes, the sand really is tinged pink, though you have to look closely. We swam in the cove while the crew prepped the sunset drinks: cold Bintang and spiced peanuts. By evening, we anchored near Kalong Island. Thousands of fruit bats poured out of the mangroves at dusk, flying in widening spirals over the black water. The sound of their wings was like distant rain.
On the last day, we hit Taka Makassar at low tide. The sandbar was exposed, and the water was waist-deep and unreal — milky blue, like light through frosted glass. We waded out and floated, talking about nothing. Then a quick stop at Kanawa for one last snorkel. The coral was patchy in places, but the clownfish were active, darting in and out of anemones. We returned to Labuan Bajo by early afternoon, the engine steady behind us.
The cabin was simple but well-kept: one private room with two single beds pushed together, a small fan, and a porthole that opened to the sea. The bathroom had cold running water and a decent drain. No frills, but everything worked. I appreciated that the crew didn’t hover — they were present when needed, invisible when not. At night, we slept on deck with mosquito nets draped around us. The boat rocked gently. No music, no lights. Just the sound of water tapping the hull.
