About Delilah
The first morning, I woke before sunrise to the sound of water slapping against Delilah’s hull in Sebayur Bay. The air was cool, salt-kissed, and the deckhand was already brewing coffee over a small gas stove near the bow. We’d anchored late the night before after a smooth transfer from Labuan Bajo, and stepping out from the single cabin, I found the rest of the group wrapped in blankets, staring at the silhouette of Padar Island across the glassy water. It set the tone – quiet, intimate, unhurried.
Delilah is smaller than the luxury mega-yachts, just 25 metres with one cabin, so it was just our group of eight friends sharing the entire boat. We had the top deck to ourselves most of the time, lounging on the long cushioned bench that wraps around the aft area. The crew – five of them – moved with quiet efficiency, never intrusive. One morning, they laid out breakfast on Kanawa Island’s beach: hard-boiled eggs, fresh papaya, and fried bananas on banana leaves. No plastic, just simple food served with care.
Day two started with the climb on Padar. We landed before dawn, the sky turning from indigo to peach as we hiked the switchbacks. From the top, the triple-cove view was unreal – white sand curves framed by red dirt cliffs. Back on board, we sailed south to Komodo Village, where the rangers led us on the dragon walk. One juvenile dragon crossed the path just metres ahead, its tail dragging, tongue flicking. Later, we snorkeled at Manta Point near Batu Bolong. I counted six mantas in 20 minutes, some gliding right beneath me, their wingtips brushing my fins.
On the final morning, we anchored at Taka Makassar. The sandbar was exposed at low tide, so we waded out and floated in waist-deep water, taking photos, laughing. The crew brought out a floating cooler with cold water and sliced pineapple. No crowds, just silence and the occasional sound of a fish jumping. We left feeling full – not just from the meals (which were surprisingly good: grilled fish with sambal, stir-fried greens, coconut rice) but from the rhythm of it all – days shaped by tides, not schedules.
