About Berdikari 2
We keep the throttle steady at first light, punching out from Waisai through the glassy channel between Gam and Batanta before the afternoon squalls build. Berdikari 2 isn’t built for cabins or overnight stays — Berdikari 2’s stripped down, light, and built for ground coverage. One guest only, seated just behind the console where you can talk directly to the driver without shouting over an engine cowl. That means we adjust on the fly: if the current’s ripping through Cape Kri by 10:00, we hit it then, not on some printed schedule. Her shallow draft lets us tuck into little coves near Yenbuba where larger boats can’t turn around.
You won’t find bunk beds or private bathrooms because there’s no need — this is a day boat, and a single-pax one at that. That changes how we operate. We don’t wait for seven other guests to finish breakfast or lace their dive boots. If you want to surface after a drift snorkel at Melissa’s Garden and go straight to the next site, we do it. The outboard is tuned for quick starts, and we carry extra fins, a surface marker buoy, and a first-aid kit rated for remote diving. Our route depends on wind direction: if the southeast trade’s pushing hard, we stay leeward of Waigeo and run the sheltered reefs off Saporkren instead of fighting open water to Wayag.
On a full-day charter, we typically leave Waisai at 07:00 with water, snacks, and your gear stowed in sealed bins under the seat. By 08:30, we’re at Arborek Jetty — short swim with the resident wobbegong, then a climb up the wooden watchtower for the bird’s-eye view of the reef. We motor across to Cape Kri by 10:00, where the wall drops fast and pygmy seahorses cling to pipe sponges at 12 metres. Lunch is cold rice parcels with tuna and papaya, eaten on deck while anchored behind a tiny islet near Mioskon.
Afternoon, we either push north toward the Wayag lagoon viewpoint — a 20-minute uphill climb on weathered steps — or, if swell’s running, we stay south and work the muck slopes of Yenbuba for ghost pipefish and blue-ringed octopus. Either way, we time the return for golden hour over the Pianemo skyline, those jagged karsts glowing amber as we throttle back into Waisai by 18:00. No fixed itinerary, no shared groups — just one boat, one guest, and two decades of knowing which way the tide pulls behind Boo Rocks.
