About D3 Speedboat
I remember the chill of the metal railing under my palms at 6:45 a.m., the engine of the D3 Speedboat ticking as we waited just off Loh Liang. The sky was soft pink behind Rinca’s jagged silhouette, and our guide pointed to movement near the treeline — two Komodo dragons, one larger nudging the other near a rocky outcrop. It wasn’t even 7 a.m. and already, the island felt alive in a way photos never show.
We’d left Labuan Bajo at first light, the crew helping us aboard with life jackets and quick safety briefings. The D3 is fast — not quiet, but impressively steady — and we reached Rinca in under an hour. After the ranger briefing and our dragon walk, we motored to Manta Point by 10 a.m. I’d seen manta rays on documentaries, but nothing prepared me for the first glimpse: a dark triangle gliding just beneath the surface, then another, circling the cleaning station like clockwork. Snorkeling there felt like floating above a ballet — effortless, silent, surreal.
By noon, we anchored at Pink Beach. The sand really is pink, especially near the northern end where crushed coral mixes with white sand. We ate a packed lunch under the shade of a tarp rigged on the beach — grilled chicken, rice, cucumber salad, and cold water — while a few of us waded in to snorkel near the rocky tips. A small group of jellyfish floated near the surface, harmless but startling at first. The D3’s crew kept an eye on us, calling out when a small current started to pull.
Back on board, we headed toward Padar, but only to circle the island and take photos from the water. The climb wasn’t part of our day trip, but seeing the triple bays from sea level — emerald, turquoise, and deep blue — still stole my breath. D3 Speedboat pulled up near a quiet cove where we had time to swim and jump off the stern. One of the younger guests did a backward flip; the crew cheered. It felt less like a tour and more like a day with friends who knew the waters intimately.
The return to Labuan Bajo was smooth, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the water. We passed Sebayur Island, where a few boats were anchored for the night. Our guide handed out cold towels and the last of the fruit — pineapple slices in little paper cups. I sat at the front again, legs dangling, replaying the manta’s glide, the dragon’s slow blink, the crunch of pink sand under my sandals. It was a long day — packed, physical, full — but the pace worked. Nothing felt rushed, nothing missed.
