About Kanha Loka
The first morning, I woke to the smell of salt and freshly brewed coffee drifting up from the deck. It was just after 5:30, and the sky over Padar Island was soft pink and gold. I stepped barefoot onto the teak deck, still cool from the night, and saw the crew already preparing the tenders. There was no rush, no shouting – just quiet movement. That calm set the tone. We were on Kanha Loka, a 34-metre Phinisi, and from that moment, the rhythm felt different. Not rushed, not overproduced. Just us, the sea, and a solid, well-kept boat beneath our feet.
We spent the morning hiking Padar’s switchbacks in the rising heat, stopping to catch our breath and look down at the crescent bays – white, pink, and gold – laid out like a map. Later, after a lunch of grilled fish and spicy sambal on deck, we anchored near Komodo Island. The ranger met us with a long stick and a calm warning: 'Don’t wander off the path. They watch.' Seeing the dragons up close – their tails dragging, jaws slightly open – was more primal than I expected. One yawned while sunning itself near the trail, showing off yellow teeth like old knives.
That afternoon, we snorkeled at Pink Beach, where the sand gets its colour from crushed coral, not some tourist myth. The water was warm and the reef close to shore. Bright blue starfish, sea urchins, and a slow-moving octopus tucked into a crevice kept us hovering for nearly an hour. But the real surprise was Manta Point. We jumped in without knowing if they’d show. Then, within minutes, two large mantas circled below us, wings flapping like underwater kites. One passed so close I could see the pattern on its back – like a fingerprint.
On the second evening, we anchored at Kalong, a small island with a mangrove forest that comes alive at dusk. As the sun dropped behind the trees, thousands of fruit bats erupted into the sky, swirling like smoke. We watched from the sundeck with cold drinks, some of us trying karaoke under the stars. The sound system wasn’t perfect, but nobody cared. The next morning, we visited Taka Makassar, a sandbar that appears at low tide. It’s shallow for 200 metres in every direction – surreal, like walking on a mirror. We floated at Kanawa after that, where the current brings in reef fish and the water shifts from turquoise to deep blue. The dive guide pointed out a tiny pygmy seahorse clinging to coral – easy to miss if you’re not looking closely.
Kanha Loka has five cabins, and we stayed in a Deluxe Ocean Cabin. It was below deck but didn’t feel closed in – large porthole, real airflow, and thick bedding. The bathroom was compact but functional, with good water pressure. Meals were served family-style: big platters of nasi goreng, grilled tuna, tropical fruit. No five-star pretense, just filling, tasty food. I appreciated that. The sundeck had shaded and sunny zones, and I spent hours there with a book, watching flying fish skitter away from our wake.
