About Neptune Cruise Phinisi
The first morning began with light slicing through the woven sails, warm and golden, as the smell of fried shallots and strong Javanese coffee drifted from the galley. I was wrapped in a thin blanket on the upper deck, watching the silhouette of Padar emerge across the water. We’d boarded late the previous day in Labuan Bajo after a bumpy airport transfer, but the crew had moved fast—cold towels, iced lemongrass drinks, and a quick safety briefing before we slipped anchor toward Menjerite. By sunset, we were snorkeling in mild surf, coral bommies brushing our knees, while the sky turned peach over Rinca.
Neptune Cruise Phinisi is a 40-metre phinisi built with dark ironwood and polished teak, and though it sleeps up to 20, our group of 12 meant space everywhere—on the cushioned lower deck, in the shaded aft lounge, even in the water with two kayaks and stand-up paddleboards laid out each stop. I stayed in a Deluxe Cabin, one of four, all with ocean-view windows that actually opened. The Junior Suite had a slightly wider bed and private access to the side deck, but all rooms had thick mattresses, real wardrobes, and bottled water refilled daily. Showers had consistent pressure, which I didn’t expect on a boat this traditional.
Day two started before dawn. We landed on Padar’s east side by 6:15 AM, hiking the switchbacks in cool air, arriving at the viewpoint just as the sun cleared Sangeang Volcano. The island’s tri-coloured sands—white, pink, and black—fanned out below. By mid-morning, we were on Komodo Island itself, following rangers with sticks, spotting two dragons near the watering hole, one yawning wide enough to show yellow gums. Lunch was grilled snapper with sambal matah, served under a sailcloth awning on Pink Beach, where we spent hours snorkeling above branching table coral. In the afternoon, Neptune Cruise Phinisi idled at Manta Point near Gili Lawa, and within ten minutes, a pair of mantas circled the stern, close enough to see their mouth sensors flick.
Our last full day started at Taka Makassar, a sandbar that appears only at low tide. We walked its spine in knee-deep water, taking photos like we’d discovered a new island. Snorkeling nearby revealed a reef thick with bumphead parrotfish and a reef shark tucked under an overhang. Then it was to Kanawa, where the water turned turquoise, and we floated above clownfish anemones until the crew called us back with fried bananas. That evening, we anchored near Kalong, a mangrove island home to thousands of flying foxes. As the sun dropped, the sky blackened with bats streaming out in spirals, a sound like rustling canvas filling the air.
We disembarked at 9:00 AM in Labuan Bajo after a breakfast of nasi goreng and papaya. The crew packed leftover snacks into little bags—cashews, tangerines—for the road. Neptune doesn’t have stabilisers, so the night crossing from Padar back to Labuan Bajo had some roll, but nothing extreme. If you’re prone to seasickness, pack meds for that stretch. What stood out wasn’t luxury for luxury’s sake, but the rhythm: waking with the light, moving with the tides, eating when you’re hungry. It felt less like a tour and more like being on a long, slow voyage with purpose.
