About Bhavana
The first morning, I woke before sunrise to the soft creak of Bhavana’s teak frame settling in the swell. A crew member handed me sweet, thick coffee on the upper deck just as the sky over Wayag turned from charcoal to rose. We were anchored in a glassy cove, no other boats in sight — just the occasional plop of a squid jumping. I remember thinking, this is how Raja Ampat should be seen: slow, quiet, and with nowhere else to be.
We spent three days weaving through the northern archipelago — Wayag, Arborek, the Dampier Strait. Each dive site had its rhythm. At Cape Kri, we drifted along a wall so thick with fusiliers and sweetlips I lost track of time. The crew timed our dives perfectly: warm towels waiting topside, chilled water always within reach. One afternoon, after a two-tank dive near Mioskon, we anchored in a tiny bay off Arborek Island. A local family paddled over in a dugout canoe selling freshly cracked coconuts. We swam right off the back deck under a sky turning violet.
Bhavana herself felt like a quiet extension of the sea. At 48 metres, she had space without feeling empty. The upper deck lounge was my favourite — low-slung daybeds, no railings blocking the view. I’d stretch out there after dinner with a book while the crew quietly reset tables below. Our cabin was forward on the main deck, wide porthole facing the water, cool air from the split-system unit just enough to take the edge off the night. Storage was built deep into the hull side — thoughtful, not flashy.
One morning, we pulled up to a ridge in the Dampier Strait and drifted over a school of wobbegongs curled like ancient scrolls on the sand. A manta cruised by at eye level, its mouth open, gills pulsing. The dive guide later said it was a regular — locals call her M007. Back on board, lunch was grilled mahi-mahi with jackfruit sambal, served on handmade ceramic plates. Nothing felt overproduced. Even the safety briefings were crisp, in English and Bahasa, never theatrical. We ended our trip at Wayag’s famous viewpoint — the climb is steep, but worth it. From the top, the limestone towers looked like they’d been dropped randomly from the sky, surrounded by reefs so bright they glowed under the surface.
