When our writer Eulanda Shead Osagiede boarded Rascal Voyages in Wakatobi, she anticipated adventure. What she found instead was something richer—an intimate glimpse into the sea, its people, and the stories that stay with you long after you return to shore.
From Familiar Waters to Something New
I’ve been on my share of sailing adventures. From small-boat journeys to multi-day expeditions, the sea has always been part of my life. I grew up in a working-class family in the U.S., and while our trips weren’t luxurious, they planted in me a deep love for the ocean. Over the years, I’ve explored waterways near and far, each experience unique in its own right. But none of them prepared me for Rascal Voyages.
This wasn’t just a sailing trip. It was an invitation into a world where the rhythm of the sea shapes daily life and where every detail—from the crew’s warmth to the untouched beauty of Wakatobi—felt intentional.
Getting There: From London to Wakatobi
Reaching Wakatobi is an adventure in itself—and part of what makes it so extraordinary. Tucked away in Southeast Sulawesi, Indonesia, this remote marine paradise is far removed from the usual tourist trail. Unlike Bali or Jakarta, Wakatobi rarely sees visitors, which is precisely why its reefs remain some of the most pristine on the planet.
I flew from London to Doha, then on to Jakarta, continued to Makassar, and finally connected to Baubau before embarking on a 13-hour overnight crossing aboard Rascal Voyages. It’s a long journey, but each leg builds anticipation. By the time we reached the calm, turquoise waters of Wakatobi, that distance from the world felt less like a challenge and more like a privilege—an invitation to experience something truly untouched.
The Rascal Voyages team met us at Baubau Airport with cool towels and canisters of ice water, each labelled with personalised leather name tags. That small detail set the tone for what was to come. We boarded a tender and cut across the quiet water toward our floating villa, glowing amber against the twilight sky.
Life Aboard Rascal
Six of Rascal’s 14 crew members waited on deck, greeting us with a warmth that felt more like a homecoming than a formal welcome. Within moments of stepping aboard, the exhaustion of 30-plus hours of travel simply faded. The air carried the clean scent of salt and polished teak, the soft hum of the engine beneath our feet, and the quiet excitement of stepping into a slower rhythm.
Rascal itself was a study in understated luxury. Built in the traditional phinisi style, it married Indonesian craftsmanship with modern comfort. Wide teak decks opened into breezy lounges designed for lingering. The five guest cabins were bright, welcoming, and thoughtfully varied—each with its own distinct touches that made it feel personal rather than cookie-cutter.
All cabins were sea-facing, and depending on their position aboard, each offered a slightly different perspective of the water. For a yacht of this size, the rooms were surprisingly spacious, making it easy to settle in and feel at home.
The Crew: Hospitality That Felt Like Home
Remember those six crew members who greeted us at twilight, all smiles and warmth? That feeling never faded. The welcome we received on day one set the tone—not just for our time on board, but for how Rascal’s crew showed up, again and again.
Their hospitality went far beyond polite service. It was instinctive, personal, and grounded in a kind of care that didn’t need to be performed to be felt.
Each time we left the yacht for an excursion, the crew gathered to send us off. And when we returned—sun-soaked and salt-streaked from the sea—they were there again, welcoming us back with cool towels, cheerful hellos, and a bespoke drink tailored to the moment. On sweltering afternoons, it might be cucumber and lime; after an evening excursion, something soothing and restorative.
This wasn’t scripted hospitality. It was genuine, thoughtful care—the kind that made 30+ hours of travel disappear and turned a yacht in the middle of remote Wakatobi into a place that felt like family.
Dining at Sea: Intentionality in Every Bite
Meals aboard Rascal Voyages were as personal as they were exceptional. Each dish reflected both the region’s flavours and the crew’s attention to every detail. My gluten- and dairy-free requirements were seamlessly accommodated—not as an afterthought, but as part of the experience.
Breakfasts were made to order, from a smoky scallop scramble with gluten-free toast and carrot-ginger energiser juice to a decadent lobster scramble paired with a refreshing green juice. Lunches often turned into vibrant spreads, like a picnic of fresh wraps, baba ganoush, and beetroot hummus, while dinners showcased the best of land and sea—lemongrass red snapper with cassava and coconut, or grilled mushrooms over silky puréed carrots.
And then there were the sambals: a line-up of fiery, fragrant Indonesian chilli pastes that invited us to explore new layers of flavour, bite by bite. It wasn’t just dining; it was care and creativity served at sea.
Experiences That Go Beyond the Water
What makes Rascal Voyages truly special isn’t just where it sails—but how it shows you the world. Our week included everything from cultural immersion to barefoot luxury.
We visited two Bajau communities, where we spent time with local families and were welcomed into homes built on stilts over the water. On Snake Island, we enjoyed a private beach day—picnicking, snorkelling, and walking the sands hoping not to run into any famed sea snakes.
One evening, the crew surprised us with a beachfront dinner under a sky of twinkling lights. A band formed from Rascal’s own crew—featuring our dive master, Fahrul, on guitar—performed acoustic covers as we dined on fresh seafood grilled over fire.
On our final afternoon, we took part in a cooking class with Head Chef Ega. It was held on the open deck where we usually shared our meals, and together we prepared dishes that would later be featured in our farewell feast that evening. Ega’s attention to flavour and balance was extraordinary—and the pride he took in showcasing Indonesia’s culinary heritage made it feel like more than a meal. It felt like a gift.
Every meal on Rascal was thoughtful, nourishing, and deeply personal. It was remarkable to see this same level of care extend far beyond the table.
Each day, the crew prepared us for our next adventure with the same quiet precision—checking our gear, guiding us through dive briefings, and making sure we felt ready for what awaited below the surface.
And that’s how we met Lauda, a traditional Bajau free diver whose presence in the water felt nothing short of extraordinary.
Meeting Lauda, the Real-Life Aquaman
We met Lauda early in the journey, a traditional Bajau free diver whose reputation preceded him. The Bajau, often called “sea nomads,” have spent generations living in harmony with the ocean, and science has even shown that they have evolved larger spleens—allowing them to dive deeper and stay submerged longer than most humans could dream.
Lauda carried this lineage with quiet, unshakable confidence. There was something in his presence—a blend of strength, patience, and an almost meditative calm—that immediately drew you in.
His face, lined gently by years at sea, held the kind of wisdom you don’t need words to understand. Though we spoke through Jay, one of Rascal’s dive masters, Lauda’s kindness came through in every pause, every careful gesture.
Soon, we would follow him to the reef, where we’d see for ourselves why many call him the real-life Aquaman.
A Dive Like No Other
The day we joined Lauda in the water, our group split between scuba divers and snorkelers. I had been eager to try scuba diving—it’s something I’ve wanted to experience for years—but my discovery dive didn’t go as planned.
I couldn’t get past the discomfort of the kit. I had spent days practicing removing water from my mask under water, but I was given a different mask for my discovery dive, and I kept exhaling through my nose. Eventually, I chose to listen to my instincts and stay closer to the surface. And I don’t regret it for a second.
From above, I watched Lauda move across the reef with impossible grace, his feet finding balance on sharp coral as if it were soft ground.
I’ve had my share of reef cuts—they’re brutal—yet he walked as though the ocean had shaped itself for him. A barracuda, long and silver, darted between the coral, but Lauda’s aim was unerring.
Lauda didn’t rush. He simply drew back his arm with calm precision, the spear an extension of his body. In a single motion—swift, exact—he released it. The water seemed to still as the spear struck with otherworldly precision.
I gasped into my snorkel, suspended above him in awe. It felt less like watching a hunt and more like witnessing a ritual—a man in perfect harmony with a world the rest of us could only visit in brief, breathless intervals.
And then, as if emerging from myth, Lauda rose. Bubbles trailed from his nose, his catch in one hand, his spear in the other, his face calm and unshaken. For a fleeting second, I understood why some call him the real Aquaman.
I didn’t know it then, but this image would stay with me—the quiet mastery, the unspoken respect between Lauda and the sea. It became the thread that wove the rest of my journey together, a reminder that some worlds are not conquered, only entered when you’re ready.
That night, the same barracuda became part of our dinner, served alongside fragrant sambals and shared laughter. It wasn’t just a meal—it was a story told on a plate.
The Ocean Will Wait
Although I didn’t get the dive I imagined, that decision didn’t feel like a loss. If anything, it deepened what this journey truly became for me. I gained a sense of trust—in myself, in my pace—and the quiet assurance that the ocean will still be there when I’m ready.
And in a way, I already carry it with me. Because every time I think of Wakatobi, I see Lauda: gliding over the reef like it was second nature, surfacing with a barracuda in hand and the calm of someone who’s clearly part fish. Call him the real-life Aquaman, if you like—I certainly do.
That image—Lauda rising from the deep—reminds me that some experiences don’t need to be rushed. They find you when you’re ready to meet them. And thanks to Rascal Voyages, I was given the space, the care, and the kind of journey that made me ready for everything else.
Rascal Voyages offers bespoke yacht expeditions in Indonesia, with rates starting from $12,000 per night for an exclusive five-cabin charter. Additionally, travellers have the option to join a scheduled departure and book a cabin starting from US $2,500 + tax per night. Learn more at rascalvoyages.com.
Read more adventures with Eulanda here.
