The Beauty of Raja Ampat – Part 1, above water

When I last wrote about Raja Ampat, I focused on one of its less attractive features: plastic. Unfortunately, the problem is real and impossible to ignore. But it is only part of the story.

For nearly a decade, our son Rivers and daughter-in-law Laura have compared every dive destination they visited to Raja Ampat, usually to the detriment of the other location. By the time we arrived, expectations were dangerously high. Most places struggle under that kind of reputation.

Raja Ampat somehow exceeded it.

For those unfamiliar with Indonesia, Raja Ampat lies in the far eastern reaches of the country, near Papua. It is remote even by Indonesian standards. We spent several months exploring the region, interrupted only by our visa run to Australia, and quickly discovered that its reputation is well deserved.

Part of the appeal is that sense of isolation. We arrived near the end of the cruising season after most of the visiting boats had moved on. There were days when we saw no other cruising boats at all. Villages were scattered far apart, supplies were limited, and provisioning required the sort of planning normally associated with an ocean passage, except this passage came with anchorages, occasional coconuts, and the possibility of acquiring bananas.

One of our favorite anchorages was Yangello. Tucked into a sheltered bay, it seemed to capture everything we loved about Raja Ampat. The water shifted between turquoise and deep blue depending on the light. Mangroves lined the shore. Parrots crossed overhead. Bird calls drifted from the jungle throughout the day. The snorkeling was excellent, both along the reefs and among the mangroves, and the entire bay seemed to encourage slowing down and staying awhile.

This was the view, looking north from Rhapsody. 

And this was the view looking south

 Like much of Raja Ampat, Yangello also had several homestays. Despite the name, a homestay here is not usually a family opening their home to visitors. Instead, they are often clusters of simple huts built over the water, with a communal dining area where guests gather for meals.

The food was simple and the families always did their best to accommodate us, although vegetarian dining in a region famous for its seafood occasionally required a bit of creativity. There were times when it seemed entirely possible that fish was considered a vegetable.

The local homestay became one of our favorite places to visit for dinner. They also helped us obtain gasoline and delivered bananas to the boat, a service that felt remarkably luxurious in such a remote location.

Unfinished/abandoned homestay being used as a rest stop by divers between dives.

Scattered throughout Raja Ampat are abandoned or half-finished homestays. We were told that many of them were casualties of the COVID years, when tourism came to an abrupt halt and construction projects were abandoned midstream. In a busier destination they might have felt sad or out of place. Here they often felt oddly peaceful. Many occupy spectacular locations over clear water and have found a second life as unofficial rest stops for snorkelers and divers. Some even feature swings hanging over the water. I tried to capture one of them in a water picture.

Not every day looked like a travel brochure. Some mornings brought impossibly blue skies reflected in equally blue water. Other days arrived wrapped in gray clouds and muted colors. Raja Ampat wears both moods equally.

Quite a blue day

On one particularly overcast morning, while we sat quietly at anchor, a group of dolphins appeared near Rhapsody. Seeing dolphins while underway is common enough. Seeing them visit while we are sitting peacefully at anchor is much rarer. It felt like a small gift from Raja Ampat before they disappeared back into the gray water.

The very next day, but at least there were dolphins! 

The wildlife provided other forms of entertainment as well. A pair of Willy Wagtails adopted our rigging as part of their territory. One morning I woke to their sweet songs and decided they deserved a photograph. Camera in hand, I poked my head out of the hatch. The cheerful melodies instantly transformed into sharp warning calls and a look of such intense disapproval that I briefly considered apologizing. The resulting photograph suggests the bird still has not forgiven me.

Then there were the jellyfish. One day they simply appeared behind Rhapsody, small but numerous. Unable to identify them, we carefully weighed our options and then went swimming anyway. I am happy to report that everyone survived.

The jellyfish in this picture look like stars twinkling in the sky

The beauty above the water alone would have justified the journey. The quiet anchorages, jungle-covered islands, spectacular sunsets, and feeling of being far removed from the rest of the world combined to create a place unlike any we have visited before. More importantly, it somehow managed to live up to years of stories and expectations.

Yet for all of Raja Ampat's beauty above the surface, it is what lies beneath the water that has made it legendary.

After months of snorkeling and diving among some of the healthiest reefs we have ever seen, we finally understand why every dive destination in our family seems to be compared to Raja Ampat.

Next time, we'll show you what we found below the surface.