Wayag: The World’s Secret Playground

Today I offer you what I found to be my most beautiful place on the planet: Wayag, about 50 miles north of civilization in Raja Ampat, Indonesia. It’s not a town, not even a village—just a wild chain of jungle-topped limestone islands scattered like green dragon scales across water so clear it feels Photoshopped. Think Avatar colliding with Jurassic World and then dozing off in the tropics.

The first time I went, I was completely alone. Anchored in perfect solitude. Imagine waking up, stepping on deck, and realizing that every peak, every cove, every reef is yours. No tour groups, no souvenir stands—And here’s the kicker: there are no rules. No “don’t walk here,” no “keep off the sand.” You can light a fire on the beach, climb a jagged little mountain, dive down coral slopes, or howl at the stars like a lunatic pirate captain—it’s all yours.

Wayag is technically inside Raja Ampat Marine Park (home to more species of reef fish than anywhere else on Earth), but when you’re standing there, it feels like the last place on the planet that hasn’t been tamed.

The Rock Islands of Palau and the Bay of Islands in Fiji might take silver and bronze, but Wayag wins gold by default. Why? Because nobody’s there. The absence of people is its crown jewel. And that’s everything—it’s the reason I left on this trip in the first place. To stumble on places where you can actually feel like an explorer again, even if your ship happens to have a diesel engine, solar panels, and a Starlink dish bolted on the stern.

Wayag is proof that some dreams are real—you just have to sail far enough to find them.

Days Sober: 2,070