There’s been a fair share of noticeable patterns in the way people travel—especially amongst the younger crowd. I’ve steadily grown amused at the number of people I know who are in Japan every other week; who have climbed a mountain in Indonesia recently; or who have spent months traversing through quaint European cities. While the case for travelling doesn’t need to be made—we all appreciate the insight and experiences only a foreign city can lend us—I believe it’s time to start considering a new kind of travel. Leave behind terra firma, because the boat life beckons.
The idea is simple, and it begins with a liveaboard, a compound word combining the words ‘live’ and ‘aboard’. The term simply refers to a boat that is equipped to be lived on for extended periods of time, and even as a primary full-time residence in certain cases. While it’s most commonly associated with scuba diving, there are plenty of lifestyles that a liveaboard can accommodate—embark on a sailing trip to hop through the islands of Greece, moor a houseboat along Kerala’s backwaters or explore Indonesia’s islands on a floating resort (like me).
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In July 2025, a friend invited me on a liveaboard trip with her family to explore Komodo, a region located in the Lesser Sunda chain of the southern Indonesian islands. For four days and three nights, dirt and soil were to fade into the distance—the swaying of our boat was to become the new normal. Equipped with all the regular facilities of a resort, including a hot tub and sun-bathing decks, the vessel was comparable to a five-star tropical haven.While we had planned a few scuba dives at some of Komodo’s more prominent dive sites, we had also opted for a more holistic itinerary that focused on rest and relaxation. Snorkelling, hiking and animal-watching were sprinkled in, and our schedules remained entirely flexible the entire trip.
Beyond the facilities onboard, the service was impeccable. With seven guests outnumbered by nine crew members, we had everything we needed at a moment’s notice. Warm, fresh towels came folded as elaborate sea creatures; every meal, served in multiple courses, was catered to our every whim while highlighting the Indonesian palette; and piping hot tea was handed to us after each dip in the ocean.
The most understated—and therefore the best—part of a liveaboard, is the immediate lack of things to actually do. While the ship moves from one destination to the next, entertainment is severely limited. Much of my time was spent reading my novel or engaging in conversation with my friend and her family, as we lazed away under the sun. We would grab a plate of fruit from the chef, choose a spot to sunbathe in, and idle away, just staring at the vast blue. It was almost idyllic, how unproductive I was forced to be. Without sensory overstimulation, my mind was left to wander and frolic—it had never felt so restored and refreshed before.
Naturally, we made friends with the crew too. Indonesians are renowned for their friendliness and hospitality, and this sentiment travelled with them over waters too. We were enamoured of the lives of the crew—asking about their life stories, listening to their music, and learning the card games they taught us. Upon reflection, it became evident that the mundanity of each activity was forgotten simply because each member was so open and fun, alongside the fact that we had forged genuine, personal relationships with them.
Smaller moments I noticed began to shape my experience too. Catching an early-morning sunrise across the never-ending horizon while I shivered. Observing the boat boys tinker with the engines of our speedboats. Falling asleep on my room’s balcony under the stars with my legs dangling off the railing, after I’d finished journalling. Every moment was imbued with nature, a reminder to notice what is usually taken for granted.
There might not seem much to the boat life at first: sun-kissed waves, a cool breeze, and a gently rocking boat sounds picturesque, if nothing more. Surrounded by nature, my mind slowed down. You’re granted time to reconnect with both yourself and others. So if you’re looking for a more fulfilling and mindful way to spend your next holiday, consider this writer’s case for the boat life.
