Dragon Dive Komodo Liveaboard: the Journey Continues
Settling in to the rhythm and discovering if a Komodo liveaboard is really the best way to experience this legendary place.
The engine rumbles to life, the port slips from view and with a giant stride into blue, the rhythm of Komodo takes over.
This isn’t just a dive trip — it’s a test: is life on a liveaboard really the best way to experience one of the world’s most legendary dive destinations?
In the first part of this series, which you can read here, I talked about booking my liveaboard with Dragon Dive Komodo and how I got there.
The main reason I booked a liveaboard in addition to doing day-boat diving was to get a complete experience and see if a liveaboard is really necessary to experience Komodo. Honestly? It’s not. That doesn’t mean booking a liveaboard wasn’t an excellent choice.
Once we made our way to the port and through the ferry terminal to the quay, a launch was there to meet us and take us to the boat. The boats moor farther out in the harbor due to space and, I’m sure, cost considerations. Our gear and luggage were waiting for us on the boat.
We had a quick briefing about the boat, got introduced to the crew and were underway about 30 minutes after we boarded. Sure, they didn’t waste any time getting moving, but there was no part of the trip that felt rushed. They just wanted to get us diving as soon as possible.
While en route to our first dive site, Siaba Besar, we put our bags in our cabins and went about getting our kits set up. There were five of us in total—the smallest liveaboard group I’ve ever been part of. The Dragon Dive Komodo day boats had more people.
Siaba Besar: Not Your Average Check-Out Dive
All liveaboards make the first dive a check-out dive. It’s a smart practice. The operator and guides need to understand the capabilities of the divers and organize people into groups. With five of us, that wasn’t super critical, and I swapped groups about halfway through the trip.
That said, most check-out dives max out around 12 meters (40 feet) to keep things easy. We hit 22 meters (72 feet) on this dive, with a limit of 25 meters (82 feet). This set the tone: the cruise was not for beginners.
I can’t remember if Dragon Dive quoted a preferred number of dives to have before signing up, but I wouldn’t suggest this trip for anyone who isn’t an Advanced Open Water Diver or equivalent. I think every guest had at least 100 dives. Two of us hit our 300th dives back to back during the trip.
We were all diving nitrox, which was included in the price, and the gas analysis was a bit strange to me. They have a membrane nitrox system onboard, and we each had two tanks rather than filling the same tank repeatedly. This made sense logistically since we left our rigs on the tender between dives. For the first few days, one of the crew would analyze our tanks and tell us the mix before we set out. That seemed odd to me, as I’m used to checking my own breathing gas. Eventually, that stopped and we all just locked our computers in at EAN29.
The water was a comfortable 28 degrees Celsius (82 degrees Fahrenheit), and my 3mm full wetsuit was perfect—though not for long. Dives got down to 25°C (77°F) and for the rest of the trip, I was wearing a long-sleeve 2mm Titanium shirt and that kept me comfy. We backrolled off the dinghy into a million fusiliers, a common occurrence in Komodo, and set about proving ourselves. There was no current to speak of and we logged a 59-minute dive. Everyone’s buoyancy and gas use were solid. One item to note: while I was kitting up, our lead dive master, Erno, informed me that gloves were not allowed on the first dive. I was allowed to wear them on all the other dives, just not on the check-out dive. I agreed. Gloves are very useful in Komodo.
With the check-out dive done, the crew weighed anchor, the guests adjusted their weights and we headed toward Mawan.
Daily Flow: Life and Diving Aboard
Life on the boat is simple. Most of us were up by around 6:00 a.m. for coffee. The first dive briefing was usually around 6:30 a.m., but the schedule wasn’t rigid.
Erno, our lead dive master, kept us informed about the plan and explained his decisions. If we needed to be up earlier due to currents, tides, or boat traffic, he told us multiple times the day before. The communication was excellent.
After the first dive, breakfast was either nearly ready or already waiting. A bell alerted us to briefings and meals—standard liveaboard procedure.
Between dives we sailed to the next site. The boat was always moored for meals. We did a few night crossings to beat other boats to morning dive sites. Sometimes we had an hour between dives, sometimes two or three. In general, we made three dives per day, occasionally four. Erno kept a close eye on conditions and directed the captain to change course when needed. He didn’t avoid Komodo’s legendary currents but kept us out of dangerous "washing machine" zones and ensured the dinghy could drop us safely.
All our night dives were in protected coves or bays, which meant we occasionally woke up to barely touched scenery. Night dives started in full darkness. Unlike the dusk-night dive model I’d seen in Egypt, Dragon Dive night dives didn’t begin before 6:30 p.m. We always backrolled in with torches on. I even saw my first night-dive shark—a possibly annoyed whitetip who cruised past at a safe distance.
After the night dive, we’d eat, relax and then turn in. The crew took over the foredeck after guests went to bed, usually logging some phone time.
For the first few nights, the engine and generator were kept on to power systems, since the boat’s batteries didn’t last long. Evidently, the engines caused the top cabins to vibrate and kept some guests awake. A quick request solved that. The same went for water pumps—if the water wasn’t running, a quick word to the crew fixed it. Hot water was limited, though. I never managed more than 10 seconds of it, despite trying multiple times a day. Other guests had the same experience.
Splashdown: Why We’re Really Here
Komodo is world-famous for strong currents and it delivered. Every so-called "drift" dive I had done before felt like a warm-up compared to The Shotgun. The Shotgun is like diving in the “Is it Live or is it Memorex” advertisement or Jeremy Clarkson driving the Ariel Atom. It’s a face-distorting, purge-button pushing, regulator-hose yanking thrill ride and every time I finished the dive, I enthusiastically screamed, “let’s do it again!!” as soon as I got back on the dinghy. (A full write-up on The Shotgun is coming next—subscribe so you don’t miss it.)
Currents bring nutrients, which mean healthy reefs, fish life and pelagics stopping by to feed or get cleaned. They also bring turbidity and most dives are shallow. I’m unashamedly a technical diver, so 30 meters (100 feet) is shallow. That meant visibility wasn’t amazing. Still, 20 meters (66 feet) give or take is decent. The fish were unusually friendly. On multiple occasions I was within two meters (6 feet) of a manta ray. On one dive, a manta flapping overhead displaced enough water to push me back.
Mawan and Manta Point both stand out. You’re not guaranteed mantas, but you’ll almost always see several. I lost count at each site.
I preferred Mawan. It’s a shallow, gentle drift where the mantas play in the current and ignore you. You might even see them breach the surface from your boat. We barely cracked 10 meters (32 feet), and if you just go with the flow, you could stay down forever on an AL80.
Mawan’s bottom is mostly dead coral with a few rocky patches of growth. But you’re really there for the rays. We drifted, and if you wanted to hang with a manta, you grabbed a rock and chilled. The current wasn’t enough to rip you off your handhold like at The Shotgun. And yes—don’t grab coral. At healthy sites in Komodo, even finding a rock to grab can be tricky.
For my money, Manta Alley is the best. The topography is more dramatic, and you can get deeper. We backrolled and made our way to a manta viewing station at 25 meters (82 feet): a sandy bottom with a line of rocks for divers to kneel behind. We were briefed not to cross the line. I wasn’t used to kneeling, and I kept lifting slightly with each breath.
We spent over 10 minutes watching mantas glide in and out. Even at that depth, our gas consumption was low because we weren’t moving. After that, we explored the topography—hills, valleys and more rays.
The mantas here got closer than anywhere else. One came within two meters of me. One of our dive guides was so close that his exhaled bubbles tickled a manta’s giant belly and startled it.
Manta Point is similar to Mawan but with more structure: valleys, plateaus and bowls. Some of the bowls might be remnants of dynamite fishing, which is now illegal in Indonesia. The current was gentle. We drifted, saw a handful of mantas and shared space with a giant sweetlips at a cleaning station. I logged over an hour at 10 meters (32 feet) in 29 degrees Celsius (84 degrees Fahrenheit) on my 300th dive, surfacing with 90 bar. Then it was back to the boat to prep for The Shotgun.
Shore Excursions & Surface Time
While the diving is the main reason to book a liveaboard, shore excursions were included. We visited Komodo Island for a guided dragon trek. It’s touristy, but still cool. The dragons go where they want and mostly sleep or patrol the beaches. After that, we dinghied to a dragon-free beach for swimming. Be prepared for the obligatory overpriced souvenir sales pitch.
We also did a sunrise hike for a panoramic view of the park. It was packed with tourists but still awe-inspiring. Both liveaboards and tour boats visit the site.
At the start, I said you don’t need a liveaboard to dive Komodo. I stand by that—it’s a small place. But our crew worked hard to keep us away from crowded sites. Day boats don’t have that flexibility. A liveaboard gets you there first and helps avoid diving in churned-up water.
Timing also matters. On most dives, we were the only group underwater. At iconic sites like Manta Alley, The Cauldron and Batu Bolong, we had the reef to ourselves. Our guides said that during high season, that’s rare. They coordinate with other liveaboards to stagger entry times by at least 20 minutes.
I also got lucky with the scenery. I was there just after rainy season, so the islands were lush and green. It made my photos look great—maybe too great. I’m told Komodo gets pretty brown later in the year.
Next time: I’ll stop teasing and focus solely on The Shotgun. Subscribe so you don’t miss it.
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