It happened. Finally. In May 2025 we made it back to one of those places that never quite let you go — Palau. A tiny island nation, tucked away somewhere deep in the Pacific Ocean. You don’t stop there “on the way.” You go there on purpose. And that’s exactly why it stays so… real.
We hadn't been back since the pandemic. And honestly, it felt like we weren't just returning to a dot on a map — but to old friends who had been waiting all this time.
Our journey took place aboard a new yacht, the Black Pearl — a fresh operator that launched right in the middle of the whole COVID era. Everything new, clean, thoughtfully put together. But the main thing isn't the yacht.
The main thing is over the side.
The islands, scattered like mushrooms across a turquoise expanse. The horizon — open, as if no one had ever touched it. The water so clear that sometimes you catch yourself wondering: is there even any water there at all?
It feels as though the ocean, during that long pause, truly exhaled… and came back to itself.
Every morning began the same beautiful way: coffee in hand, a gentle breeze, and right alongside the hull — mantas. Not just passing through. Dancing. Calmly, majestically, as if to show that this world is still theirs, and we are merely guests.
The dives — exactly the kind people fly halfway around the world for. Clean, alive, full of life. No unnecessary noise.
After the yacht, we were in no hurry to head home. We stayed on for a few more days — just to breathe it all in. A hotel, warm sand, azure shores. And, of course, flights over the archipelago — to see it all from above. When you look down from the air, it finally becomes clear: there are almost no places like this left on the planet.
Thank you to everyone who joined us on this journey.
And something tells us… we'll be back.
