Seas the Day: Inside the Ritz-Carlton Luminara’s maiden Asian voyage

Our van rumbles through the Philippines, cutting across emerald fields dotted with storks and backed by distant mountain ranges.

Just as I begin to entertain the dangerous thought that I could happily settle here forever, we are brought to a stop at a security checkpoint by an intimidating-looking armed officer.

This 4,000ha expanse of “paradise” is Iwahig Prison and Penal Farm, a facility unlike any other in the country. Established in 1904 during the American colonial period, it is built on the radical idea of rehabilitation through hard work and self-sufficiency.

With no discernible walls, the facility is home to around 4,000 inmates — known as PDLs, or persons deprived of liberty — and, in some cases, their families.

Some of the men are at work in the open fields, harvesting rice under the morning sun. Others gather in the recreation hall, where tables are laid out with hand-woven keychains, carved trinkets and other small souvenirs for visiting tourists.

By teaching skills such as farming, business management, and traditional craftsmanship, the prison enables inmates to earn a modest but meaningful income.

Iwahig is an anomaly, but a compelling one. Its rehabilitation outcomes are said to be so successful that former and current inmates are now being tapped for government-led agricultural initiatives.

Puerto Princesa, home to Iwahig, is our final Philippine port of call on Luminara’s first-ever maiden voyage to this corner of Asia, and I feel an unexpected pang of wistfulness as we leave.

Life onboard the Luminara

Launched in July 2025 by The Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection, the 242m vessel that blurs the line between a floating hotel and a cruise ship. 

The newest and largest in the fleet after Evrima and Ilma, the Luminara builds on feedback and experience from its predecessors, while retaining a size that allows access to ports larger cruise ships cannot reach, including Port Blair in the Andaman, El Nido in the Philippines, as well as the remote Amami islands in Japan.

More intimate than grand, it houses 226 suites designed to echo the elegance and luxury of a Ritz-Carlton hotel ashore.

I’ve sailed a similar route on an ocean liner carrying more than 3,000 passengers. But the contrast is stark: suites were worn and old-fashioned, buffet queues endless, and the ship itself seemed to creak and groan. As mass-market cruise ships balloon in size and spectacle, opting for a smaller boat feels almost subversive — cruising distilled to its essentials.

Onboard Luminara, which hosts just 452 guests, rooms in all categories are sleek and luxuriously appointed, restaurants are never crowded, and there’s never a need to jostle for space in the hot tubs. From the gym to the restaurants, staff greet you by your first name, often before you’ve even had time to register theirs.

One night, after the seas grow unexpectedly rough and we casually mention feeling seasick, we return to our suite to find ginger ale, green apples and a personal note from our in-suite ambassador, Albert.

My aptly named Grand Suite features a marble-clad bathroom with a tub and shower, a living and dining area, his-and-hers walk-in wardrobes, and a massive terrace with a sitting area and deck chairs. While such proportions may feel routine in a luxury hotel on land, at sea, they take on an entirely different significance.

This opulent space becomes our private sanctuary for the next 12 days, as we leave smoggy wintertime Hong Kong behind and sail across the South China Sea towards the sun-drenched coast of the Philippines.

Seven-night voyages with The Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection typically begin at around US$10,000 ($12,600) per person. The fare covers Wi-Fi, food and beverages, a fully stocked minibar replenished daily, and 24-hour in-suite dining. Shore excursions, while solid and insightful, are offered at an additional cost.

For now, the ship will sail back and forth between Hong Kong and Singapore, stopping at larger ports in Vietnam and Thailand, as well as smaller ports such as Koh Kood, before continuing on to Japan and Alaska.

It is expected to return to Asia in early 2027, with a slate of East Asian itineraries that include not just the Philippines but also Indonesia’s Flores Island and Komodo.

Between ports (and plates)

When not exploring the cobbled streets of the Spanish colonial town of Vigan, swimming in the limestone karst-fringed lakes of Coron, or relaxing amid Lagen’s dramatic island setting in El Nido, guests fill their days with cultural and historical lectures, meditation sessions, and art and wine workshops.

In the evenings, the Luminara’s intimate Living Room becomes the social heart of the ship, where guests gather for a classical piano performance or a Whitney Houston tribute, before surrendering — as one does on a cruise — to late-night disco. 

There is also a serene onboard spa with 11 treatment rooms, where guests sip Moët in the relaxation lounge before drifting off for treatments, some of which can be enjoyed outdoors on deck when the weather cooperates.

One gets a fleeting sense that this could be a “regular” sailing, until the illusion is broken by US$30,000 Hermes Kellys casually displayed in the Luminara’s boutiques — a discreet reminder that this is very much not that kind of ship.

One of the distinct pleasures of travelling by yacht is its inflatable marina, which opens for a few hours whenever the vessel drops anchor. Guests can swim in the netted sea pool or make use of the array of water toys, including kayaks and handheld sea scooters.

Food, unsurprisingly, is a major highlight onboard. Guests are spoilt for choice with seven bars and five restaurants, four of which are complimentary, and the menus are refreshed every three days to stave off boredom. 

There’s a sushi venue where fresh wasabi is grated tableside and fish sliced to order, and the more formal Seta su Luminara helmed by Italian Michelin-starred chef Fabio Trabocchi, who, by sheer luck, is sailing with us alongside his wife and five-year-old for the duration of the voyage. 

One evening, he appears at our table — sans child — as we sit down to a Michelin-standard seven-course dinner.

“Remember me?” he says, slipping off his glasses and catching us off guard.

Earlier that day at Boracay’s Motag Living Museum, he had blended in anonymously among the guests, indulging his son’s enthusiasm for seeing a buffalo up close.

Big names from the culinary world, it turns out, are not uncommon here. Singapore’s award-winning pastry chef Janice Wong is also onboard, crafting her signature desserts across several restaurants and hosting a tea session on one of the afternoons.

Lobster and caviar might sound indulgent, but on Luminara, they’re everyday staples. The former is served generously — heaped onto a croissant at breakfast — as though it were the most natural thing in the world. There is also a dedicated wine vault stocked with bottles and spirits from around the world, including kosher options for those who seek them.

The yacht also has its own in-house sake and tea sommelier, Myles. When I mention that I’m a devoted tea drinker, I receive a handwritten invitation delivered to my suite, inviting me to a private tea-tasting session. There, she brews a selection of loose-leaf teas for the five of us.

Beyond the gloss

That said, even the most luxurious experiences have their shortcomings. The water pressure in my suite could be stronger, and it would be nice to have some snorkelling gear and flippers at the marina.

Communication between staff and guests could also be tighter. This becomes apparent during a kerfuffle in El Nido, when the ship’s tenders are unable to land after a recent typhoon destroys the port’s designated piers, causing significant delays to shore excursions. Passengers are left temporarily in the dark.

Apologies follow swiftly, however, accompanied by complimentary gift bags from luxury skincare label Espa waiting in our suites, a quiet acknowledgement that things did not go to plan.

It is precisely these small, considered touches that inspire repeat loyalty. During a dessert-and-cocktail pairing session hosted by chef Wong, I strike up a conversation with a fellow guest who tells me he has logged nearly 80 sailing days with The Ritz-Carlton Yacht Collection — and keeps returning, despite receiving no upgrades or discounts even as a Marriott Lifetime Platinum member.

“Somehow, they always find a way to make each voyage better,” he says, noting that he plans to remain onboard for a back-to-back sailing once the ship arrives in Singapore.

Formerly in finance, he and his wife retired early after building their wealth through early stock investments, and today form part of the ship’s ever-evolving cast of characters.

The privacy afforded by such an exclusive setting encourages a certain openness. People are friendly, relaxed — occasionally even boisterous — and refreshingly free of pretence. 

Over cocktails, stories spill easily. One guest speaks casually about undergoing chemo, while another recounts growing up in poverty in northern Philippines before building a cosmetics empire in the United States. 

Conversations drift fluidly from private jet adventures to reinvention and philanthropy. It is the kind of social environment where success is assumed, and therefore no longer needs to be performed.

Long after the ports blur together, it is these people who stay with me — the Iwahig inmates working toward a better life; the children of Motag who spend their weekends playing among rice fields instead of on iPads; the guest who is living his best life while fighting cancer; the chef chasing buffaloes with his son; and Albert, who appears with green apples before I’ve even finished moaning about feeling ill.

On a superyacht where almost everything is curated, these unscripted moments are what linger. Not the destinations alone, but the stories shared between them.