Midnight. Pulau Hantu. A broken schedule, a fuel filter mutiny, and one very drunk man on a perfectly maintained Grand Banks who may or may not own Ghost Island through a highly unofficial agreement with the supernatural.

Cap’n Davo, Finnigan and the Lady in Red arrive at Singapore’s most haunted anchorage expecting peace, quiet, and maybe a decent night at anchor.

Instead, they find Captain Johnny — loud, sunburnt, mysteriously respected by the spirits, and deeply opinionated about boat brands, beer quality, and proper ghost etiquette.

Apparently, the dead have standards. No trance music. No shouting. No cheap whisky.

And if something knocks on the hull at 3AM?

Knock back.

Ghost stories. Maritime nonsense. Questionable decision-making. One suspicious light on the reef flat.

Completely factual maritime adventures. Or close enough.

Listen now to discover:
• Why Pulau Hantu is called Ghost Island
• The unofficial maritime treaty between Captain Johnny and the spirits
• Why a shiny yacht fled the island at 2AM
• What appeared on the reef flat after midnight
• And why some things are better left unwritten

You know the trip is going badly when the sentence “There’s a tentacle on the roof” becomes the least stressful part of the day.

This week:
❌ Forgotten permits
❌ Questionable decision-making
❌ Maritime professionalism
✅ Giant squid
✅ Mild panic
✅ Beer-powered navigation

Cap’n Davo heads for the Anambas convinced experience beats paperwork. The ocean disagrees.

Warning: May ruin your confidence in boating forever.

Tell us: What’s the dumbest thing you’ve done at sea and survived?

Fuel is cheaper in Batam. Everything else? Potentially life-changing.

If you’ve ever boated around Singapore and thought, “Ahh, quick run to Batam, back before dark” — congratulations. You’re exactly the kind of person this episode is for.

In Episode 2 of The Legendary True Tales of Captain Davo, the boys head across to Batam for what was supposed to be the classic local boatie special: cheap fuel, seafood, a bit of nonsense, and home in time for dinner.

Instead?

Ten suspiciously affordable beers. Dockside logistics that make absolutely no sense. A marina that feels one misunderstanding away from international incident. And a return trip through waters where every local skipper has at least one story that starts with:

“Bro… you won’t believe what happened near Batam.”

As every Singapore boater knows, there are only two kinds of trips to Batam:

1. The smooth one you brag about.

2. The one that becomes a story forever.

This one becomes a podcast episode.

With the refinery glow lighting up the horizon like the gates of hell, container ships appearing out of nowhere, fishing boats operating under the firm belief that navigation lights are optional, and enough VHF confusion to age a man ten years, the Noordic 26 heads home through waters where things can go from shiok to sketchy very, very quickly.

Naturally, this is also the exact moment Cap’n Davo decides a tactical nap below deck is appropriate.

Leaving young mate Finnigan at the helm.

At night.

Near Batam.

What could possibly go wrong?

Then comes the call.

A mysterious grey boat. No lights. No AIS. No explanation. Just a very direct message over the radio that sounds suspiciously like the beginning of a regional boating cautionary tale.

Cue panic from one side of the boat.

Complete indifference from the captain.

And the sort of decision-making that every local skipper will either deeply relate to… or immediately judge while secretly knowing they’d probably do the same.

If you’ve ever:

⚓ Said “weather looks okay lah” when it absolutely wasn’t

⚓ Pretended you totally knew where you were in the Singapore Strait

⚓ Had your crew become suddenly useless the moment things got serious

⚓ Been personally victimised by Indonesian bureaucracy, fuel docks, or mystery fees

⚓ Or told your spouse “just a quick boat trip” before disappearing for 14 hours…

This episode will feel painfully familiar.

Episode 2: The Batam Bandits is pure regional boating chaos — the kind only Singapore, Batam, and the Strait can deliver.

🎙️ The Legendary True Tales of Captain Davo — ridiculous but strangely relatable boating stories from the waters we all pretend are normal.

Warning: You may never look at a “quick Batam run” the same way again.

What do 37 otters, a marina committee, and one missing Ferragamo shoe have in common? Absolute chaos.

Cap’n Davo and Finnigan come home to Republic of Singapore Yacht Club to discover the marina under siege by a highly organised otter gang. One’s sleeping in a Sunseeker. One’s leaving fish as psychological warfare. One appears to own Pontoon C.

Meanwhile, the committee launches a full tactical response involving PowerPoints, maps, signage proposals, and meetings about future meetings.

Finnigan gets refused entry to the bar for not wearing shoes. Uncle Steven loses patience. Kenneth starts naming otters. A fish-based peace treaty fails spectacularly.

Then the lady in red arrives and solves the whole thing in under two minutes while everyone else is still discussing agenda points.

The otters came back.

Something else did too.

47 boats. 300 drunk people. One inflatable flamingo. And the seven words that silenced an entire anchorage.

Cap'n Davo promised a quiet Saturday. Finnigan knew it was a lie. The lady in red didn't care either way.

What started as a peaceful swim stop at Lazarus Island turned into a full-scale maritime siege when a stag party, an HR department on a team-building retreat gone wrong, and a man in salmon shorts who used the word "synergy" on a boat all decided they wanted aboard the Noordic 26.

Finnigan — one man, one boat hook, zero shoes — held off nine attackers from two flanks while Cap'n Davo sat at the helm drinking and providing unhelpful commentary.

Then the lady in red stood up. And every man in the anchorage forgot how to function.

What happened next involved a stolen bottle opener, a pincer movement by marketing executives, a flamingo that slowly deflated during a failed seduction attempt, and seven words spoken so quietly that three hundred people heard them in their bones.

We can't tell you what the seven words were. Nobody agrees. But we can tell you this: the Ed Sheeran stopped playing. And that improved everyone's day.