Captain Davo's True Tales

When a cutting-edge electric yacht is remotely shut down at 41 knots and sinks into 410 metres of water, Cap’n Davo and barefoot Finnigan uncover a far bigger problem: someone is quietly deciding which maritime technologies survive and which disappear.From Singapore’s marinas to the waters of Southeast Asia, this season follows stolen battery tech, sabotaged prototypes, stalled repairs, and a shadowy force with the power to switch off the future. Petrol engines are loud. Electric boats are silent. But the silence has started to feel deliberate.

Well mate… this is the one.After chasing rumours from marina bars, dodging trouble across the Strait, and following every dodgy lead they could find, Captain Davo and Finnigan are finally within reach of the Jade Lion. But as any sailor knows, it’s the last few miles that usually get interesting.Who’s been telling the truth? Who’s been playing everyone from the start? And is the Jade Lion really worth everything that’s been risked to find it?Cast off one last time and join us for the Season 1 finale of Captain Davo’s True Tales. Fair winds… and keep one eye over your shoulder.

You know those moments when everyone in the room has a different version of the same story… and every single one of them sounds believable?That was Langkawi.What started as a few beers between sailors quickly turned into the strangest conversation we’d ever had.The Jade Lion wasn’t just an old statue anymore. It had become the centre of decades of rumours, disappearances, betrayals, and secrets that refused to stay buried.Every captain had a piece of the puzzle.Every answer created three new questions.And just when we thought we were finally getting close to the truth… one phone call changed everything.Someone knew where the Jade Lion was and someone else was already on their way to find it.The race had begun.

You know that feeling when everyone keeps telling you not to trust someone… and then someone else tells you not to trust the people warning you?Yeah well.. welcome to Batam.We’d gone looking for answers about the jade lion, but instead found an old American sailor who’d been drifting around Indonesia for so long he seemed to know everyone’s secrets.The more he talked, the less any of it sounded like coincidence.Missing boats. Smuggling. Familiar faces showing up in places they really shouldn’t.For the first time, we started wondering whether this whole thing had been planned long before we’d ever stumbled across that lion.Naturally, the only sensible thing to do next was sail straight towards the people everyone told us to avoid.What could possibly go wrong?

You know those days where you think you’ll just tie the boat up, grab a beer, and head home?Yeah, nah… this wasn’t one of those days.We’d barely made it back to Singapore before one of the most famous yachts in the marina went up in flames right in front of us.Then people started asking strange questions.Too many people already seemed to know about the jade lion we’d just recovered. Some were a little too interested. Others suddenly became very nervous.For the first time, we started wondering if the villains had been standing beside us all along.This is where the adventure stops being a collection of strange sea stories… and turns into one big story.Oh, and you’ll also meet Captain Magic. Depending on who you ask, he’s either the greatest sailor in Southeast Asia… or a drunk pirate with terrible timing.Probably both.

People always tell you the same thing before heading to Tioman.“Watch out for the monkeys.”Turns out... the monkeys weren’t the biggest problem.We set off looking for an old jade lion after receiving some very questionable intelligence from Captain Sinbad. It sounded ridiculous.Then the monkeys stole our beer before we found a yacht that shouldn’t have been there.Then we discovered it was empt and that’s when things stopped feeling like another boating adventure and started feeling like a mystery.Somewhere in the middle of it all we met Captain C, an English sailor aboard the ketch Mintaka, who seemed to know far more than he was willing to say. He gave us some advice, looked at the abandoned yacht, and quietly suggested we leave.We probably should have listened.By the time we got back to Singapore, we’d found the jade lion but the crew of the Bald Eagle were still missing and deep down, I think we all knew this story wasn’t over.Not even close.

You pay a fortune to keep your boat in a nice marina.Security. Nice facilities. Peace and quiet.Nobody ever mentions the crocodiles.We’d barely settled in when someone pointed at our berth and calmly announced there was a crocodile floating around the marina.Naturally, nobody believed them.Until they did.Within minutes, expensive yacht owners were looking a lot less confident, the Harbourmaster suddenly had the worst job in Singapore, and everyone became an expert in crocodile behaviour despite having absolutely no qualifications whatsoever.Including me.I was convinced I had a plan.Finnigan was convinced it was a terrible plan.For once… he was probably right.If you’ve ever wondered how quickly a luxury marina can descend into complete chaos, or why every boating story eventually starts with the words, “You’ll never guess what happened…”, this one’s for you.

Have you ever anchored somewhere that just… didn’t feel right?Not dangerous.Just… like you weren’t alone.After a long day that hadn’t exactly gone to plan, we finally dropped the anchor at Pulau Hantu, hoping for a quiet night, a cold beer, and a chance to forget about everything that had already gone wrong.Instead, we met Captain Johnny.According to Johnny, the ghosts around Pulau Hantu are actually quite reasonable. They don’t mind visitors. They just appreciate a bit of respect.Apparently loud music is frowned upon.Cheap whisky is offensive.And if something knocks on your hull at three in the morning……you’re supposed to knock back.We laughed.For a while.Then strange lights started appearing across the reef, boats began leaving the anchorage in the middle of the night, and we started wondering whether the old bloke on the beautifully kept Grand Banks knew something the rest of us didn’t.Some stories from the sea get bigger every time they’re told.This one got stranger.

You know that feeling when you leave the marina convinced you’ve remembered everything?Yeah…We hadn’t.What was supposed to be a straightforward trip to the Anambas started with one very important thing being left behind. Unfortunately, we only discovered that after we’d already committed to the voyage.From there, things somehow got worse.There were permits we should probably have had, decisions that definitely sounded better at the time, and at one point Finnigan calmly informed me…“There’s a tentacle on the roof.”Oddly enough, that wasn’t the part that worried me the most.Sometimes experience gets you out of trouble.Other times it just gives you the confidence to get into much bigger trouble.This was one of those trips.If you’ve ever come back from sea thinking, “Well… that could’ve gone a lot worse,” you’ll feel right at home with this one.

If you’ve ever taken your boat to Batam, you’ve probably said the same thing we did…“We’ll just pop over for cheap fuel and be back before dinner.”Famous last words.The plan was simple. Fill up the tanks. Have a decent seafood lunch. Maybe a couple of beers. Head home before dark.Instead, we found ourselves wondering why everything was so cheap, why nothing seemed to make sense, and why every local skipper has that look in their eyes when you mention a “quick Batam run.”Then the sun went down.Container ships appeared out of the darkness. Fishing boats seemed to be playing hide-and-seek without navigation lights. The refinery lit up the horizon like something out of an apocalypse.Naturally, I decided it was the perfect time for a nap.Which left Finnigan driving.At night.Near Batam.What happened next started with a voice on the VHF……and ended with us realising that some stories get told in yacht clubs for years.This is one of them.

You’d think coming back to the marina would be the easy part.No waves. No storms. Just tie the boat up, grab a beer, and catch up with everyone at the yacht club.Instead…The marina had been taken over by otters.Not one or two. An entire furry crime syndicate. They were sleeping on boats, stealing fish, terrorising Pontoon C, and generally behaving like they were paying the berthing fees.Naturally, the committee responded the only way a committee knows how—with meetings, maps, signs, PowerPoint presentations, and enough discussion to almost frighten an otter into leaving.Almost.Meanwhile, Finnigan couldn’t even get into the bar because he’d forgotten his shoes, Uncle Steven was rapidly losing faith in humanity, and someone genuinely thought naming the otters would improve the situation.Then the lady in red arrived.What happened next proved that sometimes the quickest solution is also the one nobody else would have dared to try.The otters eventually left……but they weren’t the only unexpected visitors waiting for us back at the marina.

You know those Saturdays where all you want is to anchor off Lazarus Island, have a cold beer, and mind your own business?Yeah… so did we.About forty-seven boats had the same idea. By lunchtime there were hundreds of people partying, someone had brought an inflatable flamingo for reasons nobody could explain, and somehow our boat became the one everyone wanted to climb aboard.Finnigan found himself defending the Noordic 26 armed with nothing more than a boat hook and poor life choices, while I did what any responsible skipper would do……offered running commentary from the helm.Then the lady in red stood up.What happened next is still argued about in marinas across Singapore. It ended with a stolen bottle opener, a very confused flamingo, absolute chaos, and seven words that brought an entire anchorage to complete silence.To this day, nobody can agree on what those seven words actually were.