Call of the Wild
Indonesia’s Raja Ampat is one of the last marine frontiers, with more underwater biodiversity than anywhere else on the planet. And now the magical archipelago can be explored in nautical extravagance.
The first thing that strikes you is the quiet—not silence, but the gentle hum of a living reef: water shifting over coral heads, parrotfish nibbling, the occasional whoosh of a turtle gliding past. It’s a kind of natural symphony, hypnotic and endlessly layered. Below the surface, Raja Ampat dazzles with a choreography of marine life. Wobbegongs lurk like shagpile rugs come to life. Electric-blue giti damselfish pirouette through coral fans. Mandarin fish, vibrant as lacquered lanterns, swirl in flirtatious spirals at dusk. There are pygmy seahorses so small you’d swear they were imagined, and angelfish that move like silk scarves in slow motion. Every dive and snorkel reveals a new marvel.
This isn’t the stuff of fantasy. It’s everyday reality in Raja Ampat, a 40,000 km² Indonesian marine sanctuary at the intersection of the Pacific and Indian oceans. Scientists say this is the most biodiverse oceanic region on Earth, with more than 3,000 species of fish and 500 types of coral—representing 75 percent of the world’s known coral species. The water temperature hovers at a balmy 28 degrees all year. It’s as if nature conspired to create the world’s ultimate reefscape.
The British naturalist Alfred Russel Wallace certainly thought so. In the 1800s, he spent years in this part of Indonesia researching what would become the theory of evolution by natural selection. In his 1869 book The Malay Archipelago, he described Raja Ampat as “one of the most beautiful and wonderful of living things.”
Ship Shape
Today, I’m following in Wallace’s wake on Aqua Blu, a former British naval explorer ship reborn as a luxury expedition yacht. Aqua Expeditions—known for its small-ship journeys through the Amazon, Mekong, Galápagos and Indonesia (the Seychelles and Tanzania are coming soon)—operates this sleek 15-cabin vessel year-round through Raja Ampat, Komodo, Asmat and New Guinea, and the Spice Islands. On my voyage, one of Aqua Blu’s Raja Ampat itineraries, we cover more than 600 nautical miles (around 1,100 km), hopping between karst limestone islands with whimsical names like Yanggefo, Wofoh and Wayag.
Getting here takes effort: a flight from Sydney to Jakarta, a red-eye layover, then another six hours east to the Papuan port town of Sorong. But the remoteness is the point. Raja Ampat’s isolation has preserved it in near-pristine condition. Underwater visibility stretches for tens of metres. There are no crowds, no noise, no high-rises or streetlights, no plastic drifting by. Just water that glows in opaline possibility.
Onboard Aqua Blu, everything is thoughtfully designed to connect you with the landscape. My cabin has picture windows, a deep bathtub, and a palette of sand and stone that never tries to compete with the view. There are teak terraces for yoga at sunrise and an upper deck lounge where we toast the sunset each night.
Unless we’re within reach of a remote beach like the one at Wofoh, where, at dusk, the crew light tiki torches and build a pop-up, sand-floored bar under Balinese umbrellas; director’s chairs face the waves, paddleboards are at the ready, and a cooler of Bintang beers is propped beside canapes and cocktail kits. We swim, we picnic, we bask in the feeling of being utterly, deliciously isolated. By nightfall, we’re back onboard sipping negronis under a sky blazing with stars.
Shoal Stoppers
Each day brings a different island, a different adventure. One morning, we rise before dawn for a jungle trek on Gam Island to witness the rare red bird of paradise during its daily mating ritual, the flock’s fan-like plumage of feathers aflame in the morning light as they leap and whirl through the canopy. These magical creatures are endemic to Indonesia, and only found courting on a handful of islands.
On another day, we snorkel at Yeben Shallows where clouds of butterflyfish shimmer past reefs like confetti. Famously, there’s a manta cleaning station here, with almost guaranteed sightings throughout the year. We drift-dive across Cape Kri, which holds the world record for most marine species recorded in a single dive.
At Melissa’s Garden, a site so beautiful it borders on surreal, twin coral peaks explode in a riot of colour below the surface: purple starfish, orange whip coral, turquoise plate coral, and anemones pulsing with life. It’s a similar story at Figure Eight Rock lagoon, a dreamy interconnected rock-dive site with water so glassy it mirrors the peaks above. The view stretches over a hundred emerald isles, like lily pads in an infinite koi pond. That afternoon, we dive Edi’s Black Forest, where soft coral waves in deep currents like something out of a Miyazaki film. Here, shadows shift constantly—the reef in motion, alive, breathing.
Our dive master Kaz—recruited from Aman Resorts—has logged more than 3,000 dives in these waters. He guides us with the precision of a conductor, adjusting for currents, pointing out rare nudibranchs no bigger than a fingernail. Snorkellers venture out on separate excursions, returning wide-eyed from close encounters with black-tipped reef sharks and sea turtles.
Shore Thing
When not in the water, we’re kayaking into limestone lagoons or paddleboarding between coral bommies. One afternoon, I pull on my shoes for the first time (Aqua Blu is all about barefoot luxury) to hike along fig tree trails that lead to Kali Biru, a hidden aquamarine river that slips through rainforest like an azure ribbon. We reach land via longboats in the rain; this is the tropics, after all. But the sun begins to sparkle when it’s time to float down on our backs, eyes skyward, listening to the jungle inhale and exhale. It’s the kind of experience that humbles and puts life in perspective—in the best possible way.
Later in the voyage, we visit Arborek, a tiny island community known for its vibrant culture and conservation efforts. Children greet us with shy smiles and homemade shell bracelets; women demonstrate traditional weaving techniques under the shade of breadfruit trees. The village jetty doubles as a snorkelling haven, where swirls of jackfish move in dazzling synchrony. It’s a moment that grounds the voyage, a reminder that the region’s richness lies not only beneath the sea but also in the lives shaped by it.
Taste of Paradise
Meals back onboard are a sensory journey of their own. Aqua Blu’s culinary team leans into the region’s spice-trading heritage with dishes like snapper in lemongrass broth, steamed grouper with shaoxing and ginger, and punchy sambals made from scratch. The chef runs occasional classes where we learn to prepare pearl meat and pounded chilli paste laced with lime and garlic. Even breakfast is a joy: local papaya and dragonfruit, strong Balinese coffee, flaky pastries still warm from the oven.
But more than the setting or the food or the perfectly chilled riesling at lunch, it’s the crew that make Aqua Blu exceptional. There’s a near one-to-one guest-to-staff ratio, and everyone—from our British cruise director Glenn, a former Royal Marine, to the Papuan stewards who know these waters intimately—brings warmth and depth to the experience. Conversations veer from marine biology to mythology. One night, a crew member from Sumatra tells us about the ancestral sea spirits his grandmother believes still dwell in these islands. Later, with a glass of arak in hand, I stretch out on a deck chair and watch the Milky Way emerge. The ocean is calm, the stars impossibly close. The wind is warm and heavy with the scent of salt and clove.
I may be heading home, but a part of me remains out there—suspended in warm water, floating above coral gardens, listening to the underwater heartbeat of one of the last great marine wildernesses. It’s a reminder that luxury is not always found in gold taps or tasting menus, although Aqua Blu has those. But luxury also lies in the unrepeatable shimmer of a reef at dawn, in the chance encounter with a creature you’ve never seen before, and in the hush that comes when you finally exhale, realising you’ve been holding your breath in wonder.
This article appears in the Autumn issue 2026 of Robb Report Australia New-Zealand. Click here to subscribe.
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This Luxe New Hotel in Portugal Has 43 Elegant Villas—Each With Their Own Pool
The resort just made its debut in Comporta, and we got an exclusive first look.
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Omega Just Unveiled 9 Watches in Its New Constellation Observatory Collection
The line-up shows up a bevy of metals and colours, too, as well as two new calibres.
Omega’s latest watch is in a universe of its own.
The Swiss watchmaker just unveiled its new Constellation Observatory Collection today, the next step in its Constellation lineage and the first two-hand hour and minute timepieces to ever earn Master Chronometer certification. And if you were paying attention to any of the dazzling watches spotted at the Oscars this year, you would’ve caught a glimpse of the new line already: Sinners star Delroy Lindo rocked one of the models on the Academy Awards red carpet, giving us a pre-release preview of the collection.
Developed at Omega’s new Laboratoire de Précision (its chronometer testing lab open to all brands), the collection houses a set of nine 39.4 mm watches. The watches underwent 25 days of scrutiny there, analysed via a new acoustic testing method that recorded every sound emitted from the timepiece to track irregularities, temperature sensitivities, and more in the name of all things precision. (Details such as water resistance and power reserve are also thoroughly examined.) This meticulous process is all in the name of snagging that Master Chronometer label, meaning that the timepiece is highly accurate and surpasses the threshold for ultra-high performance. The Constellation Observatory Collection has now changed the game, though, thanks to its lack of a seconds hand.
“Until now, precision certification has required a seconds hand,” Raynald Aeschlimann, president and CEO of OMEGA, said in a press statement. “The development of a new acoustic testing methodology has made that requirement obsolete. It is this breakthrough that has enabled us to present the Constellation Observatory, the first two-hand watch to achieve Master Chronometer certification.”
In addition to notching its place in history, the collection also debuted a new pair of movements: the Calibre 8915 and the Calibre 8914, each perched on a skeletonised rotor base. The former’s Grand Luxe iteration will appear on the 950 Platinum-Gold model in the collection, which offers up that base in 18-karat Sedna Gold alongside a Constellation medallion in 18-karat white gold with an Observatory dome done in white opal enamel surrounded by stars. The second Calibre 8915, the Luxe, will find its home on the other precious-metal models in the line, either made with the brand’s 18-karat Sedna, Moonshine, or Canopus gold seen across the case, the hand-guilloché dial, and, of course, the movement itself. (Lindo chose to rock the Moonshine Gold on Moonshine Gold iteration, priced at approximately $86,000, for Sinners‘s big night at the Oscars.) As for the Calibre 8914, it can be found in the collection’s four steel models.
Each model is a callback to myriad design features on past Omega models. That two-hand dial, for one, comes from the 1948 Centenary (the brand’s first chronometer-certified automatic wristwatch), while the pie-pan dial (seen in various blue, green, and golden hues throughout the line) and that Constellation medallion caseback both appear on watches from 1952. The star adorning the space above 6 o’clock also harks back to 1950s timepieces from Omega. And to finish off the look, you can opt for alligator straps in a variety of colours, or perhaps a gold iteration to match the precious-metal models; the brick-like pattern on the 18-karat Moonshine bracelet was also inspired by Omega watches from the ’50s.
We’ll have to keep our eyes peeled for any other Constellation Observatory timepieces (or any other unreleased models from the brand) at the rest of the star-studded events headed our way this year—perhaps the Met Gala?
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In Search of White Gold
Colorado’s barely known San Juan Mountains do a fine line in bespoke skiing experiences, luring alpine-sports cognoscenti and billionaire thrill-seekers alike.
“Though no one currently on staff is at liberty to say, billionaire actor Tom Cruise is a very average heli-snowboarder. But although no one currently on staff is at liberty to say, Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos—the world’s second richest human—makes up for Cruise’s inability with his off-piste prowess. The pair have been clients of Telluride Helitrax, a heli-skiing outfit operating in the backcountry behind Telluride Mountain Resort, in remote south-west Colorado, since 1982. My source, a former guide who prefers to remain anonymous, admits he’s entertained a host of household-name One Percenters over the years.”
“Power billionaires aren’t going to the popular resorts any more,” he reveals over a happy-hour drink at a Telluride bar. “Luxury skiing these days, it’s all about exclusivity. No one with any clout shares snow, and at every resort, no matter how fancy, you have to share the slopes. But nowhere is more exclusive than the backcountry. That’s your billionaire’s playground. And no backcountry is more exclusive than San Juan backcountry.”
Which is precisely why I am here. Australia’s considerable brigade of free-spending, snow-crazed executives may jet off to Vail and Aspen each northern winter for thrills, but it turns out some of the world’s most choicest ski experiences have been right under their noses—only a short helicopter ride, car journey or private jet flight from said resorts.
Packed into the ultra-rugged southern end of the Rocky Mountains, the San Juans are a little chunk of the Swiss Alps in the US—young, ridiculously spectacular formations known for their steep slopes, deep powder snow and Disney-esque triangular peaks, all bathed in 300-plus days of sunshine a year. And the region is augmented by unique, and select, backcountry options that rival anything currently in the upscale ski orbit.
Case in point: North America’s highest skiing setting, Silverton Mountain. Located in the heart of the San Juans, outside the tiny town of Silverton, the 4,111 m peak boasts 736 hectares of chair-accessible terrain set among what is reputedly the deepest, steepest snow in the nation. It also offers a further 10,000 hectares of private terrain, serviced by heli-ski operation Heli Adventures. This is the Shangri-La of skiing: every slope connoisseur has heard of it, though most wonder if it actually exists.
We arrive via the treacherous Million Dollar Highway, where a disturbing lack of guard rails sometimes causes travellers to plummet into the valley floor (the death toll, grimly, averages eight people per year). Silverton Mountain was bought in 2023 by Heli Adventures’ young co-founders Andy Culp and Brock Strasbourger. While private punters can book the hill in its entirety, starting from around $14,000 per day, plus extra for single heli-skiing runs, the destination is also open to the public from Thursdays to Saturdays through winter.
“Silverton is a bastion for the pure ski experience,” Culp says. “All that corporate consolidation that happened when ski resorts all over the world developed condos and real estate and got super-busy… well, it never happened here. You’re able to access Alaska-like terrain from an old rickety chairlift, but you’re an hour’s drive from a pretty major airport [Montrose]. And you can access snow that’s even better than most heli-skiing straight off your lift.”
There’s no radio-frequency lift passes when I arrive. In fact, I don’t get a lift pass at all. A discarded school bus doubles as the “second chairlift”; it picks me up and returns me to a yurt which serves as a restaurant and bar. “There’s a time and a place to hang out at The Little Nell [Aspen’s legendary après-ski bar] and the world doesn’t need more of that,” Culp says. “This is the new luxury. We also run a heli-ski business out of Aspen [Aspen Heli-Skiing] but this is where we come. You can’t put a price tag on what we have here.”
I drive away from the mountain, back along the perilous Million Dollar Highway, park my car and disappear into the San Juan National Forest with guide Kaylee Walden. This white-coated outback between Silverton and Ouray, dubbed “the Switzerland of America”, offers swathes of primo backcountry skiing terrain. The ski touring here is often likened to Europe’s iconic Haute Route—an emblematic trail between Mont Blanc and the Matterhorn.
The operator Mountain Trip offers a Colorado version of that feted circuit, on a multi-day traverse between secluded huts. All in all, there’s nearly 8,000 km² of national forest and 2,500 hectares of wilderness to explore, frequented only by the occasional intrepid enthusiast.
A wood-burning sauna is being prepared as I arrive at Thelma Hut, 4,500 m above sea level. Traditionally, US Forest Service huts were humble affairs, with rudimentary bunks, self-service kitchens, and food supplies brought in by skiers. This evening, however, a chef is preparing local bison across from an open fireplace as the sun sets through a floor-to-ceiling window against a horizon of white mountains. As he works, I walk out into the snow to study the twilight sky; beaming planets shine down on me, necklaces of tiny stars sparkle.
Back down to earth, upon my return to “civilisation”, we take a two-hour car ride to Telluride, probing through the San Juans. The small town is picture-postcard pretty, wedged at the end of a box canyon surrounded by Colorado’s tallest waterfalls, and hosts the highest concentration of 4,000-m-plus peaks in the state. Most of its buildings are on the National Register of Historic Places, including a bank that was robbed in 1889 by the outlaw Butch Cassidy.
While the locale offers everything from luxurious on-mountain dining options to 7-km-long runs, it’s the heli-ski enterprise that’s lured me. Telluride Helitrax holds sole rights to over 500 km² of completely deserted ski terrain, a few minutes’ flying time from town. The company runs a range of Eurocopters which guests can charter into Colorado’s best alpine basins, cirques and couloirs. “The range mightn’t be as expansive as Alaska,” says Telluride Helitrax program director Joseph Shults. “But the views, the terrain, the snow depth and quality is as good.”
I’m staying in a privately owned three-bedroom penthouse apartment, where a helicopter takes off each morning for convenience (when I’m done carving clouds, I move a kilometre up the mountain to the seven-bedroom, three-storey mountain retreat Hood Park Haven, valued at around $42 million). Telluride Helitrax uses an abundance of drop-off locations, all above the tree line, meaning everyone from intermediates to experts can be catered for.
During my three-day odyssey, I don’t cross a single other ski track, but it’s the peace that is most startling. In this pocket of montane paradise, there is, literally, not a single sound—a stark contrast to the whirling fury of the chopper that transports me. My experienced guide Bill Allen won’t reveal who’s come before Robb Report. “You’d know their names,” he says, grinning.
And so the San Juans remain a secret to all but a fortunate few. Of all the luxuries the ultra-wealthy enjoy in the skiing ecosphere, the promise of untouched snow is by far the most enviable. Here in Colorado is where the white gold truly lies.
Photography: Kane Scheidegger (heli-skiing); Patrick Coulie (hut); Courtesy of Colorado Tourism Office (Hood Park Haven).
This article appears in the Autumn issue 2026 of Robb Report Australia New-Zealand. Click here to subscribe.
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Best Combustion Supercar: Ferrari 12Cilindri Spider
A modern classic in the making, combining naturally aspirated power with elegant restraint to deliver performance that feels as refined as it is visceral.
In a year when carmakers of all persuasions sheepishly extended hyperbolic electric targets, it’s fitting that the monastic puritans of Maranello—who, lest we forget, won’t finally yield to the sin of battery power until October with the Elettrica—opted to make combustion their major power play.
As an uncertain future of AI omnipresence barrels towards us, the 12Cilindri—an analogue, open-topped tribute to Ferrari’s late-’60s/early-’70s grand tourer, the Daytona—represents a defiant fade into the past, a pause for breath, a fleeting return to The Good Times when nascent technology provoked excitement rather than existential dread.
Guiding this automotive nostalgia trip is, as the nomenclature suggests, a naturally aspirated 6.5-litre V12 engine, generating an unceasing wave of power as it sears towards the 9,500 rpm redline with relative nonchalance. That’s because the 12Cilindri is not a mouth-foaming attack-dog. It scales performance heights with the refinement of the finest Italian works of art; its “Bumpy Road” mode facilitates comfy al fresco GT cruising, and even the imperious powerplant is mannerly at most speeds.
For all the yesteryear romance, progressive technologies and engineering, such as a world-class 8-speed transmission, advanced electronic aids and independent four-wheel steering, are baked into the deal. The 12Cilindri’s clean, stark design somehow toggles between retro and modern; and while vaguely polarising, one can’t ignore its magnetic road presence.
In terms of aesthetics, Ferrari describes the 12Cilindri as being “ready for space”; in many ways, a fantasy vehicle that transports users to another dimension is probably what the world needs right now.
The Numbers
Engine: 6.5-litre V12
Power: 610kW
Torque: 678 Nm
Transmission: 8-speed dual-clutch auto
0-100 km/h: 2.95 seconds
Top speed: 340 km/h
Price: From $886,800
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High and Low
At Le Bernardin, Aldo Sohm oversees one of the most formidable cellars in fine dining. But on the beach, he’ll happily drink a cheap rosé. The world-class sommelier explains why taste—and humility—matter more than price.
Aldo Sohm is one of the most accomplished sommeliers in the world. The 54-year-old Austrian heads up an oenophile’s empire on New York City’s West 51st Street, where he both serves as wine director at Michelin three-star Le Bernardin and leads his namesake wine bar, just across the road from the fine-dining institution. (He spends his time literally running back and forth between the two.) So it may come as a surprise that this man, who sips prized varietals all day, admits to the joys of a glass of Whispering Angel, a ubiquitous rosé that retails at stateside Target stores for US$22.99 (around $30) a bottle.
The context here is important; the aptly named Sohm is quick to clarify that he’s not about to start serving Whispering Angel as one of the pairings with chef Eric Ripert’s US$530 (around $750) eight-course tasting menu. But during a trip to the Caribbean for the Cayman Cookout food festival, Sohm’s wife requested a glass of rosé on the beach. When he went to fetch it, she specified that she wanted a cheap drop, not the fancy stuff that he likely would have grabbed. “I felt kind of gobsmacked, right?”
Sohm says as we’re sitting in the tasting room at Aldo Sohm Wine Bar. “Now, rather than just criticising, I have to admit: I got out of the water, and I tried Whispering Angel, too. It was delicious.”
Unlikely as it may be, this humility is perhaps the key to Sohm’s success. His lack of self-seriousness makes him an anomaly in the oftentimes highfalutin world of fine wine. Rather than shaming you for your preferences, Sohm will indulge your desires. Maybe, as in the case of his wife, you’re going to be right. More likely than not, you’re going to be wrong. He won’t simply tell you that, though; he’ll use his encyclopedic knowledge of wine to subtly steer you in the right direction, allowing you to come to that conclusion on your own. “You just wake up from your dream—and mistake—and realise that, ‘Oh yeah, he’s right,’” says Ripert, who has worked with Sohm for almost two decades.
Sohm intended to move to New York for only 18 months. Growing up in Innsbruck, in the Austrian Alps, he wanted to be a helicopter pilot. Like many childhood fantasies, that didn’t come to fruition, and he settled on something more practical, becoming a teacher at a hospitality school. Having overcorrected—“That was way too boring for me,” he admits—he switched to the more public-facing side of the industry, getting a job as a restaurant server. It was then, when he was about 21, that Sohm fell in love with wine. (Prior to that, he was a self-proclaimed Bacardi and coke guy.)
After studying wine on his own time, he began his formal sommelier education in 1998. He rose quickly through the ranks and was named the best sommelier in Austria in 2002, a title he defended the following two years and reclaimed in 2006. Amid that stretch, he sojourned to New York in 2004 with the goal of improving his English to compete in international competitions. It paid off: four years later, he won the top prize from the World Sommelier Association. But more than the accolades, Sohm had discovered a career. By then, he had joined Le Bernardin after stints at Wallsé, Café Sabarsky and Blaue Gans—all Austrian restaurants in Manhattan.
“Back then we had a very strong French sommelier community, and they controlled everything,” he says. “And it was an uproar because how come an Austrian sommelier came to one of the most French restaurants?” He proved his bona fides, and in 2013 Ripert and Maguy Le Coze, the co-owners of Le Bernardin, approached him with the idea of partnering with them in a wine bar. It was Ripert who suggested putting the connoisseur’s name on it.
Aldo Sohm Wine Bar debuted the following year, with a team that Sohm handpicked. Sarah Thomas was part of that opening crew, after meeting Sohm during a fateful dinner at Le Bernardin with her cousins. When her relatives divulged to him that she was a sommelier in Pittsburgh, he proceeded to serve a blind tasting to Thomas. “He didn’t say what I got right or wrong. He didn’t care about that,” she tells me. “He just wanted to hear me talk about wine, I guess. So I did.”
When he offered her a job at the end of the meal, she laughed. Sohm didn’t. Thomas promptly packed up and moved to New York. After she spent about nine months at the wine bar, Sohm promoted her to Le Bernardin, where she worked for another five years. When she decided to start her own business—Kalamata’s Kitchen, which aims to teach kids about other cultures through food—Sohm was one of her earliest investors. He may have found full-time teaching to be too banal, but it’s still a huge part of what he does now, identifying the next generation of stars and giving them the guidance to grow into their own—whether that takes them into the upper echelons of fine dining or beyond the white tablecloths altogether.
Overseeing two teams, at two very different spaces, feeds Sohm’s prodigious ambition. He’s on a mission to completely reshape the world of wine, from what’s in your glass to the glass itself to what you enjoy it with—say, Champagne with eggs. Along with his day jobs, he has partnered with the Austrian brand Zalto to create his own wineglasses. “As a sommelier, you criticise only, but you make nothing,” Sohm says. So, he also now wears the winemaker hat, producing a Grüner Veltliner under the Sohm & Kracher label, a relatively accessible quaff that’s a collaboration with his fellow countryman Gerhard Kracher. And in 2019 he added author to his résumé, releasing Wine Simple, a “totally approachable guide”, as the book’s subtitle puts it. He followed that up with Wine Simple: Perfect Pairings, to help you pick the right bottle for the right meal and the right moment.
“In wine pairings, you have three possible combinations,” Sohm says. “There’s the perfect pairing. Then sometimes you have flavours just going along… it’s like humans—they talk, they interact, but they never connect. And then there’s conflict.” It’s that first one he’s after every time.
“Sohm fell in love with wine when he was about 21. Prior to that, he was a self-proclaimed Bacardi and coke guy.”
Outside of the restaurant, the wine bar and the cellar, Sohm is an avid cyclist who owns six bikes, a number he admits is excessive—especially in New York City. Riding is what he credits with keeping him healthy, when so much of his time is spent eating and drinking—and drinking some more.
Still, despite the 18-year career at one of the world’s best restaurants, despite the top honours from his peers, despite the wine and the wineglasses and the wine books, Sohm doesn’t consider himself successful. Every day, he’s trying to figure out how he can self-correct. “I like what I do, so I go back home that night, think of things which I can improve,” he says. “I get annoyed when I make a mistake, but I improve the next day.”
His quest for perfection may never be over, but Sohm does concede that he’s happy—its own type of success. Sometimes he finds that happiness while sipping a glass of 1980 Domaine de la Romanée-Conti La Tâche, a bottle now so rare and coveted that he calls it “unattainable”. And sometimes, if to his chagrin, he finds it while drinking a mass-produced rosé on the beach.
Photography by Tori Latham
This article appears in the Autumn issue 2026 of Robb Report Australia New-Zealand. Click here to subscribe.
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Armani, Suited for the Sea
A fitting tribute to the late fashion designer, the 72m No Rush combines his stylistic sensibilities and love of yachting.
A MAESTRO OF MEN’S fashion, Giorgio Armani showcased a flair for quiet luxury long before the term existed, beginning with his eponymous suit. The deconstructed garment ushered in 1980s power dressing, a relaxed counterpoint to the conventional corporate garb previously in vogue. This simple, stylised expression of refinement also shines through on the Admiral Giorgio Armani 72M build named No Rush, the first of two custom 72 m yachts conceived by the designer himself in partnership with the Italian Sea Group.
“The sea and design are two of my greatest passions,” said Armani when announcing the project in 2023. Sadly, he passed away last year just three weeks before No Rush debuted at September’s Monaco Yacht Show, but he would’ve loved the fierce dockside buzz generated by its distinctive exterior shape. A serial superyacht owner, Armani was of the mind to introduce a fresh take on nautical “aesthetics and functionality” so that, just as in fashion, “they come together in a natural and elegant style”.
The full-displacement ice-class hull —presented in satin gold—is intended for transoceanic cruising, greatly contributing to the yacht’s range of 6,000 nautical miles. Its clean lines are defined by what the builder calls geometric volumes that connect to curved surfaces across the profile, with a signature suspended terrace on the upper deck. At the stern, No Rush’s squared-off swim platform completes Armani’s blocky, minimalist approach.
The designer’s focus on onboard liveability is apparent through both the large, open interior spaces and the choice of materials, such as black marquina marble, golden Calacatta marble, and canaletto walnut. Their strategic use amid the light-coloured walls and full-length windows is soft and restrained, as Robb Report discovered during a recent tour. Then there are the salon’s ivory-onyx floor and decorative-glass curtains that unite the designer’s penchant for residential creativity with Admiral’s in-house craftsmanship. Yet, for better or worse, the proliferation of Armani logos—festooned on door handles, soft furnishings and even the captain’s wheel—conveys a vibe more akin to the lobby of a five-star hotel.
Meanwhile, the six private quarters offer a masterclass in customisation. The fullbeam VIP cabin rivals the main suites of many same-size yachts and is large enough to create two staterooms via a partition door, both with velvet onyx ensuites. The owner’s deck is the designer’s pièce de résistance, featuring a 139 m² suite with a private lounge that turns into a cinema. Sliding-glass doors lead to the 14-seat dining table, bar and glass-bottomed pool, and a sunken seating area on the foredeck includes a bioethanol firepit at the bow. Armani also paid special attention to the well-being of the yacht’s 19-member crew, creating discreet stairways, generous sleeping spaces and their own dedicated deck forward of the wheelhouse for socialising.
According to Giovanni Costantino, founder and CEO of the Italian Sea Group, this vessel “feels like entering a true Armani world”. As well it should; No Rush is the swan song that anchors the late fashion magnate’s legacy in superyacht design, one that feels impervious to time.
Main image, photography Lorenzo Tampucci.
