Sisters of the Nile: Sia & Seba Are Egypt's Newest Dahabeyas

CairoScene

23-04-2025

These two graceful Dahabeyas on the Nile offer a slow, soulful way to experience Egypt—complete with pool decks, spa rooms, and stories carried by the wind.
There is a particular kind of rhythm to the Nile, a soft whispering of ancient stories through the timeless ebb of its waters, a deep humming that settles into your chest, as if the river is reminding you—gently but firmly—that it was here long before you, and it will be here long after.
And somewhere between Luxor and Aswan, where time seems to melt into those very same magical waters, two sister Dahabeyas—Sia and Seba—leisurely drift past lush banana groves and towering ancient temples, sailing in the company of the Pharaohs and carving out their own place in a river that has seen civilizations rise and fall.
Owned and run by three generations of the El Wassif family, Sia and Seba—collectively known as Mazaj Dahabeyas—are more than mere sailboats. They are living embodiments of the Nile's past and present, reflections of history, and messengers of love letters to Egypt, hand-delivered on the wind.
Sia, the Soul of the Nile
The first of the two Dahabeyas in the Mazaj family, Sia feels like drifting into the Nile's daydream. From the moment you cross onto its deck—past the glinting brass lanterns and into the soft embrace of polished wood, linen-draped daybeds, and the scent of citrus—you're no longer just a passenger. You're part of the river's lullaby.
The gentle hum of the Nile becomes your soundtrack, setting the pace for slow sips, long glances at the horizon, and conversations that stretch into golden hour.
With nine spacious cabins—including one luxury cabin, six deluxe cabins, and two Royal Suites so expansive they might make you forget you're on a boat at all—Sia was clearly designed for lingering. Each room hums with quiet sophistication—smart panels at your fingertips, Nespresso ready on command, high-thread-count everything—and a welcome box that greets you like an old friend.
Up top, the sun deck beckons with a shimmering pool that reflects the sky with near-arrogant clarity, and the bar lounge, fringed with rattan chairs, offers panoramic views that blur the line between river and horizon.
Somewhere near the stern, the spa room—the kind that smells faintly of eucalyptus and quiet—is a sanctuary within a sanctuary. Here, skilled hands soothe away any remaining tension, as the river gently rocks you back into stillness.
Everything here, from the all-day fresh juices to the mobile app that handles every request with a whisper, is designed to slow time down to your own rhythm.
Seba, the Soft-Spoken Sister
If Sia is the Nile's socialite, then Seba is its quieter twin—the introspective soul wrapped in linen and silence.
With a more intimate layout and just five cabins on board—one Royal Suite, one luxury cabin, and three deluxe cabins—Seba feels less like a boat and more like a whispered secret meant only for you.
Each room is wrapped in sun-washed neutrals and handmade details that speak softly of luxury: high-thread-count bedding, pillowy duvets, and bath products that smell like time slowing down. You won't find extravagance shouting here—just thoughtful touches that make you feel held.
This is a place for barefoot mornings on the deck, eyes still heavy with sleep, as the Nile unfurls beside you in hushed silver light. A place where books are read slowly, meals are lingered over, and hours pass unnoticed between the flapping of canvas sails and the occasional birdcall overhead.
Evenings on Seba are their own kind of spell: golden light stretching across the sundeck, soft music echoing from the bar lounge, and stars that appear as if summoned just for you. And if the outside world calls, high-speed Wi-Fi and smart cabins keep you tethered—just enough. But here, it's the serenity that stays with you.
A Journey Measured in Moments
In the end, a journey aboard a Mazaj Dahabeya isn't measured in temples visited or kilometers sailed. It's felt in the hush between moments, in the way the wind plays the sails like an instrument, in the silence that says more than any guidebook ever could.
You don't disembark so much as wake from a dream—one where time slowed, the world softened, and the river whispered just to you.
And long after you've returned to the tug of calendars and unanswered emails, some part of you will still be sailing—rocking gently to the rhythm of the Nile.
Some places don't ask to be remembered. They simply become a part of you.