PC GAMER (US)

“I’m moving at five knots—the same speed as a raft made of corpses”

Getting lost at sea in Orb Creation’s Sailaway: The Sailing Simulator

- MATT ELLIOTT

Ipresumed that reading 20 books in Patrick O’Brian’s AubreyMatu­rin series might give me an innate understand­ing of sailing. I was wrong. Sailaway proves one of two things: 1) things have changed significan­tly in the 217 years I’ve been away, or 2) that reading historical fiction about flaxen-haired naval heroes is a poor foundation for learning. Perhaps both.

My journey starts well enough. I understand that sailing into the wind requires me to tack, and some of the terminolog­y sounds familiar— backstays, jibs, the sea, etc. But as I progress through the tutorial, I get the sense that instead of being a natural Jack Tar in the mould of Jack Aubrey, I’m more like Stephen Maturin, the physician-cum-spy from O’Brian’s books who’s famously terrible at sailing. By the time I get to the tutorial about different lines, I’m lost at sea. They all sound like they’re named after school bullies from Just William. Didn’t Cunningham and Vang lock poor Archie in the pantry? Mayday.

Despite this, I’m enjoying how complicate­d it is. Most ships in games control like bumper cars, sliding in whichever direction you press, but Sailaway is honest. You won’t go anywhere without the right knowledge. I might not know my genoas from my spankers, but with time and patience I could learn something. Sadly, I have neither, so I turn on Sailaway’s buffoon mode, which handles all the difficult stuff while I concentrat­e on steering. Wrapped in my buoyancy aid of ineptitude, I decide to try some challenges. What could go wrong? I can’t capsize. At least, I don’t think I can.

The first challenge is about tacking, which is something I’ve read about and conceptual­ly understand. It’s the process of zigzagging into the wind so you can move forward even when it’s blowing in the wrong direction. I’d explain exactly how that works, but I respect you too much. When it works, I feel magnificen­t; I’m controllin­g nature, harnessing reckless forces like a cowboy breaking a wild stallion. I’m the master of gusts; the baron of breezes. I’m feeling good about myself until I realise my goal isn’t getting any closer. This is because I’m moving at about six knots—roughly the same speed as a raft made of corpses.

I reach the goal eventually, and I’m filled with a sense of false confidence. I’m taking the next step. In the following challenge, I’m controllin­g how taught the sails are. It feels amazing when they’re filled with wind and angled correctly, like I’ve mastered something elemental. This lasts for a minute, before I have to change direction and I spill the wind from my sails like a feckless lubber. Spools begin unspooling. Sheets flap. With lots of guessing, I start moving again, but the message is clear. I’m not ready for the sails. I crawl over the finish line in twice the time it was meant to take me, like a wheezy boy on sports day. A horn sounds, and for the first time I’m relieved that this is a one-person boat rather than a ship of the line full of seaman looking to me for guidance.

I’m controllin­g nature, harnessing forces like a cowboy breaking a stallion

 ??  ?? OR IS IT?
OR IS IT?
 ??  ?? THIS MONTH Failed to learn the ropes in Sailaway. ALSO PLAYED Alien:Isolation
THIS MONTH Failed to learn the ropes in Sailaway. ALSO PLAYED Alien:Isolation
 ??  ?? At this rate we’ll be here all week.
At this rate we’ll be here all week.

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