It was more like a tug of war between men and the sea. Then The Real Work Beganįor four or five nonstop grueling hours, we would haul in, hand over hand, the mile’s worth of netting we had set the night before. Not being able to see very clearly at night the sharks, while feeding, would swim into the nets, getting their heads and gills ensnared in the webbing. At first light we’d be on deck scanning the ocean for the little white buoys that indicated the location of our nets. As would be the case in all our fishing outings, at dusk we would set our eight nets in a straight line, one after the other for a mile. The bottom line of the net was weighted so as to lie on the ocean floor while the top (or float line) would stretch the net 8 feet high and perpendicular to the bottom. No hot water… no shower facilities…no toilet. It was impossible to keep our clothes dry, and our styrofoam mattresses always felt like wet sponges. After being at sea from 4 to 6 days I reeked and felt like a grimy, salt-encrusted fish market dumpster.īut this was my first trip out. The Judith Ann had two holds midship for storing fish and ice, as well as a mainmast and sail for steadying purposes, as well as to assist us in our drift as we set our nets. She was a bit past her prime and living conditions aboard were Spartan, to say the least.īig John commandeered the bunk in the aft wheelhouse while Ken and I shared cramped quarters in the forecastle, which, because it housed a hot plate, was also considered our galley-and home to an untold number of cockroaches. We were in the Indian Ocean just off the west coast of Australia fishing for shark, which we would later sell to small fish markets in Perth, which they in turn sold to their customers as hake. We were a crew of three: Big John, the burly 34-year-old Aussie owner and skipper of the 42-ft diesel-powered Judith Ann Ken, a seasoned deckhand from New Zealand and me, a 24-year-old kid from the suburbs of New York City, in one of my first jobs on what would turn out to be a two-and-a-half-year solo odyssey as I worked my way around Australia, New Zealand and several South Pacific Islands. We could see the storm approaching from the west as we frantically struggled to haul in the mile’s worth of fishing nets we had set just hours before. Those crazy adventures now give me something to chaw on when I get bored. Now, as a septuagenarian, I’m glad I did. I was simply hungry for a bit of adventure and authenticity. I wanted to see more of the world, widen my vision, experience how other people live and do things suburban America couldn’t possibly offer. But in my youth, I didn’t think I was stupid or crazy. Gamer's Voice Single Player Award Nominee (SXSW 2016)īurly Men at Sea is the second game from married duo Brain&Brain, developed during their own adventures as nomads and erstwhile farmhands.They say young men often do stupid and crazy things.
Best Story Game of 2016 (Rock, Paper, Shotgun).Excellence in Narrative Honorable Mention (IGF 2017)."The closest thing I've played to an interactive fairy-tale. "Artful interplay of visual minimalism, waggish writing and hilarious but also haunting sound effects generated by gorgeous a cappella voices. "It's a tiny-but-then-not-tiny, lovely thing with so much character and a wonderful sense of adventure. Playful Aesthetic: Colorful art style with handcrafted animation, set to a whimsical original soundtrack inspired by folk music of the far north.Innovative Controls: Shape the narrative through a unique, draggable viewport and your interactions within it.Branching Story: Play through multiple choice-driven adventures, each designed to be completed in a single sitting.You play as storyteller and wayfinder, shaping a custom tale that begins again where it ends. With gameplay halfway between a visual novel and a point-and-click adventure, the branching story carries its ungainly heroes into waters where lurk creatures from Scandinavian folklore and other misadventures. A branching folktale misadventure about a trio of large, bearded fishermen.