FEBRUARY 2019 PCWorld 75more forgiving. At one point we replenished
our stores on an island so rich in resources
that it might as well have been the Garden of
Eden compared to our unforgiving sand pile.
We sneered at the people in chat who
complained that there were no open pools of
water on the island; at any spot, we could
drop and scoop water from the ground. They
had no idea how good they had it. I found the
whole experience a lightweight lesson in the
ways that circumstance and privilege can
shape one’s experience and perception, to
the point that I realized I might have loved
Atlas more if we’d only started out on an
island like this.
We pushed into the deep ocean, past the
power stone island and into seas where no
land could be seen. We passed hours like
this; the journey progressing as slowly as the
plot of Moby Dick. We yearned for action.
Sometimes the wind would change direction
and we’d rush to adjust the sails with the
eagerness of a country fighting an invading
army. Sometimes we’d cook food, as much to
fill our stomachs as to have something to do
besides checking Twitter. All of which is to say
that few games do such a good job of
communicating the tedium of long voyages at
sea, especially in the “golden” age where
folks had to stand in cramped floating
tinderboxes for weeks on end.
At least back then there was the thrill of
discovery. At least in competing games like
Sea of Thieves (go.pcworld.com/thie) you’ll
find more islands to break the tedium. But the
stretches of nothingness in Atlas drag on for
so long that they prompt thoughts I almost
never had while playing another game. Am I
wasting my time—my life—by sitting here for
hours on end on an empty digital sea, I’d
wonder as the water passed beneath? Could I
have learned a new song on my mandolin in
the time it takes to
see land rise on the
B6 server? Hell,
should I just be
getting some sleep?
Finally I spotted
the shimmering wall
that marks the entry
point to another
server and another
grid of the map. It
was the last one
It’s the Isle of the Lotos-Eaters, y’all. before the island Joe