Lost in Blue - Final Play Rating

Now, where was I? Ah yes, I’ve been shipwrecked on a desert island with nothing but a rucksack and a very timid, short-sighted girl for company. How long have I been like this? Gee, it must have been approaching seventy days now, with no reason to hope for rescue. Still, my time hasn’t been fruitless. In the past months I’ve become adept at fishing with line or spear, I’ve grown into a capable hunter and trapper and I’ve become the best the island has to offer in terms of construction services. I’ve spruced up my nice little cave with a few luxuries, I’ve learnt how to make fire from wet twigs and I can tell poisonous mushrooms from their tastier counterparts. I’ve even explored the mysterious ruins on the island, going so far as to master the extremely tiring and annoying mazes and puzzles within.

I’ve become a bit of a Renaissance-Crusoe, if I don’t say so myself. Which I do.

And yet in that time it seems like I have learnt nothing. Despite learning the importance of patience whilst fishing in the river or hiding in the grasslands, I still rush forward blindly at the first chance of escape and end up stranded at sea in even more dire straits. It is my own fault for charging on without any preparations, and as I sit here with Skye, slowly starving to death on the open ocean, I realise that I was a fool. There must have been a dozen ways off of that island and yet I still chose the most stupid one because it cropped up first. When it gets right down to it though, why did I even want to leave? I had everything a man could want; fresh air, sandy climes and good company. The fact that the girl I was stranded with has the abilities of a gourmet chef only sweetens the deal. So, why did I leave when, if I had stayed long enough, I’m sure help would have come?

Well, the answer is simple. Despite the sunny location and the good food, I was getting bored. Just because I was Lost In Blue, so to speak, doesn’t mean that its fun forever. Most of the adventure stemmed from the new discoveries I was making. I remember the strange thrill the first time I speared a salmon. I recall the joy of letting fly with a barrage of arrows. But I can also recall the boredom as I was forced into a strict routine of gathering firewood and spices everyday or risking death by morning. After a while not even the joy of making new furniture could distract me for long. I explored the island and discovered its secrets, but after that I was left with nought to do but twiddle my thumbs or escape.

Obviously I chose to escape, quickly and foolishly, and as I lay here dying on the open sea I start to think about my adventures while I was Lost in Blue. Was the experience worth the cost? Would I go back there if I could or am I glad its over? Well, both yes and no. The experience was good while it lasted, balancing equal parts exploration and excitement, but there were less and less new things to do and it ultimately crippled the experience. Would I go back there for longer? Maybe, someday. It was fun, but even as I escape that places fond memories I think about the frustration and the annoyances. It may be that the fates decide that I end back there one day, perhaps under a different circumstance (or in the sequel), but for now I am content to let my story end grimly under the baking sun.

Being Lost in Blue was fun for a while, but now the adventure is over I have no urge to go back and I think that the whole thing cost me too much. For now its better to be found than lost.