3/22 (47th hour)

Ciceros Strait, midnight—I’m searching with GG for the Spartan Treasure. They turn the whirlpools off at night, so we’re free to roam through Ciceros Undines (that’s Undines not undies, okay?) looking for a cave. Well, it’s a long way and a lot of staring at rock walls before we find it near the Wreck of the Blood Rose. We go in and find…nuh-thing…nada…nix. A cutscene tells us we’ll have to go back to Nineball and try again.

So, is FF having us on? Or is there something more sinister at work? Is he getting his revenge on GG for messing up his brother? I’m turning this over in my head when who should pull up on his jet ski but FF himself. Uh-oh, I think, this is going to be awkward. And it is, a little. “Oh dudes, didn’t my brother tell you? You’ve got to look on the night of a full moon. Weird, he told me that, but not you. Oh that’s right—he can’t, because he’s in the hospital! Sorry, brah!” As a final twist of the knife, he tells GG to stop paying his brother’s doctor bills for him. This forces GG to break down and admit that he’s been sending his treasure booty home for his former partner’s recovery. That’s why he’s such an awesome treasure hunter—because he’s a wuss with a guilty conscience, not because he loves money or fancy clothes or anything. Then he walks away, shaken.

Phew! That’s enough drama for today. Fortunately, a look at the night sky tells me the moon is waxing (or waning, I can never remember). We’ll be back soon.

Next, I’m off to northern Canada to search for the two long tusks my tiki demands. Boy, it’s cold up here! The wind is blowing 70 mph and I can barely see past the boat. Maybe I should’ve put a shirt on before I left. Aside from chinook salmon, I’m not seeing too many fish here and—OMG! NARWHALS!! Not just one narwhal, either, but a whole pod, all chasing around and crossing tusks like the three musketeers! Unfortunately, I’m not allowed much time to marvel before a Greenland shark turns up to kill my buzz. He can be zapped of course, but he’s persistent. After awhile I get annoyed and move on. Around the narwhal ice breathing hole I find the first tusk. One more to go. Now, what else lives in the arctic and has tusks? I drop in on the other breathing holes. Polar bear—nope. Ribbon seals—nope. Ah, here it is: walrus! I have to wander around in the blizzard a bit before I find the second tusk, then finish filling out the map and back to the boat. The crew is waiting  for me impatiently, all huddled over in the cold. When I get in, somebody says, “The weather’s not so bad here.” Yeah, right!


Back at Nineball, I lay the tusks at my tiki’s feet. “I am…satisfied…” it grunts. “On sandy beach…soon…my thanks…”

So, how soon is “soon”, exactly?