Endless Ocean: Blue World

is a video game developed by Arika, put out by Nintendo for its Wii console. It was released in February of 2010. Blue World is actually the second incarnation of EO, the first being called Dive, Discover, Dream in the US. You can learn more about Endless Ocean: Blue World at http://www.endlessocean.com/. There’s also a great community of fellow EO obsessives to be found at http://www.gamespot.com/wii/adventure/foreverblue2beautifulocean/index.html?tag=tabs;summary



Oceanfront Bnglw, 1BR/0BA

Nineball Island—somewhere in the Pacific. Man, what a hellhole! 100 feet in diameter, elevation 1 foot (why doesn’t high tide just swallow it all?) Pop. 6 humans, 1 dog, 10 palm trees. Amenities: oceanfront bungalow 1 br/0 ba, outdoor shower, patio, hammock, telescope, shortwave radio and a jukebox that only plays Celtic Woman. Luckily I’ve got my guitar.

Gatama Atoll—a coral reef. Pretty and shallow, like a movie star. Home of my private reef.

Ciceros Strait—a graveyard of ships. Solemn, shark-infested.

Northern Canada—the arctic. Cold. Did I sign up for this?

Weddel Sea—the Antarctic. More cold! This time with icebergs.

Cortica River—the Amazon. Brown, muddy. Ugly fish.

Zahhab Region—the Red Sea. Home to giant squid and other deep sea nightmare fish.


Aquarium—Downtown Tokyo. One of them fancy aquariums with a city-block-sized fishtank and lots of smaller tanks on another floor. No gift shop. Pretty boring, actually, except when I pop in wearing nothing but trunks, slippers and rubber gloves. 



Jean-Eric Louvier

Jean Eric (“Generic”) Louvier—the ol’ skipper. Likes to fold his arms and give well-intentioned but long-winded lectures on pollution and global warning. Though he never leaves the boat, he’s somehow able to get inside my head and interrupt my fish-gazing to point out the obvious. What is that, some kind of Vulcan mind-meld? Frankly, it’s creepy and never welcome.


Oceana Louvier—Generic’s granddaughter, whom I both babysit and take orders from. Sweet kid, has nothing of interest to say about anything.

*Matthias Louvier—dearly departed son of Jean-Eric, father of Oceana. A ‘?‘ hanging over all—last seen in his personal submarine, which crashed in the Zahhab Region Depths while searching for the Chamber of the Gods. Is he dead, or did he suffer a sea-change into something rich and strange? Or is he living it up in Guatamala? We may never know…


Hayako Sakurai—the Sea-life Expert. A real mystery. This woman’s in the prime of her life, speaks a bajillion languages, has five or six PhDs, runs a world-class oceanarium, and yet she has nothing better to do than hang out all day on Nineball Island with us. It’s not like I’m keeping her there—the lady’s all business. And really, who wears a white lab-coat to an island paradise after labor day? When she’s not diving she sits in the shade in front of a sandwich she never touches. Hey, are you gonna eat that?


Gaston Grey (GG)—The Treasure-hunting Expert. Big-talking dark-skinned fellow with weird designs etched into his scalp and a faaa-bulous orange-and-gold wetsuit. When he talks, which is often, he likes to throw his hands around, signifying like it’s 1987 and Run-DMC is on the boombox. Is it me, or are these Japanese game developers guilty of a slight bit of racial profiling here?

Nancy Young—the Trade Lady. Sleeps who-knows-where, comes in on a jet ski whenever I want to buy or sell something. Wears a cowboy hat and says “yee-haw” a lot. Sometimes I let her style my hair, with a pair of magic scissors that can somehow put hair back on my head—trippy! Supposedly she’s also a poet—I pray she never asks me to read anything.  


Pha (short for Alpha)—the short beaked common dolphin. Aww, my first pet dolphin. Named after one of the protagonists in “The Day of the Dolphin.” Remember that one? George C. Scott? Talking dolphins? Trained by the CIA to assassinate President Nixon? “Ballll eeeee plaaaayyy!!!!” “No Pha! The ball is not play! The ball kills, the ball is bad!” Remember? No?


Frodo—the spectacled porpoise. Look, I wanted to call him Harry Potter (cause of the spectacles, get it?), but what a terrible name for a fish! Besides, I was fro-fro-frozen in the Antarctic where I found him, and I had to name him something and it’s too late to change it now, so lay off, alright?!


Lilly—the albino bottlenosed dolphn. Named after Dr. John C. Lilly, the visionary scientist/crackpot who began his very strange career trying to teach dolphins to speak English.

Pinky Tuscadero

Pinky Tuscadero—a narwhal with an unusual red tusk. Named after Arthur “The Fonz” Fonzerelli’s girlfriend from TV’s “Happy Days.”  When she sings, it sounds like she’s sneezing into an empty Coke bottle.


Snorkle—my faithful dog. I found him on an island, but I didn’t name him. Lazy, lazy ol’ dog, except when we go off in the boat; then he likes to stand on the bow and let his tongue flap in the breeze.  Better than my actual dogs.

Me—the hero. Named after myself. I look nothing like me, and not in a good way (although thanks for the nice abs).  I’m some kind of A.B.D. doctoral student in folklore studies, so naturally the only place I can find work is on a desert isle. For the purposes of taking periodic breaks from the game, I’ve given him a family in Florida that he has to occasionally return to and a thesis he obviously can’t defend.

In addition, there’s a large cast of supporting players who turn up at the island to request guided tours, treasure quests, dolphin shows and the like.


As for how I got this far, it had something to do with singing dragons, and lapis lazuli, and some whistles and—really, I never paid too much attention to the dumb story. It’s just an excuse to open up all these places and meet these people. At the end, you barely escape with your life from a treasure trove, the Chamber of the Gods. Now you’ve got a primary task: to make 1 million Pelagos (P), the local currency, by finding and selling treasure, leading guided tours, giving dolphin shows, and whatnot. This will enable you to finance an expedition to reopen the Chamber of the Gods. One million Pelagos is a lot—you can’t make that kind of money overnight. So you’re pretty much stuck with a full-time job and not much in the way of distractions—no TV, no books, no video games to play. You get up in the morning, you take somebody out to find a fish, take pictures, snag treasure, train dolphins, or just paddle around looking for trouble. Then you come home to Nineball, buy stuff, develop pictures, play the guitar, and never take a shower. That’s it really. Trust me, it is awesome.

And that’s the story so far, now on with the blog. To bring Homer into this:

Muse, tell us of these matters. Daughter of Zeus, my starting point is any point you choose.