I blog my way through survival games on Nintendo Switch, and Steam Deck, from snowy wastelands to shark-infested seas. Expect humour, questionable decisions, and the occasional narrow escape — because thriving is more fun than suffering (unless the wolves have other ideas).
What’s something you would attempt if you were guaranteed not to fail.
Launching a full survival gaming channel — blog, videos, maybe even merch that says ‘I fell through the ice and all I got was this T-shirt’. I’d dive head-first into every project without worrying about algorithms, time, or whether the wolves of The Long Dark are judging my aim. Failure’s part of the fun, but I’ll admit — a guaranteed win sounds tempting.
(Until that guarantee shows up, you’ll find me failing gloriously at Survivor Incognito.)
I wake to alarms, a smoking console, and one extremely calm Peeper hovering in the middle of my lifepod like it pays rent. Fire out, situation stable, roommate secured. I catch it. I cook it. Breakfast of champions.
The PDA boots into Emergency Mode with the sort of cheerful corporate tone that suggests HR wrote it. Regardless, it’s my lifeline now, so I listen.
First Steps (and First Swims)
Before diving, I pin the essentials:
O₂ Tank — lungs are optional, but preferred.
Fins — I’d rather swim fast than panic slowly.
A few quick foraging runs later and I’ve got both crafted, plus a Repair Tool and a Scanner. The ocean is being cooperative… for the moment.
Right on cue, the radio chirps in with an update: rescue ETA 9… 9… 9… 9… 9 hours. So, roughly eleven and a half years. Excellent. I’ll, uh, keep busy.
Nightfall, Notes, and New Blueprints
Scanner built, I point it at everything that moves (and several things that don’t). The shallows hum with life — coral pulsing softly beneath me, strange silhouettes drifting just beyond visibility. It’s beautiful in a way that feels like a warning.
Darkness drops quickly, and scanning in pitch black is just guessing with extra beeps, so I pin a Torch for tomorrow.
At first light I spot Seaglide fragments. One scan later and the blueprint unlocks. New goal: build it before the day ends — because slow swimming is a lifestyle choice I refuse to adopt.
Then: a ping from Lifepod 3. Marker acquired. I’ll head there once the Seaglide is humming.
Crash Fish Chaos
While hunting materials, I discover two facts in rapid succession: Crash Fish hate visitors, and they express this by exploding in your face. Two back-to-back detonations later, my health bar looks like a bad stock chart. I limp to the lifepod, patch up, and get back to work. Controlled recklessness: unlocked.
The Hunt for Copper
Finding copper is like looking for hope in a horror movie — technically present, rarely where you expect. I comb the shallows, finally crack the right limestone outcrop, and sprint-swim home to craft Copper Wire.
Moments later, the Seaglide is mine. Sleek, fast, and probably not covered by warranty. I take it for a celebratory lap around the pod and call it a day. Tomorrow: Lifepod 3.
End of Day Reflections
The sun sinks below the horizon, painting the shallows gold and the deeper water black. My vitals are stable, the pod is repaired, and I’ve managed not to die — all major wins in my book. The ocean hums quietly around me, equal parts beautiful and unnerving. Somewhere out there, Lifepod 3 is waiting. Hopefully with snacks.
Watch the Chaos
🎥 Subnautica Survival – Day 1
See the full adventure — from surprise Peeper roommate to Seaglide success — on YouTube:
What was the hardest personal goal you’ve set for yourself?
Sticking to permadeath runs. It sounds small, but in survival games it’s brutal — one mistake and everything’s gone. It takes patience, focus, and a sense of humour to watch hours of progress vanish to a wolf or a bad decision. But that’s what makes it rewarding: every survivor earns their ending, good or bad.
(Plenty more doomed goals and determined runs at Survivor Incognito.)
Playing survival games and then writing about how terribly they go. Some people unwind with sports or crafts — I relax by getting chased through snowstorms, attacked by wildlife, and turning the whole ordeal into a blog post. It’s chaos with a purpose.
(Plenty more productive chaos at Survivor Incognito.)
What would you do if you lost all your possessions?
Probably panic for five minutes, then treat it like a fresh spawn in The Long Dark. Start gathering sticks, look for shelter, and hope I find coffee before frostbite sets in. Honestly, I’d like to think I’d rebuild — slower, scrappier, and with a lot more humour about the chaos.
(Plenty more restarts, respawns, and survival stories at Survivor Incognito.)
What’s a topic or issue about which you’ve changed your mind?
Difficulty settings in survival games. I used to think harder always meant better — that you weren’t really playing unless every wolf wanted you for dinner and the weather was trying to kill you. Then I realised fun matters more. Voyageur, Customloper, or even “easy mode” — if I’m laughing while freezing, it’s the right choice.
(Plenty more survival chaos — on every difficulty — at Survivor Incognito.)
SnowRunner Survival: The Permagear Diaries – Driver Log 12: Scout’s Big Day
Difficulty: Permagear Mode
“Scout finally gets some attention, Red hauls like a champ, and Frank still dreams of raised suspension.” Previous Entry:Day 11
Getting Scout Back on the Road
Today’s mission: finally give Scout some love. He’s been sat in Black River for so long he’s probably forgotten what an engine sounds like. The challenge? Getting both him and Red back to Smithville Dam without using the garage transfer shortcut.
After a bit of head scratching, I come up with a plan: leave Red near the region transition, hop in Scout, drive him over, attach the winch, and haul both back. Amazingly, it works flawlessly. I might have to start giving myself credit for my more unorthodox ideas.
Upgrades Galore
Once back at the garage, Scout gets the works — new engine, differential lock, and a snorkel for good measure. The result? He’s now acting exactly like Red did before his upgrades: bouncing down the road like a caffeinated kangaroo. Progress, I suppose.
Final Watchtower of the Region
I take Scout out to nab the last Watchtower in Smithville Dam. The road is long, occasionally sketchy, but manageable. The turnoff to the tower is the real test — a twisting climb that demands patience and precise wheel placement. After setting waypoints and carefully working my way up, the tower is activated, revealing two upgrade locations.
Scout is closer to one, so we head there first. It’s a raised suspension kit… for something. Sadly, I hit the wrong button and skipped the details. Somewhere out there is a truck that will be very happy. Today, I just don’t know which one.
Red’s Turn
Red heads for the second upgrade and finds a freeway throttle that works for either him or Scout. Decision pending. He’s handling more smoothly post-upgrades — still bouncy, but in a “playful dog” way rather than “loose shopping trolley” way.
Frank’s Disappointment
Thinking the raised suspension might be for Frank, I bring him to the garage with high hopes. Sadly, no. My old workhorse has been carrying this whole operation and still can’t wade into deep water without the risk of a very wet breakdown. Tomorrow, Frank. Tomorrow.
Your life without a computer: what does it look like?
Like playing The Long Dark in real life — cold, confused, and missing half my inventory. No blog, no games, no chaos recorded. I’d probably have to go full wilderness mode and start journaling with sticks in the snow.
(Luckily, the chaos stays digital — and documented — at Survivor Incognito.)
Actual wilderness survival. I spend hours in The Long Dark boiling unsafe water, hunting rabbits, and making fires out of sticks — but in real life, I’d probably struggle to light a campfire without a lighter. Learning the real thing might make my digital disasters even funnier by comparison.
(Plenty more survival skills I still don’t have at Survivor Incognito.)
What details of your life could you pay more attention to?
Probably the small things — like remembering I left coffee on the counter, or that my character in The Long Dark is freezing because I got distracted writing notes. In games and in life, the little details usually decide whether it’s a smooth run or a spectacular disaster.
(Plenty more missed details and memorable disasters at Survivor Incognito.)
Survivor Incognito 