🌊 Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 5.5: Racing the Sunbeam

5.5

“Rescue was coming. Naturally, that meant it was time to start a new project instead.”

Platform: Steam Deck
Difficulty: Survival
Recording: Lost due to file corruption — because the ocean clearly wasn’t done messing with me.

Author’s Note: Unfortunately, my recording for this session corrupted before I noticed. So this entry is reconstructed from memory — a cautionary tale for all survivors who trust autosave more than their capture software.

Message from the Heavens

It begins with the crackle of static — another message from the Sunbeam. They’ve located a landing site. They’re on their way. Forty minutes until pickup.

Forty minutes until salvation.

Naturally, I decide to ignore the pending rescue entirely and go chase the final piece of the Mobile Vehicle Bay instead. Priorities.

The Hunt for Titanium and Sanity

I swim toward the Sunbeam’s coordinates, eyes peeled for fragments. Just as I’m starting to lose hope — there it is. The final piece.

I bolt back toward my lifepod like my oxygen tank depends on it (which, to be fair, it always does). The excitement of progress pushes me faster than any propulsion cannon ever could. I check the crafting requirements — Titanium Ingot, Power Cell, a few odds and ends I already have scattered in lockers. Easy enough.

And since I clearly have time before rescue, I think, “Why not go bigger?” Enter: the Seamoth. The personal submersible of my dreams.

Building the Dream

The Mobile Vehicle Bay is first on the list. Titanium gathered, ingot forged, power cell crafted from the remains of old batteries. When it finally deploys and floats proudly on the surface, it feels like progress — real progress.

I climb aboard, ready to build my Seamoth, and immediately realise I’ve made a rookie mistake. No Titanium Ingot. Again. The ocean mocks me with its silence as I swim off once more, scavenging every bit of wreckage I can find.

Eventually, success. The Seamoth blueprint completes, and the little sub rises from the water like a gift from the deep. She’s beautiful — and mine. I climb in, listen to the AI purr, and feel an unfamiliar thing: hope.

There’s still time before the Sunbeam arrives. I point my Seamoth toward the landing site. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll make it in time to see the sky light up with something other than plasma fire.

Next: The Sky Burns

I set course for the island, my Seamoth slicing through the water like it was always meant to be there. The radio says twenty minutes until the Sunbeam arrives. The ocean says otherwise.

Continue the Journey:
Log 5: Waiting for the Sunbeam | Log 6

🌊 Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 5: Scanners, Stalkers, and the Elusive Bay

“Sometimes survival means chasing blueprints you’ll never find and pretending the ocean isn’t full of things that want to hypnotise you.”

Platform: Steam Deck
Objective: Wait for the Sunbeam transmission and maybe, just maybe, build something that floats.

Exploration (a.k.a. Avoiding Impatience)

With nothing to do but wait for the Sunbeam’s next message, I decide to make the most of my surface time. I remember having another lifepod distress signal stored, so I tag it on my HUD and head out exploring. At first, the ocean feels empty — just me, the waves, and a slowly draining battery supply — but that doesn’t last long.

After a bit of aimless swimming, I finally stumble upon the final fragment for the Laser Cutter. I can practically hear the sound of sealed Aurora doors opening already. Victory, thy name is “I can finally cut stuff.”

In the midst of my excitement, I make the questionable decision to scan a Stalker. It could’ve gone wrong in a hurry, but apparently it was too busy minding its own business to care. A rare win for curiosity over self-preservation.

The Hunt for the Mobile Vehicle Bay

With the Laser Cutter blueprints ready, I set my sights on something even more crucial: the Mobile Vehicle Bay. I want my Seamoth — freedom in miniature submarine form. I head toward Lifepod 17 again, the same one that’s been testing my patience since last time.

Luck strikes early — I find two out of three pieces for the Bay in fairly quick succession. Naturally, that’s where the good fortune ends. The third? Nowhere to be seen. I comb the seabed, check every wreck, and even chase shadows thinking they might be fragments. Spoiler: they weren’t.

In true Subnautica fashion, my HUD decides to stop showing the lifepod marker mid-journey. A quick reset fixes it, but it doesn’t help my sense of direction — or my growing frustration. Ten to fifteen minutes later, I’m still empty-handed.

Strange Fish and Stranger Plants

To add to the ambience, I discover a few plants with anger issues and meet a Mesmer — a deceptively pretty fish that freezes you mid-swim while whispering sweet nonsense. The first time it happened, I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, and then suddenly — WHAM. Out of the trance, face-to-face with a glowing fish that definitely wanted me gone.

Thankfully, the Propulsion Cannon was in my hands. A single blast later, and the Mesmer was forcibly introduced to the local wall. Justice served.

Calling It a Night (Reluctantly)

As darkness falls, I decide to call it a day. Nighttime on this planet is truly pitch black, and I’m not wasting my last batteries trying to play deep-sea Marco Polo with blueprints. Still, it wasn’t a wasted trip — I unlocked a few new crafting recipes and gathered plenty of scan data for the databank. Just not the one blueprint I actually wanted.

Tomorrow, the ocean and I will have words. Preferably near the wrecks that have Mobile Vehicle Bay fragments.

Video Log

Continue the Journey

⟵ Log 4: The Cannon and the Leviathan |
Log 5.5: The Sunbeam’s Shadow ⟶

🌊 Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary — Log 4: Extinction Prevention (Mostly)

“Turns out nuclear safety training is optional when you’re the only one left alive.”

Mode: Survival | Platform: Steam Deck

Post-Reaper Priorities

After my last close encounter with the Reaper Leviathan, I decide that maybe, just maybe, going silver-hunting anywhere near them is a bad idea. I still need that silver for my Propulsion Cannon, but I’d rather not earn another traumatic underwater flashback. I remember some sandstone outcrops near Lifepod 17, so I head there instead.

Luck is finally on my side. I find the silver pretty quickly, head back to my lifepod, and get to work. A few crafted materials later, I’m officially armed with a Propulsion Cannon. I briefly consider testing it on the Reaper — just to see what happens — but deep down, I know it would end poorly for me and hilariously for the Reaper.

Back to the Aurora

Feeling brave (or foolish), I head back to the Aurora. Naturally, my Seaglide’s battery dies halfway there, because Subnautica loves timing like that. After swapping it out, I make my way inside and retrace my previous steps. The crates that blocked me before? One satisfying Propulsion Cannon blast later, and I’m through.

I’m not sure what I expected — treasure, danger, maybe another PDA full of corporate nonsense — but what I definitely didn’t expect was a locked door with a keypad. For a moment, I almost give up. Then I remember my PDA might know something I don’t (which is most things), and there it is — a door code: 1454. It takes a few attempts — because typing underwater is hard — but eventually, the door slides open.

The Reactor Room

Behind it lies the reactor room, complete with glowing warnings telling me not to enter without training. Fortunately, no one’s around to stop me — and the ship is literally falling apart — so I take that as an invitation.

Radiation warning blaring, I dive in. The place is crawling with those little aggressive sea pests who’ve apparently decided this nuclear chamber is home sweet home. I’m too focused on repairing breaches to care. Twelve welds later, the Aurora’s no longer in danger of turning the ocean into a radioactive soup. One crisis averted, and I didn’t even vaporise myself. I’ll take that as a win.

Lifepod 4 and the Sunbeam

On my way back to Lifepod 5, I spot something bobbing on the surface. It’s an upside-down lifepod — number 4, to be exact. Curiosity wins, and I investigate. Inside, I find a PDA and a Creature Decoy blueprint. Probably not a coincidence that this pod didn’t make it.

Back at my base of operations, I reward myself with some cooked fish and clean water before checking the latest radio transmission. It’s from the Sunbeam — they’ve heard my signals and are getting closer. They just need to find somewhere to land.

Awaiting Rescue

Not sure what I’ll do while I wait. I’ve got Seamoth blueprints now, but no sign of the Mobile Vehicle Bay fragments I need to actually build one. So for the time being, it’s just me, my Seaglide, and the ever-expanding ocean of things trying to eat me.

I didn’t expect preventing an extinction-level event to be this quick — though I suspect the planet has plenty more chaos in store. For now, I’ll gather resources, explore nearby wrecks, and keep an eye out for those fragments. And maybe go swimming, just… not too deep.

Continue the journey:
Log 3: The Reaper’s Warning |
Log 5: Scanners, Stalkers & The Elusive Bay

Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 3 | The Aurora Problem (and the Leviathan Bigger Problem)

Platform: Steam Deck | Difficulty: Survival

“The Aurora is going to explode…” — my PDA, several minutes before the actual explosion.

Apparently the end of the world comes with buffering. The PDA warned me of the Aurora’s imminent detonation, but the ship took its sweet time about it. Still, that gave me the perfect window to craft my shiny new radiation suit from some creepvine samples. Nothing like the warm embrace of woven seaweed to make you feel safe from lethal fallout.

Once kitted out, I stocked up on the essentials: food, water, fire extinguisher, medkits — the usual “I might die but want to look prepared” loadout. Then, off to the Aurora I went, scanning everything I passed: beacons, Propulsion Cannon fragments, office chairs (because if I’m stranded on an alien ocean planet, I’m at least going to sit comfortably).

The Aurora Expedition

I reached the crash site and was immediately greeted by its new inhabitants — aggressive little crab things who were less than impressed with my knife-waving diplomacy. My PDA informed me I’d need a laser cutter to get deeper inside. Excellent. Another tool I don’t have. Add that to the “future me” problem list right under “stop the Aurora from exploding in 24 hours.”

Current me, however, had a far more pressing issue: I’d lost my flashlight. Somewhere inside the Aurora. One second I’m lighting the way through twisted corridors, the next my light vanishes into the void. After several minutes of frantic backtracking and muttering, I found it lying on the deck. Then, like the professional survivor I am, I immediately dropped it again while trying to equip it. Future me might solve radiation — present me still can’t handle basic inventory management.

The Leviathan Encounter

Deciding I couldn’t progress without a Propulsion Cannon, I returned to the Lifepod to craft one — only to discover I was missing a wiring kit. Which needs silver. Which I didn’t have.
Silver lives in sandstone outcrops, and the area near the Aurora wreck seemed like a logical place to search.

That was a mistake.

Because instead of silver, I found something much bigger. A Leviathan. Don’t ask me which type — I was too busy screaming to file a report. It was fast, loud, and apparently decided I looked like lunch. I bolted. It chased. My health bar became a decorative sliver, and then, for reasons only it knows, it broke off the attack.

I didn’t wait to question my luck. I burned through medkits and bolted home, heart pounding louder than the Aurora’s reactor. The silver can wait. I’m alive, and that’s enough for today — though after my close encounter with the Reaper Leviathan (I finally remembered what it was called), I’m not sure how many more “near misses” my nerves can take.

Log 3 Summary (Steam Deck Edition)

  • Crafted the Radiation Suit before the Aurora explosion
  • Scanned multiple new blueprints, including the Propulsion Cannon
  • Lost my flashlight inside the Aurora (twice)
  • Confirmed: Leviathans exist, and they are very fast
  • Survived a close encounter with one — barely
Continue the journey:
Log 2 |
Log 4 Coming Soon

Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 2: The Depths of Progress

Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 2: The Depths of Progress

Difficulty: Survival (Steam Deck Survival)
Optional Features: Grav Trap Deployed for Science and Snacks

“Silver is rarer than common sense on this planet.”

After yesterday’s fire-fighting and frantic crafting, I started the day with a new radio message: Lifepod 17 had also crashed somewhere nearby — right next to the Seamoth Bay, apparently. But priorities are priorities, and since Lifepod 3 radioed me first, they got first rescue attempt.

Priorities, Podcasts, and PDAs

Lifepod 3 wasn’t exactly a rescue success.
I did, however, find a blueprint for a compass — the kind of thing that makes you wonder why your pod didn’t come with one pre-installed. I added it straight to the “to-craft-once-I-can-see-straight” list, along with a PDA I’ll read later when I’m not holding my breath underwater. No survivors… unless you count me, which I do, enthusiastically.

Back at my pod, I realised something important: I can’t see a damn thing once it gets dark. So I finally crafted a torch — apparently the galaxy’s most underrated invention — along with a survival knife because there’s nothing like a little sharp-edged comfort in an ocean full of unknown lifeforms.

Lifepod 17 and the Great Seamoth Discovery

Next stop: Lifepod 17.
Predictably, it was another empty seat arrangement, but I did strike technological gold — enough Seamoth fragments to unlock the blueprint. I just need a Mobile Vehicle Bay now, which sounds easy enough until you remember I’m surviving on cooked bladderfish and spite.

While exploring the wrecks, I also found the last few materials to upgrade my O₂ tank. More air equals more curiosity, and more curiosity usually equals more trouble, so that’s a win all around.

Incoming Messages and Explosive Warnings

Just as I was feeling productive, I got a new transmission — this time from the Sunbeam. They wanted a response, but my comms system is, and I quote, “irreparably damaged.” Translation: I’m talking to myself for the foreseeable future.

With no one to call and no Netflix subscription in sight, I built a Grav Trap and tossed it outside the Lifepod to watch it work. Instant sushi buffet. Fish helplessly drawn into an invisible vortex of doom. It’s oddly soothing.

Science in Motion

Full gameplay log below — forty minutes of exploration, crafting, and the occasional panic swim. Featuring Grav Trap testing, Lifepod 17 dives, and my ongoing battle with visibility and oxygen management.

Watch on YouTube

I even had enough parts for a Rebreather, further extending my underwater escapades. Everything was going fine… right up until the PDA told me the Aurora will explode in approximately two hours.
Sure. Two hours to stop a planet-sized reactor meltdown with nothing but a knife and optimism. Sounds totally achievable.

Silver, Sunbeam, and Sinking Realisations

I spent the rest of the day chasing one thing: silver. I’d convinced myself it didn’t exist anymore, that I’d mined the planet dry earlier. But after far too many dives and muttered curses, I finally found some glimmering salvation among the sandstone outcrops.

Back at the Lifepod, another message awaited — the Sunbeam again. They’ve spotted the wreckage of the Aurora and are coming to investigate. They’ll be here within the week.

So not all doom and gloom then. Just mild existential dread… and a new compass freshly crafted to help me get lost in the right direction next time.

Continue the Journey:
Log 1 |
Log 3

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