Tag: Subnautica

Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 12: Growing Up

Submerged – Log 12: Growing Up

Platform: Steam Deck
Mode: Survival
Format: No Commentary

Video: Floating Island farming run, lifepod sweep, wreck exploration, and base expansion (no commentary)

I had a lightbulb moment today. I’m fed up of chasing fish.

Every time my hunger dips, I stop what I’m doing, grab the knife, and head outside like I’ve never planned further than the next five minutes. It works. It keeps me alive. It also feels temporary.

The island has fruit. The fruit grows on trees. Trees can be replanted.
The solution has been sitting there the entire time.

If I’m here for the long haul, I need to act like it.

I headed back to the island with one job: harvest what I need and leave. No sightseeing. No heroic dives. Just infrastructure.

As soon as I arrived, I noticed a distress signal directly below the island. Of course there was. I added it to the list and focused on the plants first. Priorities.

I moved through the vegetation carefully. Some of it looks useful and isn’t. Then I found the Bulbo Trees.

Knife out. Controlled hits. Samples collected.

Once cut, they’re on a timer. That’s all I could think about as I made a quick detour down to the lifepod beneath the island. Inside, I picked up a PDA that helpfully informed me the Aurora meeting point was… the island I was just standing on.

Great. Glad we cleared that up.

I didn’t hang around. Back to base.

Titanium gathered. Indoor growbed fabricated. Crops planted immediately. No hesitation.

I stood there longer than I expected, watching them settle into place. It felt different. Less scrambling. More planning.

If this works, food stops being a daily chore. Water still needs attention, but solving one problem at a time is how this becomes manageable.

With farming underway, I checked my signals properly. Two lifepods stood out. One near the Aurora. Another roughly four hundred metres away and one hundred metres down.

I followed the first coordinate carefully. Adjusted for the compass. Reached it.

It was already looted.

I’ve clearly been there before. I don’t remember recording it. At some point in the past, I must have visited, taken what I could, saved, and moved on. Not ideal. From now on, cleared pods get marked properly.

On the way to the second lifepod, I found a wreck and went inside. I can’t help myself. Inside, I found a Battery Charger fragment and another Bioreactor fragment.

The charger is the real win. I’ve been rationing batteries like they’re rare artefacts. One more fragment and that changes completely.

The second lifepod was intact but empty. I had a small laugh at how it had all ended. The ocean has a sense of humour. I took what I could and left.

Back at base, I decided to expand. A tunnel. Another room. The fabricator and I had a brief disagreement about placement, but eventually it cooperated.

The base feels less like a crash shelter now and more like something intentional. At the same time, hull integrity keeps dropping with every addition. The bigger it gets, the weaker it becomes. Reinforcement is climbing the list quickly.

The crops are growing.

That alone changes the tone of everything.

I still need to head back to the Aurora and see what’s waiting in the Captain’s Quarters. That will be deliberate. Planned.

For now, though, survival feels… easier.

I don’t trust that feeling entirely.

But tonight, I’m not chasing fish.

I’m growing them out of the equation.

Continue the Journey

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Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 11: Copper, Caves, and Structural Regret

Submerged Log 11: Copper, Caves, and Structural Regret

Platform: Steam Deck

Video: Base upgrades, lifepod dive to 250m, cave panic, and Seamoth improvements (no commentary)

I was going to chase the black box. Then I remembered the giant alien laser. Priorities shifted.

The plan had been simple: head back to the Aurora, find the black box data, and pretend I wasn’t about to get shot out of the sky by an alien cannon.

Reality check: I’m not leaving this planet anytime soon.

If I’m here for the long haul, the base needs to stop feeling like a damp hallway with ambition.

Bulkheads, Flooding, and The Game Laughing Directly at Me

I started by looking at a bulkhead, because in my head that means “less flooding” and “more responsible adult survival.”
In practice, the game basically laughed and told me to enjoy living in a fish tank.

So I pivoted to the upgrades that actually move the needle:
more power and medical supplies.

Solar Power and the Medkit Fabricator: A Short Story About Suffering

Goal one: another solar panel.
Goal two: a medkit fabricator, because I’m tired of treating “hope” as a healing item.

Then I checked what I needed and immediately had a new enemy: creepvine samples.
Not because they were hard to get.
Because I already had them.
And then I ate them.

So off I went to replace the snacks I shouldn’t have treated as snacks.

Radio Interruptions: Lifepod 4 Joins the To-Do List

Mid-upgrade, I got a distress signal from Lifepod 4, with the helpful advice to wear a radiation suit.
Which is fair.
But I’ve already handled that situation.

So Lifepod 4 gets added to the list of places I will absolutely go to…
once I’m done putting out the current fires I set myself.

Copper: The Myth, The Legend, The Personal Insult

Copper remains elusive.
I’m finding diamonds more often than copper, which feels like the planet is doing comedy at my expense.

All of this because I need copper wire for a computer chip.
Which means the moment I want to build something “basic,” the universe decides I need to earn it.

At this point I’m seriously considering a scanner room, purely so I can stop living my life like a metal detector with legs.

Medkit Fabricator Online (Finally)

Once the medkit fabricator was up and running, I moved on to a quality-of-life upgrade I should have made ages ago:
a beacon.

I named it “base”, because:

1) it is a base

2) I would like to find it again

3) I don’t need to overthink this

Valentino Goes Deep: The 250m Lifepod Run

With “base” now marked like a sensible person would do, I took Valentino for a drive to a lifepod sitting around 250m down.

Naturally: no survivors.
The ocean doesn’t do happy endings.

But I did come away with something useful: a blueprint for a Repulsion Cannon.
I still need a Modification Station before I can get too excited, but I’ll take a win when it shows up.

The Beautiful Cave That Immediately Became A Problem

Next up: a cave near another lifepod location.
The cave itself is gorgeous.
It’s also the kind of place where you realise, mid-swim, that you have no idea where the exit is.

And that’s when I moved “make a beacon” from “good idea” to “non-negotiable survival requirement.”

I eventually found my way back out, and I didn’t drown in a glowing underwater postcard, so that counts as success.

Valentino’s New Problem: He Can’t Go Anywhere Without Taking Damage

Back at base, I had a new priority: hull reinforcement for Valentino.
He couldn’t so much as breathe underwater without scraping something and taking damage.

So I did what any reasonable person would do:
I went hunting for diamonds.
For armour.
On a submarine scooter.
Completely normal.

Eventually I got lucky and upgraded Valentino with:

  • Hull Reinforcement
  • Storage Module

Now he’s tougher, roomier, and slightly less likely to come home looking like he lost a fight with a rock.

Next Time (If Copper Stops Playing Hard To Get)

  • Hit Lifepod 4 (radiation warning acknowledged, thanks)
  • Seriously consider a Scanner Room to end the copper scavenger hunt
  • Start working toward the Modification Station so that Repulsion Cannon isn’t just a tease
  • Revisit the Aurora plan… after accepting I’m probably getting shot down anyway
Continue the journey:

Log 10 | Log 11 (You are here) | Log 12

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Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 10: Power Problems, Progress, and Valentino

Submerged Log 10: Power Problems, Progress, and Valentino

Platform: Steam Deck

Video: Base building, Moonpool construction, and Seamoth upgrades (no commentary)


The game congratulated me on reaching 100m deep while I was standing in my own base, which is impressive,
considering my floor doesn’t even have a depth rating.

The first thing that happens today is Subnautica having a small moment. I get the “passed 100m” message like
I’ve just descended into the abyss, when I’m very much indoors and pretending my base is a real home and not
a glorified underwater shed. I chalk it up to another glitch. The peeper-in-the-lifepod incident still lives
rent-free in my head.

Glitches aside, I’ve got one job today: make this new base functional. “Presentable” is ambitious. “Not
embarrassing” is the real target. Step one is a fabricator, because I’m done doing the lifepod commute every
time I need to make a wire.

Weather / Loot / Mood

  • Weather: Clear enough to trust solar power. Briefly. Foolishly.
  • Loot: Diamond, cave sulfur, titanium (so much titanium), quartz (eventually).
  • Mood: Productive, then annoyed, then productive again. Standard survival rhythm.

A Base Without a Fabricator Is Just a Bad Camping Trip

Once I’m out gathering materials, the game finally gives me a little kindness: another diamond. That’s the
missing piece that turns “soon” into “today,” and suddenly the Laser Cutter isn’t a distant dream anymore.

I head back to the lifepod, dig out my other diamond and the cave sulfur, and just like that: the Laser Cutter
is mine. The Aurora is officially back on the menu, and the Captain’s Quarters is finally starting to look like
a real plan instead of a brave lie I tell myself.

But not yet. Today’s obsession is still the Moonpool. I can taste it. I can also taste salt water. Both feel
inevitable.

Another Distress Signal, Another “Not Today”

I catch another distress signal, and it’s immediately obvious it’s outside my comfort zone. It’s not a “never,”
though. It’s a “give me five minutes and a better module.”

That’s the thing about Subnautica. The game doesn’t lock doors — it just points at the ocean and says,
“You can go there whenever you’re ready.” And then it laughs.

Moonpool Madness (And the Corridor Betrayal)

With the fabricator up and running, the base finally feels like mine. Not long after that, I scrape together
enough titanium for the second ingot I need, which means there’s nothing left between me and the Moonpool
except… building placement drama.

I try to be sensible. I build a corridor so the Moonpool can connect neatly, like a planned base and not a
panic build. The game disagrees. It refuses to attach, refuses to cooperate, and refuses to respect my desire
for symmetry.

So I remove the corridor, try again, and suddenly it’s happy. Of course it is. The Moonpool finally goes down
and I don’t even hesitate — I dock the Seamoth immediately and give it the charge it deserves.

Power: The Problem I Created on Purpose

The moment I dock, reality hits: the Seamoth is now drinking my base power like it’s a free refill station.
And my base power is currently solar.

Which means when the sun goes down, my base turns into a very modern art installation: “Darkness, But With
Regret.”

I need another solar panel. Simple. Easy. Except for one tiny detail: quartz.

I know where quartz is. I just can’t find the routes to the places I know have it, which is a very
specific kind of frustration. Eventually, I stumble into the right area, collect what I need, and the second
panel goes up. The base breathes again.

Mobile Vehicle Bay: Why Is It Like That?

Next up is the Mobile Vehicle Bay. I get it crafted and deployed, and immediately have to accept a hard truth:
it will never be centred the way my brain wants it to be.

I take the win anyway, because I’m here for upgrades — and the one I’ve been eyeing for a while is finally
within reach: the Seamoth Depth Module MK1.

The Depth Module, and My Sudden Forgetfulness

Another salvage trip follows. I grab the titanium, head back, and in the excitement I immediately forget the
part where titanium becomes an ingot.

So I do an unplanned little jog back to the fabricator like I’m running errands in a shopping centre, except
the shopping centre is the ocean and the parking lot is trying to kill me.

Once the ingot is made, the depth module goes in, and suddenly 300m is on the table. That’s not just a number.
That’s permission to go looking for trouble in places I previously pretended didn’t exist.

Valentino, Paint Jobs, and Immediate Karma

With the Moonpool built and the module installed, I decide it’s time to make the Seamoth feel like it belongs
to me. It needs a name. It needs a fresh look. It needs… not to be treated like a bumper car.

I take it out to repair it, because it has a few dents from my usual “precision docking.” I fix it up, feel
proud, immediately damage it again, repair it again, and dock it back in the Moonpool like nothing happened.

The name, at least, is locked in. I called it earlier in the series and I’m sticking to it:
Valentino.

The colour, though? No idea. I know it’s possible. I just don’t know how to do it yet. Hopefully by next time
I’ll have figured it out, and Valentino can stop looking like a default rental.

Next Steps

  • Head back to the Aurora and finally use that Laser Cutter like it wasn’t made for decoration.
  • Figure out how to change Seamoth colours, because I refuse to be beaten by a paint menu.
  • Start tracking down rocket blueprints, because “escape” is technically the goal. Allegedly.

Continue the journey

Previous: Submerged Log 9 |
Next: Submerged Log 11

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Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 9: Beacons, Blueprints, and a First Proper Home

Submerged Log 9: Beacons, Blueprints, and a First Proper Home

Platform: Steam Deck

Video: Beacon run, Mushroom Forest scavenging, and first base module (no commentary)

When you hit a brick wall in Subnautica, the game doesn’t give you a hint. It gives you more ocean.

I’ve stalled out. Upgrades are half-finished, blueprints are dangling just out of reach,
and my “plan” has become a list of things I’d like to do once I stop being poor in titanium.
So I do the only thing left: explore.

My memory is decent, but this planet is an endless blue maze, and I’m done pretending I’ll remember
where anything is. It’s finally time to start using beacons properly.

Beacon Therapy (Mushroom Forest Edition)

I craft a beacon, head out to the Mushroom Forest, and deploy it the second I arrive.
The logic is simple: if the radio nudged me here once, there’s probably something useful nearby.
I name the beacon, mark the spot, and start searching with actual purpose for once.

The theory pays off fast. I find another piece of the Cyclops puzzle, and — more importantly —
the second Moonpool fragment.
That one moment flips the entire run. Base building isn’t a “someday” thing anymore.
It’s now.

Side Loot: Shale Outcrops and Surprise Diamonds

Since I’m already here (and my sense of direction has clearly been outsourced to a beacon),
I start checking what this biome actually offers.

The big win: diamonds in shale outcrops.
That’s the kind of detail Future Me will be grateful for, assuming Future Me survives
long enough to remember why diamonds matter.

Prep Work: Pin Recipes, Build the Tool, Commit to a Location

I head back to the lifepod and start doing the boring-but-important part:
preparation.
I pin the recipes I know I’ll need, craft the Habitat Builder,
and finally accept that I need a home that isn’t a floating tin can with a radio.

Of course, the radio fires off another distress signal mid-planning.
I add it to the list. I already know how that story ends: no survivors,
just another location stamped onto my growing collection of disappointment.

Base Site Picked (Mostly): “Somewhere Between Here and There”

I settle on a spot roughly halfway between my lifepod and the Mushroom Forest.
In theory, it’s a sensible compromise: close enough to my old “base” for convenience,
close enough to the Mushroom Forest for materials and fragments.

In practice, I’m eyeballing distance in open ocean, which is basically the same
as saying I chose the location by vibes.

I place the first module and immediately run into the first real base problem:
power.
No power means no oxygen inside, which is a fun twist for something that is supposed to be a shelter.

Power Decisions: Solar Wins (For Now)

I weigh up options and land on solar. It’s not glamorous, but it’s doable right now,
and “right now” is the only timeframe this planet respects.

I do some early prep for the Moonpool materials while I’m thinking about the future,
but the titanium math is brutal.
I’m going to need a lot more, which means a dedicated scrap hunt is officially coming.

Hatch Installed, Oxygen Not Included

I craft a hatch so I can actually get inside my new base, but until I get power online,
it’s basically a room-shaped hazard.
No power, no oxygen — and my base is currently doing a great impression of a death trap.

I do have an idea for how to work around that if I need to,
but first I want to solve the problem properly.

Radio Upgrade: No More Lifepod Commuting

One small quality-of-life win: I get a radio set up at the base-in-progress.
That way, I don’t have to keep swimming back to the lifepod every time the game
decides to hand me another “go here” message.

I also keep the Seamoth parked close by.
It’s doing double duty as a safety net and a temporary beacon until I can get a second
beacon made specifically for the base location.

Solar Online: First Breath in the New Base

Once the solar panel finally goes up, everything changes.
I step inside my newly powered base and take the first proper breath of “this might actually work.”

It needs a lot of work. It’s barely more than a shell.
But it’s mine, it’s powered, and it’s a start.
Temporary home or not, it’s the first thing on this planet that feels even slightly under control.

Continue the journey:
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Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 8: Upgrades, Interruptions, and Half a Plan

Submerged Log 8: Upgrades, Interruptions, and Half a Plan

Platform: Steam Deck
Survivor: Will

Video: Lifepod search, blueprint checks, and radio message fallout (no commentary)

At this point, lifepods feel less like rescue and more like themed disappointment.

With another lifepod location handed to me over the radio, I decide that’s the next logical stop.
Based on my current success rate, I’m not expecting survivors — and I’m right.

Before heading out, I check my blueprints. This is a mistake. Or a motivation boost.
The Seamoth list is stacked: fragments, upgrades, and a solar charging module that promises freedom
from constantly babysitting power cells.

I pin what looks useful and head out, already planning upgrades I absolutely do not have yet.

The Lifepod (Again)

No survivors. No surprises. Just the ocean doing what it does best.

What I do find is lithium — which is genuinely useful. Several of my blueprints need it.
The problem is the usual one: I find one node, then spend far too long failing to find another.

Eventually, frustration wins. I abandon the search and head back to base,
completely forgetting that this trip was also meant to scout a future base location.
Seamoth upgrades take priority over long-term planning.

Alterra Checks In

Back at the lifepod, the radio crackles again — and this time it’s not another survivor.

The message sounds official. Alterra knows what happened. They know rescue will take a long time.
But they have an alternative.

The Captain’s Quarters aboard the Aurora is intact. There’s a black box.
I’m given the code to access the quarters and instructions that supposedly help me
“meet them halfway.”

All of this unfolds while someone in the background pesters them about a lunch run.
Apparently, ordering food is a higher priority than stranding protocol.

The Missing Step

On paper, escape now sounds possible. In practice, there are problems.
I’m still infected, and the giant alien laser hasn’t exactly signalled that I’m free to leave.

I turn my attention back to something I can control: the Seamoth solar charger.
I gather the materials. I go to the fabricator.

Nothing.

I check the Mobile Vehicle Bay. Still nothing.
I have what I need, but I’m missing a step somewhere — blueprint, fragment, or prerequisite.
Classic Subnautica.

With upgrades stalled and questions piling up, the next move is obvious:
back to the Aurora, into the Captain’s Quarters, and finally find out
what Alterra thinks “halfway” actually means.

Continue the journey:
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Next Log
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Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 7: Islands Ruins, and the Question

Submerged Log 7: Islands, Ruins, and the Question

Game: Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary
Platform: Steam Deck
Survivor: Riley

Video: Southern exploration and island discovery (no commentary)

This log took longer than it should have. Not because nothing happened, but because I wasn’t ready to write it.

A brief peek behind the curtain: I wasn’t in a great place mentally for a while, and these logs stalled because of it.
Things are steadier now, and I’m ready to keep going.

The last time I stopped, the Sunbeam had been destroyed.
Not delayed. Not diverted. Gone.
Whatever hope I’d attached to rescue went with it.

After the Sunbeam

With no clear direction left, I returned to the lifepod and spent far too long doing nothing useful.
Eventually, the obvious thought landed: if there’s one island, there have to be others.

I chose to head south of the Aurora first.
If that turned up nothing, I’d sweep left or right until I hit land or found the island with the weapon platform.
It wasn’t a good plan, but it was a plan.

Limits of the Seamoth

I set off in the Seamoth, aware of its limits.
I want depth modules, but that means a Moonpool, and that isn’t an option yet.
Soon, hopefully.

I checked scattered wreckage along the way and came up empty.
No upgrades, no breakthroughs, just debris and reminders that others tried and failed here first.

Then I spotted something that wasn’t wreckage.

The Second Island

Another island broke the surface ahead of me.
Solid ground, at last.

The wildlife made it clear I wasn’t welcome.
I launched a couple of them into the sea out of necessity and irritation.
They were persistent. I was done negotiating.

The upside is food.
Real food.
For the first time in a while, I’m not entirely reliant on a fish-only diet.

More importantly, the island holds man-made structures.
Old ones.
Weathered, decaying, and clearly abandoned.

The PDAs fill in the gaps.
Whoever lived here didn’t leave recently, and they probably didn’t leave by choice.

Blueprints and Bad Construction Ahead

As I scanned the ruins, another idea took hold.
I don’t need to live out of the lifepod forever.

A new base is possible.
Not today, but soon.
I’ll need materials, a location, and a rough design.
I will almost certainly ignore that design halfway through.

If you thought my Minecraft bases were questionable, this will not reassure you.

The island does at least reward me with progress:

  • Stasis Rifle blueprint
  • Improved swim fins blueprint

Useful upgrades.
Comforting ones.
Which usually means the game is about to escalate.

A Message, Then a Voice

With nothing else pulling me forward, I head back toward the lifepod.
I’d received a radio message earlier and ignored it long enough.

Another lifepod signal.
Another reason to leave safety behind.

On the way, I notice something in the distance.
A shadow that doesn’t quite exist.
It moves, but there’s nothing there to see.

Whatever it is, it waits until the radio message ends.

Then it asks a single question:

“Who are you?”

Continue the Journey

Previous Log | Next Log

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Survivor’s Log: Submerged Returns

Submerged Returns

A Subnautica Survival Diary

It’s been a while since Submerged last saw an entry.

The last log ended with the Sunbeam’s destruction — the point where Subnautica makes it very clear that rescue isn’t coming, and whatever happens next is down to you.

After that moment, things stalled. I retreated back to the lifepod, kept myself alive, and didn’t really move forward.

Around that time, something happened outside of the game, and I wasn’t in the right headspace to keep recording or writing. There wasn’t a plan anymore, and forcing one wouldn’t have helped.

That pause wasn’t a failure. It was part of the experience.

Now, with some distance from that moment, Submerged is resuming.

The focus going forward isn’t speed or progression. It’s exploration, decision-making, and figuring out how to survive in a world that’s just removed the idea of being saved.

The next entries will pick up naturally from where things left off — widening the search area, testing limits, and seeing what lies beyond the familiar water around the lifepod.

No reset. No fast-forward. Just continuing on.

Follow the Series

If you’re new to the series, Submerged is a survival diary set in Subnautica, played without rushing and documented as it unfolds.

If you’ve been here since the beginning, it’s good to be back in the water.

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Survivor’s Log: Subnautica Site Update

I’ve finally gotten round to a couple of long-overdue Subnautica jobs — the kind that make the site easier to use and stop everything from drifting into chaos.

First, there’s now a proper Subnautica Hub. One place to collect everything Subnautica-related — logs, guides, maps, and future posts — without needing to hunt through tags or old links.

Subnautica Hub:

Subnautica Hub


Second, I’ve built a Subnautica Crafting Reference page. This isn’t a lore dump or a wiki replacement — it’s a practical, at-a-glance list of what you need to craft things, grouped by crafting device and built to be useful while you’re actually playing.

Subnautica Crafting Reference:

Subnautica Crafting Reference Guide


Both pages exist for the same reason: less friction, less tab-hopping, and more time actually surviving underwater.

More Subnautica updates soon — now that the foundations are finally in place.

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Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 6: The Sunbeam Falls

Platform: Steam Deck
Vehicle: Seamoth “Valentino” — maiden voyage
Objective: Reach the Sunbeam landing site
Status: Stranded indefinitely

“Turns out the cavalry isn’t coming — mostly because a giant alien cannon just vaporised them.”

With my Seamoth finally ready — Valentino’s first dive into open water — I headed toward the Sunbeam landing site. For once, I actually felt hopeful. Then the radio crackled again. Another distress call — this time from Lifepod 19. They could wait. If they were still alive, they’d understand. I had a rescue ship to meet.

The Island of False Hope

Reaching the site, I was greeted by something I definitely didn’t expect: a massive Alien structure that screamed “DO NOT ENTER.” A shimmering forcefield blocked the main door, and every instinct told me I was way out of my depth — both literally and metaphorically.

I parked Valentino nearby and started exploring on foot. The island itself felt eerily empty, save for the alien architecture humming with quiet menace. It wasn’t long before I found strange purple artifacts and terminals that told stories of technology way beyond anything I’d ever seen. One room even held a doomsday device — thankfully, deactivated.

The Infection Revealed

Eventually, I found what looked like a control terminal. My PDA hinted it might shut down the “cannon” perched above. I scanned it, ready to save the day — only for the machine to stab me with a robotic needle and announce, in the most clinical way possible: “Infection detected. Cannot deactivate.”

I scanned myself. Sure enough — infected. The planet was under quarantine, and I was part of the problem now. The only way out? Find a cure. Deeper in the ocean. Because of course it couldn’t be simple.

Fireworks at Dusk

With nothing else to do but accept my new membership in the “Forever Stranded” club, I returned to Valentino and made for the landing site once more. Another radio message came through — ignored. My focus was fixed on the sky.

And then, it happened. The Sunbeam dropped out of orbit, descending toward the island. A blinding green light surged from the alien structure. The cannon fired. And just like that, my rescue became a fireball.

I stood there in stunned silence, the sky lit up with debris and despair. The PDA chirped calmly in my ear, reminding me that rescue was “no longer an option.” Thanks, PDA. Really helps.

Guess I’d better make myself comfortable. It’s going to be a long stay on 4546B.

Video Log

Watch the Sunbeam’s final moments here once the video is live.

Continue the Journey

← Log 5.5: The Waiting Game |
Log 7: Coming Soon

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🌊 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

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