My old man loved to go fishing. I never saw the appeal. Even during the winter months, which in Scotland is a period of early November to late March, often longer, he’d be knee deep in water, for hours, sometimes, for all the trouble, catching absolutely nothing.

When I first saw Dave The Diver advertised on Steam I immediately thought of the old geezer, but let’s be clear I only gave the game a go because of rave reviews it’s received from the Steam community, which has proven trustworthy.

Dave The Diver has many appeals. The 8-bit aesthetic always appeals to my eye, it adopts a quixotic mix of superficially changing the landscape of the shallow depths with each dive, but all the important locations remain in situ. It’s chock full of mini-games, and I’m a sucker for those, with the restaurant sim being the standout. Dave The Diver’s frivolous tone and forgiving difficulty was a needed palate cleanser after a steady diet of Sifu’s martial art freneticism and Elden Ring’s unforgiving fantasy dystopia. But the main pull was a personal curiosity – the consensus on Steam that the fishing in this game was relaxing. This chimed with my mum’s advocacy for dad’s truancy, it was the effect my dad’s love of fishing had on him. It was one place where he was truly at peace. Because they’ve both been dead for a while now, I wondered if Dave the Diver may help me get religion on fishing, or offer some insight that could help me better understand the old man.

If real fishing is a relaxing endeavor, Dave The Diver certainly captures the essence of that, until you come across a horrible bastard Thresher Shark with no ammo remaining and your oxygen reserves perilously depleted. This is a stupid comparison I’ll admit, and probably a red herring (yep, couldn’t resist), but standing knee deep in a river fishing for tiddlers is completely different to diving at depths of 400 metres plus and encountering some truly peculiar and disgusting specimens. There’s a reason daylight never reaches a Frilled Shark or Blobfish – it wouldn’t dare, and to go all Karl Pilkington on it – they surely stay down there because they know how ugly they are.

There is a cartoonish brutality to hunting fish in Dave the Diver that’s at odds with Dave’s agreeableness; remote bombs and nets, poison and flaming bulleted sniper rifles (underwater?) and once fully upgraded your harpoon reels in practically anything that isn’t bigger than the title character. Despite this silliness there’s some truth at how easy it is for us to hunt even the ocean’s biggest creatures if we were inclined. Tiger Sharks may be massive, but they soon become cannon fodder to Dave, the portliest of Apex predators. Strangely the biggest challenge is at the beginning, your kit is crap, and it takes several almost controller breaking thrashings to bag most of the buggers. The struggle reminded me of watching Mum violently yanking the spinal column out of a trout the old man caught, Mortal Kombat finishing style. It occurred to me then that the pair of them were to fishes what Fred and Rosemary West were to vulnerable young women, sans the torture and sexual deviancy.

By day Dave brings in the catch for a floating sushi restaurant ran by a chef called Bancho, who is clearly modelled on Morpheus from the Matrix. If you’re a do gooder that isn’t paralysed by whataboutery – though given the premise, Vegans, Greenpeace and Greta Thunberg may want to pass on this – you’ll relate to Dave. He’s too weak to say no, and this game forces you into assuming his Meta self. Don’t fear, it won’t dissuade you from being an Otis Ferry Alpha sort who gets a semi from hunting foxes or trapping badgers, as you get to kill loads of fish in this. I could prod at the cultural hypocrisy we have for hunting specific groups of animals. Underwater mammals aren’t on the menu. There’s no killing of whales or dolphins by Dave in this game, except Narwals, but that’s okay because they’re kinda peculiar. Maybe it’s as fickle as fish and crustaceans belonging to a suitably distant evolutionary path from mammals, that Sharks are nasty fuckers who have it coming to them or certain mammals being too strange to be anthropomorphised.

Gripes? Boss fights are just a bit too easy, especially with the immediate contrast of Elden Ring’s offerings. The restaurant mini game is almost as additive as the cabaret mini game in Yakuza 0, but it feels abbreviated compared with dives that can last upwards of an hour (if you’re so inclined). Each service is over in a jiffy, that being a minute. Understandably so, if you earn too much money per service that would compromise the game’s longevity. Perhaps they could’ve had you earn less per dish?

Also, the game’s narrative often asserts control and has a nasty habit on encroaching on what you want to do then and there. Planning on exploring some more and bagging yourself some high quality seafood ingredients? Not right now, you have to do some chores for the under water village people instead, or rescue one of the dimwit characters, because being their dogsbody isn’t already enough. This game is not for Gordon Ramsay. Little doubt he’d lose his rag. I can hear him growling “Fuck off yeah, I haven’t got time for this fucking bollocks, I’m trying to run a restaurant”.

Chaotic and intense as Kitchen Nightmares Dave the Diver is not. Relaxing it most certainly is and the hours just fly by playing it. But on a personal level I was left disquieted, as it intensified the feeling that I have missed out on something. All I have left is to advise others not to make the same mistake. If your Dad asks you to go fishing, say yes, don’t be left wondering like me whether fishing with your Dad could’ve been a thing.