Calm. Centred. Zen. (Sure, let’s go with that.)

On the eve of Aquaterra’s Grand Opening, one organiser reflects on the chaos, the crew, and the art of letting go…

Not clutching out ... just thinking about sums.

The clock is ticking toward November 1, 1 p.m. SLT, and somewhere deep in the belly of the SS Archimedes, the ghosts of mid-century mechanics are laughing softly to themselves.

It’s the day before The Gathering: The Age of Aquaterra, and I keep telling myself: I am calm. I am centred. I am Zen.Only… my left eye’s been twitching since Tuesday.

There are, at last count, seventeen metaphorical flaming torches in the air and two very real coffee mugs on my desk. My mesh magician has come down with a case of digital malaise, my script sorcerer has gone to “find himself” somewhere beyond the known grid, and my dog—brave, noble creature—is still valiantly battling his Cone of Shame like a knight in plastic armor.

I am so sorry, my pooch

And yet, despite the chaos, there’s something weirdly beautiful about it all. The textures are aligning (mostly). The prims are snapping (sometimes). The team is humming like a half-functional, possibly-possessed jukebox. Every rusty sign, every flickering light, every particle effect has been tuned, tweaked, and prayed over.

At this point, all that’s left to do is let it be. Let the lag come. Let the scripts run. Let the world unfold the way it wants to. If it all goes sideways, we’ll laugh. If it all works perfectly, we’ll laugh louder.

Because that’s what Aquaterra has always been about—finding beauty in the madness, humor in the decay, and heart in the hustle.

So here’s to the team.The builders, dreamers, tinkerers, sleepless sorcerers, and salt-soaked warriors who made this world real.

You are the GOATs, the OGs, and the reason this cracked old ship still floats.

I say this with a big smile… as I unscrew the cap of my dollar-store wine with trembling hands and whisper, “Let’s sail.” 🍷