The Gathering 2025: The Chaos, The Captain, and the Cats

So… The Gathering kicked off this past Saturday to the sounds of none other than rock maven Steve Forrest, who managed to make even the seagulls stop mid-squawk. Following a rather unusual opening ceremony (and I use that word with love), the man himself took the stage and absolutely charmed the audience—sending the Arc sailing into the stratosphere of rock and roll mayhem.

Steve Forrest live at The Gathering

The ceremony itself? A fever dream of creativity only Second Life could conjure. We had those scoundrel Neko KittyCatts, giant stately mechs moonwalking to Michael Jackson’s Thriller, and—perhaps most memorably—the grand arrival of Captain Basilica, our dignified, octopus-headed commander of the Arc, dripping in swashbuckling charisma.

From my vantage point on the glorious SS Archimedes—a masterpiece brought to life by Jay Pockets and given that perfectly “lived-in” patina by Areanna Chaos from Delicate Touch Design—it was nothing short of breathtaking.

But the true goosebump moment? When the tribe leaders raised their torches, flames flickering in unison as they officially launched The Age of Aquaterra. It was one of those rare, cinematic SL moments that make all the sleepless nights worth it. The event was brought to life with witty, off-the-cuff commentary from Roxy and Cody Chronotis, and elevated to another level entirely by SpaceUnicorn Production’s dazzling live video feed—an intricate, high-wire act of technical wizardry that somehow managed to hold together.

The tribes of Aquaterra

Roxy and Cody commentates

Now, let’s be frank: it wasn’t all smooth sailing. In fact, Murphy (yes, of Murphy’s Law fame) had clearly bought himself a front-row seat. The Dinkies, on touching the dance ball, transformed into stretched mutant cats roughly ten minutes before we went live. The stage required emergency fortification after several performers ook unplanned dives into the ocean below. The multimedia system decided it wanted to improvise its own modern art installation. In other words: glorious chaos.

And yet—through the glitches, the gremlins, and the panic—it all somehow worked. Because the team pulled together under pressure like seasoned sea dogs patching a leaky hull with duct tape and good intentions.

So yes, it was far from perfect. But it was ours. And I wouldn’t trade the laughter, the lessons, or the sheer madness of that day for anything.

Here’s to the crew, the tribes, the performers, and the dreamers—who made the impossible float.

(Now excuse me while I go find where my dignity went overboard somewhere between the Dinkies and the dance ball.)

https://youtu.be/aLghSGgSbHw