Here’s something you probably didn’t know about old Dan Thurot: I’m a scuba diver rated for search and recovery. There aren’t many of us here in the desert, which is probably why I receive unexpected calls to dredge the ponds of local golf courses whenever there’s a Silver Alert. Thus far, I have declined these requests. Those waters are, like, four feet deep. That’s a job for snorklers. Or a tall guy with hip waders.

Instead, I mostly use this as qualification to comment on scuba stuff. That cave rescue in Thailand? Legitimate. The roll-and-write shenanigans of Aquamarine? Um. Okay, look, Aquamarine isn’t the most robust scuba simulation. But as another print-and-play title from Postmark Games, it’s a worthy followup to Voyages.

This is exactly what scuba diving is like.

Like Voyages before it, Aquamarine is a dice-heavy game of movement, positioning, and exploration by Matthew Dunstan and Rory Muldoon. Unlike that game, Aquamarine is played with two dice instead of three. What will those loony bastards think of next, a movement game that uses only one die?

(Since I’m late to the party, the answer is “Yes.” But that’ll have to wait till next time.)

As before, the gist of Aquamarine is elegant in its simplicity. You roll the dice, then use one of them to move your diver. Here those movements are represented as enclosed boxes. Enclosing something — some coral, a school of fish, a stinging jelly — means scoring it when the game ends.

Of course, it couldn’t be that breezy. Dunstan and Muldoon are all about encoding necessary and enlivening limitations into their print-and-plays.

In this case, the first of those limitations is that you only have access to one die out of that rolled pair. Bigger rolls mean bigger enclosed areas, but that also means depleting oxygen equal to the difference between the lower and higher die. So while it might be tempting to use that 6 rather than the piddly 2, covering the larger area means hoovering up four units of precious oxygen. Making matters tougher, deeper dives consume more air, adding time pressure right when the sea’s aquatic life is at its most interesting. Similarly, you’re constrained in which shapes you’re allowed to draw. Mostly long rectangles rather than jagged freeform polyominoes, although there are moments of squiggly liberation that emerge whenever doubles are rolled.

Weird aluminum dice not included.

These triplet pressures are the shared system underpinning everything in Aquamarine. Much like the headings in Voyages, everything arises from those constraints. Travel too fast or linger too long at depth, and your waning oxygen will force you to start a new dive. Paint yourself into a corner with your shapes, and you might find your next move taking you in the wrong direction.

From there, the game’s selection of maps tinkers with the formula. As before, the inaugural outing sets the template. Schools of fish are worth increasing amounts of points as more of them are enclosed in a box; certain creatures only emerge during daylight or nighttime hours, requiring you to parcel out your time accordingly; special beacons and flags reward those who travel to the corresponding depths.

But there’s tremendous variety within that blueprint. My personal favorites are found on the second map and fourth map. In the former case, undersea caverns can be readily explored during daytime, but at night gradually deplete a limited stock of flashlights; meanwhile, researching sharks and giant squids ticks you up along a selection of bonus tracks. And in the latter, arctic ice threatens your air supply, but snapping pictures of frolicking penguins and icon-improving shrimp can net scores of points that keep ramping upward.

This time around, there are troughs to accompany the peaks. In particular, two of the maps — a double-sheet deep-sea excursion and a fossil hunt in ancient waters — are too persnickety for my tastes, asking the player to make minute adjustments that don’t always play well with the need to ration air or count spaces.

As before, low-ink options are included.

Some of that has to do with the inherent limitations of the game’s movement system. Where Voyages — and our next installment — are more freewheeling with their range allotments, maneuverability in Aquamarine is downright torpid. Unless you’re starting a fresh dive, each box must attach to the previous one. This makes total sense, but also keeps the game more snugly straitjacketed. If I were a generous man, I’d call it more bite-sized; but because these are aquatic adventures — and because I’m not a generous man — they instead come across as suffocating, at least sometimes.

But while Aquamarine is the flimsiest of Dunstan and Muldoon’s roll-and-move trio, it’s hardly a poor example of the form. If anything, it’s another testament to how much can be accomplished with a sheet of paper, a pen or pencil, some lamination or a plexiglass, and dead simple rules. When the game slips into its groove, it’s immensely satisfying.

Especially in multiplayer mode, it should be said. That’s another shortcoming imported from Voyages. Here, the solitaire rules are disappointing, asking you to reach certain depths. Child’s play. The real challenge lies in sitting across from one to ninety-nine partners and seeing who can wring the most out of those shared inputs. In that mode, there’s nothing quite like glancing smugly (or despairingly) at a fellow player’s sheet to see where your routes departed. Who veered parallel to the ocean floor to preserve oxygen, who ventured much on the outcome of future rolls, who spent their dive observing shockingly large schools of fish. Or, in my case, who got stung by a bunch of jellyfish because they thought they were pushing themselves to more rewarding depths, only to tap zero on their dive meter. I’ve never gotten the bends in real life, but I’m pretty sure my diver in Aquamarine has made some testy ascents.

I’m making new friends down there.

In short, Aquamarine is a mixed experience compared to its peers, but to evaluate it solely as a comparison misses out on what makes it such a rollicking time. I prefer Voyages; I prefer Waypoints. But given the option between Aquamarine and nothing, this is still exactly what I want from a print-and-play game.

Access to the files to print Aquamarine was provided by the publisher/designer.

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