From Novice to Ocean King: How I Turned Fishing into a Existential Game Design

I didn’t start as a fisherman. I started as a designer who missed his coffee break.

At first, I thought ocean fishing was just noise and chance—pulling levers like some broken slot machine on the pier. But then I noticed: every cast was an interaction design problem. The sea doesn’t care if you win. It cares if you’re present.

I applied my PhD in interactive media—not to build apps, but to decode wave patterns. Flow theory isn’t abstract here; it’s real when the tide pulls your line at 3:17 AM while your boat sways between neon pink reefs and ghostly tides.

My budget? $50 per session. My playtime? 20 minutes. My win? Not money—it’s the moment when you realize you’ve been part of something bigger than the jackpot.

The ‘Ocean King’ title isn’t earned by luck. It’s earned by choosing to show up—even after three losses.

I now run a community called ‘Coral Rhythm’. We don’t talk about gear ratios—we talk about how silence feels after midnight, when the sea whispers back: ‘Kairo, steady the helm.’

This isn’t fishing. It’s a game designed by someone who knows that existence is played in small boats—with open hands, reckless curiosity, and just enough humility to keep casting.