For a few reasons (the weather, the upcoming holidays, the general state of the world) I’m very much in Cozy Mode lately. It extends to my wardrobe (comfy stuff only, please), my movie tastes, and certainly to video games. Fortuitously, a new entry into the world of cozy games was quietly unleashed into the world in October, and it’s become something of an obsession for me and, judging by an ever-increasing number of players, a lot of people. The game’s Webfishing by Lamedeveloper, and it’s calm, relaxing social vibes harken back to a period of gaming that I thought was long past.

Left behind in the early aughts was the phenomenon of ‘chat games’. These were gathering places where friends and strangers alike could meet up and engage in a light, non-competitive game – more of an activity really – while socializing with others.  Games like Habbo Hotel, Second Life, and Sony’s ill-fated attempt to replicate the phenomenon on the PS3, Playstation Home put the gaming part of gaming on the back burner, or at least that one burner at the side of your stove that you seldom use and always forget about. I’ve never played Nintendo’s Club Penguin but it seems to be the most popular and closest comparison point to Webfishing. Basically, these were online open worlds where you could dress and customize your character in any way you want (already a selling point for me) and walk around just interacting with others. There isn’t much ‘game’ to it, but like my favourite titles, it gives back proportionally what you put in and the experience is what you make of it.

Because the earliest chat games were released in the early days of broadband internet and before sophisticated video and voice chat like we have now with Twitch, Discord, and any number of other platforms, the chat was usually limited to a text format and for a number of reasons, we liked it that way. It’s worth keeping in mind that the chat game heyday was largely before the real explosion of social media and certainly before sophisticated online gaming, so meeting people online in real time was somewhat more limited and novel. Voice chat in Webfishing would probably make things logistically easier to juggle between typing responses and wrangling your fishing rod, but I love the semi-permanence of the written word in this form, and the Sims-esque gibberish spoken language has it’s charms.

Webfishing employs most, if not all, of the same elements of a traditional chat game while augmenting them with just enough ‘game’ to keep things moving along. The interface is charmingly basic and uses simple keyboard and mouse commands to get you to your friends and to your favourite fishing hole. Unlike most online games, it never feels like you’re competing with anyone else – in fact, there’s an instant camaraderie among the people in your room as you cheer each other on, or even trade fish. Everyone I’ve encountered seems eager to bring newbies up to their level and give them whatever help they can. You’ll customize your loadout with upgradeable bait, hooks, and other gear. You can also customize yourself with a wide array of clothing options, and you can purchase upgrades to your personal server as well. All of this is funded by selling the fish you catch.

Now, the fishing part of Webfishing is fine. I can and have had enjoyable sessions alone*. But, in a way that I – not very much of an online gamer and no fan of Fortnite – rarely have with other games, I don’t feel like the experience is complete without others in the (virtual) room. As I imagine is the case for people who enjoy fishing in real life, it’s the ancillary vibes that make the experience, as much or more than the fish and the reels and whatever else fishing is about.  The actual fishing mechanic is very simple and centred around button mashing, and you very likely won’t ever lose a bite after your third or fourth session and certainly not once you start upgrading your gear. If you’ve fished in Animal Crossing you’ll be fine right away, but even if you haven’t, you will pick it up quickly regardless of your skill level. The challenge is not the point. The point is to facilitate an environment for people to chat and hang out, and have something to do in the lulls in conversation. A struggle with a fish, even a bigger or rarer one, will rarely last more than a few seconds and never (at least in the many, many encounters I’ve had) approach a minute. This sets the game apart from the bullet-a-minute Fortnites, Calls of Duty, and similar competitive games but also the less frenetic Animal Crossings and Stardew Valleys which demand a whole lot of thought and planning about your next build or activity. Not so here, as you can practically play Webfishing in your sleep.

You’ll start out with a pretty simple choice for your avatar: cat or dog. No genders here if you don’t want ‘em, and I love that, and you can change anything up whenever you like. There’s a decent amount of character customization available to you from the beginning, but lots of clothing and other decorative options like facial features and custom title options become available as you amass and sell your collection of fish and by catching treasure chests that contain special clothing items like the ‘Size Matters’** hat I’m currently sporting. You can purchase pieces of chalk in a variety of colours, which you can use to customize and decorate your space, and eventually purchase guitars to play at those fireside beach parties you will definitely be invited to. From there I’d encourage you to take a walk around the island and get the lay of the land. Drop a line in a pond or two, but definitely talk to anyone you encounter. At least as of this writing, there’s no griefers or trolls around (or if they are I haven’t encountered them in many hours of playtime, which is nigh unheard of with online gaming or online life in general) and people are uniformly friendly and welcoming. 

In my first experience hosting a server (which is so simple that it happened to be my second outing with the game entirely), folks would pop in and out, freely giving out greetings and tips on the best places to cast one’s line and even gifting valuable catches for me to sell and help get me started. It’s funny how, when stuff like that happens, it makes me want to do the same for others and I have! I usually try to keep a couple of high-value fish on hand as a welcome gift to newcomers, as you do. And Webfishing seems to be designed around fostering this attitude and community at every turn. At no point do I feel like cool items – new lures, clothing options, or fish types – are gatekept behind a paywall or a grinding system that demands you spend hours in the game. Instead, I spend hours with Webfishing (often while doing something else, like watching a movie on another monitor or writing this very article) because I want to, and because it’s a relaxing distraction instead of something that feels like work or an ever-escalating challenge. And in very little time, you’re equipped with pretty good lures and hooks to keep you in salmon and rainbow trout. It’s a nice balance that gives you just enough of a hit of success and progress, and the gradual ramping up from tiny fish to whales keeps you on a steady drip of satisfaction with the occasional sense of surprise. 

The island itself is both big enough to give you room to explore but not so sprawling to get lost in. And if you do, somehow, you can always teleport back to the Hub without consequence. As you’d expect, the island is surrounded by beaches which give you access to the ocean and that sweet sweet*** saltwater. There’s a pier you can fish off of as well, which I’ve found is a natural gathering place for chill hangs. Elsewhere, there are freshwater lakes and streams, a couple of which have bridges over them on which to meet up with chums while you fish for, sometimes, chum. Yes, by default and, I’m told, in real life there are different species of fish which you can only catch in either salt or freshwater. But there are also lures which upend the natural order of things if hauling 45 seconds between a lake and the beach is too big an ask that day (or if you’re particularly married to a location, which I completely understand). 

For a game whose name sounds like a nefarious online scam, it is the exact opposite. Nowhere is there a store or a weird gambling game that requires you to pump real money into Webfishing. You’ll have to sink or swim on your own merits and fishing abilities, or perhaps rely on the kindness of strangers. While casting my line in waters both fresh and salt, I’ve had conversations about a wide range of topics from the effects of artificial intelligence to the merits of the respective strains of weed we were all consuming. I’ve found a community that I find myself going back to over and over (shout out to the folks at the ‘Lake Ontario’ server!) and have had a blast hosting fishing parties on my own server. I’ve been on a bit of a cozy kick lately, but with all due respect to the ‘putting stuff away’ subset of these games, you’re far more likely to find me down at the old Webfishing hole these days. Baiting my hook, casting my line, and kicking it with complete strangers.

Webfishing is currently available for a very reasonable price on Steam.

*it’s surprisingly difficult to arrange a solo session of Webfishing without making a concerted effort. Because so much of it drives you towards socializing and chatting, starting a new server means you’ll have folks flooding in pretty quickly.

**the size of fish, obviously, as bigger fish means bigger value. What did you think it meant?

***not actually sweet

Sachin Hingoo is currently at Tenderfoot status around the fishing hole, and if you happen to encounter ‘Skeletron’ in your Webfishing travels, stop and say hello!