Ellie Gibson - Eurogamer's only qualified scuba-diving instructor - tells a good joke about divers. "How do you know when you're sat next to a diving instructor? He'll tell you."
Scuba diving is a glamorous, macho world. It's populated by chiselled men, drunk on adrenaline and testosterone and, well, drink, who dive all day then spend all night prowling beach-front bars like the sharks they claim to have swum with. You can only imagine what videogames, known for their glamorisation of macho things, are going to make of this milieu. It's going to be all harpoon guns, speedboats, topless mermaids, mutant dinosaur sharks who shoot laser beams out of their eyes and bad hip-hop. Right?
Wrong. Endless Ocean is not that kind of videogame. In Endless Ocean, you hang out on a yacht with really nice decking. You collect information about species of fish by petting them. You have a really strained, unrequited romance with a neurotic marine biologist who never takes her lifejacket off. You keep pets. You listen to elevator music that sounds suspiciously like Enya. You do a little light archeology. Occasionally, you check your emails.