More indie games

Upwind makes the wind the only engine you get

4 min read

Most vehicles in games have an accelerator. Upwind hands you a land yacht, a sail and a wind with its own plans, so getting anywhere starts with reading a world that has no interest in pushing you there.

Sailing on land, with nothing under the hood

You cross a dried-out, wind-ruled world in a land yacht, and the wind is the only thing that moves you. The verbs are sailing verbs — set your angle, work the sail, choose a heading, and tack when the place you want to reach is the one direction you cannot point straight at. Between crossings you gather resources and craft parts, keeping the yacht alive and tuning it for whatever the next stretch of country does to it.

The title is the design. Upwind is the heading a sail cannot take directly, and a game that names itself after its own hardest case is telling you exactly where it thinks the content is. Every journey is a route problem before it is a driving problem: not what is the shortest line across the map, but what sequence of angles the wind you have right now will actually permit.

There are two control layers, and they are genuinely different games. Assisted sailing takes care of the trim so you can learn the country first; manual controls sit underneath for anyone who wants the yacht to be theirs. The assisted version plays roughly like a driving game. The manual one plays like sailing, which is a skill with a floor you can feel.

The weather is the antagonist. Storms, tornadoes and stranger wind phenomena set off by ancient artifacts rearrange the plan you made ten minutes ago, and a dead calm is as much of a crisis as a gale — sailing is the rare genre where nothing happening is the emergency.

Why taking the engine out is the good idea

How Snake Pass became a platformer without jumping is the closest argument to what this game is doing. Snake Pass wears the costume of a 3D platformer and then deletes the genre’s defining verb, and the deletion is the whole point: climbing has to be earned through coiling and grip instead of a button. Upwind performs the same removal on driving. Take away the accelerator and forward motion stops being something you hold down and becomes something you solve.

What to build first in an open world is the other one that bears directly. Its argument is that the map is the wrong first thing to make — you build a hundred metres of ground that is a pleasure to cross, because everything else in an open world sits downstream of that. In a game where the content is crossing scarred land to read what is left of the people who lived on it, the handling of the yacht is not a feature list item. It is the product, and every ruin is only worth as much as the trip out to it.

What makes Celeste’s assist mode special is the essay for those two control layers. Celeste shows that a demanding game can hand out serious help without shaming the player or blurring what the intended climb was supposed to be. Assisted sailing has the same job and inherits the same risk from both ends: if the assisted layer is where the game is really tuned, the manual controls are decoration, and if the assisted layer is quietly the dull version, the offer was never honest.

The story runs at the speed of the sailing, which is the part I would watch. Relics, scattered logs and memories carried on the wind are how you reassemble the break between people and nature, and a moral choice sits at the end of that reassembly. Pacing a narrative through a vehicle you cannot rush is a hard trick, and it is much harder when the wind decides how long the next leg takes.

What you actually get

Upwind is made and published by Contraviento, single-player with partial controller support, listed under Action, Adventure, Indie and Simulation. It is coming to Windows, with the release date still to be announced — no window, no month, just a store page and a mechanic.

That is a small team building one uncommon vehicle, which is usually the right shape for a game like this. The risk is the one every traversal game carries: if the wind model turns out to be thin, the ruins become scenery you park beside rather than places the journey earned.

If the appeal here is navigation as an actual skill rather than a marker to follow, Open Waters is the sibling worth your time. It takes the map away at sea and leaves you a compass and a sonar to work out where you are. Both games are betting the same thing: that figuring out how to get somewhere is a game in its own right, not a menu you open on the way.