I met a number of wonderful characters during my time playing The Wind Waker. Tetra with her sass that tried to cover up all her sweet, the little plush of adorable that was Link’s sister, the wrinkled plush of adorable that was Link’s grandmother, and the ever-noble Quill were a number of characters that made it to the top of my shortlist of favorites. But there was one character who, while I did not think much of him at the time, I can’t help but find him amusing now. I’m speaking of the often gruff, sometimes informative, and always helpful Fishman.
My first time meeting the Fishman is something I can’t forget, but mostly because I can’t forget the sensation of my brain trying to figure out what I was seeing. I was, as my own boat demanded of me, trying to set sail from the once-again-peaceful Dragon Roost Island. The wind was favorable, because I had made it so, and it was time to let this wild adventure take me in a new direction. That was the plan until I was stopped by a forceful voice.
Link’s surprised and stumped expressions allowed him to serve as an apt avatar in the following moments. Out of the water jumped the Fishman, a small, bluish-green fish with a body that was 75 percent head. The fish popped his head-body out of the water and proceeded to offer his “help” by means of a few, quick jabs at the quality of my map. Link, still playing my understudy, took offense to the mouthy mackerel’s remarks.
The fish tried to reverse the course of his coarse words a bit, though he held to his convictions, those being convictions of “the truth hurts.” He didn’t mean anything by it and only wanted to explain that my map wasn’t going to do me much good if it was blank. I didn’t disagree, but that was something I would have never admitted (and not just because I’d be admitting it to a talking fish on my TV screen). My agreement would not come before his apology. Maybe this shared stubbornness was why I’ve grown to like him as I have grown older.
We got past that awkward introduction, but mostly because the Fishman kept talking. He offered to fill in part of the map with an outline of Dragon Roost Island. I accepted, the fish jumped, time apparently stopped or something, and the map was filled in. He then followed that up with an interesting clue about a secret on the island — a clue I wasn’t going to be able to do anything with for some time. It’s as if he was so intent on being useful that he insisted on telling me information that was almost useless.
What was truly unsettling, after I finally accepted that I was talking to who I was talking to, was his mention of there being more fish like him, and that all I had to do to meet them was throw them some bait. It’s another example of looking back at things differently, as I don’t see the Fishmen as anything but helpful now. But, in the moment, I was not eager to deal with more grumpy fish sporting permanent frowns. Doing so made sense, I realized that. They were going to help me fill my map throughout my adventure. I just didn’t want to listen to remark after remark while trying to save the world. Also, bait wasn’t cheap.
He seemed happy with his work and had that kind of subdued sense of satisfaction that grouchy people try not to feel when they help someone. Though, his deed wasn’t entirely altruistic, as he then turned to the King of Red Lions and proceeded to spoil the moment by revealing the full truth. “I’ve repaid my debt!” he said before sinking back into depths. At least his heart was in the right place. It may have been forced in there by someone else, but it still made it. He was the antisocial young kid, and the King of Red Lions was the outgoing older sibling dragging him to a party. But at the end of that strange encounter of the scaly kind, I had an outline of an island I had already visited and some information I knew I was going to forget by the time I would actually be able to do anything with it.
I can’t say I remember fully, but as I finally began to set sail for the southern seas, I assume my first thought must have been something along the lines of, “Well, that happened.” At least I could check “Meet a chatty fish” off the list I never made about all the things I never expected to see.
