Small rides out the storm

Any time we get a score that seems to break a record, we’re compelled to share it, and that’s what happened recently. We were just doing some Spell the Coffee testing, not really trying for a great score. But shocking scoring happens in this game, and here we are. Check out the damage, with our formed words highlighted in bold below.

Our real purpose here was to check Blu Yonder’s solution in a realistic setting after setting up some trial changes. We simply had to go through the motions of playing out our own solution, irrespective of score, in order to do that. A routine part of development we do all the time. Just a little three-minute tour or so into the Blu (cue thunder, lightning and unattended spinning helm). Before it was over, our olive ellipse that delates the running score would threaten to be aglare with four flaming digits.

Early on, we did lay a keel for derate, berate or rerate running from the top down the middle. We set a pretty standard course, encountering a steady rain and some unusual gelated alga and an ominous stray gled, but what’s a little boat trip without some water and wildlife? Favorable Es, As and Rs began to lash at the portholes, but there was no special hint of what was to come later.

There was a big jump of over 200 points fairly early on, but that’s not all that unusual if you play a lot. Things would get real soon enough. Donning our galeated slicker hoods, we geared up for heavier weather and a rough ride. We were no city slickers. We’d been regaled with a tale of heroic, life-saving courage at sea and related marooned survival years before. And many times since in syndication.

The étalage of formed words continued to flood the port column. We remembered the sage advice of an old salt with a gimpy leg, who barked, “Don’t take off your salet ere you’ve battened down the hatches, arf!” After spending approximately 15 minutes searching for the meaning of salet and galea, we resolved to keep our helmets on as we bailed out the hatches.

If this really were a ship, our ear would be full of the din of the maelstrom, and our vessel in danger of being derated if not sunk. But we would let nothing deter us. Alas, lifeboat decisions made us get rid of the Z and W port and starboard, such were the vires of the storm. We didn’t go overboard, though. The V survived, as did our scrappy mascot lar.

Though we never did reach four digit territory, the last letter did deal a fateful gash to our previous high score. Our word total clocked in at 199. With just enough gas, we got back to port late but alive. We are still recovering. Leave it to the timeless sea, a change in the weather, and a little Spell the Beans to remind us of what can sometimes happen when you’re rolling with the punches and not trying too hard.

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