Saltfjord: i spent my evenings counting norwegian fish (and i loved it)

When a game turns you into an accountant of the far North without you even realizing it

Let me tell you the story of my past few weeks. Every evening, after dinner, instead of mindlessly scrolling through Netflix like a zombie, I found myself calculating the number of planks needed to build my Norwegian fishing village. My loved ones looked at me strangely when I muttered "I absolutely need three fish to upgrade my wood" while brushing my teeth.

How did I get here? It all started with a simple blue box sitting on my table: Saltfjord.

The story of a gaming revelation

First contact, first question. I'll admit without shame: I initially thought I was dealing with yet another European management game dressed up in Scandinavian folklore. What I didn't know then was that this box actually concealed a renaissance. Because Saltfjord is none other than the reimagined reprint of Santa Maria (2017), the game by Kristian Amundsen Østby and Eilif Svensson published by Aporta Games.

The transition from Spanish colonies in South America to Norwegian fjords isn't just a simple change of scenery. Where Santa Maria offered us the chance to embody conquistadors and evangelists in their expeditions to the old world, Saltfjord transports us to a historically lighter universe, evoking the late 19th century in an isolated village in northern Norway, where "fish is king."

But as several critics have pointed out, this story remains "so anecdotal that any setting could have been used" - a flaw the game shares with its colonial predecessor. Faced with your grid board, your colored dice, and your resource cubes, you quickly realize that the theme "completely falls by the wayside." First warning: if you're looking for thematic immersion, Saltfjord might leave you on the dock, just as Santa Maria left its players on the docks of Seville.

But sometimes, magic happens where you least expect it.

The click: when math becomes addictive

My first game started like a lesson in applied accounting. The system inherited from Santa Maria remains intact in its fundamentals: take a die, activate a row or column, collect resources, repeat. "Fascinating," I said to myself, yawning. My brain was already craving its Netflix dopamine fix.

Then something strange happened around the middle of the game. That white die I had just placed triggered a cascade of actions: wood production, transformation into planks, construction of a new building, activation of a technology, gaining fish... Suddenly, my village-board looked like a well-oiled machine where each cog drove the next.

And then I understood. Saltfjord doesn't sell you Norwegian dreams, any more than Santa Maria sold you colonial dreams. It offers you something more precious: the intoxication of perfect efficiency. That unique sensation where your plan unfolds exactly as expected, where each decision produces exactly the intended effect.

It's the same pleasure as watching dominoes fall in perfect order, or completing a difficult puzzle. Except here, you're building the puzzle with each game.

The secret art of transformation

Let me explain why Saltfjord transforms mundane actions into magical moments. Everything relies on a simple but devilishly effective principle, already present in Santa Maria but refined here: the cascade of actions.

Imagine you're a conductor. Each die you choose is like raising your baton over a particular section of the orchestra. Except in Saltfjord, this section can then trigger another section, which triggers a third, creating a symphony of efficiency that gives you chills.

Take a concrete example that happened to me last night. I took an orange die with a value of 4, activating my fourth row. First building: I gain two fish. Second building: I can exchange these fish for a resource upgrade, transforming my wood into planks. Third building: I can construct a new building with this plank. Fourth building: this new building allows me to progress on a technology track.

In one move, I triggered four different actions that feed into each other. This is exactly the sensation we seek in a good eurogame: seeing your engine run at full throttle. Peter Bartels, the illustrator who brought this reprint to life, managed to visually capture this mechanic of perfectly oiled gears.

The hidden genius of three rounds

Here's the masterstroke that took me time to grasp: Saltfjord only lasts three rounds. At first, it seems ridiculously short. How can you build anything satisfying in so little time?

This is exactly where the design genius lies, a notable improvement over Santa Maria which could sometimes drag on. This temporal constraint transforms every decision into an existential dilemma. You don't have the luxury of fumbling around or experimenting. Every choice counts, every wasted turn costs you dearly.

This constant pressure creates a delicious tension that keeps your brain permanently alert. Unlike those interminable eurogames where the final turns become mechanical, here you remain breathless until the end. Your brain runs at full speed, constantly calculating pros and cons, priorities and sacrifices.

It's like running a 400-meter race instead of a marathon: the intensity remains maximum from start to finish.

The solo mode revelation

I admit I discovered the solo mode by accident, one evening when my better half preferred watching her series rather than counting Norwegian fish with me. What a discovery!

Gone are the complicated AIs that slow down the game. Instead, a diabolically simple system of personal objectives: you must score at least 10 points in two specific areas to win. These constraints force you out of your comfort zone and to explore strategies you would never have attempted normally.

The result? Solo games of 30 minutes flat that fit perfectly into your schedule. It became my evening ritual, my little brain workout session before bed. Thirty minutes of intense reflection followed by deep satisfaction when everything articulates perfectly.

When technical excellence meets its limits

But let's be honest: Saltfjord isn't perfect. Its biggest weakness? That mechanical coldness that can be off-putting - a trait it shares with its ancestor Santa Maria.

When you activate your "fishing action," you don't feel the spray on your face. You coldly calculate whether it's profitable to continue advancing your boat pawn or to return to port to optimize your points. The Norwegian fjords become squares on a board, the fish become scoring tokens, exactly as the conquistadors of Santa Maria were just pawns on a colonial board.

This thematic disconnection can frustrate players seeking escapism in their game nights. If you want to mentally escape to Nordic coasts, move along. Saltfjord will quickly bring you back to the reality of optimization calculations.

Player interaction also remains very limited. It's assumed "each in their own corner," perfect for contemplatives but frustrating for those who enjoy social challenge and direct confrontation.

For whom the norwegian bell tolls?

Saltfjord targets a very specific population: lovers of pure optimization. If you're one of those who take pleasure in solving logical puzzles, planning several moves ahead, seeing a plan unfold perfectly, you'll love it.

However, beware if you're part of these groups:

• Families with children (too cognitively dense)

• Casual players (demanding learning curve)

• Fans of direct interaction (you largely play solo)

• Those seeking thematic immersion (Norwegian folklore is purely decorative)

The optimal player count? Three to four participants in my experience. With two, the competition for dice lacks bite. With four, thinking times can drag on if you encounter perfectionists (and Saltfjord attracts perfectionists like a magnet).

The art of details that change everything

Let's talk about those little things that distinguish a good game from an excellent game. Saltfjord is full of these intelligent details that make life easier without you realizing it.

The resource management system, for example. Instead of juggling piles of cubes that scatter everywhere, you use ingenious double-layer boards. Your cubes simply slide from one space to another to "transform": wood becomes plank, plank becomes gold. It's fluid, elegant, and avoids the permanent mess that sometimes spoiled Santa Maria games.

This attention to detail is found everywhere: translucent and beautiful dice, clear iconography, practical boards. Nothing spectacular, but everything works. It's "design for function" at its best, a sign that Aporta Games learned from experience.

The phenomenon of controlled addiction

Let me confess something embarrassing: Saltfjord made me addicted to optimization. Not in an unhealthy way, but with that particular satisfaction you feel when gradually mastering a complex system.

Each game makes me want to replay to "do better." To optimize that sequence that escaped me, to test that strategy that's been running through my head since the previous game. This is exactly the type of healthy addiction we seek in a good game: that desire to progress, to improve, to understand the system's workings more finely.

In the first games, you feel like you control nothing. Then gradually, you start to anticipate, to plan, to see synergies emerge. And when finally your engine runs at full throttle, when your actions chain together in a perfect ballet... It's magical.

My verdict as a converted reviewer

After dozens of games and as many evenings spent counting Norwegian fish, here's my conclusion: Saltfjord is a small masterpiece of gaming efficiency and a successful reprint.

It's not a revolutionary game. It's not a game that will make you dream of epic adventures. But it's a game that does exactly what it promises with remarkable technical mastery. It's pure, assumed euroludism, without frills but perfectly executed. Where Santa Maria was sometimes muddled, Saltfjord refines and streamlines.

My final score: 8.5/10

The strengths that won me over:

• A delightful cascade activation mechanic

• A brilliantly simple solo mode

• A three-round structure that maintains tension

• Attention to details that facilitates everything

• That unique satisfaction of seeing your plan work

The weaknesses that annoy me:

• A completely superficial theme

• Limited interactions between players

• Accessibility reserved for experienced players

The call of the fjord

So, are you ready to trade your Netflix evenings for Norwegian accounting sessions? If the idea of building the perfect engine makes your eyes shine, if you love those moments when everything articulates harmoniously, if you're looking for a game that respects your intelligence without overwhelming you with rules, then Saltfjord awaits you.

Whether you knew Santa Maria or are discovering this system for the first time, this Nordic reprint will seduce you with its mechanical precision. Østby and Svensson have created with Saltfjord a more elegant and accessible version of their original creation.

But beware: once you've tasted the pleasure of perfect optimization, it's hard to go back. You risk finding yourself like me, dreaming of Norwegian planks as you fall asleep.

And frankly? There are worse addictions in life.