18+ Only. Play Responsibly.
The Coin landed on reel one.
The Jolly Coin landed in the middle.
Reel three produced a compass.
That was almost a treasure hunt.
It was also exactly the sort of pirate behaviour I expected from a ship that apparently possessed a map that never lied, a spyglass that could see gold nobody else could find and three treasure chests sitting directly above the reels waiting to become relevant.
Two-thirds of the required arrangement had arrived.
The third reel had contributed navigation equipment.
The parrot looked pleased with this.
The parrot always looked pleased.
He wore a captain’s hat, a red scarf and enough leather straps to restrain a small cannon.
I started with €220.
The stake was €1.20.
Pirate Coins: 3 Chests had only three reels and three rows, which gave the entire ship surprisingly little deck space considering how much treasure it claimed to be carrying.
Above those reels sat the actual issue.
Three chests.
Purple.
Red.
Green.
The purple one had the temperament of something that wanted to throw more coins into the problem.
The green one wanted more room.
The red one apparently believed existing coins were insufficiently complicated and preferred multiplication.
At first none of them opened.
Coins appeared on the outside reels.
Jolly Coins appeared in the middle.
The required pieces repeatedly missed each other by one spin, one colour or one piece of pirate furniture.
A Coin on reel three.
No Jolly.
A Jolly in the centre.
Nothing useful to either side.
Another Coin on reel one.
The opposite edge produced something ordinary and refused to assist.
The three chests watched this from above like wooden predators with hinges.
Purple blinked once.
Green later received a coloured symbol of its own.
Red remained closed.
I started paying less attention to the normal wins.
The reels still produced them.
A few combinations moved the balance upward by small amounts.
Then downward again.
The compass came through once.
The map appeared.
The spyglass had the expression of an object that had spent years locating treasure and somehow still ended up on a three-reel slot with a parrot in charge.
Nothing had earned the right to become the main story.
The coloured coins had.
There was a Bonus Buy button.
I left it alone.
The ship was already apparently so overloaded with treasure that the product sheet described it as sitting heavy in the water.
I was not paying extra to help it find more.
It could locate its own gold.
By the twenty-third paid spin, €27.60 had gone through the stake.
€10.80 had come back in ordinary wins.
The balance sat at €203.20.
Then the reels stopped.
Purple Coin on reel one.
Green Jolly Coin in the middle.
Purple Coin on reel three.
For once the pirate crew had managed to place treasure on both sides of the person whose entire job was collecting treasure.
The purple chest opened.
The green chest opened.
The red chest did not.
Of course it did not.
Two chests had joined the expedition.
The red one remained above the reels with the quiet confidence of luggage that had no intention of being unpacked.
The field changed.
An extra row appeared.
Three reels became four symbols high.
The green chest had solved treasure hunting by creating more floor.
The purple chest immediately made its own contribution by adding extra gold pieces to random spaces.
So green had enlarged the deck.
Purple had started throwing coins onto it.
Red continued to be furniture.
The coloured symbols disappeared once the bonus began.
Gold took over.
Gold Coins.
Gold Jolly Coins.
No fruit.
No compass.
No maps.
No respectable nautical objects whatsoever.
The ship had moved beyond navigation.
It had reached the part where everybody stared at metal.
A Jolly Coin landed in the centre reel early.
It stayed.
That changed the entire rhythm.
Gold Coins appeared around it.
The Jolly collected them.
The values disappeared.
Then more arrived.
The Jolly collected those too.
This was not treasure hunting anymore.
The treasure had been located.
The only remaining activity was repeatedly sweeping it off the deck before somebody tripped over a 6x coin.
The first proper collection pulled in 1x, 3x and 5x.
Nine times the stake.
The sticky Jolly remained where it was.
It had eaten the treasure and kept its seat.
Next spin, the purple chest became more enthusiastic.
Extra gold symbols appeared across the expanded field.
A 2x.
A 4x.
A 6x.
Another 2x joined them naturally.
The Jolly took all four.
Fourteen times.
The coins vanished again.
The Jolly stayed.
At this point I had stopped thinking of it as a symbol.
It was a hole in the middle reel through which treasure disappeared.
The parrot remained on the side of the screen wearing all his straps.
Three chests remained above.
Purple was actively making the ship richer.
Green had physically enlarged the place.
Red had still contributed nothing beyond colour balance.
Another bonus spin began.
Gold landed on the lower extra row first.
Then reel one.
Then reel three.
The purple effect added another piece into an open position.
The Jolly was already waiting.
Five.
One.
Eight.
Fourteen again.
Gone.
The expanded field emptied back around the sticky centre piece.
The green chest had created an entire additional row primarily so the purple chest could fill it with treasure for the Jolly to remove.
This was an impressively short food chain.
Chest.
Coin.
Jolly.
Gone.
The bonus counter was getting low.
No jackpot had appeared.
That suited the session.
The whole thing had already become strange enough without the Mini, Mega, Super or Grand suddenly climbing aboard.
The last useful burst of gold arrived late.
A 7x appeared.
Then 4x.
Then 6x.
Seventeen times the stake waited around the sticky Jolly for approximately the amount of time required to identify it as treasure.
The Jolly collected everything.
Seventeen.
The total from the feature reached 54x.
At €1.20, that meant €64.80.
My balance moved to €268.
That was enough gold for the ship to become even more unnecessarily heavy.
The game returned to three rows.
Purple closed.
Green closed.
Red, having never opened in the first place, achieved closure by continuing exactly as before.
I was €48 ahead of where I had started.
The next few paid spins became a small experiment.
Not a chase for another bonus.
Not really.
I wanted one thing.
Red.
A proper red trigger piece.
The chest had spent the entire feature sitting above two functioning colleagues while purple produced extra treasure and green physically expanded the reels.
It deserved one opportunity to prove it contained anything.
The normal pirate symbols returned.
Compass.
Map.
Spyglass.
Ordinary combinations.
A couple of small wins reduced the cost of the experiment.
One spin produced a purple Coin on the outside.
Wrong colour.
Another gave me a Green Jolly without the matching outer pieces.
The green chest had already done enough.
It did not need a second shift.
Seventeen additional paid spins cost €20.40.
€8.40 returned.
The balance settled at €256.
Then came the final useful spin.
A red Coin landed on reel three.
Nothing red on reel one.
No Jolly in the middle.
Just one red Coin.
The chest above it did nothing.
I left the screen there for a second.
Purple had opened.
Green had opened.
Together they had created a taller treasure field, filled it with extra gold and handed a sticky Jolly Coin enough work to collect 54x.
Red had spent the entire session waiting for the correct combination and finished with one lonely coin sitting three reels below it.
The ship was still visibly overloaded.
The parrot was still wearing enough straps for several maritime emergencies.
The red chest remained shut.
I finished at €256.
€36 ahead.
Two chests had done all the work.
The third could explain itself to the parrot.
Mystic Totems advertises max win. It delivers max whiplash.