Great Bay Temple and the Western Coast
“Limitless and immortal, the waters are the beginning and end of all things on earth.”
— Heinrich Zimmer
From the shore, the Great Bay and the expanse of water beyond certainly seem limitless. The soft, blue edge of the sky mingles with the surface of the sea, and, in the distance, they appear inseparable. The wisps of cloud overhead are echoed in the white foam of the waves, and we can only imagine how the other senses are engaged by this place – the warmth of the sun, the voice of the wind, the smell of the air. Great Bay Coast is, as its inhabitants well know, a picturesque land of beauty and serenity. Palm trees dot the shoreline, towels and umbrellas are laid out on the sand, and small boats are docked nearby, all awaiting the tourist season. Yet, for all this preparation, the beach is empty. The only being we can see is floating gently in the tide, and even he is closer to death than to life. The quiet, unsettling music confirms our original suspicion: something here is not quite as it should be.
— Heinrich Zimmer
From the shore, the Great Bay and the expanse of water beyond certainly seem limitless. The soft, blue edge of the sky mingles with the surface of the sea, and, in the distance, they appear inseparable. The wisps of cloud overhead are echoed in the white foam of the waves, and we can only imagine how the other senses are engaged by this place – the warmth of the sun, the voice of the wind, the smell of the air. Great Bay Coast is, as its inhabitants well know, a picturesque land of beauty and serenity. Palm trees dot the shoreline, towels and umbrellas are laid out on the sand, and small boats are docked nearby, all awaiting the tourist season. Yet, for all this preparation, the beach is empty. The only being we can see is floating gently in the tide, and even he is closer to death than to life. The quiet, unsettling music confirms our original suspicion: something here is not quite as it should be.
As with every exit out of Clock Town, the gateway to the sea has been designed with regional materials and style. And as Great Bay is a coastal area, many of the design elements reflect the ocean. Five shells adorn the lintel above the gateway — four below, supporting one larger shell — and vivid red coral serves as a complement to the otherwise gentle hues of the marine life atop the portal. The rest of the gate is of a plain grey stone, much like the path that runs out the gate to the sea. Stone tiles lead through two lively fountains on either side of the path, which itself eventually becomes lost on a yellow beach dotted with starfish and pebbles. Fences of various heights block the natural flow of the canyon here, though these are more decorative than functional; each fence bears a tidal wave pattern in a green pastel, above which rest various floral motifs. The strongest colors on these walls, however, are blue and white, a combination which almost inevitably brings up an image of the Cycladic islands of Greece, with their white-washed houses and sky-blue roofs. Regional design in the Great Bay province is eclectic, and, as we will see, many real-world influences are at play in its landscape and architecture.
Our first glimpse of the bay comes after the narrow stone canyon empties out onto the beach. This coastline is the main hub of this region of Termina, and from here the main story unfolds. Near the shore, Link finds the nearly-lifeless body of a Zora named Mikau, who tells Link of his hardships, and how he was wounded in his attempt to rescue the eggs of a Zoran mother. Before passing, he implores Link to finish what he started, and, playing the Song of Healing, Link sends Mikau into the hereafter and seals his soul inside a mask. Ever-respectful, Link buries the Zora near the spot where he died and marks his grave with a tombstone that looks out at the sea.
Our first glimpse of the bay comes after the narrow stone canyon empties out onto the beach. This coastline is the main hub of this region of Termina, and from here the main story unfolds. Near the shore, Link finds the nearly-lifeless body of a Zora named Mikau, who tells Link of his hardships, and how he was wounded in his attempt to rescue the eggs of a Zoran mother. Before passing, he implores Link to finish what he started, and, playing the Song of Healing, Link sends Mikau into the hereafter and seals his soul inside a mask. Ever-respectful, Link buries the Zora near the spot where he died and marks his grave with a tombstone that looks out at the sea.
Nestled into a hollow at the end of the beach are two buildings. Like the low fences nearby, one of these houses is a white-washed structure, with an orange-tiled roof. (The other we shall touch upon later.) This small home is surrounded by a tiled footpath which reflects the lower portion of the exterior wall, and has two quaint windows and a chimney. A small garden rests nearby, and on top of the roof is a decorative image of what is perhaps the sun. Inside, the house is supported by wooden beams, and the roof tiles appear to be held up with thatch. The interior stone walls, like those painted white on the exterior, are adorned with the same tidal wave pattern that is now becoming familiar; like the outside coloration of the house, this wave design is in white. A substantial fireplace sits opposite the door, across a floor of grey, white, and blue tiles; in the center of the floor is a sunburst, or compass rose, etched into an octagonal piece of stone. All the standard furnishings are present: chairs, tables, and stools are all made of bamboo, with carved wood and weavings as embellishments; fishing supplies like nets, hooks, and buckets are in abundance, on both the walls and floor; and a large aquarium further ties this home to the ocean just outside. Personal touches, like the reed-poster of a Gerudo Pirate, give us a glimpse into the life of an isolated fisherman at the edge of the world.
From the beach, many other structures and landforms are visible, the most curious of which is the Marine Research Center, elevated on a platform just off the shore. Made entirely of metal, this building was likely influenced by two nautical items: the helmet of an early diving suit and the curved hook commonly used by longshoremen when loading cargo on and off of ships. The tiny nautical window of the building reflects the faceplate of a diving helmet, which, historically, needed to be small due to the extreme pressure of the deep sea. The heavy bolts around the door (which echo the large bolts used to attach diving helmets to the body of the suit), as well as the shape and material of the building, all provide a fascinating architectural interpretation of an early diving suit. The hook atop the building is a simple, straightforward representation of a hand tool often used by dockside laborers. These two design influences, while an odd combination, come together for an incredibly memorable building in the waters just off of the coast.
From the beach, many other structures and landforms are visible, the most curious of which is the Marine Research Center, elevated on a platform just off the shore. Made entirely of metal, this building was likely influenced by two nautical items: the helmet of an early diving suit and the curved hook commonly used by longshoremen when loading cargo on and off of ships. The tiny nautical window of the building reflects the faceplate of a diving helmet, which, historically, needed to be small due to the extreme pressure of the deep sea. The heavy bolts around the door (which echo the large bolts used to attach diving helmets to the body of the suit), as well as the shape and material of the building, all provide a fascinating architectural interpretation of an early diving suit. The hook atop the building is a simple, straightforward representation of a hand tool often used by dockside laborers. These two design influences, while an odd combination, come together for an incredibly memorable building in the waters just off of the coast.
On the inside, we see many of the same things already familiar to us from this region — from the holding tank to the floor tiles. But, as is likely normal for a scientific setting, there are many pieces of equipment not seen anywhere else at this point; these range from the multicolored pipes that crisscross the ceiling to the valves, beakers, and chemicals that rest on a small table beside the tank. And, as in the Fisherman’s Hut, marine tools like anchors and spears are also present. As the name suggests, this research center was designed to investigate and explore the water of the bay, as well as its lifeforms. The Professor who watches over the bay and its creatures realizes that the rising temperature of the water is soon going to make ocean life impossible, but for the strange, violent creatures that have recently shown up in the sea. With this new information, we begin to piece together the puzzle of the Great Bay, and see the myriad connections that come into play in this chapter of the story – from the relational hardships of Mikau and Lulu, to the environmental challenges of rising temperatures and adverse changes in fauna.
Much of the suffering in this region stems from the pirates that dwell in the northern part of the bay area. Far crueler than any other people in Termina, these pirates have not only stolen the children of a fellow sentient being, but have beaten to death their would-be rescuer. Yet, underlying even this is the mischief of the possessed Skull Kid, who told the pirates that the only way to gain entry into the Great Bay Temple was to kidnap the Zora eggs, and that this would lead them to great treasure. In order to rescue the eggs, Link must somehow find his way past the great wall protecting this hidden cove, and sneak his way into the fortress itself. Through a series of smaller passages, Link eventually emerges into a highly-secure facility. Here, the tiered platforms, watchtowers, and guards all reinforce the image of a military complex, and the combination of metalwork and angular stone gives off an aura of strength. Further enhancing this feeling are the patterns and symbols of the Gerudo Pirates as seen upon the exterior walls; designs of blue, orange, and red are layered upon the dark-grey stones like tattoos, and the grey-on-red emblem of the Pirates — a horned skull above two swords — completes the atmospheric makeup. In the end, however, Link is able to rescue the eggs from their holding tank and return them to the Professor in the Marine Research Center, who watches over them until they hatch, which gives Link the key and song needed to open the path to Great Bay Temple.
To the far south of the coastline rests the center of the Zoran community. Nearby, the Waterfall Rapids flow high in the cliffs above the ocean, accessible only by skillful climbing. A series of freshwater streams, these rapids run through narrow channels at swift speeds, creating powerful currents. Alongside these streams are deep pools, scattered caves, and tunnels in the rock through which many waters flow, unseen by all. Palm trees and tropical undergrowth crowd the edges of the waterways, and these natural filters create beautiful water that is absolutely pure and clear. Waterfalls from higher in the rock flow into a central pool, and the water from this pool runs through a wooden gate bound with cords. At the end of one stream is a large, elaborate beaver dam which helps to control the flow and level of the waters in this ecosystem, bridging the gap between natural and artificial.
Below the Waterfall Rapids is a sheltered cove. This southern part of Great Bay Coast is known as Zora Cape, and, as has been said, it is here that the Zora have built their home. Seen from the shore, the outside of Zora Hall seems only like the fin of a great fish set onto a low island in the surf. Yet, as we approach, it becomes clear that most of the structure rests underwater. The tail of the fish is simply the crown of the structure, and the entrance — which has been built into the mouth of the grey-green fish — is below the surface in a ring of stone. Inside, the body of the fish forms a pointed cone that serves as the main chamber of this settlement. The marine rock of the hall flickers faintly like an iridescent mother of pearl, and with the light reflecting off the water, the walls seem themselves to move and dance as the surface of the sea. Like most Zora structures, many of the chambers are left in a completely natural state, and flowing water creates both the atmosphere and enchantment in which the Zora seem to thrive. Under the sloping stone of the ceiling, an immense clam shell forms a stage, and a walkway bound in an undular blue design encircles both the stage and its moat.
Also in this room are two paths. One winds upward to overlook the central hall, and is lit with wall sconces in the form of cheerful orange shells. At the foot of this pathway are five rooms. The most ornate doorway, strangely, leads to the shop; the door is set into a large seashell, and labeled with a sign of driftwood hung by kelp. The other four doors house the band members, each of which has a different specialization, a different temperament, and, therefore, a different style. Each room within is embellished with various forms of ocean life, from simple shells and coral, to the rib-cage of a whale or the body of a truly gargantuan crab. Though the chambers are natural, with their unadorned stone walls and various outcroppings, the decorations have all been taken from the sea and left in an organic state; else, only a few things like chairs, beds, and tables show obvious signs of having been created, which is highly reflective of the ideals and aesthetics of the Zora. The remaining pathway leads outside to a ledge that looks out onto a small island with two diminutive palms. Alongside the Zoran mother, who has once again found her voice, Link plays gentle music by the edge of the sea, and what was simply an island a moment ago has now risen to become the shell of a massive turtle — a powerful being that is aware of everything which occurs in the sea. With his aid, Link is transported to the Great Bay Temple, the place from which the death of the sea emanates.
Also in this room are two paths. One winds upward to overlook the central hall, and is lit with wall sconces in the form of cheerful orange shells. At the foot of this pathway are five rooms. The most ornate doorway, strangely, leads to the shop; the door is set into a large seashell, and labeled with a sign of driftwood hung by kelp. The other four doors house the band members, each of which has a different specialization, a different temperament, and, therefore, a different style. Each room within is embellished with various forms of ocean life, from simple shells and coral, to the rib-cage of a whale or the body of a truly gargantuan crab. Though the chambers are natural, with their unadorned stone walls and various outcroppings, the decorations have all been taken from the sea and left in an organic state; else, only a few things like chairs, beds, and tables show obvious signs of having been created, which is highly reflective of the ideals and aesthetics of the Zora. The remaining pathway leads outside to a ledge that looks out onto a small island with two diminutive palms. Alongside the Zoran mother, who has once again found her voice, Link plays gentle music by the edge of the sea, and what was simply an island a moment ago has now risen to become the shell of a massive turtle — a powerful being that is aware of everything which occurs in the sea. With his aid, Link is transported to the Great Bay Temple, the place from which the death of the sea emanates.
In the distance, a building much the same as Zora Hall can be seen upon the surface of the water. Great Bay Temple exists within and under another stone fish — this one leaping upon the waves. As Link enters the temple and bids farewell to the Giant Turtle, he finds himself in a large docking area lit not only by torches, but by what appear to be electric lights. The atmosphere is dark and murky throughout much of this temple, but the nautical light fixtures, with their thick glass and heavy bolts, delineate pathways and doorways and serve as guides through the dim passages. While we do not know the true purpose of this structure, we can hazard a few educated guesses based upon what we see inside: brightly-colored water spouts shaped like fish churn great waterwheels, and large, interweaving pipes flow through walls, across the ceiling, and under the water in each room. This temple more closely resembles a mechanical facility than it does a place of worship, as would be suggested by the nomenclature of this place.
Gears, platforms, and switches all enable Link to change the level of the water, and direct its flow, much the same as in other Water Temples throughout the series, but this temple is likely the most technologically-advanced of any temple in this age of Zelda titles. The nexus of the temple is a large, cylindrical chamber with a powerful current caused by an enormous waterwheel far below the water level. Passages and pipes flow in and out of the room, linking it with the other far-flung chambers of this dungeon, giving the complex a sense of unity: that a change in one corner of the structure will result in a corresponding effect in another area. As is true for many industrial buildings, the Great Bay Temple demonstrates the economic belief in function over form. This structure was not designed with beauty in mind; instead, the metal-sheeted walls, drainage pipes, and the industrial grunge all point to the triumph of utility over appearance. Given these facts, what can we make of this temple? Likely, it is a facility with an intended function rather than a place where the people of the ocean gather for religious purposes (though it could be both). What this function is, however, is never explicitly stated. Yet, given the mechanics of the building, it likely has something to do with the ocean in which it rests, and given that the source of the ocean’s sickness itself stems from this corrupted facility, it is likely that it controls either water purification or temperature, or some other aspect of maintaining a healthy, temperate body of water. We can never know which of these hypotheses underlies the true purpose behind this structure, but when Link sets things aright within the temple, the external waters once again become stable, regaining their purity and capacity to support life.
And we are not the only witnesses to this unknowable phenomenon. Even the professor, who is the expert on the waters in this bay, concedes his confusion. As befits the wise, it is never unseemly to admit ignorance, and even then we can acknowledge our relief when something is made right, even when we don’t understand how it has been made right. When Great Bay is returned to normalcy, we must, like the bay scientist, admit: “I don’t understand what happened, but it seems the ocean has reclaimed its serenity.” And let us simply be thankful for that.
And we are not the only witnesses to this unknowable phenomenon. Even the professor, who is the expert on the waters in this bay, concedes his confusion. As befits the wise, it is never unseemly to admit ignorance, and even then we can acknowledge our relief when something is made right, even when we don’t understand how it has been made right. When Great Bay is returned to normalcy, we must, like the bay scientist, admit: “I don’t understand what happened, but it seems the ocean has reclaimed its serenity.” And let us simply be thankful for that.