Gameplay
Spindrift has maybe five rules, and every one of them compounds. This page is the whole rulebook.
Momentum is the game
Your ship obeys drift physics. Thrust (↑) adds velocity in whatever direction
the nose points; rotation (← and →) turns the nose without changing your
motion; and there are no brakes. The ship keeps drifting until you turn
around and thrust against your own momentum. Every burst of speed is a debt your
future self repays in counter-thrust. Learning to fly Spindrift is mostly learning
to want less speed.
Rocks split
Shooting a rock does not remove it; it subdivides it. Big rocks break into smaller rocks, those break into smaller ones still, and only the smallest vanish outright when hit. The practical consequences:
- Every shot at a big rock increases the number of objects on screen.
- Smaller rocks are faster and worth more; danger and value rise together.
- Clearing the field is a controlled demolition, not a spray. Tips has the technique.
Saucers
Saucers cross the field and shoot at you. The large saucer is casual about it; the small saucer is worth five times more and is considerably less casual. Either way, a saucer changes your priorities instantly: rocks drift predictably, saucers aim.
Scoring
| Target | Points |
|---|---|
| Big rock | 20 |
| Medium rock | 50 |
| Small rock | 100 |
| Large saucer | 200 |
| Small saucer | 1,000 |
Two more numbers matter:
- Bonus ship at 10,000 points. An extra ship for consistent play, and a real milestone the first time you reach it.
- HI score. Your best run, kept persistently in your browser, sitting at the top of the screen like a dare.
Note the economics: small targets pay best. A small rock outscores a big one five to one, and a small saucer pays as much as fifty big rocks. The game pays you the most for handling exactly the things most eager to kill you.
Hyperspace
Shift teleports the ship to a random location, instantly. It is the escape hatch
for when a collision is otherwise certain, and it is genuinely risky, because you
can rematerialize somewhere worse: in a rock's path, beside a saucer, or right
in the crossfire. Use it when the alternative is definitely dying, accept the
coin flip, and never build a plan around it.
A run, in practice
Early waves reward patience: pick rocks apart methodically while barely moving. Mid-run, saucers force you to travel, which spends your safety margin. The late run is pure triage: small fast rocks everywhere, saucers lining up shots, and a bonus ship somewhere past the next thousand points if you can stay alive long enough to collect it.