Thanks to Hamada for helping with edits.
Let’s start with a confession: I’m not a fan of Super Mario Sunshine. As a naive, starry-eyed child, I hotly anticipated Sunshine, the sequel to my then-favorite video game Super Mario 64. I literally counted the days to its release; I poured over its Nintendo Power coverage so often that the spine on one issue gave out! Plus, GameCube classic Super Smash Bros. Melee eclipsed its Nintendo 64 predecessor, so surely Nintendo’s flagship franchise would manage the same, right? Company wunderkind Shigeru Miyamoto raised expectations by saying that Mario, their “top batter,” would also become “a bit more grown-up.” Sounded perfect to a sophisticated middle schooler like myself! And yes, that’s all on me; I had expectations Sunshine could never reasonably meet. Even if that weren’t the case, though, it was never gonna become one of my favorites. Let’s discuss some of the game’s design decisions and how they orbit one of its most infamous moments:
The Sand Bird’s formal debut in 2002’s Super Mario Sunshine (Image: Source Gaming)
A break from protocol, Super Mario Sunshine starts with Mario, Princess Peach, and a group of Toads traveling to Isle Delfino for a well-earned vacation. Trouble always follows them, though, and soon Mario’s arrested for polluting the resort—a crime he didn’t (and, amusingly, couldn’t) commit. A dreary doppelgänger dubbed Shadow Mario is the culprit, and he harasses the hero regularly. One ordeal Mario must clear before facing him on Gelato Beach, however, is collecting red doodads atop the back of a sandy monstrosity…
The Sand Bird’s History
In Super Mario Sunshine, the Sand Bird looms over the quiet Gelato Beach. After three missions exploring the area, the creature finally hatches and stars in the fourth, “The Sand Bird is Born.” It’s a quick challenge where Mario has to gather all eight Red Coins to obtain a Shine Sprite, the game’s primary MacGuffin.
“Sailing the Sandy Seas,” a play on “sailing the seven seas,” is the title of the Bird’s Super Mario Galaxy 2 encore. In case it isn’t obvious that the cacti are dangerous, the floating Star Bits and coins here help guide you away from them. (Image: LongplayArchive)
Surprisingly, the Sand Bird reawakens in Super Mario Galaxy 2. After braving a short obstacle course, Mario lands on an ominous, small platform. A sign warns, “Danger! Don’t Fall!” Two other signs decorated with skulls and red x’s are partially submerged in quicksand, also implying a swift death awaits anyone who slips. Once you leap onto the desert deity for another joy ride, that’ll become a real possibility!
So, what’re my thoughts on the Sand Bird?
As the follow-up to the genre-defining Super Mario 64, Super Mario Sunshine had a lot to live up to. I don’t believe it met that bar, and today, Sunshine remains divisive. That isn’t to say it’s bad—it absolutely isn’t—but it has problems. Spend enough time exploring Isle Delfino and you’ll probably stumble upon a bizarre glitch or two. Going through the GameCube version, I randomly fell through the floor no less than three times (similar slip-ups later characterized my Sonic Heroes experience, and comparisons to that mess are not flattering). It runs at 30 FPS, half the series’ usual standard. Some of Sunshine’s missions are also… iffy. With no disrespect intended, does anybody actually like the pachinko machine, or the boring process required to access Lily Pad Ride? Or Lily Pad Ride itself? To Sunshine’s credit, those are wholly optional, but even the main path is plagued with questionable bits.
Coincidence or not, Sunshine reads like a response to Sonic Adventure. Both emphasize stories told via dubious cinematics, host NPCs whose side stories develop gradually, are janky, and even share a focus on water—although here it’s handy. (Image: Source Gaming)
A complaint against Sunshine I see often is how it handles level progression. In Mario 64, only one mission is genuinely mandatory. Sure, you select an objective when entering one of its fifteen playgrounds, but that’s largely a suggestion; you’re welcome to pursue another should something else catch your eye. Wanna grab that caged Power Star in Bob-omb Battlefield instead of facing its mustached monarch? Go for it! You need seventy Power Stars; it doesn’t matter which ones. This freedom made my run through Mario 64 as a kid all the more magical.
However, Sunshine is different. It hosts seven stages with eight main Shine Sprites apiece, but you must obtain the first seven in each; anything past them does nothing to bring you closer to the finale. One reason for this change is that it nudged the 3D Super Mario titles closer towards the more linear progression of their 2D predecessors, a direction Sunshine’s sequels furthered. More importantly, it services Sunshine’s narrative ambitions. Unlike other mainline Marios, Sunshine boasts fully voiced cutscenes, and its levels sorta follow suit by telling loose stories across their episode strings. Yes, it’s an interesting setup and has positives; seeing these communities change is charming, for example. But Sunshine struggles to answer that potential, and the end result feels… contradictory, even regressive: Isle Delfino’s picturesque sandboxes can only be explored on these rigid terms. Critically, this leaves no wiggle room to avoid tasks you may find unsatisfying, an issue aggravated by how often Sunshine recycles ideas (my opening session on this replay saw me fight a miniboss, Proto Piranha, five times and a normal one, Petey Piranha, twice, neither of whom spiced up their rematches with any clever twists. Oh, and each stage’s seventh Shine is always a dull dash to catch Shadow Mario, tedium that even infects the Delfino Plaza hub).
Gelato Beach is arguably the most mundane looking of Sunshine’s locations, hence its mascot. The Bird elevates the place. (Image: Source Gaming)
Sunshine’s take on Mario is simultaneously a strength and weakness. Once you acclimate to his moveset and the physics, Mario’s a snappy joy to control. Arguably the best he’s ever felt in a 3D space, even! Perhaps befitting a game built around a resort island and sentient super soaker, though, he’s slippery; the guy hits max speed almost instantly. It recalls Super Mario Land, a game where I rarely run because it’s easy to accidentally run off a cliff (Super Mario Galaxy considerably slowed him down, debatably to the point of overcorrection)! Casual players who simply want to reach the credits have no incentive to master Mario’s controls. Most Mario fans I know who might’ve considered doing so did not otherwise find Sunshine engaging enough to bother. Anecdotally speaking, almost everyone in my social circles regrettably left Isle Delfino dissatisfied with how its hero handles.
And that finally brings us to the Sand Bird, an early trial where you may wind up grappling with some of these quirks. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, though. It’s important to address that Sunshine nicely hypes up the seaside chicken. Upon first visiting Gelato Beach, the third course, you’ll likely notice Shrine Tower, the giant structure in its center, and the three mirrors surrounding it. Everything is set up so the egg therein receives the warmth of the sun, to ensure the fabled Bird hatches. The locals speak of it with excitement and pride, noting that this ritual is a century in the making! And the place preps you for its birth: the first mission is a sprint through a sand-themed secret course, and the second involves knocking pests off those mirrors (the aftermath of which instigates the third, exterminating the wild Wiggler that slept atop the structure). Whenever it hatches, you figure something big’s gonna happen!
Super Mario Sunshine left a lot on the cutting room floor. Little of it is of pertinence to the Sand Bird. (Image: Source Gaming)
Cue its fourth mission. You’ll briefly trek across familiar terrain and bounce into the now-empty egg, teleporting Mario into the heavens—and atop a cloud neighboring the newborn. It’s a massive, oddly majestic beast, one composed of numerous sand blocks. More pressingly, this is Gelato Beach’s requisite Red Coin episode: one sits on the Bird’s head, another its tail, one its spine, and four are spread across its wings. The final goodie waits atop the tower the Bird gradually ascends, meaning you must survive a minute and a half without falling off to claim it and, therefore, the Shine Sprite. Collecting Red Coins was rarely an exciting activity in Mario 64, and it’s even less so in Sunshine (and if you seek every Shine, you’re gonna collect a lot of them; its first “miniature garden,” Bianco Hills, alone has four Red Coin missions). However, “The Sand Bird is Born” smartly employs a striking backdrop, making this iteration of the cliché the most memorable one between the two titles.
Time for another confession. I hope this doesn’t come across as bragging—I assure you, Sunshine gave me headaches elsewhere—but I never found the Sand Bird unreasonable. Nintendo had the courtesy to plop a 1-Up Mushroom near the start of the sub-course, presumably because they were rightfully concerned about its difficulty. The Sand Bird’s neck and tail are thin, yes, but you have plenty of time to tread carefully. Four of the dreaded Blue Coins rest along clouds the Bird passes, but reaching them isn’t tough (clouds temporarily expand when you spray them), you can save the game after nabbing one, and they’re optional anyway. It’s a small detail, but I also like how the Bird screeches and sheds sand in lieu of feathers; makes it feel just that much more alive.
It surprised little Cart Boy that the sandy deity hatched as early and abruptly as it did. I figured it’d be either Gelato Beach’s sixth Shine Sprite, its final mandatory story-driven one, or its climatic eighth (which is an inane watermelon escort mission instead). (Image: Source Gaming)
Nevertheless, I often see the Sand Bird lambasted as one of Sunshine’s worst sequences. I get it. Since the Bird constantly ascends, the physics are tweaked: you must push forward when jumping to maintain Mario’s position, lest he get pushed backwards—and potentially overboard. By extension, FLUDD’s Hover Nozzle is less effective as a safety net, as it grants little height. Should you wind up stranded on a cloud or mistime a leap, you probably aren’t making it back. And while FLUDD does offer a little leeway, you’re hovering above a bottomless pit; any mistake proves fatal. Even the mere act of dashing along the Bird can prove fatal if you’re unlucky! You’ll slide off its limbs as they bob up and down at least once. Midway through, the beast will rapidly flap its wings, telegraphing that it’s about to temporarily tilt itself at a 90 degree angle; this blindsided me—and I’m sure many others—the first time through (kindly, a nearby cloud is positioned to help). And if you suffer from acrophobia, as my colleague Wolfman does, then the Bird undoubtedly makes for an unpleasant ordeal.
And, again, the Sand Bird isn’t optional. Heck, it’s only the fourth mission in the third stage! A few deliberately difficult FLUDD-less secret courses undoubtedly gave players problems by this point (Miyamoto even “somewhat regrets” making those mandatory), but I imagine the Bird still blocked plenty from progressing in Gelato Beach for a spell. If there’s any saving grace, it’s that you can get this aerial assignment out of the way early and then soak up Isle Delfino’s relaxing vibes.
World 5 is Super Mario Galaxy 2’s penultimate world, a more natural habitat for such an unsteady passerine. (Image: LongplayArchives)
But the Sand Bird’s atmosphere is pretty nice too, honestly! Soaring across a calm, cloudy sky is relaxing, a mood the music complements (even if they admittedly make for a jarring juxtaposition with the difficulty escalation). Unlike most “Character Chronicle” topics, the Sand Bird lacks a personality to dissect. Nor does it need one. It’s, well, an animal, one minding its own business as some plumber hitches a ride. Meanwhile, its design is distinctive in its minimalism. Perfectly cut, almost Minecraft-esque sand cubes make up its body, which is in the mold of the elegant Ho-oh. As my colleague Hamada points out, that makes for a surreal, compelling contrast with its animalistic behavior. Reaching its tower was rewarding, even nostalgic—while I doubt this was intentional, it evoked finishing the Tower of the Wing Cap, a seminal secret area in Mario 64. …Hey, both towers hover atop a blue, ethereal void and are surrounded by four similar, smaller structures. To little Cart Boy, that was similarity enough to briefly drudge up happy memories.
I imagine many Sunshine veterans recoiled in horror upon seeing the Sand Bird again in Slipsand Galaxy. Loosely, Super Mario Galaxy 2’s take on it is identical: you ride it towards a prize, this time a Power Star. But this Bird’s a very different beast. It moves in a straight line, there’s no pushback from the wind when jumping, and its body gets temporarily destroyed by cacti and enemies (this almost builds upon Gelato Beach’s secret course, whose sand blocks evaporate seconds after being touched). It can be tricky, though you’re given ample time to react to oncoming hazards. Only the off-kilter Chain Chomp at the end might throw you off—but even then, its movements are more predictable than the Bird’s blindsiding Sunshine maneuver.
A sandstorm provides an intensity to Slipsand’s atmosphere, even if it doesn’t really obscure the view. Limiting that would probably make this trip a little too unwieldy! (Image: LongplayArchives)
More distances this Bird from its inspiration: it’s substantially smaller, barely animates, and never shrieks. However, its eyes and the lines along the bottom of its body glow when Mario approaches, suggest its grainy grandeur. It does supply a free 1-Up, but only midway through the trial, which altogether lasts roughly twice as long as Sunshine’s. Nevertheless, this romp is much simpler, to the point where I always viewed Galaxy 2’s glider and Sunshine’s as separate entities (the fact its Japanese name is spelt differently between the two suggests that may be the case). This one’s nakedly a set piece in a video game, one that patiently waits for Mario to hop atop it. It isn’t a wild animal, the foundation of a community’s culture, or even a particularly memorable obstacle course. But it is perfectly serviceable, and frankly, the fact a curio as maligned as the Sand Bird reappeared in any form is more noteworthy than the reappearance itself.
This series is a nice outlet for me to express unconventional opinions, and today’s is a doozy: I’m fond of the Sand Bird. Both versions, though the original easily rises as the more iconic, memorable one. And its Bird embodies Sunshine: it’s unapologetically weird, bold, and kinda frustrating. For what it’s worth, I doubt the avifauna will ever “redeem” itself through another platforming course, nor is it someone anyone would clamor to see enter, say, Mario Kart World. I don’t think it’s impossible for the Sand Bird to return—I mean, it technically already has once—considering how skillfully Nintendo draws from Mario’s past while evolving it. But if the desert deity never re-enters Mario’s orbit, then it’ll peacefully keep flying through the heavens undisturbed.
In Sunshine, the Sand Bird only offers the thinnest of safety nets, whereas it’s straightforward in Galaxy 2. You can see how Miyamoto’s regrets informed Sunshine’s sequels, and the Bird’s two incarnations make for an informative comparison. (Image: Source Gaming)
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