Louis Verhaard's prize-winning move: let the backtracker place a mismatched piece, but only at chosen depths near the end of the board. Each allowed slip costs one point of score and multiplies the number of target boards astronomically. That is why his 467 was found more than fifty times, and the direct ancestor of Blackwood's breaks.
Edge slipping is the deliberate placement of a piece that does not match one
of its neighbours. Louis Verhaard, who coined the term on the mailing list,
defined it in one line: "putting a piece on the board that does not match the
colour of one or more of its neighbours"
(msg 6328). That sounds like a
description of failure. It is in fact the single most consequential
partial-score idea in the puzzle's history: because Eternity II's prize
ladder scored matched edges rather than perfect completion, a mismatch
costs exactly one point of 480, and tolerating a budget of them converts
one unreachable target, the perfect board, into an astronomical number of
reachable ones. The craft is in the word budget: slips are not allowed
anywhere, but unlocked on a schedule, deep in the search, where they are
cheap. Everything on this page is about that schedule.
In the summer of 2008, Verhaard was stuck the legitimate way. Without any
mismatch tolerance he had found hundreds of partials with 248 pieces
correctly placed (score 450) and calculated his ceiling at roughly 456. He
only discovered that half-fitting pieces were allowed when he ran Bob
Cousins's public solver (originally Dave Clark's) and watched it hit 458
within a minute; he had, by his own cheerful admission, never bothered to
read the rules (msg 5767). The
same discovery struck Max independently that July: he tweaked his
backtracker to tolerate single mismatched edges past piece 215 and took a
219-piece scanline partial to 461 on the spot
(msg 5691); by September he
was past the community's "don't-talk-about-limit" of 463, "quite easily".
Verhaard's reply, "Max, you are really a dangerous man!", opens the
method exchange in which both describe the shape of the mature technique:
heuristic depth-first search tuned to keep the remaining pieces tileable,
with a mismatch allowance at the end
(msgs 5767–5787).
Six months later, the first scrutiny paid out: $10,000 to "Anna Karlsson
from Lund" (Verhaard's wife, running his program,
msg 6891) for a board with
467 of 480 edges matched. The number that matters for this page is not 467
but fifty: "the 467 was not a once-off; I found it more than 50 times"
(msg 7321). A score that no
exhaustive argument said should be findable at all was being found
repeatedly, on hobbyist hardware, and when Verhaard released the solver,
JSA reproduced it from the outside, logging 4,017,182 boards at 463, 227,245
at 464, 13,637 at 465, 625 at 466 and finally two 467s over roughly eighty
days of continuous running
(msg 6687). That ladder of
rarity is climbable for one reason: every rung is not a single board but a
combinatorially enormous class of boards, and slipping is what makes the
class reachable. Most of Verhaard's 467s had a clean score, pieces with
no mismatched edge at all, of only 247
(msg 7321); the mismatches
were not blemishes on the result, they were the mechanism.
Verhaard's own description is compact
(msg 7321). The program
"searches normally" (a depth-first backtracker over a fixed fill order,
with heuristics tuned to maximize the tileability of the remaining pieces)
but at certain depths it allows edge slipping: a piece may be placed with
one edge disagreeing with an already placed neighbour. He is explicit about
what it is not: the solver does not first build a clean partial and then
cram leftover pieces into the holes at the end, and it is a different
program from his clean-score searcher, which is allowed to skip squares
instead of mismatching them.
The allowance is depth-gated and cumulative, structured as what his
documentation calls the slip array: for every depth, the number of slipped
edges the search is permitted to have accumulated so far. Below the first
gate the solver is an ordinary exact backtracker. Past it, each placement may
either fit perfectly or, if the budget at that depth allows, half-fit, and
the budget unlocks one slip at a time as the depth increases. Two facts make
late gates the whole game:
Branching. A random piece half-fits far more often than it fits.
Verhaard's machinery tracks the two probabilities separately, per depth,
as fitProb and halfFitProb
(msg 6423). Open the slip
door at depth 40 and you multiply the width of the tree where it is
already widest, drowning the search in junk prefixes. Open it at depth 210,
where the surviving branches are nearly forced and candidate counts hover
near zero, and the same extra option revives dying branches for almost
nothing.
Inheritance. A depth-first search never repairs a slip; undoing it
means backtracking through everything placed after it. A slip admitted at
depth 41 is baked underneath 215 subsequent placements; one admitted at
depth 221 sits under 35. Early slips spend the budget where it buys the
least and costs the most.
And the gates were not guessed. Verhaard optimized both the fill order and
the slip array with a Markov chain whose states are pairs (depth, slips used
so far), with transition probabilities estimated from measured fit and
half-fit rates; from the chain he computed the probability of reaching the
bottom of the board and the number of nodes each candidate schedule would
cost (msg 6423). The winning
schedule concentrated the entire budget late: thirteen slips, a target of
467.
▶Interactive: the edge-slipping transformExplore →
Set N = 0. One target class: the perfect boards. Nobody has ever
found one, and complex theory explains
why nobody should expect to.
Slide to N = 2. Already ≈ 1.8 × 10⁵ times more targets, at score 478.
Each extra allowed slip multiplies the class again, so the bars climb by
roughly two orders of magnitude per step.
Mind the gap at N = 1. There is no bar: a lone slipped interior edge
is parity-forbidden, and Owen's slip table has an exact zero there
(msg 6412). The only
single-mismatch boards route through the unscored border rim, the same
leak that produced the 479 story.
Stop at N = 10. Target score 470, the current record, and exactly
the break budget of Blackwood's solver.
Stop at N = 13. Target score 467, multiplier ≈ 6.9 × 10²⁷. This is
why one hobbyist's program found the prize board more than fifty times.
Toggle the gates early. Same budget, same multiplier, but the
earliest slip now sits beneath 215 later placements instead of 55, and
the extra branching lands where the tree is widest. The schedule, not
the budget, is what Verhaard's Markov chain was built to get right.
Asked how many high partials exist, Max worked backwards from the full
solutions and produced the community's rule-of-thumb count for boards with
N slipped interior edges
(msg 6390):
S(480−N)≈2N−1(N420)S(480),N≥2,
where (N420) chooses which of the 420 interior joins break, the
powers of two account (roughly) for the ways each break can be realized, and
S(480) is the number of perfect boards. Plugging in the early
complex-theory estimate S(480)=26,700 he got about 4.7×109
boards at 478, 2.9×1030 at 468 and 1.8×1032 at 467,
numbers this project has re-verified from the formula. Two consequences
matter more than the absolute values, which Max himself flagged as
oversimplified:
The cost of one more matched edge. Consecutive ratios telescope:
S(467)/S(468)=2(13420)/(12420)=2⋅408/13≈63. Each edge you refuse to slip shrinks the target class by a
factor of about sixty, matching, as Max noted, the observed behaviour of
Verhaard's solver (msg 6390),
and of the same order as Owen's ~100×-per-edge rule of thumb, posted to
the same thread the next day
(msg 6391).
The ceiling. The multiplication is bought with score: N allowed
slips cap the board at 480−N forever. Slipping buys reachability, not
quality; it converts an impossible search into a feasible one whose best
possible outcome is strictly worse.
The runtime price, by contrast, is almost nothing: per placement the solver
compares a slip counter against the slip array's entry for the current depth
(O(1) bookkeeping, incremented on a half-fit placement and restored on
backtrack). All the cost lives in the tree it unlocks, which is why the gate
placement is the design problem.
Owen closed the loop by extending
complex theory to slips: replace the
probability that all m joins match with pm(m,v), the probability that
exactly v do, via the recursion pm(m,v)=pm(m−1,v)−pm(m,v+1), then
weight by the ways to position the slips
(msg 6408). His table puts
boards with 13 slips at 2.05×1035 times the count of perfect
boards (msg 6412), seven
orders of magnitude above Max's figure, because the theory also counts
near-boards that are not perturbations of any solution, while Max counted
only those derived from a perfect board. Take either number: the target set
explodes combinatorially, while the price is linear in score.
For twelve years the 467 stood, and so did the design. When Joshua Blackwood
arrived in 2020, an outsider whose 468 was relayed to the list from Reddit,
his record solver carried a hard-coded list:
Read it against this page and it is a slip array: mismatches ("breaks", in
his vocabulary) forbidden outright for the first 200 placements, then
unlocked cumulatively, one at a time, at hand-chosen depths, ten in total,
for a target score of 470. The concept, the depth gating and the
late-concentration of the budget are Verhaard's design of 2008, re-derived
at record strength; the retuning of exactly those unlock depths is what took
Blackwood from 469 to 470. He also added a discipline Verhaard's version did
not have: no two breaks may ever touch, so every mismatch sits isolated
among matched edges, which is why any of his runs reaching 255 placements
completes to 256, and why a 469 board doubles as a 249-piece clean partial
with seven holes
(msg 10051). The full
machine, with its quota schedules and its parameter study, is on
the Blackwood page.
The arithmetic of the lineage is worth saying out loud. Verhaard's thirteen
slips targeted 467; Blackwood's ten target 470. By Max's ratio, each slip
removed costs a factor of about sixty, so those three edges are roughly a
2×105 multiplier in difficulty, paid for by twelve years of
hardware, a faster inner loop, and a community running the code in
parallel. The technique itself did not change. On a puzzle scored by matched
edges, the winning move, twice and thirteen years apart, was not a better
search for perfect boards. It was a scheduled, budgeted redefinition of what
counts as a target.