A Different Look at an Octopus

  A few days ago Bob and I went swimming at Kahalu'u.  As it was raining cats and dogs, Sandra and Kim went into the village for coffee.

   The rain had no effect on the water, it was cool and clear, a fine pattering was audible as we swam along.    For most of the swim we saw

Poor Little Puffer

nothing more interesting than three stripe belly puffers.  The first we encountered was all hunkered down and didn't seem to be in the pink of health, the second and third were small fishies just puffing along, as puffers are wont to do on a rainy day.

    As we swam near the Menehune Breakwater, the current increased and the surface became extremely choppy.  Suddenly, this was a lot of work.  As I struggled along, I saw a most interesting association.  A small blue  goatfish was hunting with a male bird wrasse.  The goatfish was young, so instead of a yellow blotch on the caudal peduncle he bore a discreet harvest moon.  From a physical standpoint there was nothing remarkable

Baby Blue Goatfish and I'wi Hunting Together in K Bay

about the I'iwi, but I  had never witnessed one hunting with  another fish before.  They stayed together for as long as I could follow them and I did my best to get a picture for your pleasure.

    Blue goatfish commonly hunt with adolescent ulua.  The usual ratio is three goatfish per trevally.   One has to wonder if the bird wrasse was getting anything out of this, but I didn't hear him complain.

   On the way in I encountered a brown dragon wrasse.  Much has been made of late in the Beach Blog of the green dragon wrasse, so I thought that I would show you this brown one.  In the event that you presumed that all dragon wrasses supported the nefarious criminals of the University of Oregon football team, you now have evidence to the contrary.  Rather obviously, this fellow supports Brown.  I suppose when he grows up he wants to live in Manhattan and be an investment banker.  The snob.

    I was just about to go in when I made eye contact with Bob, who was about five yards away.  "Octopus"

The chocolate ones go great with a glass of milk!

he said quietly.  I swam over expecting that the shy mollusc would have disappeared into the reef.  Such was the case.  Neither Bob nor I could see a trace of him when we peered under the rock, only three feet deep, where the octopus had disappeared.

  I backed off about five feet or so and Bob went down for one more attempt.  To stabilize himself as he looked under the large rock, he grabbed both edges.  As he floated up, the rock came off the bottom a tiny amount, less than an inch.  As this happened, the sheltering octopus slowly oozed from under rock.  It took him about twenty seconds to reconstitute himself upright in the water.  Just for a moment, as he hung there, he reminded me of the ghost that lives in the vat down in the laboratory in the Wizard of Id.  It was an uncanny resemblance.

    The octopus shot me a look of utter disdain and swam a few yards to a different rock under which he disappeared without a trace.  The whole delightful episode took less than half a minute.

I swear, the Octopus looked just like this.

    I was left wondering how an animal who can compress his nervous system so completely could be so intelligent.  Rumor has it that an octopus at the Hatfield Marine Science complex in Newport, Oregon would  emerge from his tank, on occasion, to pick the pockets of unsuspecting muggles.   What would happen if I was forced to compress my brain so it fit under a rock?  I wouldn't be writing blogs, that's for sure.  And perhaps the world would be a better place.  Hopefully not.

jeff

And Away We Go.