Published in the Ocean Watch column,
Honolulu Star-Advertiser © Susan Scott

May 18, 2001

Here’s a letter I received last month from a local reader: “In an earlier column on the octopus, you wrote that its life span is two years. While the largest one I’ve ever caught weighed 6 pounds, I’ve seen pictures of 15- to 20-pounders. I can’t imagine these animals growing to 20 pounds in two years. Is it possible only the female dies after spawning and the males live? Or are the larger animals a different species from the one you referred to?”

This question took me a month to answer, not because I couldn’t find information on octopuses, but because I found too much information on octopuses. There are so many books, articles, Internet links and even songs (“I’d like to be, under the sea, in an octopus’ garden …”) about these remarkable animals, it was hard not to stray.

My first diversion was an online discussion about the correct term for more than one octopus. In textbooks it’s octopods. But few people use this term; most say octopi or octopuses. Dictionaries allow both, but octopi has always sounded wrong to me. Now I know why: It’s a Greek word (oktopous) with a Latin ending (i).

It’s bulky, but I like the English ending, octopuses.

Another octopus issue is what to call their appendages. Arms or tentacles are OK; legs or hands are not.

Octopuses’ probing, sucking appendages made good monster stories in the past and good diving stories in the present. Here’s a current one I ran across: A local diver caught a large octopus (likely our so-called day octopus, 3 feet wide from outstretched arm to outstretched arm) and put it in a zippered bag on his belt. Minutes later, his dive buddy heard banging on a scuba tank. She turned to see octopus arms all over her partner. One pulled on his face mask, which flooded, another probed his ear and a third pulled his hair.

While the three arms were occupied with the man’s head, a fourth worked the bag’s zipper down its track. The woman diver reported that she half expected to see another tentacle reach up and turn off the man’s air valve.

The octopus didn’t hurt the diver, though. It was just trying to get out of that bag. (I hope it did.)

Octopuses can do another trick with their agile tentacles: They release them to escape a predator. This isn’t as drastic as it sounds because these creatures grow back missing arms.

Octopuses, I discovered, are sometimes the inspiration for lyrical writing.

This from Jacques Cousteau: “In the water the octopus looks like a silken scarf floating, swirling and settling gently as a leaf on a rock, the color of which it immediately assumes. … The whole process is reminiscent of a ballet … somehow ethereal, and at the same time elaborate, elegant and slightly mischievous.”

On the Internet, I found another person who likes octopuses. A letter posted on an octopus site came from a paralyzed man who found great joy in his aquarium. He described the antics of his pet octopus and felt sad knowing it would die in a year or two.

“Are there any species that live longer?” he asked.

And there were the answers to my reader’s questions.

Researchers believe that most octopus species live fast and die young. In those studied (not all have been), females mate once, lay eggs, tend them and die. Males mate as many times as they can in one breeding season and then also die.

Hundreds of octopus species exist, from a half-inch long to 30 feet long.

The larger ones start bigger, grow quickly and live two, maybe three years.

Hawaii’s small day octopus lives only about one year.

Having finally answered the questions, I wearily shelved my books and shut down my modem. Now I only wish I could get that silly song out of my head.

One theory about why such a large percentage of people and terrestrial animals have this vomiting reaction to motion is that it’s an evolutionary adaptation against poisoning.

Many toxins disrupt nerve communication and thus produce sensory confusion. Vomiting eliminates the offending toxins.

The good news about seasickness is that you can’t die from it. Eventually, the brain sorts out conflicting sensory information and the illness ends. The amount of time this takes varies for each individual depending upon the person, the boat and the weather.

The best cure for seasickness is prevention, because once it hits, it’s hard to reverse. Take medication before you get on the boat and once under way, don’t do anything you know makes you sick, such as going below deck.

Seasick remedies range from medicine to meditation. The only way to know which works best for you is to try them one at a time.

Both NASA and the Navy are interested in motion sickness, and researchers from both groups continue to study it. The wide variations and exceptions in both getting seasick and the effectiveness of its cures show there’s still a lot to be learned about this bugaboo of boating.

Specifically, they were bigeye jacks, also called bigeye trevally or Caranx sexfasciatus. When I looked it up, I learned that when not feeding, these fish often congregate in tight schools.

Of the approximate 140 species of jacks (called ulua here), Hawaii hosts 24. Jacks vary in shape according to genus. This body shape variation is my excuse for failing to name even the right family for the mystery fish, but in truth I just wasn’t paying attention. And yes, Craig is gloating.

Hanauma Bay was the first place I ever snorkeled in Hawaii and after 20 years of going there, it’s still showing me a great time. Don’t give up on the place.

2020-07-10T18:50:28+00:00