Giant Pacific Octopus

Hello! I am a Giant Pacific Octopus. My story began long before 2020, not in a grand way, but as a tiny, translucent egg, no bigger than a grain of rice. I was one of tens of thousands, hanging in delicate strings from the ceiling of my mother’s den in the cool, green waters of the North Pacific Ocean, including Puget Sound. My mother was the most dedicated guardian, but I never truly knew her. Soon after I hatched, I was on my own, a tiny speck drifting in the vast North Pacific. My first challenge was simple but immense: survive. I had to learn to find my own food and grow, but most importantly, I had to avoid becoming someone else’s meal in the busy, predator-filled ocean.

Growing up was a whirlwind of discovery, and I had a secret weapon for learning: nine brains. I have one central brain to make big decisions, and each of my eight arms has its own smaller brain. This meant I could solve a puzzle, like how to open a clam, with one arm while another was busy tasting a potential snack passing by. By 2021, my unique mind and body had made me an expert hunter. I could use my powerful, bird-like beak to crack open the tough shells of my favorite foods, Dungeness crabs and juicy clams. My body, soft and completely boneless, allowed me to pour myself through the tiniest cracks in the rocks to hide from danger or to follow my prey into their hiding spots. I spent my days exploring, learning the intricate map of my underwater neighborhood.

My world is full of dangers, from hungry harbor seals to lurking sharks. My greatest defense isn't my strength, but my cleverness and ability to disappear. My skin is like a magical canvas, covered in millions of tiny pigment sacs called chromatophores. In less than a second, I can change my color and even my texture to perfectly match a mossy rock or the sandy seafloor. In the blink of an eye, I can become invisible. If that fails to trick a predator, I have another strategy ready. I can shoot a cloud of dark, sticky ink to confuse my attacker, giving me just enough time to use my siphon for jet propulsion and speed away into the safety of the dense kelp forest.

By 2023, I was fully grown and a true giant of the reef, with an arm span typically ranging from 9.75 to 16 feet, with rare individuals reaching up to 30 feet. We Giant Pacific Octopuses are mostly solitary creatures, and I spent much of my time alone. I found a perfect den, a rocky cave with a small entrance that I could block with stones for protection. While I prefer my own company, I am incredibly curious. Sometimes, strange, bubbly creatures—human divers—would visit my world. I would watch them from the safety of my den, my large, intelligent eyes taking in every detail of their equipment and movements. It’s amazing to think that while I was living my life here, my species, Enteroctopus dofleini, was first formally described to the scientific world way back in 1910 by a zoologist named Gerhard Wülker. We have been a source of wonder for a very long time.

The final chapter of my life is the most important one. It is the reason for everything I have learned and survived. After a brief courtship, I laid my own precious eggs—tens of thousands of them. I carefully attached them in long strings to the roof of my den, where they would be safe from predators. For the next six months, I will not leave them. I will not hunt or eat. My entire being is now focused on guarding this next generation. I gently push currents of fresh, oxygen-rich water over them with my siphon and carefully clean them with my arms. This is my single, vital purpose: to ensure that a new wave of curious, intelligent octopuses will have their chance to explore the ocean.

My life, like all of my kind, is a short and beautiful journey, usually lasting only three to five years. But my story doesn't truly end. It continues in the countless tiny lives I've brought into the world. We are more than just creatures of the deep; we contribute to controlling shellfish populations by preying on species such as crabs and clams. We are a symbol of the ocean's incredible intelligence and mystery. When humans look into our eyes, they see a mind at work, and it reminds them that the sea is not just empty water, but a world filled with complex, thinking beings who deserve respect and protection. My legacy is in every tide pool, every kelp forest, and every person who looks at the ocean with a little more wonder.