Octopus Ahoy!

The section of beach on Puget Sound that my brother and I frequented when growing up experiences about a twelve foot difference between extreme high tide and extreme low tide. We’d always hit the lowest tides, constantly probing in the sand and mud, turning over rocks, looking everywhere for marine invertebrates. We spent considerable time at this during our high-school years, to the extent that by the time we headed off to college (both to become biologists), we had almost as complete a collection of intertidal species as did the marine station of the college we attended. Needless to say, we had a tremendous advantage when we took the course in marine invertebrates.

One summer, probably between my sophomore and junior years in high school, the two of us were at the beach at low tide, as usual. My brother had been diving in water about 20 feet deep, contributing things to our collection that were normally out of our reach. It being warm that day (summer water temperature in Puget Sound is typically in the mid- to upper 50’s), I was paddling around in an inner tube. I was in water about four feet deep over a submerged sand bar, when I looked down and saw a humongous octopus. I immediately called my brother who swam over quickly while I stayed above the slowly moving octopus. Together we jumped on it, caught it, and dragged it to shore.

Some folks in one of the nearby houses had a Polaroid camera (new to the market at the time) and took a picture of us holding the octopus up between us (my brother may still have that photo). The “head” was about even with our faces; the tips of the tentacles barely cleared the ground. We had no way of measuring it accurately, but it was between nine and ten feet from tip to tip, possibly more. Large octopuses actually do exist, especially in the northern Pacific. The record span for this species is about 25 feet with a weight of 400 pounds (larger ones have been reported but not verified). With such a reach, the eight sucker-clad tentacles could really make life interesting for something trying to escape it. Sort of reminds me of the carnival game where you stand in front of a table with a dozen holes, out which a head will momentarily pop up, and you’re supposed to hit it with the padded mallet in your hand.

I picture Satan, in his attacks on us, as a sort of octopus. More slithering tentacles than a human can watch at any one time. That is why we need to trust in the Lord. There is no way you or I can deal with so many attacks. And the idea of suckers on his tentacles is pretty fitting, too. When one of Satan’s tentacles gets hold of one of us, we really need help in getting rid of it.

I am so glad the Lord is there when we need him. Playing with a live octopus may not be harmful (did I mention they can, and often will bite?). Playing with Satan, thinking we are too quick for him, or powerful enough on our own so that we won’t get entrapped is foolish. Diving into the water with him is not something we should ever do. We need to stay on the shore with the Lord.

My brother and I didn’t take this treasure home. It probably wouldn’t have stayed in that galvanized tub of Mom’s.

Dr. G