01-25-2024, 02:28 PM
This post was last modified 01-25-2024, 02:31 PM by argentus.
Edit Reason: spellin'
When I first moved to the Caribbean, I didn't yet have all my fishing gear, but just a few things. I was told by the locals that the best bait was a cut-up "Sea Cat" -- a small octopus, mostly because it was thought to be so fiberous that the small in-reef fish wouldn't be able to nibble the bait off my hook.
So, I started walking the rocky shore, and found a small octopus in a tidal pool. I approached it slowly with a spear, and it backed away from me, almost exactly the speed I was advancing. I took a step back, and it slowly floated foward. It was as if it understood my effective spear range and wanted to play.
This went on, back and forth for ten minutes, with me moving all around the tidal pool, and the octopus moving in opposition. Finally, I got ready and lunged for it, and it shot a stream of water -- not ink -- out of the tidal pool, which landed on my leg and briefly scared me. I swear, I could almost feel that little shit laughing at me. After that, I decided it was far too intelligent to be used for bait. Months later, when I was hunting lobsters at night, snorkeling with a flashlight in 10 feet of water, I encountered other octopuses. Many were very curious, and would tint red at being approached too quickly, and transition into a blue tone once a rapport had been established.
Even more interesting were the squid, who at night appear to have a sort of movie marquee flash of small lights running around the edge of their fin and mantle, and if I kept my light out of their eyes, and moved slowly, they seemed to enjoy moving very close to my mask, such that we were eye-to-eye, and would remain in that position, until I moved away. I feel a communion of sorts on occasion, although I admit that may have been something that I wanted.
Amazing creatures. FAR more intelligent that we usually give them credit for. I absolutely have loved fried calamari in the past, but after that, I can't eat them again. I would feel like a cannibal.
So, I started walking the rocky shore, and found a small octopus in a tidal pool. I approached it slowly with a spear, and it backed away from me, almost exactly the speed I was advancing. I took a step back, and it slowly floated foward. It was as if it understood my effective spear range and wanted to play.
This went on, back and forth for ten minutes, with me moving all around the tidal pool, and the octopus moving in opposition. Finally, I got ready and lunged for it, and it shot a stream of water -- not ink -- out of the tidal pool, which landed on my leg and briefly scared me. I swear, I could almost feel that little shit laughing at me. After that, I decided it was far too intelligent to be used for bait. Months later, when I was hunting lobsters at night, snorkeling with a flashlight in 10 feet of water, I encountered other octopuses. Many were very curious, and would tint red at being approached too quickly, and transition into a blue tone once a rapport had been established.
Even more interesting were the squid, who at night appear to have a sort of movie marquee flash of small lights running around the edge of their fin and mantle, and if I kept my light out of their eyes, and moved slowly, they seemed to enjoy moving very close to my mask, such that we were eye-to-eye, and would remain in that position, until I moved away. I feel a communion of sorts on occasion, although I admit that may have been something that I wanted.
Amazing creatures. FAR more intelligent that we usually give them credit for. I absolutely have loved fried calamari in the past, but after that, I can't eat them again. I would feel like a cannibal.
