Octopuses are a diver favourite and with good reasons. With eight arms, a central brain and extensive neural networks in each arm, three hearts and copper-based blue blood, they are weirdly alien. They can change the colour and texture of their skin, squeeze into any opening large enough to accommodate their beak and they are fantastically intelligent. Most of my encounters with octopuses have been off of BC’s south coast, Vancouver Island and the Sunshine Coast, not because those are the only places to find them but because that is where I do most of my diving. Often I won’t see any, but sometimes I’ll find 5, 6 or more in a single dive.
Finding an octopus usually means finding the octopus den. Along the BC coast, these are usually hollows in rocky outcrops and along rocky/muddy bottoms; anywhere the octopus can squeeze into to keep itself protected. A scattering of crab shells outside the den lets you know that an octopus is living there. An octopus in a den is not great for photography, with their ability to contort themselves and squeeze into small spaces you’re likely to see only an eye, a siphon or an arm. Some are shy, some indifferent and some are curious. I have occasionally had an octopus in a den extend an arm toward my hand to investigate, but they are wild animals and I generally let them decide how close they want to get. If you’re lucky, you’ll find one crawling across the bottom hunting for food, rather than tucked away in a den.

A camouflaged octopus makes its way across a rock wall
My two most memorable octopus encounters occurred on Vancouver Island and the Sunshine Coast. Many years ago, as a novice diver, I was diving the artificial reef GB Church when I found the largest giant Pacific octopus I have seen to date. It was enormous. Giant Pacific octopuses can reach an arm span of roughly 13 feet and this animal looked every bit of it. It was incredible. The octopus seemed indifferent to me and I settled down on the muddy bottom to watch it… until it decided that it was more curious than indifferent and a large arm snaked out toward me, then it was time to leave. The other experience occurred much more recently on the Sunshine Coast. My dive buddy and I were diving the mermaid and had moved on to dive the wall north of the sculpture. As we moved along the wall, an octopus jetted past my head and through the water column, attaching itself to my dive buddy. I would later learn that my buddy was initially annoyed when he thought I was tugging on his leg, and then very startled when he found himself face to face with an octopus that was holding on tight. The encounter lasted only seconds before the octopus departed and I was lucky enough to catch it on camera.

A rare octopus encounter - the follow up to Scuba Diver and Octopus Silhouette
Octopuses can be quite difficult to photograph. When they’re not hiding in their dens, they’re usually moving quickly, camouflaging themselves, or both. I was lucky on the day I shot Face of the Pacific Depths. I was set up for macro shots, shooting nudibranchs along the muddy bottom of Maple Bay on Vancouver Island. I saw a small octopus, only about five inches tall, walking along the bottom and moving from kelp leaf to kelp leaf for cover and keeping a watchful eye on me. Because I was already set up to photograph small subjects, I followed it for a few minutes. Eventually it paused between the leaves, possibly contemplating what I was doing, and I was able to take a few shots.

A small GPO keeps a watchful eye on me from behind a kelp leaf

