We have just returned from a delightful break in the South of France. The weather was a glorious 32 degrees every day and, having two young children, the days were very much a routine of breakfast, beach, lunch, swimming pool and bedtime. Some episodes of Disney's Duck Tales were discretely tucked in amongst the swimming and splashing - I am not sure who enjoyed them more, the kids or me!
We are extremely fortunate that my mother-in-law knows someone with a property near Nice. The location is perfect - panoramic sea views, a swimming pool only one minute away and a little beach at the bottom of the hill. Steps lead down to the picturesque garden, which is full of butterflies and amazing hummingbird moths. There is even a National Trust (French equivalent) walk a few minutes down the road.
My favourite part of the holiday was our daily trip to the beach. My wife is not too keen on swimming in the sea, but I can't get enough of it. If I wasn't in the rock pools with the kids then I would be patrolling the shallows with a snorkel mask and one of the boys clinging to my neck!
On one such expedition I was flipping rocks and seaweed, in an attempt to reveal interesting creatures, and I noticed a small stone that had been carefully placed in a nook. Ordinarily I would have thought no more about it - the stone was far too small to conceal anything interesting and the ridge did not look like it could be particularly deep. The stone sat tightly against the rock, but I was so close that I noticed the tiniest sliver of red, filtering through a minute crack.
I decided to move the stone and take a closer look, expecting to discover a sea anemone or perhaps even a sea cucumber. Instead I was greeted with a huge tentacle that quickly reached for some surrounding pebbles and tried to conceal itself from view. This was extremely exciting - I have seen Octopodes in public aquariums but never in the wild and this was a decent size. I replaced the stone and swam back to shore. Having notified Cat and the boys of my discovery, I seized the net and declared I would try and make the capture of a lifetime!
Snorkel mask in place and green, plastic net in hand, I ventured back into the salty abyss and over to the inconspicuous stone. My eight-legged friend had been decent enough to remain in position and it was now a case of trying to entice him from his lair. There was no option but to gently prod him with the wooden handle of my net and, after about ten minutes of agitation (requiring regular trips back to the surface for air), he decided enough was enough. Tentacles stretched forth like slimy eels and a cloud of ink erupted around me. There was only open water between us and the next pile of rocks and he wanted to tip the odds in his favour with the classic cephalopod distraction technique.
Unluckily for my new friend I am a human being and not a fish! I was prepared for this onyx cloud and, moving my net in a swift arc, managed to capture the beast. Success!
I swam back to shore and staggered onto the nearest rocks, cutting my foot in the process, but desperate to take the prize back to my children. We placed him in a bucket and there was great excitement - not just from my family - as others on the beach crowded round to take a look at the alien from inner space. There were a couple of escape attempts, as multiple arms erupted form the plastic prison but we managed to take several lovely pictures before Todd and I carried the bucket back to the rock pools and watched this amazing animal clamber back into the water.
Octopodes are extremely intelligent animals. In the UK it is illegal to use them in scientific experiments without a government license. They are considered honorary vertebrates and afforded protection not normally extended to animals without backbones. Opening jars, recognising patterns and shapes, even observational learning are all in a days work for laboratory specimens.
This experience was simply amazing. I will never forget the waves lashing me, the repeated dives back into Davy Jones' locker, and ultimately the success! As Todd proudly held the bucket aloft he declared 'no one at school has ever caught an octopus, I can't wait to show our pictures to my friends'. My brother and I spent hours in the rock pools as children but we never came close to a find like this. Magical.
