The Curious One

Introduction

Octopuses are known for their intelligence, problem-solving skills, and solitary nature. While many live short, hidden lives, some individuals observed in marine research labs or aquariums stand out for their curiosity and unique behavior.

This is the story of Inky, a real-life octopus housed at the National Aquarium of New Zealand, whose actions not only surprised staff but also changed the way humans view the emotional range and individuality of cephalopods—and how acceptance of differences can lead to deeper understanding.

Chapter 1: Not Your Typical Octopus

Octopuses are usually solitary and highly territorial. They prefer hiding in dens, exploring under the cover of darkness, and avoiding unnecessary contact. They’re also escape artists—able to slip through any space larger than their beak.

Inky arrived at the aquarium after being rescued from a crayfish pot in the wild. He had several injuries and needed rehabilitation.

At first, he acted like a typical octopus: hiding, camouflaging, eating quietly.

But after recovering, Inky began showing behavior that deviated from the norm.

Chapter 2: A Different Kind of Mind

Instead of staying in one area, Inky began actively interacting with his environment. He opened jars, manipulated latches, and explored his tank thoroughly. But more importantly, he sought contact with people.

Staff noticed he would change color and texture as different people approached, often becoming lighter (a relaxed state). He played with objects for long periods and even followed movements outside the tank, watching people as they walked by.

Most octopuses avoid attention. Inky seemed to crave it.

While other octopuses might become stressed from frequent human interaction, Inky remained calm—even curious.

Instead of confining him or changing him to fit aquarium expectations, the staff accepted that he was different.

Chapter 3: Inky’s Great Escape

In 2016, Inky made headlines around the world after he escaped from his enclosure. Overnight, he slid the lid off his tank, slithered across the floor, and disappeared down a floor drain that led directly to the sea.

It wasn’t a panic-driven escape—it was a deliberate and methodical exploration.

Cameras confirmed he wasn’t running from a threat; he was simply acting on his instinct to roam. As a nocturnal, intelligent animal, Inky had found a way to return to the ocean on his own terms.

The staff was not angry.

They weren’t disappointed.

They were proud.

Chapter 4: Acceptance in Research and Care

Inky's story changed how marine biologists talked about individual animal personalities. Traditionally, cephalopods were not considered to have lasting behavioral traits. But Inky’s actions—his preferences, choices, and social tendencies—challenged that idea.

Today, more aquariums provide enrichment and choice to their cephalopods. Some even allow them to pick their own dens, interact with objects, or indicate which food they prefer.

Inky became a symbol—not just of cleverness, but of how accepting an animal’s individuality can lead to better care, deeper insights, and a more ethical relationship between humans and other species.

Conclusion: Personality in the Deep

Not every animal fits neatly into scientific expectations. Inky the octopus reminded the world that being different doesn’t mean being defective—it means there’s more to learn, if we’re willing to listen.

In a field that once saw animals in terms of instinct and survival only, stories like Inky’s push the boundary of what we understand as intelligence, emotion, and social behavior.

Through acceptance, we don’t just learn more about animals—we become better caretakers, researchers, and companions.