Collection: Aquatic Affair

A living fossil that has spiraled through the world’s oceans for over 500 million years, its chambers filling with gas to control its depth like a submarine.

Nine brains, three hearts, and blue blood - the largest octopus species on Earth, able to squeeze through any opening larger than its beak.

Painted in improbable color and fiercely protective of its nest - even divers have learned to keep a respectful distance.

A master of disguise, shifting between a dozen color patterns in seconds to blend into coral, sand, or mood.

Built like a torpedo and armed with a spear-like bill, among the fastest and most powerful swimmers in the open ocean.

Encased in a boxy shell of fused hexagonal plates - more suit of armor than fish.

Named "strong-strong" in Hawaiian, mahi mahi grow fast, up to 7 feet and 88 pounds.

Its brilliant blue spots warn of a venomous tail spine, but this ray would rather bury itself in the sand than ever use it.

Its shell turns red only once cooked - in the wild it stays a deep blue-green, and can live for over a century, growing larger with every molt.

Also called the opah, it’s one of the only fully warm-blooded fish known, flapping its fins to keep its heart and brain warmer than the icy depths around it.

Nearly invisible against the seafloor, its translucent, sand-flecked shell shifts color over hours to match the ground beneath it, only revealing itself as it burrows away at low tide.

Coated in a protective mucus that makes it immune to a sea anemone’s sting, it spends its entire life within a few feet of the same anemone it hatched near.

Covered in black spots like a wetsuit-clad Dalmatian, with an unusually small head and steep forehead that give it an almost cartoonish profile.

Striped as a pup and spotted as an adult, it spends its days resting motionless on the seafloor, using suction instead of speed to hunt buried mollusks and crustaceans.

A nocturnal ambush hunter that breathes by opening and closing its mouth to pump water over its gills - a menacing look that has nothing to do with aggression.

Polka-dotted like storybook clownwear, it can shift rocks twice its own size to unearth the sea urchins and mollusks hiding beneath.

Fanned with venomous spines and no natural predators outside its native Indo-Pacific, it has become one of the ocean’s most successful - and unwelcome - invaders.

Also called the Seven-Eleven Crab for the eleven dark spots scattered across its shell, it carries a toxin potent enough to make it dangerous to eat.