Entering the Aquarium
Jeremy and I step into the aquarium straight from the pier, the salt still lingering in the air behind us. At the front desk, they’re offering cloth bracelets to raise money for otters and octopuses—which feels like the most correct way to begin a day.
Naturally, we buy one of each.
The aquarium itself is dimly lit, all shadow and glow. At first it feels like we’ve walked into a very polite cave, but I remind myself that the darkness is likely for the creatures’ health. We are, after all, guests in their underwater kingdom. It would be rude to demand fluorescent lighting.
Life on the Edge
We pass through the gift shop (as one does, solemnly promising to return) and enter the first exhibit: Life on the Edge.
There’s an octopus. There are touch pools. And there are moon jellyfish drifting in a looping exhibit that dips into the floor and rises above your head if you stand in the center. It feels like being inside a living lava lamp designed by Poseidon himself.
The octopus exhibit is built to demonstrate how impossibly small of a space they can slip through. It’s both mesmerizing and mildly concerning. The tank shows narrow openings, daring the creature to defy logic—and, of course, it can.
They catch and release the octopus residents, so there’s always a different one on display. I appreciate that. It feels less like captivity and more like a guest appearance.
Caring Cove
The next exhibit, Caring Cove, is darker still—glowing tanks illuminating coral reefs and spotted jellyfish like something out of a deep-sea dream. The lighting makes everything shimmer. The fish seem to hover rather than swim, suspended in their own quiet universe. There’s a small theater room tucked off to the side, but we don’t venture in. We are on a wandering rhythm now, drifting from glow to glow.
Birds
We cross an outdoor walkway to the exhibit simply titled Birds, which feels refreshingly straightforward.
Three landscapes stretch before us: sand, cliffs, and rocky shores. The birds, however, seem to be playing hide-and-seek. We spot only one close enough to properly admire—an oyster catcher perched among the rocks, looking dignified and mildly suspicious of our presence.
Sea Otters
At this point, we begin to wonder about the structure of some the exhibits. Are these animals enclosed, or free to come and go as they please?
We walk through Salmon, Puget Sound Fish, the Underwater Dome, Underwater Mammal Viewing, and Harbor Seal exhibits… and see absolutely nothing. Which, is totally fine, we don't expect animals to put on a show for us, but it did make us wonder about the exhibit structures as previously mentioned.
We then walk into the sea otter area - and there are several there! They are, as always, unbearably adorable. Floating. Rolling. Existing with an ease that suggests they have never once worried about a schedule.
Leaving the Aquarium
The Northern Fur Seals and River Otters exhibits are also empty, and at this point we accept our fate.
We leave with our otter-and-octopus bracelets, charmed by moon jellies and one very respectable oyster catcher.



