When the weather is fine, and he is disposed to enjoy it, he partly empties his shell of water, so as to make himself lighter than the surrounding sea, and comes up to the surface, on which he floats like a little ship.
I once had an excellent opportunity of watching one. The sea was beautifully calm, and blue, and the sky perfectly clear, when I caught sight of something white coming upwards at a little distance from the ship. In an instant the delicate white shell popped above the surface, twirled round, and the Sepia spouted out the water remaining in his shell, spread out his two sails, and threw out his six remaining feet, three on each side of the edge of his shell, which acted as oars, and scudded away before the wind. If you had but seen the glad little creature, it would have done your heart good. He seemed full of freedom, and life, and joy. The dark deep caves of ocean, with their corals and sea-weeds, and strange variety of inhabitants; the broad surface of the sea, the fresh breeze, the lovely blue sky, and the glorious light of the sun, were all at his command.
"Thou the light sail boldly spreadest,
O'er the furrowed waters gliding,
Thou nor wreck nor foeman dreadest,
Thou nor help nor comfort needest,
While the sun is bright above thee,
While the bounding surges love thee,
In their deepening bosoms hiding,
Thou canst not fear