Salt on the coast is like a slow‑moving tide of tiny rock‑salt crystals that cling to metal and grind away at the engine’s parts, much like the way a crab’s claws chip away at its shell. It speeds up oxidation, turns metal into rust, and eventually makes the engine’s timing gears feel like they’re walking through a sea of sand. Sea creatures have been wrestling with that same corrosive brew for millions of years, so their tricks can teach us a thing or two. For instance, mussels and barnacles secrete a natural “glue” that’s both water‑repellent and anti‑fouling; the secret ingredient is a protein that resists microbial attack, and scientists are turning that into coatings that keep metal smooth and rust‑free. Then there’s the octopus, which constantly sheds its skin. It turns out its epidermis is layered with a mucus that’s highly water‑repellent and full of enzymes that fight bacterial growth. A thin, engineered film that mimics that mucus could keep an engine’s internal parts dry and cleaner for longer. So, the next time you think of a vintage car on the coast, picture the ocean’s quiet engineers. Give it a salt‑resistant coating that’s inspired by mussel adhesive or octopus mucus, and you’ll let the car glide a bit farther than the salt would have thought possible.