Find the Fish cover. Book is softcover 8.5″ wide x 11″ high (21.5 cm x 28 cm) with saddle-stitch binding (two staples).
It’s “Find the Fish” – an eye-spy style book. It’s the “Where’s Waldo” of the marine world aimed at increasing awareness of the life in the NE Pacific Ocean.
In addition to being fun, the book is intended to add to the knowledge of just how diverse and colourful life is in these cold, dark waters. Text provides background on the images and invites children to look for other species as well as the featured fish.
It is soft-cover and features eleven searches for fish. Each search is spread across two pages to be 17″ by 11″ (43 cm x 28 cm). Answer pages are included showing the location of the fish with additional labeling of other species. Please see example pages below.
All photos and text are by yours truly with illustrations of the featured fish generously provided by Andy Lamb of Coastal Fishes of the Pacific Northwest. Fish ID help was also provided by Gregory Jensen of Mola Marine.
Find the Fish is aimed at children ages 5 to 10 and the adults who love them!
Those who are as in awe of the species as I am, describe it as “adorably bizarre” (Dr. Milton Love) and as “true survivors from before the dinosaurs . . . no wonder they look like they’re from another world.” (Ray Troll, source 5).
Maybe not as flattering a description, but certainly accurate is: “They look like you put three or four things in a blender” (unnamed scientist, source 5).
Indeed, this family of fishes is aptly named the “Chimeras” for the creature from Greek mythology that is a composite of other species.
The common name of this fish is the “Spotted Ratfish” favouring the perceived likeness to that rodent. The scientific name “Hydrolagus collieli” favours the rabbit-like resemblance with “Hydrolagus” translating into “water rabbit”.
For me, it is an exquisitely beautiful species and a source of marvel. Notice the wing-like pectoral fins; huge eyes that seem to be able to pivot back and forth in their sockets; scaleless, white-spotted skin with a silvery sheen; and the beautiful gold “stitching” that make it look all the more like it has been assembled from other parts. Oh and then there are the remarkable structures in the males! Read on for an explanation of what they’re all about.
Likely Spotted Ratfish are well known to many fisher-folk in their range from the western gulf of Alaska to southern Baja California but, as a fish out of water, I think it is so difficult to see the species’ beauty. We divers are so lucky to see them below the surface and I’m hoping the photos and information below enhance an appreciation for this fish that should never, ever be referenced as “ugly”! 🙂
Are they sharks? The Chimeras are closely related to rays, skates and sharks. They are all cartilaginous fishes (Chondrichthyes) but sharks and rays belong to the subclass “Elasmobranchii” and the Chimaeras are in a separate subclass, the “Holocephali”. They diverged from their shark ancestors some 400 million years ago.
Senses: Like rays, skates and sharks, they have pores in their heads with which they can detect the electrical fields of their prey – even tiny heartbeats under the sand (source 5). Their huge eyes suggest that Spotted Ratfish are more active at night. Even though Spotted Ratfishes are often in the shallows, my personal observations support that their eyes are designed to function in low light. I will never forget my excitement at seeing one for the first time and, without thinking, turning my dive light on the poor guy. The result appeared to be that I temporarily blinded him. He swam forward – directly into a rock. Eek!
Diet: Ratfish have plate-like grinding teeth and they are reported “to have the highest jaw leverage of any cartilaginous species studied” (source 3). This makes them well-suited to be able to crush the hard bits of fish, crabs including hermit crabs, shrimp, snails, sea urchins, worms, bivalves like clams, and isopods (source 9).
Defences: In addition to their biting strength, Spotted Ratfish have a retractable spine with a venom gland. See it there in front of the dorsal fin? This causes some discomfort in humans but, one study revealed that it can be fatal to Pacific Harbour Seals by perforating the esophagus or stomach and migrating into vital tissues. The spines have also been found in the heads and necks of a few California and Steller Sea Lions but have not been proven to be the cause of death (source 1). In addition to seals and sea lions; Spotted Ratfishes’ predators include Sablefish; shark species like the Bluntnose Sixgill and Spiny Dogfish; birds like Buffleheads, Common Murres and Pigeon Gullemots; Humboldt Squid and, apparently, Northern Elephant Seals eat their eggs (source 9). We humans only went after Spotted Ratfish for their livers in the 1800s. We don’t like the taste of their flesh – lucky Ratfish.
Mobility: In having such a thin, whip-like tail that can’t provide much force, propulsion in Ratfish comes from their wing-like pectoral fins. It is such a thing of beauty to see them swim, or is it fly? Like rays, skates and sharks, they have large livers that aid buoyancy whereby they can hover in the water column and then glide off.
Female bits: Like many rays, sharks and skates, chimeras are “oviparous”. Fertilization is internal and then egg cases are laid. The leathery egg cases look like “little violin cases” (source 2) and each contain one egg. As seen in Wendy Carey’s remarkable photo below, they female “extrudes’ two egg cases at a time – one from each oviduct. Reportedly, they often hang from her in the water column for four to six days before falling to the ocean bottom. Then, she lays another pair (this suggests female Ratfish may be able to store sperm). The baby Ratfish develop within the egg case for 5 to 10 months and then wiggle out when they are around 14 cm. It appears to me that they spawn throughout the year but there may be a peak from May into October (source 9). Little is known about the longevity of Ratfish but preliminary research suggests that they are likely late maturing with females becoming sexually mature at age ~14 and males at age ~12 (source 7). See this link for my blog with photos of other NE Pacific Ocean fish egg cases known as “mermaid’s purses”.
The claspers in the pelvic area you may know from shark species. They are the males’ sex organs containing sperm and they are used only one at a time to inseminate the female.
The remarkable stalked club structure with little hooks on the male’s head is the “frontal tenaculum” and it is unique to adult males in the Chimera family. It is usually withdrawn into the groove in their foreheads but, during copulation, is used to clamp onto the female’s pectoral fin. There is also another grasping structure, the pre-pelvic tenaculum, just before the pelvic fins that also allow the male to anchor into position.
In sharks, males bite onto the female’s pelvic fin to get into position but I suggest, with Chimera’s very different teeth, this would not work well and thereby, that there was a selection pressure for such unique structures. It is noteworthy too that male Chimeras have to be much smaller than females because otherwise, with their heads attached onto the pectoral fin, they wouldn’t be able to position a clasper into the female (source 8).
Ray Troll (colourful always) describes the frontal tenaculum as a “girl grabber” but don’t let that suggest that there isn’t courtship between Ratfish. Apparently, there are colour changes and distinct swimming patterns and, once the male’s clasper is inserted in the female, they swim together like this for between 37 and 120 minutes (source 9).
I assure you, if I manage to witness Spotted Ratfish courtship or mating, there WILL be an update to this blog!
Deep sea ROV video of what may be the species Pointy-Nose Blue Ratfish (Hydrolagus trolli) in the NE Pacific. Good general information on ratfishes in general and would mean a very significant range expansion for this species.
It is one of the most remarkable encounters I have witnessed in all my dives.
It’s a fortunate enough thing to be able to watch a large Giant Pacific Octopus when it is hunting. In this encounter, the octopus passes directly over a mature male Wolf Eel in his den. THEN, a Decorator Warbonnet emerges as well.
It was an exciting day in this wonderful marine neighbourhood.
I hope this 3-minute clip allows you to share in the awe and excitement.
For me, this was the NE Pacific Ocean equivalent of seeing a giraffe, elephant and rhino in close proximity.
Video and photos contributed by dive buddies Katie Morgan and Diane Reid while on our trip with God’s Pocket Dive Resort.
For more information on Wolf Eels (including that they are not an eel at all), see my previous blog here.
For more information on Giant Pacific Octopuses, click here for previous blogs and here for a blog specifically on hunting in Giant Pacific Octopus.
There’s a whole lotta fish procreation going on in the NE Pacific Ocean right now. This might be a surprise to those who think mating is more of a spring-fling-kinda-thing.
It may be a further surprise that, for many marine fish species here, the males are the protectors of the next generation. The females leave after laying the eggs and the males remain, guarding the fertilized eggs from predators and often also fanning the eggs to ensure they are well aerated.
For a lot of these fish species, the male chooses the nesting site and entices multiple females to lay eggs there so that he can fertilize them. He then has the work of guarding these multiple egg masses and may need to be on the alert for sneak fertilization attempts by other males.
For species with nests of multiple egg masses, you can often tell how many females have laid eggs there because individual females have different coloured eggs. Therefore, the colour of fish eggs is not a good characteristic to determine the species that laid them. Instead, do a quick scan, chances are a piscine papa is somewhere near the eggs, staring at you.
Through the photos below, meet some of these fabulous fish fathers. No deadbeat dads here!
[Note that this is in no way a comprehensive list of NE Pacific Ocean fish species in which the males guard the eggs.]
Whitespotted Greenling
The encounter documented below shows how my dive buddy and I recently had a whitespotted greenling come after us, so intent was he on protecting his egg masses. I was very slow in cluing in that this was why he was swimming around us and deserved getting a little nip in the head. Notice how small he is relative to us and yet how this did not deter him in trying to get rid of us.
My observations of egg guarding on NE Vancouver Island: September to December
Kelp Greenling
Most often Kelp Greenling eggs are in the empty shells of giant barnacles as shown below. Although they are a bigger member of the Greenling family, male Kelp Greenlings do not appear to protect their eggs quite as vigorously as Whitespotted Greenlings. They appear to have a really long breeding season in our area.
My observations of egg guarding on NE Vancouver Island: October to March
Below, slideshow of courting
Red Irish Lord
Oh Red Irish Lords how I love thee. There is no better ambassador for how colourful life is in these waters since they are brilliant shades, yet astoundingly camouflaged. Red Irish Lords are often easier to find when guarding their eggs since these are less camouflaged. They most often egg guard with their heads positioned right atop the eggs, remaining absolutely motionless. It is commonly believed that the fathers guard the eggs but apparently it is more often the mothers but that the parents may take turns. Source: DeMartini and Sikkel 2006: ” Red Irish Lord exhibits primarily maternal and facultatively biparental guarding of the spawn.”
There are Buffalo Sculpin males guarding eggs at this time of year too but more mating appears to be happen in April and May. Usually, Buffalo Sculpins are even harder to spot than their Red Irish Lord cousins but the variably coloured, bright egg masses give away their location. They too have a strategy of staying right atop the eggs and remaining motionless when faced with annoying human divers.
Soon we will be participating in the Vancouver Aquarium’s annual Lingcod Egg Mass Count. Armed with an underwater slate, we will join divers along the Coast in helping determine the health of lingcod populations by looking at the number and size of the egg masses and if they are being guarded by males. And oh what fastidious fathers lingcod males are! The dedication to protecting the egg masses does vary from male to male but, generally, they do not leave their watch until the eggs hatch which can be more than 24 days. They could be guarding masses from multiple females separated by more than 7 m, and if laid by a female 5 years old and older, the egg masses can be the size of a watermelon and weigh up to 14 kg! That’s a lot to protect! (As is also the case for many rockfish, the older the female lingcod, the more eggs she lays). My best lingcod story is that I was marking down “unguarded” on my slate only to have it knocked out of my hands by the male that was very much guarding the egg mass I had been observing! Lots more info on this species at my blog item Lingcod – Fastidious Fanged Fathers.
My observations of egg guarding on NE Vancouver Island: January to April (Vancouver Aquarium’s Egg Mass Survey is from early February to the beginning of April).
Here’s a case where it is not just the male that guards the eggs. Mr. and Mrs. Wolf Eel take turns wrapping their long tails around the large egg mass. I hope to one day have the opportunity to get a better image than this but, as a strategy for survival, the egg mass is often deep within the wolf eel couple’s den. Lots more information on this remarkable species at my previous blog item Wolf Eel – No Ugly Fish!
I’ve only once been lucky enough to find a male of this huge sculpin species guarding eggs. They can apparently be very aggressive guarders but this very successful male (he was guarding the eggs of several females) was very tolerant of my presence. They have been documented to mate throughout the year. My one encounter with a male cabezon guarding eggs was in May.
In all these years of diving, I have yet to find a male Painted Greening guarding eggs so that I know for sure the eggs are from this species. Yet something else to be on the lookout for!
And, the stuff of dreams . . . to one day chance upon a male grunt sculpin while he is releasing the hatching eggs from . . . his mouth! For more on that, see my previous blog item Grunt Sculpin – Little Fish, BIG Attitude. The females apparently also do take on shifts in taking care of the eggs.
You need not be a diver to see the eggs of the following two species.
While carefully lifting up rocks in the intertidal during the Spring, you might
come across these egg masses and possibly even the male guarding them.
Scalyhead Sculpin
I have never seen scalyhead sculpin eggs while diving, likely because they are hidden away and because they are much smaller. The image of the eggs below was taken during a beach walk where students ensured they put the rock back as best they could to reduce the chances of the eggs drying out. Notice the different colours of the looney-sized egg masses? The eggs in this nest are from at least 4 females.
Very interesting in this species is that fertilization is internal.
My observations of egg guarding on NE Vancouver Island: Spring.
One study showed that the eggs hatched after 11 and 15 days. This study also documented courtship where the males rolled their heads in a circle and flared their orange branchiostegal membranes (on the underside of their throat) which apparently are only orange during mating season. Females were seen to have no response or to snap their heads horizontally in rapid succession, sometimes also quivering. During breeding season the males are also reported to have red-brown spots inside their mouth and a brown anal fin with small yellowish-white spots. (Source: Ragland, H., & Fischer, E. (1987). Internal Fertilization and Male Parental Care in the Scalyhead Sculpin, Artedius harringtoni.Copeia,1987(4), 1059-1062. doi:10.2307/1445578)
If you find an ice cream scoop mound like this, you have likely found the eggs of the black prickleback and the guarding male is likely very near. When taking students on beach walks, I emphasize the importance of not displacing animals by using this species as an example. Fish like the black prickleback are adapted to being able to wait out the tide in very little water and if the well-intentioned pick up the fish to put him in deeper water, they could be moving papa away from the eggs he was guarding.
Dear readers, the following is a rework of a little rhyme I wrote in 2009.
Many of you will recall that 2009 was such a bad year for wild salmon in British Columbia that it led to the $26 million Cohen Inquiry into the Decline of the Fraser River Sockeye.
The attempted messaging in my little poem may be all the more relevant now with the threat of tanker traffic coming to our fragile Coast.
The good news, I believe, is that with such threats more and more of us are united in understanding that, while resource use is a necessity, it has to be sustainable. It is impossible to have infinite economic growth on a finite planet.
With sincere apologies to Dr. Seuss:
A world without salmon would be oh so sad, This is very important, so listen here Dad!
Without salmon, we will have broken the link, That Nature intended to keep us in the Pink. (And Sockeye, and Chum, and Chinook and Coho!)
Salmon bring the wealth of the ocean back to the Coast, Right back to their birthplace so without them – we’re toast!
Their bodies are gifts to the future – that’s really key, Delivering food for their babies and even the trees.
They feed fish-eating orca, sea lion and eagle, Wolf, seal, deer, shark and . . . an occasional beagle!
They help bring the tourists. They fill fishers’ nets. There ought to be enough so that all needs are met.
So little investment, so great the return. Safe passage, and food – this, salmon surely earn?
But, instead of precaution, loud voices at desks, Say, “Why it’s Nature that’s made this big mess.”
“It’s salinity, cycles . . . the phase of the moon! Or some other reason we’ll think up real soon.”
What possible gain would justify such a gamble? The cost of losing wild salmon would be so substantial.
Without salmon, grizzles stare into empty rivers, No fat salmon to save them from winter shivers.
The orca diminish without their Chinook, Peanut-shaped foreheads reveal this tragic truth.
And Bobby and Susie and even Aunt Myrtle, Are left holding fishing poles, till they turn purple.
Shhhh can you hear that? No, I don’t hear a thing, For without salmon, birds around rivers don’t sing.
The People of the Salmon were able to thrive. Dance, song, carvings . . . the wisdom to know what keeps us alive.
Salmon are the glue in a vastly connected web, Why without them big trees would even be dead.
Then, there goes habitat, oxygen production and buffering of greenhouse gas. Why to flirt with the health of salmon you would really have to be an . . . . (you know).
The survival of salmon shows how we humans are doing. Do we know our place on the planet? No. Nature is booing!
The solution is simple. It really isn’t hard. It’s not tree hugger verses resource user. Let down your guard!
Logger, storekeeper, teacher, and you under that streetlight! We keepers of paradise need to unite in what’s right.
Make a stand for the salmon, the whales, wolves and Coast. We all know clean water and food is what matters most.
Choose for sustainability, not short-term economic gain. Otherwise explaining things to our children could really be a pain.
Use vote, vision and voice, to help wild things grow. And when it comes to gambling with salmon – just say “No!”
Then, because a whole lot of us care a whole awful lot, It will be clear that BC’s natural splendour can’t be bought.
Since writing this blog, I have been asked “Salmon feed trees?”. Indeed, when they spawn in their natal rivers which can be more than a 1,000 km from the sea, salmon bring the richness of the ocean not only to animals but to plants. The nutrients from their bodies feed the trees and plants including . . . salmon berry! Animals like bears further the reach of salmon nutrients by taking spawned-out salmon from the rivers deeper into the forest where they can feed undisturbed. They eat their favourite bits and leave about 50% of the carcass in the forest which benefits the plants, song birds, and even animals like pine martens. Of course, bears also poop in the woods, which leaves more salmon nutrients in the forest. So the bears are like gardeners, bringing fertilizer much deeper into the forest!
It was initially Tom Reimchen’s research of the early 1990s that brought the knowledge of “Salmon Forests” to the world. He quantified how much salmon was in the trees by measuring the amount of “marine derived nitrogen”. That research has expanded to where nitrogen and carbon isotopes are measured to quantify the uptake of salmon-derived nutrients by mosses, herbs, shrubs, trees, insects, songbirds, and wolves. So while salmon don’t grow on trees . . . trees most definitely grow on salmon.
This knowledge solved the mystery of how you can have giant trees in a rain forest when nutrients get washed away by the rain. It’s the salmon who replenish the nutrients by delivering the richness of the sea through their spawning behaviour – just the way Nature intended. And of course, without those giant trees – imagine the reduced habitat and production of oxygen and buffering of carbon dioxide.
This makes clear how far reaching the role of salmon is; how interconnected the web of life is, and just how much depends on the health of wild salmon. No better man to fully explain this “exquisite interconnectedness” than Dr. David Suzuki. See the 5 minute clip below. There is also a David Suzuki children’s book called “Salmon Forest.”
I have also been asked, “Deer eat salmon?!” They do. They feed directly on the spawned out carcasses of salmon and also benefit indirectly by feeding on the vegetation that has been fed by salmon.
Don’t say it, please don’t say it. This is not an ugly fish. It hurts when people say this about Wolf-Eels. Such is the way when there is misunderstanding and disrespect for something you love. There is no ugly in Nature – only perfection. If the features of an animal appear foreign to you, it is because it fulfils a role in Nature that is truly awe-inspiring; possibly even beyond your imaginings.
I hope to make this point by sharing with you why the Wolf-Eel is “designed” as it is and how very wrong many of us are in our perceptions about this species. The Wolf-Eel (Anarrhichthys ocellatus), which can be as long as 2.4 m, is not an eel. Wolf-Eels belong in the Wolf Fish family (Anarhichadidae). They are desperately misunderstood. Wolf-Eels are not dangerous nor “mean”. The opposite is true. They are reclusive, anything but ferocious, quite sedentary and slow moving.
Yes, they have large, fleshy, ossified heads and the species has sharp teeth but this is so they can do what so few marine species can – they can feed on spiny sea urchins, snapping them effortlessly into pieces without suffering a single puncture. They also feed on other hard-shelled animals like shellfish and crabs. Even the roofs of Wolf-Eels’ mouths are impenetrable with ossified, tooth-like projections (see photo below).
To my knowledge there has never been an attack on a diver UNLESS, and here comes the predictable thing, we choose to habituate them. Wolf-Eels spend a great deal of time on the ocean bottom in dens where, as divers, we have the enormous privilege of “visiting” the same spot and seeing the same individuals for years. It is not just their address that makes them recognizable as individuals. Each Wolf-Eel has a unique pattern of black spots near their eyes.
Some divers choose to feed them, leading to the Wolf-Eels associating us with food and that’s where accidents can happen and where the wild behaviour that lets animals survive, becomes compromised. It also makes them tragically easy targets for any spear diver wanting to poach them. There is no legal fishery for this species but there is a demand for them in the Asian market which is why there are also attempts to farm Wolf-Eels i.e. aquaculture. Not surprisingly, Wolf-Eels might also be defensive when accidentally caught by anglers. I found one account from 1959 where a commercial fisherman was bitten and “The teeth penetrated the hip-waders and broke the skin on both sides of the ankle.”
The mature males do carry battle wounds supporting that they don’t just hang out in dens waiting for a snack to come by, but rather that they will occasionally duke it out with other male Wolf-Eels.It was long thought that Wolf-Eels always mate for life but, this is not always the case. The males do compete for females who will sometimes opt to swap dens and go live with the competitor. Sound like any other species you know? Wonder if it happens at mid-life? 😉
Wolf-Eels have long-lasting pair bonds, coming together when they are around 4-years-old and having their first clutch when they are around 7. In aquariums, their life expectancy is known to be at least 28 years. Both male and female juveniles are brownish orange and look even more eel-like, lacking the big head of the adults. As adults, the females are smaller and a darker brownish grey (both remarkably camouflaged for when they are in their rocky dens).
They do also sometimes need to do battle for den space with a Giant Pacific Octopus. This is likely another driver for the male’s having such fleshy heads – they are better able to survive the wounds inflicted by such battles.
Clearly, another unique feature about this species is their eel-like body. They are the only member of their family that have this body shape. The long tail serves in locomotion, powering them forward with big, slow, s-shaped waves while being stabilized with the long dorsal and pectoral fins (see video below). Having a long tail also allows them to den-up, curling up and around in narrow spaces between rocks and . . . wait for it . . . it lets them hold onto their eggs.
Mating apparently most often occurs between October and December, with the female releasing eggs after the male prods against her swollen abdomen. He then wraps around her to fertilize the 7,000 to 10,000 white to yellow eggs that she will mould into a ball shape. This mass does not need to adhere to anything because the parents will take turns wrapping their tails around the mass, holding and turning it for good aeration until the +/- 3.5 cm young hatch some 13 to 16 weeks after fertilization.
The juveniles settle into the adult sedentary lifestyle between the ages of 6 months and 2 years (presumably dependent on food supply and den availability). One juvenile is even known to have travelled a minimum of 1,000 km; having been tagged in Port Hardy, BC and found back in Willapa Bay, Washington two years later. It was long thought that Wolf-Eels always mate for life but, this is not always the case. The males do compete for females who will sometimes opt to swap dens and go live with the competitor. Sound like any other species you know? Wonder if it happens at mid-life?
The Wolf-Eel is indeed akin to us in so many ways. It is a homebody that likes crunchy snacks and prefers that they come right by the front door; they are great parents and are docile unless fighting for home or partner. They invest in durable relationships and – they are only as strange looking as we terrestrial bipeds would appear to them.
And if all of that is not enough for you, see the photo below for the indisputable reasoning for by Wolf-Eels are NOT ugly fish!
Statler the Muppet is cute and loveable. Ergo – so are Wolf-Eels. Case closed!!
Range: Sub-tidal to 226 m; Baja California (Mexico) to the Aleutian Islands (Alaska); west to Russia and south to the Sea of Japan.
Meet the fish that so often has people exclaiming “It lives HERE?!”
Yep, the tiny Grunt Sculpin is a powerful ambassador for raising awareness about the depth of biodiversity hidden in the cold, dark, rich waters of the north east Pacific.
We are programmed to associate warm waters with exotic-looking fish species but read below for the Grunt Sculpin’s astounding adaptations and masterful mimicry.
Grunt Sculpin. Tiny fish. Giant attitude. ESPECIALLY the females. Photo: Hildering.
The species reaches only a maximum of 9 cm.
It is adapted to look like a Giant Acorn Barnacle (Balanus nubilis)! When facing outward, its pointy nose looks like a closed Giant Acorn Barnacle and when the fish turns around, its tail looks like the foot of the barnacle that rakes in plankton.
Adapted to look like a giant barnacle! Huge thanks to dive buddy Natasha Dickinson for finding this one. Photo: Hildering.
This little fish has giant attitude. When not hidden away in a barnacle (or a cup, see photo), it can be highly territorial, hopping around on its pectoral fins in a strutting, jerky fashion. A lot of literature reports that the Grunt Sculpin is an “awkward swimmer” but I solidly disagree. I once saw one flash away with lightning speed back to its hiding place. Yes, I was being an annoying photographer.
If you can’t find an empty barnacle shell. A cup will apparently do! Photo: Hildering
Ah and you probably think the males are the master strutters? Ha! The female is as fierce as can be. She will aggressively chase a male into a crack, an empty barnacle shell, or other place of no escape and guard him there until she is ready to lay her eggs. When she has laid them, the male is released to do his duty.
She watches him to ensure he fertilizes the eggs (up to 150 at a time) and then, according to some sources – she saunters off but may return once in a while to take on a shift. For many members of the sculpin family, the males are the sole egg guarders. However, there are also reputable sources that report that the female Grunt Sculpin guards the nest of eggs.
Very young Grunt Sculpin. The red-gilled nudibranch in the upper part of the image is only about 2 cm long. Another great find by dive buddy Natasha Dickinson. Photo: Hildering.
It may even get to be more remarkable, one source relays that when the eggs are near hatching, the guarding Grunt Sculpin takes them into their mouth and spits them out into the open water. The suggestion is that this causes the eggs to hatch and the little zooplankton are sent on their way. (Source: Aquarium of the Pacific).
The Grunt Sculpin’s pointy “bill-like” head is reflected in the species’ scientific name. Photo: Hildering
With regards to classification, the scientific name Rhamphocottus richardsonii reflects the Greek word for beak “rhamphos” which is appropriate for the Grunt Sculpin’s bill-like snout. This makes some people think that the species looks like a seahorse but note that they are not closely related at all. The Grunt Sculpin is the only member of its genus. It is truly one of a kind.
Oh, and are you wondering about the name “Grunt” Sculpin? Apparently the species grunts when it is taken out of the ocean. You would too! Likely it also grunts when being defensive underwater. It is also the sound I make in my delight when I find one. It will be a very loud grunt indeed if I ever find one guarding eggs or with its tail-end extended out of a barnacle.
Another very fortunate find of a Grunt Sculpin in a empty barnacle shell. Photo: Hildering
Grunt Sculpin in a empty barnacle shell. Photo: Hildering
No, I have not mixed up my spelling of “soul” verses “sole”.
This last weekend, while watching herring feed on krill in a tide line, I suddenly noticed a very small transparent fish.
Upon closer inspection, I saw that it was a larval form of some species of flatfish.
I was able to dip the little guy / gal into my dive mask for a few pictures and, due to the size of the lettering in the mask, I know that the fish was only 2.7 cm.
Planktonic Sand Sole. Only 2.7 cm. Photo: Jackie Hildering
I was in awe of how transparent s/he was; that I could see the bones and heart; and that this small, fragile planktonic stage could ever survive to grow into an adult.
These sorts of “finds” are as awe-inspiring to me as any sighting of a whale. The thick planktonic soup of our rich cold oceans is full of the larvae of so many species. Anemones, nudibranchs, sea stars, crabs, etc. – they all start off as zooplankton and the incidence of what sort of plankton are present often gives scientists an indication of what may be happening with the marine food web.
It is like a world of hidden secrets to me and of course I wanted to find out all I could.
What species of flatfish was this – halibut, sole, flounder?
Photo: Hildering
I do not have the expertise to know but, oh so thankfully, there are those out there willing to share their great knowledge.
Marie-Josée Gagnon of the Salmon Coast Research Station quickly steered me in the right direction, believing it was most likely a species of sole.
She connected me with zooplankton taxonomist Moira Galbraith of the Institute of Ocean Sciences who confirmed that this was the larval form of a Pacific Sand Sole (Psettichthys melanostictus), a species that can grow to 63 cm. She also shared that the transparency of the larval fish serves as camouflage, reducing the chances of it being eaten before reaching the life stage where it settles to the ocean bottom and hides on and in the sand.
But wait, what are those two little zooplankton guys attached to the larval sole? They are copepods, but what kind of copepod? What does their presence mean ? Are they parasitic? And there I go down the marine id rabbit hole.
One thing I know for sure though – and forgive me for the following pun because the emotion behind it is very sincere – how I hope this little planktonic fish will be a . . . sole survivor.
This great item by Puget Sound Sea Life has been brought to my attention and includes the following: ” . . . within several days to weeks, depending on the species, the larva undergoes a radical metamorphosis. The right or left eye migrates from it’s normal position across the top of the head to the other side of the body changing some skull bones in the process . . . . After metamorphosis, the fish settles to the bottom on it’s left side, develops skin color on the right side and continues growth as a juvenile. Adapting a bottom-dwelling life style allows flatfish to exploit a common habitat – flat sandy bottoms which are very common in the subtidal zone. Many fish avoid this habitat because of the lack of rocks or other features that would provide a hiding place. Flatfish can hide from predators by burrowing, leaving only their eyes above the surface. In addition the habitat is home to an abundance of prey such as worms and shrimp. With both eyes on the upper side they can use 3D vision to hunt and detect predators. There has been considerable controversy over the origin of flatfish, but recent discoveries of several fossil intermediate forms show that eye migration evolved gradually some fifty million years ago.”
With regard to the ectoparasites on the sand sole larva, Marie-Josée Gagnon and Moira Galbraith have again been very generous with their knowledge. It is impossible to know the species from my photo but, due to the size, it is likely a recent infection and could be (1) first stage Chalimus; (2) Lepeophtheirus bifidus – which, unlike most parasites of benthic marine species is host specific – only being found on the rock sole or possibly, (3) the isopod Gnathia. I valued having affirmed too that adults and young live in different environments to eliminate competition for the same resources but also to provide a buffer or separation to prevent transfer of disease or parasites.
Update: Fisheries Notice March 25, 2019: “ROCKFISH DESCENDING DEVICES The use of a descending device is now required by condition of licence to assist in the conservation and survivability of rockfish being returned to the water. Because of their closed swim bladders, rockfish brought to the surface suffer barotrauma, causing the swim bladder to inflate and reducing the probability of their survival upon release. Handle catch as little as possible, using wet hands to preserve the protective slime coat, and return to the water at depth of capture as quickly as possible (under two minutes). To avoid catching rockfish, move to another fishing location.”
Here’s another case of a photo being worth a thousand words.
It is of a Yelloweye Rockfish that has died from barotrauma, also known as “pressure shock”.
Many rockfish species are particularly sensitive to reductions in pressure since the air in their swim bladders expands substantially. The swim bladder is a buoyancy control organ and even when slowly reeled in from a depth of only 20 m (60’), a rockfish’s swim bladder can expand to three times its size, putting pressure on the fish’s organs.
As is the case with the Yelloweye Rockfish in the photo, the swim bladder can expand to the point of causing the fish’s eyes to bulge out of their sockets and its stomach to be pushed out of its mouth. I know this is likely a sight that may not enhance your appetite for your rockfish catch but please read on since, contrary to the thinking of many, this IS reversible whereby the rockfish stands a good chance of survival.
Yelloweye Rockfish that has died of barotrauma. Reduced water pressure causes the air in the swim bladder to expand and push out the stomach and eyes. BUT this is a reversal condition whereby the fish can survive through use of a “fish descender”. Photo: Hildering.
Colossal management errors were made with overfishing slow-growing rockfish. Many species are extremely long-lived, slow to sexually mature, and the big, old females are the most fertile – producing the most eggs and hatching the largest number of healthy young.
For example, Yelloweye Rockfish are believed to have a lifespan of up to 118 years. They don’t reproduce until they are at least 12 years old, and the old females can incubate up to 2.7 million eggs! Know that there are 34 species of rockfish off the coast of British Columbia.
This means that species are very slow to reproduce whereby, if you catch lots, especially the big females, you can devastate populations very quickly.
Another nail in the coffin of rockfish is that many adults also have high site fidelity so that by fishing one area, you can wipe out a community of fish. Click here for my blog on having found back the SAME individual rockfish in the SAME spot after EIGHT YEARS. This is why Rockfish Conservation Areas (RCAs) are essential, where it is illegal most often to do any hook and line fishing (see restrictions here).
But, what is you accidentally catch a rockfish outside these areas and do not wish to retain it, or you have already caught your fishing limit?
There are studies that prove that if you were to quickly recompress the fish, it would stand a very good chance of survival, even where it appears dead at the surface (see video below). The fish could be brought back to depth with barbless weighted hooks, commercial “fish descenders” (cost is only about $6). Note that it is of course better
This video makes the life-saving potential of fish descenders very clear.
Or you can even use an inverted, weighted milk crate! See clip below.
How wonderful it would be if more people would undertake the effort to recompress the fish, knowing how dire the situation is for many rockfish species. Imagine the further positive impact if people would choose to return the depleted species to depth even when they haven’t reached their catch limit, especially the big, highly productive females.
But, even if there was to be such enlightenment, many rockfish populations are so depleted that they need far more protection.
Again, Rockfish Conservation Areas (RCAs) are essential. These should be areas known to be the territory of depleted rockfish populations. Since these are no-fishing zones, there is no chance of barotrauma and the rockfish populations that live in the area are given the time to rebuild to have more sexually mature fish and more big old super mamas.
King-of-the-Salmon at ~1.5m long. Photo: September 2017 by Collin Jay Johnson; near Tattoosh off Neah Bay Washington; depth ~100 fathoms.
Update September 20, 2020: King-of-the-Salmon washed up at Whiffen Spit (Sooke) on September 18 and documented by Dana LeComte (photo below).
Update June 24, 2020 (posted 2020-09-28): ~1.5 m long King-of-the-Salmon found struggling to stay upright by Al Champ and Wendy Cooper in East Sooke (photo and further details below).
Update June 8, 2020: King-of-the-Salmon documented by Harbor WildWatch in Salt Creek, west of Port Angeles, Washington. They provided the insight that “We speculate that this individual swam too close to shore and was killed by the waves as there was no evidence of predation. These are thin delicate fish adapted to the deep ocean. The tide pushed it up into the creek where it was discovered.”
Update August 2019: King-of-the-Salmon sighted in the shallows in Telegraph Cove, British Columbia on August 19th. Sighting and photos by Greg and Kim Ashton. Photos below.
Update September / October 2017: There have been 4 known King-of-the-Salmon washed shore in southern British Columbia / northern Washington. See details and photos below.
Here’s a finding to enhance your sense of wonder about the sea and how little we know about its inhabitants.
On March 23rd, 2012 Darren and Joanne Rowsell found this dead specimen on the beach at Lady Ellen Point, Port McNeill, British Columbia, Canada. When the photos landed in my inbox, I almost fell off my chair recognizing how rare a find this was. It’s a King-of-the Salmon (Trachipterus altivelis). The adults feed in the open ocean at depths of 900+ m (3,000 feet) so they hardly ever wash ashore and I had never seen one before.
Darren Rowsell with the King-of-the-Salmon found on March 23rd, 2012 near Port McNeill. Photo Joanne Rowsell.
Easy to see why the King-of-the-Salmon belongs to the ribbonfish family. Photo Joanne Rowsell.
The King-of-the-Salmon belongs to the ribbonfish family (Trachipteridae). You’ll note from Joanne’s photos that the species is indeed very ribbon-like. It is extremely thin and maximum confirmed length is 2.45m (Savinykh and Baitalyuk. 2011). The long, high, crimson coloured dorsal fin is also very reminiscent of a ribbon, tapering down the full length of the fish’s back. These fish move in a snake-like fashion, undulating their long bodies.
The unique common name of the King-of-the-Salmon is said to originate from Makah First Nation legend. The legend is said to be that the fish was believed to be the “king” that would lead salmon back to their rivers to spawn and that to kill one was believed to bring bad luck, causing the death of the salmon. The Makah, like other fisherfolk, must occasionally have caught one on their lines or in their nets. HOWEVER, I have never been able to verify if this is indeed a Makah legend and am currently (September 2020) trying to find out if there is indeed validity to this.
King-of-the-Salmon. Photo Joanne Rowsell.
When one of these very rare and unique fish does wash ashore, it usually draws a lot of attention. See the video and photo below for a large King-of-the-Salmon found near Oak Bay, British Columbia on September 21st, 2017. A second one was also found near Oak Bay a few days later on September 26th. A third was found on a beach off Hood Canal, Washington on October 3rd, 2017. And a forth was found in Sidney, British Columbia on October 29th, 2017. (See photos below).
King-of-the-Salmon’s dorsal fin extends all the way down its back. Photo Joanne Rowsell.
Range: The species’ range is believed to be from the Gulf of Alaska to Chile.
King-of-the-Salmon found at Freshwater Bay, Clallam County, Washington in 1973, by Oscar Stigen. Photo provided by his daughter Jean Stigen.
Diet and Feeding Method: Smaller King-of-the-Salmon do feed closer to shore and their diet is known to include copepods, annelid worms, fish scales, and fish larvae. Larger individuals feed on copepods, krill (euphausids), polychaetes (bristle worms, small pelagic fish, young rockfish, squid, and octopus. Part of what makes the species so unique is that they can capture (and process prey) by extreme protrusion of the upper jaw. See photos below.
From Ferry, et al (notably the ONLY research I could find on this species): “T. altivelis does appear to have earned the title of “most extreme”in terms of premaxillary protrusion. The distance to which the upper jaw is protruded anteriorly away from the head exceeds that of any other known species . . .the gut was examined in an attempt to gain further insight into this species’ecology. The gut was empty, but the anatomy was unusual and potentially suggestive of extreme foraging habits. There were hundreds of very small diverticuli lining the gut, which suggest to us a mechanism for increasing digestive surface area and/or efficacy. This species has been described as a deep-midwater forager on crustacean zooplankton (Hart, 1973; Shenker, 1983), which is consistent with such mechanisms.”
Replicas of the head of the same King-of-the-Salmon by Bilz Rockfish. Compare the top and bottom photo (cast from the SAME fish) to see the extreme capability of this fish to extend its jaw. learned that the nose can push outward as you see by contrasting the top and bottom casts (from the same fish).
Photo: Harbor Wildwatch, June 8, 2020 which allows for insight into the protrusion method this fish uses to eat.
A different species but provides some insight into how fish jaws can protrude. Species in this slow-mo GIF is “the Neotropical cichlid, Caquetaia myersi, showing off its highly protrusible jaw while feeding on a black worm.” Source: Martinez et al.
Predation: I presume that stomach content studies have allowed science to determine that the predators of the King-of-the-Salmon include the Bigeye Thresher Shark (Alopias superciloosus), and the Longnose Lancetfish (Alepisaurus ferox).
Swimming: From Dr. Gavin Hanke of the Royal BC Museum: “King-of-the-Salmon swim by passing a sine wave down their dorsal fin – they can get a fair bit of speed just by doing that. They can also reverse using the same fin flutter. They slowly turn by putting a curve in the body. However, in the first few seconds of the linked video you can see that they also swim in a more typical fishy way (using eel-like body oscillation) when they need a burst of speed or a really quick turn.” See video below of one swimming.
And THAT appears to be all that is known about the King-of-the-Salmon – yet another one of our remarkable marine neighbours. From Ferry, et al (2019): ” While much work remains regarding the ecology of T. altivelis and its relatives, it is certain that this fish holds many surprises yet in store”. No doubt.
Sightings photos and video.
King-of-the Salmon found near Oak Bay, British Columbia on September 21, 2017 by Ben Clinton Baker. It will end up on display in the Shaw Centre for the Salish Sea in Sidney, British Columbia. Photo: Oak Bay News. Click here for the story. Below, video of what is presumably this individual when still alive. Credit: Peter Rowand.
Second King-of-the-Salmon found near Oak Bay in September 2017. Photo: Emily Walsh, September 26, 2017.
Third found: 1.8 m long female King-of-the-Salmon found on October 3rd, 2017 off Hood Canal, Washington by Chris and Randi Jones. As relayed to Randi by Davy Lowry of the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife “this is the first reported occurrence of this species in Hood Canal ever, and the only other one found in Puget Sound was discovered on a beach back in the 1990s near Tacoma.”
Same fish as in the photo above. Female King-of-the-Salmon found off Hood Canal, Washington on October 3, 2017 by Chris and Randi Jones. It was 1.8 m long (71′) and 3.3 kg (7.25 lb) and necropsy found that “there was nothing in the gut to indicate it had eaten recently”. and Photo: Lisa Hillier; Washington Department of Fish & Wildlife.
Fourth King-of-the-Salmon found in the fall of 2017 in southern British Columbia / northern Washington. This one was found on October 29th near Sidney British Columbia 100 m north of Reay Creek. Report and photo by Josh Grant. Coordinates: 48°38’03.3″N 123°24’22.7”W
Sighting of a King-of-the-Salmon August 19, 2019 (at least 70 cm long). Greg and Kim Ashton relayed how “We had just tied up our boat in the marina and were walking to shore when Kim spotted what at first we thought was an eel, but quickly realized it wasn’t but some type of fish we had never seen before. It was in five to six feet [~2m] of water and then swam up into shallower water . . . I was amazed at how it seemed to be looking at us and how brightly colored chrome-like its body was . . .”. Video of this individual (below) reveals this individual may not have been healthy.
June 24, 2020 : ~1.5 m long King-of-the-Salmon in poor condition found by Al Champ and Wendy Cooper in East Sooke, across from the Sooke River. They strived to help it on its way but ran out of daylight, finding it was getting weaker and weaker and that it made no attempt to swim away.
King-of-the-Salmon found near Salem, Oregon in 2006. 1.83 m (6 foot) long and the head was about 23 cm (9 inches) wide. Source: Salem News; July 23, 2006; “Strange Fish Found on Beach Near Seaside” Click here to read the story.
Plankton life stages of the King-of-the-salmon. Source: http://access.afsc.noaa.gov/ichthyo/LHDataIll.cfm?GSID=Trachipterus!altivelis Credits: A: Matarese, A.C., and E.M. Sandknop. 1984. Identification of fish eggs. In H.G. Moser, W.J. Richards, D.M. Cohen, M.P. Fahay, A.W. Kendall, Jr., and S.L Richardson (eds.), Ontogeny and systematics of fishes. Spec. Publ. 1, Am. Soc. Ichthyol. Herpetol., p. 27-31. Allen Press, Lawrence, KS, 760 p. B: Charter, S.R., and H.G. Moser. 1996.Trachipteridae: Ribbonfishes. In H.G. Moser (ed.), The early stages of fishes in the California Current region. CalCOFI Atlas 33, p. 669-677. Allen Press, Lawrence, KS, 1505 p. C and D: Matarese, A.C., A.W. Kendall, Jr., D.M. Blood, and B.M. Vinter. 1989. Laboratory guide to early life history stages of Northeast Pacific fishes. NOAA Tech. Rep. NMFS 80, 652 p.
Photo above and the following information was shared by Micah Quindazzi who is a masters student at the University of Victoria studying the King-of-the-Salmon. He extracted the ear bones (otoliths) of two full-grown adult King-of-the-Salmon (the September 18, 2020 and February 6, 2019 individuals). The photo shows the left and right otoliths from the September 18th individual. He shared that it is notable that the otoliths are tiny in comparison to the body size of the fish.
Savinykh, V. F. and A. A. Baitalyuk. 2011. Taxonomic status of ribbonfishes of the genus Trachypterus (Trachipteridae) from the northern part of the Pacific Ocean. J. Ichthyol. 51:581–589.
