Into the Lion's den

by Mark Webster

Reproduced from in focus 66 (October 1999)

Occasionally when diving you are lucky enough to enjoy a surreal experience. I had one of these on a recent trip to the Red Sea - the image before me was more reminiscent of a summer garden with hordes of white butterflies fluttering through the plants and bushes. Only, of course, I was underwater and the 'butterflies' in front of me were a group of fifteen to twenty lion fish, totally oblivious to my presence as they herded and defended their personal larder, a shoal of glass fish.

Almost every diver, whether a tropical fan or not, will recognise the lion fish. They are often referred to as Turkey fish, Zebra fish or Fire fish dependant on location, as they are common throughout the Indo-Pacif ic seas. In the Red Sea there are three species to look out for - the common block or brown and white variety, the more shy red and white variety (which has much finer spines) and the dwarf lion fish which is more of a bottom dweller with good camouflage.

Lion fish are perhaps the most graceful and attractive of reef fish and in fact are members of the scorpion fish family (Scorpaenidae) of which there are more than three hundred species world-wide, including the extremely venomous stone fish. Scorpion fish gain their name from the hypodermic like dorsal, pelvic and anal spines which carry a venom which is used chiefly as a defence mechanism. The lion fish is no different in this respect and each of its feathery fins is supported by one of these spines. To be stung by one is rarely fatal but always extremely painful and often with unpleasant side effects. I have witnessed divers being stung on the head a couple of times and the first aid treatment of applying very hot water to the wound, to break down the toxin, seems only to exacerbate the painf ul symptoms - my advice is always weara hood!

Most divers encounter lion fish during the day on the reef either resting under overhangs or clinging to the reef waiting for dusk to fall when they normally begin to hunt. Their prey is small reef fish (glass fish or silver sides), juvenile fish and small crustaceans. It is not so unusual to encounter a solitary lion fish swimming in open water during daylight, perhaps disturbed by the presence of divers. They normally show little concern or fear of a diver's approach although they will sometimes display their defences, by putting their heads down and swimming towards you, or turn their backs as a warning sign. However, it is quite rare to find a group or shoal of lion fish on the reef, particularly during daylight hours. Even more unusual is the evidence of team work to feed together and defend their catch from other predators. This was just my discovery on a small coral head in the Straits of Tiran which I had dived many times before, but had only seen one or two lion fish.

This particular day I was looking for macro subjects and only slowly became aware of the slow movement around a shoal of glass fish ahead of m. As I approached and saw the lion fish I began to count and realised that I was witnessing a special event. I quickly returned to the boot for my wide angle system - which fortunately, following good boy scout principles, was already prepared. I came back and settled to watch and gradually could discern the behaviour of the group as they gently herded the glass fish towards the reef and then individual lion fish would dash in and feed. This was repeated whilst each lion fish fed. Occasionally the group would surround and inspect me, but as I was obviously not interested in the glass fish I was mostly ignored even to the point where one or two of the lion fish settled on my head or shoulder momentarily - a little disconcerting! buring one of these visits a shoot of juvenile fusiliers arrived on the scene and the group quickly swurn off and formed up squadron style to chase them off. This went on for several minutes whilst the fusiliers tried several times to have a taste of the glass fish larder, but were seen off every time by co-ordinated attacks fram the lion fish.

All too quickly I was out of film and had to head for the surface to reload the camera. When I returned the activity was less frantic as the fusiliers had departed, presumably frustrated with their efforts. The lion fish continued their leisurely snacking one after the other although it was difficult to detect any hierarchy or queuing system. As I returned to the surface once more I pondered just how long this behaviour would last. The question was answered a few weeks later when I dived the site again - one lion fish and hardly any glass fish left, the larder was bare and the shoal had either dispersed or moved on in search of richer pastures!

Reproduced from in focus 66 (October 1999) with kind permission of Mark Webster (http://www.photec.co.uk/)