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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/)
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