MIND-BOGGLING FISH
Few fish grab our attention the way the clown
fish does. Perhaps it wins our hearts with its fancy coloring, which may remind
us of a circus clown. Or maybe we are struck by its surprising choice of home
–among the stinging tentacles of a sea anemone. Not surprisingly, another name
for the clown fish is anemonefish.
Like many Hollywood actors, clown fish
are not averse to photographs. Divers and snorkelers can usually expect clown
fish to pose for pictures, since they rarely stray far from home and are not
particularly shy.
But what makes clown fish amazing
is their seemingly risky lifestyle. Living among poisonous tentacles would seem
to be comparable to setting up home in a nest of serpents. Still, clown fish
and their anemone of choice are inseparable. What makes this strange
partnership possible and successful?
Like
most good partnerships, clown fish and anemones give and take. The relationship
is not merely convenient for the clown fish; it is vital. Marine biologists have confirmed that clown fish
cannot live in the wild without a host anemone. They are poor swimmers and would
be at the mercy of hungry predators without the anemone’s protection. However,
by using the anemones as a home base and as a safe shelter when threatened, the
clown fish may reach ten years of age.
The anemone provides a safe nesting site
as well as a home. The clown fish deposits their eggs at the host anemone,
where both parents keep careful watch over them. Later, the clown fish family
can be seen swimming around that same anemone.
What does the anemone get out of this
relationship? The clown fish serve as marine bodyguards, driving away butterfly
fish that like to feed on anemone tentacles. At least one species of anemone
cannot live without resident clown fish. When researchers removed the clown
fish, within just 24 hours, the anemone had disappeared completely. Apparently,
butterfly fish had consumed them.
It
seems that clown fish even provide their host with energy. The ammonium that
clown fish excrete helps spurs growth in the host anemone. And as the clown
fish swim among the tentacles, they help circulate oxygen-rich water to the
anemone.
In
the case of clown fish, protection is skin-deep.
They have mucus on their skin that keeps them from being stung. Thanks to this
chemical coating. It seems the anemone considers the clown fish one of its own.
As one marine biologist put it, the clown fish becomes a fish in anemone
clothing.
Some
studies suggest that when selecting a new host, the clown
fish has to go through a process of adaptation. It has been observed
that when the fish approaches an anemone for the first time, it touches the
anemone intermittently for a few hours. Apparently, this on-and-off contact
allows the clown fish to modify its protective coating to conform to the new
anemone’s particular poison. Possibility the clown fish gets stung a little
during this process. But after that, the two get along fine.
The
collaboration of such different creatures offers a fascinating lesson in teamwork. In so many human endeavors, people from
diverse cultures and backgrounds achieve remarkable results by pooling their
resources. Like the clown fish, we may take a little time to adapt to working
with others, but the results are well worth it.
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