Until now, the most sophisticated example was an African elephantfish that flushes out its prey in tight formations, and communicates with one another using electric pulses. Many species of fish will attack the same prey, but very few truly work together during a hunt by coordinating their attacks. Steinegger has started to test captive goatfish and he has duplicated the same coordinated hunts in the controlled conditions of a lab. Once the chaser drives its prey into coral crevices, the others act as blockers, swimming around to cut it off. The moment one fish shoots off towards a target, the others join in the hunt. They only team up when they hunt among corals.
The goatfish normally forage alone, using their whisker-like barbels to feel around for prey buried in sand. They could belong to several different groups, but those groups would keep the same members over time. Each fish would regularly keep in touch with the same companions, usually ones of similar size. Eventually, she could tell 17 different individuals from one another, and she learned that they form surprisingly stable social networks. After repeatedly snorkelling after the fish, Strubin gradually learned that they have distinctive spots on their bodies and blue lines around their eyes.
“During that time, one happens to see a lot of things.” The cooperative hunts of the goatfish were one of these incidental observations. “I spent a long time working on cleaner wrasses ,” he says. Bshary has spent over a decade in the Red Sea, studying the local fish. The goatfish are one of the few examples of fish that hunt in groups, and their strategy has just been described by Carine Strubin, Marc Steinegger and Redouan Bshary from the University of Neuchatel. With no escape, the predators – a group of yellow saddle goatfish – close in on their prey. One of them chased it into a coral crevice, while the others circled around to block off any exists. I was promised epiphany, earth- honey, and a flood of milk, but I will settle for anything that brings you now, you still-hungry mongrel, you glut of bone, you, scentless as gold.In the Red Sea, a tiny fish has been cornered by a group of hunters working as a team. Do you not know how scary it can get here? The talons that dropped me left long scars around my neck that still burn in the wind. Wounded wolves will pad away from their pack to die lonely and cold. They say even longing has its limits: in a bucket, an eel will simply stop swimming long before it starves. I thought I saw you last year, bark wrapped around your thighs, lurching toward the shore at dawn. Remember when you breathed through my mouth, your breath becoming mine? Remember when you sang for me and I fell to the floor, turning into a thousand mice? Whatever it was we were practicing cannot happen without you. A body can cause almost anything to happen. I dump my ashtray into a bucket of paint and coat myself in the gray slick, rolling around on the carpets of rich strangers while they applaud and sip their scotch. The work I’ve been doing is a kind of erasing.
The mind wants what it wants: daily newspapers, snapping turtles, a pound of flesh. Sometimes I can feel it pulsing through the dirt, though even this you ignore.
I live on the skull of a giant burning brain, the earth’s core. Sweet nothings sour in the air while the ocean hoots itself to sleep. On this one the wet is driving people mad-the bankers all baying in the woods while their markets fail, a florist chewing up flowers to spit mouthfuls here and there as his daughter’s lungs seize shut from the pollen. The earth is a giant chessboard where the dark squares get all the rain.
Hungry wolf eel full#
Whether in a train full of dying criminals or on the gleaming saddle of a locust, you are needed again.
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