In March, we visited Fiji for the first time since 2005 – ten years – I can’t believe it had been that long! This pretty much made Fiji “new” hunting grounds for me because our last visit was long before the launch of this blog and my quest to see as many blennies as possible. I didn’t see everything I wanted during a week at Lalati Resort and a second week aboard the Nai’a liveaboard dive boat – the Lady Musgrave Blenny still eludes me – but on the last dive of the trip, I did see one of my all-time favorites, the Redspotted Blenny, Blenniella chrysospilos. In fact, there were four of them, scampering around in a screaming current on the 2-meter deep reef top.
Highfin Fangblenny, Petroscirtes mitratus
In our previous post, I mentioned seeing the Smooth Fangblenny, Petroscirtes xestus, during a shore dive at Lalati Resort on Beqa Island. The encrusted dock pilings there also house a nice population of Highfin Fangblennies, so we were off to a good start.
Triplespot Blenny, Crossosalarius macrospilus
Once out on the Nai’a liveaboard, we visited dive sites that ranged from a mucky low-profile barrier reef to high profile, open ocean bommies. I always thought blennies were fairly site attached, never venturing far from a home reef but I spent a whole dive following a Triplespot Blenny, Crossosalarius macrospilus, as it roamed way beyond what I thought was a “safe” distance from the coral head where I found it. The very uniform polka dot pattern on this particular fish was striking and I understand their markings can be quite variable. On that same dive, I watched a Piano Fangblenny, Plagiotremus tapeinosoma, weave in and out of the anthias that blanketed the side and top of a small bommie.
Piano Fangblenny, Plagiotremus tapeinosoma
“Mimicry is hard to prove,” Ned warns every time I get all excited about spotting supposed model/mimics. A couple of years ago, I posted about this in The Blenny and the Bream. In Fiji, I spied the localized Canary Fangblenny, Meiacanthus oualanensis and its proposed mimic, the Fiji Fangblenny, Plagiotremus flavus and guess what was swimming around with them on almost every site where I saw them? Juvenile Bridled Breams, Scolopsis bilineatus, in their yellow phase. Very interesting that the juveniles of this species are found in four different color phases and in Fiji that color is bright yellow, matching the bright yellow of the blennies. Afriend just sent more papers about mimicry in fishes, providing more interesting reading about this intriguing topic.
Canary Fangblenny, Meiacanthus oualanensis
Fiji Fangblenny, Plagiotremus flavus
Almost always nearby: A juvenile Bridled Bream in its yellow form.
We leave you with two more favorites the Fiji Clown Blenny, Ecsenius fijiensis and the Bicolor Blenny, Ecsenius bicolor. Blennies in the genus Ecsenius are the fishes that make blenny watching fun – once they get used to us, we can spend an entire dive watching them bob and skitter around a reef:
My haul of sea beans found along the shore at Lalati Resort in Fiji
March 2015 ~ Blennies and sea beans - two of my favorite things – in the same week. We’re ending our longest dry spell in years with a short land-based stay in Beqa (pronounced ben-ga) Island, Fiji, before we join friends aboard the Nai’a liveaboard dive boat. There is a very shallow, wide sand shelf here in front of Lalati Resort that is dry at low tide, making for hours of entertaining beach-combing and tide pooling.
A sea bean washed up on shore, Beqa Island, Fiji
The wrack along the beach had loads of tropical drift seeds, a.k.a. sea beans. There was quite a variety of shapes and sizes, but I think they may all be from only one or two different plant species. Sea bean is the catch-all term for seeds that wash down from land and float at the caprice of ocean currents until tides or winds push them ashore, often far away from their native growth. I don’t know if my lucky haul was the result of favorable tides or if I am just the first sea beaner to wander along this stretch in a while.
A mudskipper rests on a washed-up coconut before resuming its flight from me!
At dawn, we watched a small heron chasing and catching small fishes along the water’s edge. Now, as I slog along, mudskippers, a.k.a. rockskippers, tail walk across the water in front of me. Having escaped being breakfast for the bird, they weren’t taking any chances with whatever danger I represented.
They looked like little yellow leaves fluttering in the breeze: Fiddler crabs
When the tide was out, thousands of small yellow fiddler crabs emerged from sunken burrows to feed and, in the case of the males, attract a mate. What appeared from shore as fluttering yellow leaves were males, waving with much enlarged claws to beckon wandering females. The males seemed to stay near their holes, while the females wandered; I learned to spot the female by looking to the center of a group of waving claws.
Not interested in sea beans, Ned was enticed off the porch by the crabs and we spent hours watching them feed, chase and fight. The male crabs engaged in minutes-long battles, often ending in a short fencing match sending the apparent loser scurrying into his nearby hole.
Nailed by a bristle, a.k.a., fire worm – the hazards of turning rocks!
Rock-turning can have its hazards. Divers are taught to avoid contact with fire worms, large segmented worms that earn their common name from their many bristles, that can inflict a burning sting. Ned had a temporarily painful encounter with one that was sheltering under a rock that he flipped.
A new blenny for my life list: Smooth Fangblenny, Petroscirtes xestus
We chose this resort so we would have the option of diving from shore or off the boats. The shore dive was best at high tide, so we dived the first two days there, then joined Krista and Lars on the Blue Starfish Dive Centre boat for the next two days. We added another blenny to our life lists: the Smooth Fangblenny and that got me so excited that I spent the rest of the week hunting for blennies. Check back soon for our collection of Fiji blennies.
Pantar, Indonesia (May 2014) ~ I just saw a blenny that I don’t recognize and you have to go back to see it. Ned nodded in assent, barely looking up from his laptop. Our liveaboard dive boat, the Dewi Nusantara, was scheduled to remain in this bay for one more day, so I had the evening to pursuade Ned to return to the dive site the next morning instead of exploring another spot. And we had to go back - because I found the blenny at the end of my dive, when everyone else had surfaced and boarded the tender. There were actually a half dozen of these blennies and they were so animated and distinctly patterned and big – oh blenny!
A male Midas Blenny (Ecsenius midas) in its nuptial (courting) colors
A female Midas Blenny (Ecsenius midas) in a typical color pattern
I love blennies, but I am by no means an expert and there are many blenny species that I have never seen, so announcing that I saw one I don’t recognize isn’t necessarily an earth shattering proclamation. But this was a site that we have dived a half dozen times over the past eight years so it was hard to believe we’d missed such a charismatic fish. What was going on? I downloaded the little bit of footage I managed to get and showed it to Ned – we both agreed it looked like a Midas Blenny, but was much larger than the little yellow ones we usually see mixed in and feeding with Anthias in the water column. But Ned did not share my enthusiasm for a return dive and did not tell me why until after we returned the next morning. He said that after he saw my video and the crazy way the fish were swimming he really thought there was no way in hell that he’d get a decent shot.
Male Midas Blenny trying to entice a female into laying eggs in his hole
We confirmed my mystery blenny was indeed a Midas Blenny, Ecsenius midas – a male – in its nuptial colors. There was no doubt once we spent an hour watching them – the males did their best to entice females back to their holes in the reef to lay eggs that the males would guard. And Ned got the shots. I’ve loaded a short video on our YouTube Blennywatcher channel or you can watch it by clicking below:
In May 2012, Ned returned from a dive in Lembeh, Indonesia, with images of this tiny, clear Melibe nudibranch. He had been working the very shallow black sand shelf with our guide, while I was below them at 60 feet, taking video of another, much larger species of Melibe. I was pretty satisfied with my [...]