Today was one of those days that people will tell stories about. Ten years from now, some of these researchers, including myself, will start a story with “There was this one time in Belize when the most ridiculous thing happened…” Here is the story.
Today started off like any other day. Delicious breakfast and then getting the gear ready for our morning lionfish dive. By this time, all of us hunters (Me, Danielle, Mike, and Lane) are really accurate and are able to bag dozens of lionfish in a single trip. We were in about 60 feet of water, with just a few lionfish in the bag. Suddenly, we came upon a reef flat with (I kid you not) at least 10 lionfish in plain view and probably dozens more hiding behind sponges. Danielle and I got right to work. I swam in and speared one within a few seconds of spotting it. I killed it with my extra spear and then swam back to the bag to shove it in. The bag is made of heavy-duty plastic and usually holds up well against lionfish spines. However, in my excitement and rush to get more fish, I got a little careless. I maneuvered my fish into the bag and then shook it to get it off the spear, but it wouldn’t come off. Normally, I would then have taken my other spear and pried it off. In my hurry, I pulled my spear out too fast, with the fish attached and used my hand to push on the bag to keep it closed. Just my luck, the lionfish spines pierced the bag and went right into the fleshy part of my left thumb.
Instant pain. Holy moly guacamole. Yikes. I screamed into my regulator for a while and then kind of floated away from the bag. I stared at my thumb and wondered what life would be like without it, because surely cutting it off would be less painful than this. I was done hunting for the day. Danielle motioned that we should go up, but I shook my head. I didn’t want to cut the dive short and there were still so many lionfish to spear. I thought about trying to spear another one, but then I realized that I couldn’t move my thumb since it had swelled up to twice its normal size. I watched the other divers spear more fish while I floated nearby, trying to be helpful by holding dropped kill sticks during the hunt. Eventually we made it back to the boat (alongside a remora) and back to the island where I promptly put my thumb in the hottest water I could stand (to denature the poison). I remained with my thumb in a cup of hot water for several hours until the pain dissipated. By mid-afternoon, I was as right as rain. My thumb still looked chunky and hurt like I had squished it in a door a few days ago.
It was time for our second dive. I wanted to go again because I was feeling fine and I wanted to have my revenge on the stupid lionfish. Back in the water, I saw another lionfish, but I was too timid to shoot it. I hesitated, remembering the pain, and couldn’t focus on the shot. This is what happened for the first few that I tried to spear. Finally, I saw an easy shot and speared it. Being very careful, I placed it in the bag without getting stuck. After that one, I realized that my lust for revenge was spent and the lionfish made me a little bit too uncomfortable to continue hunting. I still wanted to help, though, so I carried the bag and opened it up for other people’s fish. The first time I opened up the bag to help someone, the fish jerked a little and to my complete astonishment, the freaking thing stabbed me in the right thumb!!! I couldn’t believe it!! The pain was intense, but I just started laughing like a crazy person. How is this even possible! Right when I decided to stop spearing, I get nicked again! Ahhhhhhh! I must have looked like a maniac in the water because I was laughing so hard. It was ridiculous. Finally, we finished the dive and came back to the island for hot water. The other researchers asked “How’s your thumb?” I replied “Which one?” Haha. It sucked.
Anyway, in better news, the Acropora corals spawned tonight! It was so exciting and we collected loads of bundles. We still expect there to be more spawning tomorrow night to finish the Acropora spawning season! We now have two healthy batches of corals swimming (well, floating) in our wet lab. Hurray!