Pterois volitans, commonly known as the red lionfish. It is a highly invasive species and scourge of reefs throughout the US and Caribbean. Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation has declared it open season on them with pretty much no holds barred.
At least one of the earliest, if not the earliest of my recognition of the lionfish was from Star Trek: The Next Generation. Captain Jean-Luc Picard had a hemispherical aquarium on the wall in his ready room for most of the series. It was a curiosity throughout the show’s run and I can certainly remember seeing it swimming about. For more history, see Memory Alpha: Livingston.
Over the years, I recall seeing them in various pet shops and probably some zoos and aquaria. It was a curiosity more than anything.
The Enemy is Spotted
Wednesday, November 8, 2023 6PM CST — While walking back to the boat that evening, we spotted a smallish lionfish seemingly hovering in the crystal clear water. These are pretty unconcerned fish. Most predators learn very quickly to give them a wide berth due to their venomous spines. We took a picture and walked on after watching it for a short while.
First Contact
Sunday, January 28th 2024 8AM EST — a chance encounter with a much larger specimen occurred just as we were about to leave for some other adventure. A hurried return belowdecks and quick assembly of my pole spear took about 90 seconds. The lionfish was still there; a carefully aimed shot resulted in a direct hit. The puppies were still on the boat during this, but the minute I pulled the flopping fish from the water and Crew bolted ashore to see what was going on. This was the first time he’d seen a fish above water and it definitely needed investigating. Thankfully, he was kept separate from a painful experience.
The fish was quickly dispatched, spines trimmed off with my heavy-duty toolbox scissors; I wasn’t about to use the good kitchen ones. This was followed by a semi-clumsy filleting; it’s been several years since I’ve cleaned a fish, much less one that initially has so much weaponry. The resulting fillets were about enough for one to one-and-a-half fish tacos. The fillets were rinsed and thrown in some water in the refrigerator for later use.
The Spoils of War
Monday, January 29th, 2024 7PM CST — Well, that was tasty. With such a small amount of fish, it was clear this wasn’t a full meal. Cindy has impressively adjusted to, and now even enjoys, eating a variety of seafood. However, I figured it would be prudent to serve as the test subject this time. (As a note, lionfish are venomous, not poisonous. You need to worry about injection, not ingestion.) The fillets were dredged in some milk and flour with Everglades seasoning mixed in. (This is a local favorite and I would classify it as a mild cajun seasoning with more herbs and a bit more salt than I care for.)
I’d characterize it as a very mildly-flavored fish that was reminiscent of walleye with a finer grain / flake. Victory was sweet.
One win.
Run Away! Run Away!
A week or two later, a smaller lionfish was lazily floating along. Same thing, grab the pole spear, take aim. Miss! No second chance to tag it once it make it to cover.
One loss.
Bam!
Thursday, February 15th 2024 about 6PM CST — This was beginning to become a pattern; see a lionfish, run for the spear, engage with the enemy. A solid connection on the first shot; maybe a little further back on the fish than I would have preferred, but enough to get it out of the water and finished off. The sun had already set and it was getting dark and I’m not about to bring fish belowdecks for cleaning. Nobody wants to smell that for the next few weeks. Cleaning commenced on a cutting board on the dock; it was gettin dark and I wanted this done.
Crap! The needle stick and slowly growing spot of red on my left index finger, right at the distal knuckle were incontrovertible proof that the enemy had drawn first blood. The immediate pain was on par with a wasp sting; not comfortable, but not a show-stopper. “It’s just a flesh wound, I’ve had worse.” A handful of minutes later and some slightly mangled fillets were soaking and destined for the freezer; stored until I have enough for a full meal.
All right, we’ll call it a draw.
Adopting the Schmidt Sting Pain Index
Justin O. Schmidt characterized hymenopteran (a fancy word for bees, wasps, ants and related insects) stings. It rates these stings from 1 to 4 with 4 being the most severe in what is known as the. Schmidt Sting Pain Index.
Within seconds, the pain had bloomed into full paper wasp intensity. It was distracting while I carefully finished cleaning the fish. Within 15 minutes, most of my finger felt like it had been smashed by a hammer. You know that heat-filled tingling and pressure that teaches you to aim for the nail, not your fingernail. This persisted for the next hour with little abatement despite attempted treatment with heat. At the hour and a half mark, the hammer smack faded a bit and was replaced with general swelling and discomfort. Within 24 hours I was left with residual swelling and a healing puncture wound.
My entry for the red lionfish:
You drive a small nail into your hand, then proceed to smack the rest of the surrounding area with a hammer just to make sure you really finished the job. What were you thinking?
D. Bertelsen — on lionfish stings
Planning the Next Offensive
Well, clumsy cleaning and a sub-optimally sharp knife certainly didn’t help the situation. There are some puncture-resistant gloves that I’d definitely invest in if I start generating more casualties. In short, I’ll probably never make a meaningful impact to the lionfish population, but I haven’t been dissuaded from culling those I come across and, perhaps, making them into a mean fish taco.
