Sharks don’t do much for me. Now, that’s in no way saying I don’t fear them — I definitely do. What makes sharks manageable is that they are a known fear. It is a healthy fear. A respect, really. You know what to do when they’re around, more or less: either keep them in your eyeline and maneuver accordingly or get the hell out of Dodge. Not so much for this slithering sea demon, otherwise known as the oarfish, with its fabled place in ancient lore. Those there are the makings of an unhealthy fear, and consequently my nightmares.
I’m not scared of most ocean animals, or most animals for that matter. In fact, I have an outsized love for those critters. I am simply scared by the ones that look like the result of an unfavorable run-in with a scaly sorceress dressed in an oversized mumu and slippers who swore you’d regret the day you took her parking spot. It’s like a creepy Japanese anime movie in real life. But unlike our sorceress, oarfish don’t have scales. And that is where the creepiness begins. Instead of known scales, they have a layer of skin made up of tubercules (wart-like projects… ew) and a silvery coat of guanine (which sounds like guano, or poop, but apparently isn’t). And the first recorded sighting was way back in 1772, meaning these dudes have had a real long time to seep into horror stories. Shudder.
Anyway, they’ve been washing ashore all over as of late. Needless to say, I haven’t been sleeping much.
Then less than a week ago this particular video was posted, a stone’s throw down the coast from me in Baja, California. I mean, really? Who in the hell is the ballsy fellow that dives in with that fish? (Are we still calling this a fish?) You’re going to awaken the monster! When these supposedly docile serpents turn on us and storm the shallows like it’s the apocalypse, don’t come crying to me. I don’t believe these “scientists” for one minute. You won’t catch me sleeping on them. The absurdities lure you in with their mythical intrigue, baiting you with that mane of red hair and next thing you know we’re rejiggering trade routes and closing beaches. Leave ’em be and we might — might have a chance.
Alright, alright. They’re not dangerous to us human folk. And they are awesome glimpses into a world many of us — unless you’re James Cameron-sorts of rich, or simply James Cameron — will never see for ourselves. But the fact that these sightings are becoming all the more common is a point of concern. While the oarfish themselves may not be dangerous, they’re thought to forewarn of impending earthquakes. It’s said that deep sea fish are more sensitive to the active vaults than those near the surface; therefore, when they wash up, they’re migrating away from something they’re scared of. So even if I shouldn’t be scared of oarfish, I’m not keen on the ground beneath my feet opening up and swallowing us whole either.
A spot in ancient lore and modern-day science. Seriously, how gnarly are oarfish?
