Fish Are Friends, Not Food

An Icefish: these fish live in the deep ocean off the coast of Antarctica and the southern tip of South America. They live in the depths of the ocean where no other fish can survive. Their blood is transparent because they have no hemoglobin and they rely on oxygen dissolved through their skin from the surrounding water for metabolism.



For as long as I can remember, I've never been able to eat seafood. Beyond the wretched scent, I've always been disinterested in eating it. Often times I've even joked about how eating fish is like cannibalism to me because I feel so deeply connected with the ocean. I spent a part of my childhood in Venezuela and have traveled across many Caribbean and tropical countries but can never bring myself to indulge in the fine seafood cuisine. I also know that almost 80% of the entire world's fisheries are deficient, over-exploited or threatened to collapse. Fish farms, as a solution, have damaged rivers, lakes and even oceans in response. The fish raised in artifical environments are always devoid of vitamins and natural color and the benefit they bring is far less than the damage they bring.





Perhaps the most prominent (and slightly absurd) reason why I don't eat seafood is because so much of my appreciation for the ineffability and incomprehensibility of the world is derived from the ocean. Water covers 71% of the earth's surface, the earliest life forms first appeared in water, and water sustains life for every living thing. Yet, of all the world's biomes and ecosystems, we know the least about the ocean. Our bodies were not built to withstand the pressure drops (7x's faster than going upwards) and we cannot breathe under the surface; the ocean, truly, is the final frontier that man may never full explore.





My stepfather knew how much I loved learning about the ocean, so he made me a deal. If I took certification for scuba diving, he would buy me an underwater camera so that I could take pictures of all the fish. We ended up getting certified together on St. Eustatia's island (Dutch West Antilles) by a French man. I was absolutely terrified because of how unnatural it is for our bodies to be beneath the surface and because I really don't know a lot about the ocean. Yet, when I finally started to understand how to control my buoyancy and breathing, I began to look around me and witness unimaginable life. I actually giggled into my regulator when I saw a green sea turtle eating and calmly watched a reef shark swim by without being scared. I saw yellowhead jawfish burrow into the sand and spit out rocks, french angelfish darting across the coral and nurse sharks hiding beneath the coral. I saw fish I couldn't name and fish I couldn't quite describe. I was stalked by a curious barracuda and made a mutual agreement with a trumpet fish.





I think of all these creatures--of the Portuguese Man-of-war jelly who is actually several organisms living as one or the angler fish and how the male grows into the female as a parasite--and I feel insignificant. I can never become idle or bored because there is so much to learn and think about. When I think about the ocean, I can't not believe in God; though, I don't quite know what to think of God as. I do know, however, that there is something much bigger than man at work in this world and we will probably never be able to grasp it.