By Anne Kilgannon
A friend was exclaiming on the wonders of a publication she had been studying and asked if I would I like to see the three-volume set of Fishes of the Salish Sea before she returned her inter-library loan? The title brought back a vivid moment at a long-ago in-person program meeting of Black Hills, when Elizabeth Roderick took my arm and said, “You really must see and review this new set of books!” I had nodded then but had no idea what was in store for me. But the title stuck with me and now here the books were, about to fall into my lap, three giant books of exquisite design, organization and erudition. Serendipity said yes!
I truly had no idea of what an eye-opening treasure trove had come my way until I began to turn the over-sized pages and look into the eyes of one creature after another. Really, fish are nothing short of astonishing in their variety of body shapes, colors, structures, adaptations and ways of living. They easily rival birds in their myriad imaginative forms in all ways except for one important one: it would be exceedingly difficult to observe these fish in their habitat as we do birds, except perhaps in the most expansive fish market ever found. This is a world few of us have any notion exists “just out there” in Puget Sound and the connected waters of the Straights of Georgia and Juan De Fuca. This publication meets that need, superbly.
Previously, there existed no other scholarly guides for aspiring students and curious lay persons of ichthyo-fauna so comprehensive and up to date; older textbooks employed taxonomies that were now considered problematic and had not kept pace with marine research and discoveries. University of Washington marine biologists Theodore Wells Pietsch and James Wilder Orr recount their frustrations trying to teach and inspire students—as well as resource managers, ecologists, anglers and divers, anyone interested in the underwater world all around us—about the marvels of adaptation and diversity of life existing there. They met and schemed and hoped to remedy this lack but it wasn’t until artist Joseph Tomelleri joined their team that the project went from wish to reality. No photographs could have captured the life force so graphically. Indeed, the illustrations make this book the treasure it is.
There is one exquisite image for every fish of the two hundred and sixty species to be found in our local waters. Each one is anatomically correct right down to the number of scales found on each fish body. The colors, in splotches, stripes, shimmers, and shades are both true to life and therefore all the more incredible to gaze upon. Dr. Seus himself could not have been more inventive: from boneless, elongated and finless fish well-coated with slime, to goggle-eyed squashed-shaped flounders, to whip-thin quill fish, to the pickleback fish called a decorated warbonnet, and finally to the more familiar salmon, sharks and codfish. Some have wicked jutting jaws well equipped with razor edged teeth, while some have no teeth at all but get their meals through sucking funnels they attach to their prey. They are a study in evolution and adaptation, in the wild assortment of ways to live, reproduce and inhabit the watery world from beach shallows to hidden depths, fresh to brackish to salty seas.
The illustrations were created in a complex process using the best models that the team could procure. The story of how they researched and searched for the best available specimens is as captivating as their achievement is legendary. Existing specimen collections were incomplete and often poorly cared for, the neglect mirroring academic underfunding and vagaries of departmental fashions and focus. Remedying that dereliction was a challenge but critical for the work. Creating a complete inventory of fish life was foundational for the understanding of biodiversity, range, extinctions, impacts of climate change, health of the ecosystem, and other concerns. What the authors achieved lays down a line of reference, a snapshot from which to measure change and gauge causes and effects and how the myriad species adapt—or not—to conditions. For the reader, it is a powerful experience to gaze at each fish and realize that each plays a role, has a place, an evolutionary history, and hopefully a future in our local waters.
The publication is spread over three volumes: the first being a general introduction to the field: its concerns, its history as a scientific discipline and its pioneers. Pietsch and Orr graciously acknowledge the shoulders they stand upon by including brief biographies of the scientists who preceded them, whose collections survived in the dusty jars of preserved species stacked in storerooms and closets. They provide a quick background on the glacial and geological formation of the seabed and adjoining waters, their different zones of salinity, depth, and other characteristics, linked with charts of habitat location and distribution of species.
After setting the stage, the authors and illustrator devote the next two volumes describing each fish. Each illustration is coded with pictorial keys that identify the species characteristics, variations by sex and developmental stages, seasonal migrations and usual habitats. There is a helpful glossary of terms that make the taxonomy discussion intelligible to non-experts, broadening the reach of this incredible work. The books conclude with an extensive reference section and a well designed index. The achievement is comprehensive and impressive, a milestone in the moving target of capturing fish life in the throes of continuous evolution and response to climate change and other pressures.
Did I have a favorite fish? Impossible to choose, but I was very taken with sculpins and rockfish for their paintbox of colors and markings—astonishingly beautiful. What was made abundantly clear as I studied the pages of this wondrous set of books was the sheer variety to be found, the hundreds of ways to be a fish in our local waters.
