Honolulu Star-Advertiser © Susan Scott
January 8, 2001
I recently received an email from Penny Torres, the director of a tiger sanctuary in Oregon.
Penny’s organization provides a home for illegally bred and captured tigers that have outgrown their usefulness. She sent me a photo of one of her rescued animals, Raja, a magnificent tiger formerly used for photos in a shopping mall.
But this wildlife enthusiast didn’t write just to tell me about her tigers. She wrote to ask about eagle rays.
While snorkeling in Maui waters, Penny and her family saw three spotted eagle rays. The people swam with the rays and got within 10 feet of them.
Suddenly one ray veered toward the humans. A second later, it returned to formation and swam away with its two companions.
In the world of tigers, Penny writes, this is a mock charge saying you’re annoying me, now back off. But she didn’t know what this meant among rays and wondered if she had been in danger.
I have never heard of a ray charging a person like that, but it doesn’t surprise me. Like tigers, lots of fish (rays are fish) try to intimidate people who get too close.
A couple of personal experiences stand out in my mind.
I was once snorkeling with two friends off Tern Island in Hawaii’s Northwest chain when we saw a gray reef shark directly ahead of us.
Because these sharks are not aggressive, we kept swimming, expecting the shark to take off. Instead, the 4-to-5-foot-long fish stood its ground and arched its body, like a cat arching its back, only sideways.
It wasn’t a charge exactly, but it sure felt like one. We heeded the animal’s warning and left the area immediately. The shark did not follow. I know because I swam all the way back to the beach looking over my shoulder.
Other fish charges I remember vividly weren’t scary but were impressive nevertheless. These were the rushes of damselfish.
Members of this family are scrappy little things — some only a few inches long — that when threatened will charge practically anything, even monster scuba divers. I have had my hands, feet and face charged by the orange damselfish called clownfish that live in anemones.
Other times, plucky damsels called sergeant majors (mamo in Hawaiian) have rushed me over and over until I moved on.
In sergeant majors, the males are the testy ones. After the female lays her purplish eggs on the rocks, it’s the male’s job to guard them. And guard them he does. You know when you’ve ventured too close to a sergeant’s egg patch because the male comes charging fearlessly, stopping just short of contact. Mamo, with their black stripes on yellowish bodies, are tiny tigers of the reef.
Unlike real tigers, however, and sharks, mamo can’t hurt people. And although spotted eagle rays can sting you, they don’t, at least not in mid-water.
Both stingrays and spotted eagle rays use their tail stingers for defense only. (Manta rays don’t have stingers.) People get stung by stingrays when they accidentally step on one buried in the sand. Since eagle rays don’t bury themselves in sand, stings from them are rare. When one does occur, it’s usually to an angler removing the struggling fish from a hook or a net.
Ray stings contain venom and hurt like mad but are not medically dangerous. Even so, it’s appropriate to go to an ER for pain relief and thorough cleaning.
I don’t know why that eagle ray lunged at Penny, but she did the same thing I do when an animal seems to be issuing a warning: Back off and consider it a memorable experience.
The junk problem might also be lessened if we remember the message of this movie and rethink how much stuff we need to be happy. As the story suggested, it’s not much.
The imaginary “Cast Away” island doesn’t have to be only a place of the past; it could also be a picture of the future.