Anemone Guts ... or Strainers in the Tank

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Jun 1, 1998

I have found that any time we (myself included) start our first venture into a new hobby, ambition fills our body, and we feel we can do just about anything.

When I got my first aquarium, I told myself that it was going to be the best aquarium I had ever seen. Why? Because I was going to scrub it weekly, change the water carefully, and keep track of all of the chemical levels in the aquarium regularly. It seemed like such a little list of tasks - something that I would be able to do from now until the end of time. Well, as most of you are aware, time is precious, and soon enough, you are trying to figure out how to do the minimal required maintenance in the shortest amount of time. Just like the first time you burn your hand on a hot stove, sometimes you just have to learn things the hard way.

I do not know of anyone who has not run into at least one of life's lessons when it comes to aquariums. So, you may be wondering where I am going with this. Below you will find a small story about one of Peter Odell's experiences - one of the more painful ones. It is a continuation of the series from Ralph's perspective:

The tank was gloriously balanced; sunshine was streaming in from the nearby windows. The nitrate level was low and algae were just a fleeting memory. My anemone was the size of a dinner plate, fat, healthy and full of energy. It wasn't just any anemone, it was my anemone - a virtual carpet of tentacles which swirled in patterns when the current in the tank was right.

My anemone was happy, I mean really happy. It had worked itself up a rock into the current made by the filtration pumps. As the sunbeam meandered its way across the tank, my anemone stretched to greet the sunbeam. The current began to get stronger and stronger. My anemone still felt confident as it reached for the sunshine. Then it was too late! The current pulled the edge of my anemone into the inlet of the pump! My anemone tried to shrink in terror at the pulling and ripping that was happening to the side of the once healthy anemone.

It couldn't pull back. It remained stretched between the rock and the inlet of the pump. I couldn't do anything to save my poor anemone! My human, the great stuffer of fish food in my mouth saw the anemone stretched into the pump. He came, but it was too late.

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