Family

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THE YELLOW-TAILED SHRIMP SKATE

A certain day, not long ago, an old friend did journey across much of Africa to pay me a visit. With him came his lovely bride and their two precious precocious offspring. Since the land from whence they had come was most sparse and devoid of distractions for young, inquiring minds and the city in which I dwell and to which they had sojourned was full of such things, we did set out plans to amuse the young learners.

One such outing was arranged for the new aquarium, U-Shaka Marine World by name, which was newly opened to draw diverse tourists (and their money) to the beachside of our fair city. While the price of this new attraction was a handsome sum per person, it was holiday time for the family and the sacrifice was paid.

Now within U-Shaka were many and sundry establishments designed to assist tourists in the spending of their cash. We meandered some and beheld with our eyes many splendid items, but our feet propelled us toward the fish. The construct of the aquarium begins with a large, forlorn steamer which can no longer navigate the seas. Upon entering and descending many passageways and steps, the wonders of the undersea world were before us to behold, so we beheld them.

Through glass walls on both sides of our journey we beheld the marvels of marine life. While the construct was that of a ships belly, the view was that of an ocean bottom. From floor to ceiling we were treated to the sights of fish and the eyes of both young and old alike did take it all in with wide open amazement. Types and shapes, names and stories of fish filled our senses as we walked along passageway after passageway, full of glass-lined walls of wonderment. We paused, we pointed, we laughed and we stood in awed silence.

But alas, in the midst of all the natural beauty, my mind did seek out and revert to the question of meaning. And there it was. In the center of one viewing chamber had been constructed a special tank. It was standing by itself, from bottom to top about one-half meter taller than I. It was round and I took some eight paces to circumnavigate it, all the time staring at the marvel within.

Hundreds of fish, small, no larger than my index finger, all swimming together. Round and round together. All going from right to left, from floor to ceiling. Swimming the perimeter of the tank, round and round, as if in ordered formation. No one fish going up or down. None were cutting across the circle. All were going round and round in the same direction. All save one lone, tiny fish.

I spotted him after a few seconds of gazing. One lone fish swimming left to right. This was most amazing to me as I watched. I pointed it out to my younger companions for their edification. I asked, “Whet do you think of a fish who swims against the current, contrary to the pack as it were?”

As we watched, hundreds circling one way and a single intrepid traveller going the opposite, we wondered. Why would none join him? Every other fish continued on, one like the other. The one “lone ranger” fish was looking each in the eye as it swam by in the opposite direction.
I was so taken by this curiosity that I sought out an attendant and inquired as to the name of such fish that swim all in formation round and round. I was given the name “Yellow-tailed Shrimp Skate”, a name which I shall not easily forget.

Now with such a display as was around us my shorter companions were soon departed from me in search of more interesting waters. I watched on, however, at my newfound friends. As I watched, to my amazement, my lone rebel fish turned tail. As if saying, “I’ve had enough”, it simply flicked fin and got back in line with the rest. I lost it in the pack quickly. It was no longer a standout. I could not pick it out from the rest. It had resumed in swimming nose to tail with all of the others.

My companions and I left that area and continued our journey through the astounding tanks and visual scenes to the finish.

As I walked however, I pondered over my Shrimp Skate fish friends. I thought of my Master who entered an ocean of humanity all swimming in the same direction. I saw Him swimming against the pack, looking them in the eye as it were, and challenging their way of life. And I thought about how all who follow Him must swim against the pack. How all of His disciples must look into the eyes of those going in the opposite direction. And I realized that there is a great temptation to turn tail, go along with the crowd, and be like everyone else swimming round and round ‘til death do depart us.
And I had to ask myself, “What kind of fish am I?”

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