Aquarium Floaters

A couple of nights ago I dreamt about a new acquaintance for the first time. I was in their home city, visiting a museum that had an aquarium of sorts (places are never fully what they are supposed to be in dreams) and I was having a dismal time. Not only was the city a grey, featureless metropolis, but the museum aquarium was rundown and leaking. In the main foyer, some of the larger fish were able to swim around near the ceiling, seemingly suspended in thin air. There were red coloured tub gurnards (Chelidonichthys lucerna), bulky, medium-sized fish bumbling along in loose shoals like miniature fighter planes. I steered clear of those, for I am a raging icthyophobe, and I remember reading somewhere that a flying gurnard can kill you if it smacks into your head.

My friend decided she wanted to catch some of the fish and guide them back to their tanks. To do so, she brought with her a large hoop surrounded by hanging strips that acted like baffle boards. Using a pole, she raised the hoop towards the shoal, trapping a few of the fish and sweeping them back towards an open tank. She then tried the same on a baby reef manta ray (Mobula alfredi) that was also gliding in circles near the ceiling. The ray, despite being a baby, was too large to contain in the baffle hoop, so she gave up and turned her attention to a small hammerhead shark. I told her that it was a scalloped hammerhead (Sphyrna lewini), as distinguished by the notch in the centre of its 'hammer.' She was likewise unsuccessful in trapping the shark, and we left the museum to go somewhere else.