Still toppling over occasionally because my inner ears have been stuffed with fast-setting concrete, and wheezing like a steam-powered thresher, I went today with my partner, Eunie, for my first job interview since the ’60s. I’d say that my new boss was already predisposed to give me a go, so it was all very cordial and agreeable. I’m now, probationally at least, the (some kind of) Editor of Niugini Blue  and Our Way  magazines. Those outside PNG won’t recognise these titles, but here “in country” they are top-drawer reading material.

I’ve got until the end of the year to prove myself a wunderkind  who will be indispensable and therefore worthy of further consideration. It’s a great opportunity and it helps to replace some of the money that we’ve lost from churches who, for one reason or another, have decided that we’re no longer suitable candidates for financial support. My new employer understands that I will keep my position (mostly hiding in the IT dungeon) at PBT as well as taking on the editorship of the two magazines. I’m going to be a very busy boy, indeed. Stay tuned.

When I got home, I collapsed in a deep stupor for a few hours. I then awoke at about 15:30 and was horrified that I’d not yet written anything to satisfy my compulsion to glorify myself on your computer screen daily. Having no other ideas, I fell back on my favourite disguise – MadDog the Artist.

My three great (okay, only ) ambitions in life were to be (1) an actor, (2) a musician and/or (3) an artist. I’ve failed miserably at all of them, not that it bothers me much. As for the acting, I simply never got a break. I know I could be a movie star, if I could just manage to get discovered. As for two and three, I’m simply too bone lazy to practice enough to gain the skills. I peck at the guitar and keyboard and I sketch stuff which is immediately fed to the office shredder. In short, I’m a dilettante.

So, I ran through my Big Pile of Images looking for pixels to massage. Being temporarily more brain damaged than usual, I hope your expectations of me will not be too high.

This one I call Falling Angels:

You’ve seen it here before is a less jazzy form.

Here’s a couple of different treatments of everybody’s favourite fish, Nemo the Clown Anemonefish, or as he is known to his intimate friends, Amphiprion percula:

The one above has simply been brutally massaged by Noise Ninja Pro, which if nudged in the right direction, can produce some nice artsy effects.

Here I gave the same image a severe beating with the Photoshop Watercolour filter. The effects probably won’t be too noticeable at the thumbnail resolution, so indulge me by clicking to enlarge:

This has always been one of my favourite images. I snapped it many years ago with my first underwater camera, a giant film rig which nearly drowned me on several occasions.

Warming to my work at hand, I found another of my favourites, a very pretty Spincheek Anemonefish known as Premnas biaculeatus  to fellow fish freaks:

I gave it a thorough thrashing with the Photoshop Poster Edges filter.

Here’s another Spinecheek which I smoothed and polished with Noise Ninja Pro:

And here is the same image treated with the Poster Edges filter:I like the “cartoon” effect of the Poster Edges filter.

Here’s another one Poster Edged – three pretty yellow Anthea of some kind. I think that this was my best effort of the couple of hours I spent waiting to fall unconscious once again:

The more I look at that one, the better I like it. I remember being affected the same way by Elke Sommer.

Well, I think I have a couple of minutes to go before I fall out of my chair. Incidentally, I’m posting this from my house, so my war on TELIKOM must be going well while I convalesce. It’s another happy little Clown Anemonefish, Nemo’s brother-in-law, Fredrick:

Freddy also got the Photoshop Watercolour treatment. It seems to agree with him.

And now, forgive me while I pass out.

There’s nothing there that would lead one to believe that Hermit Crabs might be party animals. Nevertheless, have a look at this:

Now, I don’t know what that looks like to you, but to me is seems that three Hermit Crabs (Calcinus minutus)  are getting down to business. However, we mustn’t overlook the possibility that they are “just friends”.

I’m not even going to mention the molasses cookies. I try to keep this a family-friendly site.

This is another Hermit Crab (Dardanus sp.)  who seems to be minding his own business, though he is clearly attempting to appear as ferocious as possible:This little hermit has a pronounced sense of style. Its taste in architecture is impeccable. Its house looks as if it could have been inspired by Frank Loyd Wright. I would not be surprised to find it as the subject of an Ukiyo-e  woodblock print. This ties in nicely to Wright, since he was, aside from being my favourite architect of all time, a dealer in Japanese art.

That’s right, I’m lost in my own head again. Wait until I get my Zippo fired up so I can find my way out of here.

Okay, I’m back now. It’s odd that I don’t remember seeing these beautiful Orange Starfish (Echinaster luzonicus)  before a few days ago:

On Saturday, at the Eel Garden, I saw four of them, including this more rare six-legged individual who seems to have misplaced, or offered up for dinner, two of its legs.

This commoner five legged star person has managed to hold on to all but one leg:Never mind, They will grow back. In fact, if the leg is spat out by the hungry fish which decides it doesn’t like the taste, a whole new starfish will grow from the severed leg.

Well, let us leave the invertebrates to their own devices.

Many anemonefish display the disconcerting habit of staring you right in the eyes. Isn’t this supposed to me the universal sign of challenge or aggression. Here this Orange Finned Anemonefish (Amphiprion chrysopterus) seems to be asking the age-old questions, “Hey! Who you lookin’ at? You lookin’ at me? You want trouble, mate? I got yer trouble!” I like the little nondescript damselfish in the background who is hurrying to flee the scene of impending carnage:As some prefer to be outwardly agressive, other, wiser critters such as this Clown Anemonefish (Amphiprion percula)  spurn the macho tactics and find cover from which to taunt:Above, Nemo, the fish every little kid wants to grow up to be, sasses me from the relative safety of his anemone. “Nyaa na na na na naaaa . . . this is deadly poison . . . you can’t touch me.” Little does Nemo know that this species of anemone will simply feel ilke silk on my fingers and I’ll feel nothing but a slightly creepy chill up my spine.

Never mind. I wouldn’t think of hurting Nemo.

I’d rather take on Chuck Norris with one hand tied behind my back. HUUURRRAAAAA!

Man, I can’t believe that it’s 2010 already. I just got used to writing year numbers beginning with “2″. Now I have to retain my hand to leave out the “00″ in the middle. What a bummer! I’ll probably jump ahead and start writing 20010. Hey wasn’t that a “thirties-something” TV series? No, wait, it’s the ZIP code for Washington, DC. See, I’m aimlessly rambling already. I hope that that’s not an omen.

Anyway, let’s start with things that are not  fish. This is not a fish:

As any fool can see, it’s a spider, a very familiar spider, on a yellow flower. I cannot stop taking pictures of these amusing little spiders. They are certainly prolific. On many days there will be one of these little fellows on nearly every blossom. I suspect that it also has a very specialised hunting technique targeted to insects that feed on and pollinate these flowers. It is obviously an ambush predator, as are many spiders. It does not depend on its web, which you can see if you click to enlarge. The web wraps around the central parts of the flower and may or may not take part in the capture. These spiders eat tiny striped-wing flies on which I have often seen them feeding.

And, this also is not  a fish, though the name implies otherwise:

It’s a Starfish (Linckia multifora)  on the old catamaran at the Eel Garden near Pig Island.

And, neither is this a fish. I got this shot to illustrate that everywhere you look in the sea you find the spiral. It’s one of natures’ most common themes:It is, of course, coral. Specifically, it’s Acropora clathrata.  Now you know. Isn’t that a relief?

Now, these are  fish. This rather disorganised mob of Striped Catfish (Plotosus lineatus)  are regrouping after being startled out of their tiny wits my me attempting to get close enough for a picture:They will shortly resume their normal feeding habit of marching above the sand in a line like soldiers policing up cigarette butts.

And, this is also a fish, the Pixy Hawkfish (Cirrhitichthys oxycephalus):A very pretty fish it is. These look very much more interesting against a dark, blurred background. You can then better see the delicate structure of its dorsal fin, an exercise in excess detail. You can see what I mean in this post featuring the Dwarf Hawkfish, a closely related species. By the way, this is the red variation of the species. The other variation is less colourful.

So, let’s finish up with everybody’s favourite fish – Nemo:Nemo, a Clown Anemonefish (Amphiprion percula)  is here with friends and me today to wish you a very happy New Year.

Now I have to start thinking seriously about my New Year’s Resolution.

If you’ve ever even heard of a salp, I’d be surprised. They are seldom seen by humans who are not intimately involved with the sea, literally submerged in it. While I have seen large specimens on several occasions while diving, I’ve never had my camera with me. So much for luck. To make it worse, Trevor Hattersley recently got a fairly good shot of a salp from his boat:It’s worth a look here and here to see the details of these critters (actually a bunch of critters travelling together – a colonial animal). There are many different kinds. As you can see, this one is almost completely transparent. With just a bit of imagination you can see a hint of the segmentation, if you click to enlarge.

So much for the monster.

I showed you an image of a Coral Grouper (Cephalopholis miniata) yesterday the tail of which I had accidentally amputated in my rush to get the shot. I thought that you might like to see the whole fish. I just happen to have a couple of nice specimen shots from a while back:

I really like this fish. It’s pretty beyond reason. Click on these to have a look at the shading around the caudal fin (tail):That’s a fairly serious fish.

I also have comical fish. Clown fish, in fact. This is the real Clown Anemonefish (Amphiprion percula) – no kidding:Disney did not have to do much to this fish to turn it into Nemo.

For those peculiar folk like me who prefer a specimen shot, here it is:It’s worth clicking on this one to see the incredible violet shading on the edges of the fins, particularly the pectoral.

An now, since I’m in a nutty mood (actually got a couple of things to work correctly at the office today), let me give you the nut’s nemesis, the Squirrelfish, specifically the Blackfin Squirrelfish (Neoniphon opercularis):

This is one of those fish that is easy to overlook when diving. It’s not too flashy and it plays hide-and-seek with a vengeance. However, if you can get a good look at one, you begin to appreciate it.

I’ve been rummaging through my thousands of shots that you’ve never seen. Some of them are not too shabby. Expect a fairly steady diet of fish for a while.

This will probably be my last tattoo. I’m 65 years old. My skin is reptilian from decades in the tropical sun. With eight tattoos already, I’m running out of prime space. However, I’ve been dreaming for years of a very special page that I’d like to add to my bodily journal. I want to proclaim in vivid colour my gratitude for the thousands of hours that I’ve enjoyed with hedonistic ecstasy  in the blessedly warm tropical waters savouring the beauty and excitement of a world that few are ever lucky enough to see. Danger and beauty are the intermingled themes. I have in mind three specific creatures to represent these paradoxically parallel pleasures.

This is (arguably) the most poisonous snake on the planet. It is the Banded Sea Krait (I’m not going to bother with the taxonomic names in this post. You can use the search box if you want to find them elsewhere on Madang – Ples Bilong Mi):Strangely enough, of all deadly snakes, this one is probably the least likely to bite you, unless you are very foolish indeed. I have hovered only a few metres away countless times while watching them feed. All you have to remember is to watch it from the side, not from directly above. When it has to breathe, you do not want to be in its way as it swims to the surface.

This is getting rather too close, but I wanted to capture the stunning colouration of its head:

The next creature holds the middle ground. It is simultaneously dangerous — though hardly deadly — and supremely beautiful. This is the  Spotfin Lionfish:

It has extremely poisonous spines along its back. One would have to be either ignorant or stupid to play with it.

Occupying the opposite end of the hazard spectrum is . . . yes, Nemo, the Clown Anemonefish:

I have not yet decided which of these poses I prefer:

The general plan is to have the Banded Sea Krait wrapping twice around my left forearm so that only its body, the repetitive scaly banding, appears when my arm is hanging at my side, provoking the question, “What is hidden?” If I choose to do so, I can reveal a scene of transcendent beauty by simply lifting my arm to reveal the Yin which balances the Yang. The deadly head of the Krait and its paddle-like tail will rest at peace with the Spotfin and Nemo in the panorama of peace and harmony on my inner forearm.

Now all I have to do is find a Hamiltonian tattoo artist good enough to punch the dream into my wrinkly old skin.

The search is on tomorrow.

When I get up early on a Saturday morning and it looks like this:

I feel as if the world is grinning at me. I grin back.

Here’s some images from a recent Saturday Dive.

If the name on your Birth Certificate was Plagiotremus rhinorrhynchos, I’d feel empathy for you. If you can imagine the sad story of a boy growing up in a very tough neighbourhood with the name of Jan Messersmith, maybe you could appreciate my empathy. I still have scars on my knuckles to attest to the agony. I’ve never forgiven my mother for it. It’s even worse for this little fellow. His nickname is Bluestripped Fangblenny. No wonder that he’s hiding in a hole:

I’ve shown Blennies on Madang – Ples Bilong Mi  here, here, here, and here.

I made it worse for myself when I reached the age of sixty. I decided enough is enough. I’m old enough to decide what I want to be called. So I changed the pronunciation of my given name. Instead of the much-maligned Jan (rhyming with can) I decided I wanted to be called Jan (rhyming with yon – as in “By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes”). As you can imagine, this caused much consternation and no little laughter among my friends. I felt like a clown. I still do. I don’t mind. Speaking of clowns, here’s a Clown Anemonefish (Amphiprion percula):

I showed you another Clown Anemonefish here.

While we’re on Anemonefish, let’s have a couple of more. Try these Clark’s Anemonefish (Amphiprion clarkii):

I have no idea who Clark is. I can only assume it is not Clark Kent. He doesn’t seem the type to have a fish named for him. However, his alter-ego might be proud to have an Amphiprion supermanii.

Hmmm . . . I appear to be drifting. I’m like a teensy-weensy tectonic plate drifting on a molten globe of magmatic thought. I’d better get out of here.

But, before I leave for the day, I’ll show you my favourite of the day. Here’s the darling, shiny, all-too-brilliant Spinecheek Anemonefish (Premnas biaculeatus): (you can find another Spinecheek here.)Would that I were so handsome, but ça ne fait rien.

I’ve been trying to take a little time each day organizing my photographs so that I have some small chance of finding something that I want. If I’d been smart, I would have found a way to organize all my photos as soon as I put them on my computer by keywords.

I tried assigning the keywords “underwater”, “anemone”, and “anemonefish” to the photo below. Adobe Bridge allows you to assign keywords (as many as you like) to each image and then search by keyword. I searched for “anemone” and, sure enough, this photo popped up. The only problem is that I have tens of thousands of photos. Probably half of them or more should simply be deleted. I can already see what I’m going to be doing on during my next vacation time.

As I was going through some photos yesterday, I ran across some old pals. I’d like to introduce you to some of my favourite fish.

These little beauties are obviously Anemonefish. Specifically, these are Spinecheek Anemonefish (Premnas biaculeatus):

The shot above was incredibly lucky. Out of 100 – 300 exposures that I make on an average dive, I feel lucky if a handful are worth processing with Photoshop. I’m joyful if there is one that really makes me grin like an idiot. The frame above was one in a thousand. Everything was copacetic.

Anyone who doesn’t know this little fellow must have been engaged in intense navel contemplation in a cave for the last few years. Yes, it’s everybody’s favourite fish, Nemo. If you’ve not been formally introduced, he is an Anemonefish, specifically a Clown Anemonefish (Amphiprion percula). This Nemo wannabe looks as if he is swimming onto the stage for a screen-test:

Much as I hate to discuss filthy lucre in this carefree space, I must admit that the next photo has enriched the meagre coffers of Clan MadDog more than any other. I have sold this image several times over. It’s been in magazine articles, on the cover of tourist information booklets, and sold as metre-wide wall hangings. Its title is “Buddy.” He will soon feature on one of the dozen Papua New Guinea post cards that I am producing.

Divers call their paired-up fellow diver a buddy, so the name is a natural. Divers are like Nuns, we always travel in pairs.

Meet Buddy, another Anemonefish. Buddy is an example of the Orange Variation of Clark’s Anemonefish (Amphiprion clarkii):

I snagged the next image on The Henry Leith near Wongat Island. One can only describe it as a handsome fish. He displays a certain smug dignity in his tweedy suit. Formally, he’s known as Epinephelus miliaris. He introduces himself with a Bond-like smirk as Grouper, Netfin Grouper:

Soon, I’ll write about the less congenial denizens of our salty, wet neighbourhood – the ‘friends’ that we keep at arm’s length.

We all know people like that. Fish are no different.

You will find other photos of anemonefish on Madang – Ples Bilong Mi here, here, and here.