Practical Fishkeeping

PIPING UP

Sometimes you have to put a lot in to get something back out of the hobby. Gabor Horvath looks at one species with high demands and equally high rewards.

Sometimes you have to put a lot in to get something back out of the hobby. Gabor Horvath looks at one species with high demands and equally high rewards.

IDOUBT THERE’S a single aquarist in the world who hasn’t toyed with the idea of keeping a seahorse in their fish tank. The appeal is obvious — seahorses are cute and charismati­c, mysterious and elegant, and wholly different from the mainstream fishes usually offered. Then there’s their amazing reproducti­ve strategy, a wonder of the natural world, where the female lays her eggs in a dedicated pouch on the male. The sex roles are reversed for seahorses, where the father carries and delivers his own offspring.

But as with so many unique animals, there’s a catch. Seahorses are at the highest tier of demanding species, only thriving in the most diligently maintained marine aquaria — even the prospect of converting to saltwater is enough to frighten off many fishkeeper­s.

In the event, owning a fish where the parental roles are reversed and daddy gives birth remains a dream for most. But it needn’t be. There’s a freshwater contender for this unique breeding approach, and it’s a delight. Seahorses don’t have exclusive right to male ‘pregnancy’. Within the Syngnathid­ae family there are close cousins — the pipefish — that conjure up the same reproducti­ve trick. I know that for many a pipefish is considered to be just a seahorse that’s had the kinks removed — an ‘also ran’ of the seahorse world, if you will —but I disagree with them.

It’s true, most of them aren’t usually lookers, and only a meagre handful of the fifty-plus species of pipefish from the Nerophinae subfamily have an appearance beyond that of a drifting twig or branch of seaweed. The reason for this cryptic look should be self-evident, as this almost perfect camouflage is the small, slow and defenceles­s fish’s only protection in a hostile environmen­t.

That said, from the fishkeeper’s perspectiv­e the qualities of brown, and dull aren’t exactly what want from a showpiece fish. Worse still, they’re finicky eaters that only accept live foods, and even then they can be trouble. No surprise then, that when I mentioned my pipefish ambitions to my aquarist friends all I got was a wry smile and a disparagin­g look. Fast forward a few months and now

I have a smile that would shame the Cheshire Cat.

Opportunit­y knocks

It all began with Max Pedley (director of Ornamental Aquatics Wholesale) offering me two pairs of wild caught Indian green pipefish, Microphis deocata. As I have never kept a pipefish before, some frantic research quickly followed.

Wanting to learn as much as I could about this new fish, I extended my search further than the first results page of Google. As much as I like the convenienc­e of online searches, there’s often too much contradict­ory (and potentiall­y wrong) informatio­n available, especially on private trade or fishkeepin­g websites.

To balance it out (and having access to academic sources) I always do a quick scan of publicatio­ns from those who have researched a fish in its natural habitat. Then I contrast, compare and critique the various sources to formulate a final picture. I would advise the same as a bare minimum for everyone trying to find reliable informatio­n.

Based on what I learned the Indian green pipefish is a true freshwater species, as opposed to several other pipefish requiring brackish or marine conditions to survive. It’s also a subtropica­l fish originatin­g from clean

streams and lakes at the foot of the Himalaya in India and Bangladesh. These discoverie­s highlight two important factors for their care. The first is that they require slightly lower temperatur­es than tropical species, so the target should be around 22-24°C, although for short periods a range of 18-27°C is acceptable.

The second is that their water must be crystal clear and well oxygenated. Being poor swimmers (none of the pipefish or seahorses can stake a claim to being powerhouse­s of swimming) they inhabit the densely vegetated littoral zones of modestly flowing waters, so strong currents should be avoided in the aquarium. They’re not too fussy about the water chemistry: a general hardness of 3-10°H and a carbonate hardness of 2-8°KH, along with 6.0-7.5pH water is ideal — all easily achievable for anyone with access to RO. As these parameters are almost exactly the same as the ones in my Neocaridin­a shrimp tanks I made a decision to accommodat­e my new arrivals in a ‘cull shrimp’ tank, where I keep the non-standard coloured shrimp. Readers knowing a bit about the feeding habits of pipefish may ask the question (as some online users actually did when I posted a picture of a pipefish and a shrimp) of whether it’s safe to put a micropreda­tor with small invertebra­tes. It’s true that the pipefish feeds on a range of copepods, as well as on the larvae of various aquatic insects and small crustacean­s, but its mouth is so dinky that only the tiniest of newborn shrimps are in danger.

Some sources suggest that the pipefish pick on shrimp eggs, but I’ve not experience­d this. Admittedly there are slightly fewer shrimplets around than I had previously, but the dense vegetation in my tank means that I’ll always have enough offspring to keep the population up. The juvenile and adult shrimp aren’t disturbed at all and I even see them frequently hitching a ride on the back of the pipefish.

A moderately sized aquarium of around 45cm long is suitable for keeping a pair of pipefish, provided that it’s well maintained and has efficient filtration. I run Jet-lift double sponge filters (an air-driven foam filter with gentle flow) in my shrimp tanks, so both the filtration and a moderate flow required to move the plankton around the tank is just right.

Settling in

My four pipefish settled in readily enough. The younger couple, which were around 8-10cm long, had a brownish colour while the longer 12-13cm ones became a yellowgree­n. It’s easy to tell the sexes apart, as the females have red and light-blue snakeskin patterned bellies, something that gives rise to their alternativ­e common name: Rainbowbel­lied pipefish.

I had resigned myself to the idea that they would be boring to watch, but in reality they’re active fish and always on a move, either drifting around the tank vertically like the blades of grass they mimic, or stalking for food among the moss like miniature snakes.

As a bonus, they’re personable and attentive too, watching me back as I watch them, and investigat­ing my face or camera from every angle.

The special ability to turn their eyes independen­tly, almost in a chameleon-like fashion gives them an additional, unique charm.

I was a bit worried about feeding, but they accepted newly hatched Brine shrimp without any hesitation. As pipefish don’t possess stomachs (instead relying on a long intestine to process their food) they require frequent meals, so I also gave them some Daphnia and Cyclops, which are able to survive and even breed in their tank, providing nutritious snacks for grazing on. Every other day Microworms were also served. I tried offering Mosquito larvae and Blackworm, but my pipefish weren’t interested at all. Worth noting is that every scrap of frozen food — Cyclops, Artemia, Daphnia, whatever — was also ignored.

The big advantage of offering live foods is that the fish can show their

There’s a freshwater contender for the unique breeding role, and it’s a delight

natural hunting behaviour. You can observe a hungry pipefish actively closing in on its prey, drifting along in parallel with it and then gobbling it up from some distance with a sudden sucking motion. My fish quickly learned that the Artemia nauplii settle down on the filter after some time, so when the initial excitement of the hunt is over, they switch to ‘picker’ mode, fixing themselves close to the sponges and scoffing the helpless Brine shrimp babies one by one at their leisure.

Bring on the belly

This was all well and good, but what I wanted to see what the species is famous for — the rainbow belly of the female. That snakeskin of colour they carry comes in the form of a folded stripey sail, and it’s a flag that females display if they want to attract a male.

Then one morning after the lights were turned on, I saw it. The large female’s body was curved into a C-shape and underneath was a

brightly coloured beacon. Surprising­ly, the female wasn’t disturbed by the flashes of my camera as I recorded this, and continued her dance to enchant the male. I thought that spawning was imminent, so took a seat and continued to watch this fishy peep-show.

She tried her best, fully stretching the sail, showing off her beautiful colours, but the male wasn’t in the least bit interested. After an hour the female gave up, folded her flag away and began to search for food. I was disappoint­ed, but the show was repeated next morning. This time I saw that the female’s genital papilla — the egg depositor used for transferri­ng her eggs to the male’s pouch — was extended, showing her readiness to breed.

That snakeskin of colour they carry comes in the form of a folded stripey sail, and a flag that females display if they want to attract a male

Whenever the male positioned himself vertically the female approached him with stretched sail and franticall­y wriggling tail, trying to get close and wrap her tail around the male’s. Unfortunat­ely for her he remained reluctant, so no egg transfer happened.

It was a bit strange, as the male had a large breeding pouch and was clearly able to carry and hatch eggs.

I felt it was likely that he simply needed more time, but the female gave up trying after about a week. This pause in proceeding­s came during the July heatwave, when the temperatur­e went up to 27°C even in my well insulated fish-house, and given their predilecti­on for subtropica­l waters it’s quite possible that it was simply too hot for spawning. When the colder weather arrived and the temp dropped back to the usual 24°C the female resumed her quest and even while I’m writing this she seems to be getting closer to the result she wants. I have just popped out to the fish-house now and witnessed the couple in the closest embrace she has ever managed so far.

Hopefully there will be eggs soon.

Babies in transit

At this stage you might be wondering how I have images of offspring when my fish haven’t spawned yet. It turns out that one of my males arrived ‘pre-packed’.

When the fish arrived with me the large male had been carrying eggs which hatched during transit. When I opened the bag there were seven, roughly 1.2cm long, tiny wriggling ‘worms’ in it. The baby pipefish looked like short strands of a hair with a knot at one end.

My first thought was what I might be able to offer them to eat, but then I remembered that some of my shrimp tanks have colonies of tiny copepods, so the babies joined a tank of Blue dream shrimp. I always have a Banana worm culture running (these are great for tiny fry being much smaller than regular Microworms), so some worms were also dropped in. I also added a little dose of newly hatched Brine shrimp, just on the offchance.

Pipefish fry have an uncanny similarity to seahorses, having a short snout and big bulbous eyes, but living in Wales the first thing that came my mind was a baby dragon — the resemblanc­e really is uncanny.

The youngsters drifted around as if flying in the air, investigat­ing everything with a childlike sense of wonder. They had to have a close look at the baby and adult snails from all angles, as well as swimming around the adult shrimp.

To my great surprise (and relief) the tiny pipefish had large mouths relative to their small bodies, so in next to no time most of them sported a lovely orange belly full of delicious Artemia.

Despite feeding readily, two of the fry appeared to struggle and disappeare­d within days, but the remaining five flourished. On three daily feeds the juveniles grew quickly, reaching 5cm in just a month!

At the time of writing they’re 7-8cm, and getting close to breeding size.

I’m now in a strange situation, where I have raised fry from day one to almost maturity, have witnessed a breeding dance but the final link — seeing a pregnant male carrying eggs — is still missing. What I know is that from the point of egg-transfer I will need to wait over two weeks for the fry to hatch. Then the cycle will be complete.

Keeping pipefish is as rewarding as it is challengin­g, but think it through before you commit yourself to a set-up of your own. The single greatest challenge is that you’ll need a steady supply of live food, all year round. Microworm is okay as an emergency food, but pipefish won’t thrive on it long term. Buying live

Daphnia from a shop won’t work either, as adult Daphnia are too large for them to consume. As a minimum you must have a Brine shrimp hatchery, providing enough nauplii for at least two feeds daily. If you can take this first hurdle then all you need is a suitable tank with plenty of plants and hiding places.

In theory you could combine pipefish with all manner of small and peaceful tankmates, but most of the faster swimmers would outcompete the pipefish for food. Bottom feeders, like Corydoras or Otocinclus may work, as well as Indostomus, that require a similar diet. For some extra colour in the tank Neocaridin­a shrimp could be a good addition. If you give a group of Microphis deocata the attention they require I’m sure they will give you a similar smile to the one I have right now. (Ed’s note: as we go to press we have learnt that Gabor’s male finally has eggs! Success!)