On the lighter side of the news today, it is my pleasure to present to you New Zealand’s Fish of the Year for 2025: the Blobfish.

In 2013, it was dubbed the world’s ugliest animal and installed as mascot for the Ugly Animal Preservation Society.

(I’m not sure I entirely agree with the “ugliest” description, having also just found this photo of a Naked Mole Rat. But I suppose it’s all subjective.)

Anyway, we’re talking about fish, not rodents. So, back to The Blob From Beneath the Sea.

Apparently, when in its natural habitat some 2,000-4,000 feet (600-1,200 meters) underwater, where the pressure is 60 to 120 times greater than at sea level, it takes on the recognizable shape of a fish, approximately 12 inches (30 cm.) in length. But because it is basically a gelatinous mass with very little muscle, at sea level it becomes . . . well . . . a blob.

And here is a rare photo of the only known blobfish in captivity, dubbed simply “Bob” . . . apparently taken on a day when he has chosen not to shave. Actually, he reminds me a bit of a blind date from my much younger days, whom I had chosen to banish from memory until I laid eyes on Bob . . . but that’s a whole other issue, and I’ll deal with it.

I have no idea why the lovely people of New Zealand decided to elect a Fish of the Year, but I suspect it’s a natural outgrowth of their love and respect for nature, as they also have a Bird of the Year event. And they’re quite passionate about the whole thing.

In this year’s contest, second place was awarded to the orange roughy, a deep-sea fish in the slimehead family, known for the mucous canals on their heads. (Oh . . . yecchhh!)

According to Kim Jones, co-director of the Mountains to Sea Conservation Trust, it was “a battle of the deep sea forget-me-nots . . . a battle of two quirky deep sea critters, with the blobfish’s unconventional beauty helping get voters over the line.” [Koh Ewe, BBC News, March 19, 2025.]

Proving, once again, that “beauty” truly is in the eye of the beholder.

Anyway, it seems that a couple of local radio station hosts — Sarah Gandy and Paul Flynn — began a campaign for the blobfish, telling listeners that “We need the blobfish to win.”

And when it did emerge victorious, Gandy and Flynn had this to say:

“The blobfish had been sitting patiently on the ocean floor, mouth open waiting for the next mollusc [sic] to come through to eat. He has been bullied his whole life and we thought, ‘Stuff this, it’s time for the blobfish to have his moment in the sun,’ and what a glorious moment it is!” [Id.]

I’m not sure what an actual moment in the sun would do to the deep-water blob’s anatomy, but they were obviously speaking rhetorically. And I’m very happy for them, and for all of the Blobsters in New Zealand.

*. *. *

And while writing this, I was reminded of an experience of my own with what I had — until now — considered the world’s ugliest fish: the Arctic Char.

I realize that this guy doesn’t hold a candle to Bob the Blob in the ugliness department. But try to picture it dead, covered head-to-tail in coarse salt and hot off the grill, staring sightlessly up from a platter with a garnish of lemon slices and sprigs of parsley. Take it from me, it ain’t a pretty sight.

I was dining with a group in a lovely seafood restaurant in downtown Washington, D.C. a number of years ago, when I saw something on the menu that was entirely new to me: Arctic Char. I asked the waiter what it was, and he described a firm-fleshed fish, pink in color, similar to salmon but milder. Being a salmon lover, I immediately ordered it, picturing a lovely grilled fillet bathed in a lemon-butter sauce.

When our orders arrived, I was engaged in conversation with the person seated to my right as the waiter placed my serving in front of me from the left. I turned to look at the plate, and — as is my unfortunate tendency — spontaneously blurted out without thinking:

“Holy shit! What the hell is that??!!!”

And the whole restaurant went silent.

Dead silent.

As I tried to compose myself, muttering “Sorry,” I took in the view in front of me of the aforedescribed monstrosity . . . which appeared to be daring me to attack it with a knife and fork. And all I could think was that it would probably take a bite out of my arm if I tried.

I was rescued by the quick-thinking waiter, who removed the platter and — thank the merciful gods — began very skillfully to behead, skin and debone the beast, finally presenting me with the fillet I had originally anticipated.

I never understood why I first had to undergo shock treatment, but I can tell you that that creature from the Blue Lagoon (or wherever) was worth it. It turned out to be one of the most delicious — and memorable — meals I have ever eaten.

And everyone in the restaurant had a story to tell at work the next day about the crazy lady with the uncontrolled tongue, and the ugliest fish they’d ever seen.

*. *. *

Which brings me back to the even uglier subject of this monologue: Bob. In my research today, I have not seen a single mention of whether the blobfish is actually edible by humans. I doubt it, considering its inconvenient location and the descriptions of its “gelatinous mass.”

And frankly, I hope it isn’t. With all of the bullying to which it has been subjected, it deserves — at the very least — to be left in peace.

So enjoy your year of reign as the best in show, Bob. You’ve earned it.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
3/19/25