D: The boys

Chapter 2

The Boys

The sun shone warmly upon the shallow waters surrounding the reef. It
had begun its great spawning and the surface of the sea was covered in
caramel coloured eggs and spermatozoa, the ejaculate of this giant,
living creature the 'Great Barrier Reef'. The soap scum like coating
filtered and softened the light that penetrated down to the shallow
seabed. Skiff and his mates were cruising. They were bored and looking
to create some mischief.

'Lets go see 'Ole toothless'' ventured Skiff. 'It's been ages since we
annoyed that foul breathed old bugger'.

The others shimmered in agreement and moving as one they jetted off to
find the lair of this old and scarred Masked Moray eel. These juveniles
were a little naive, full of bluff and bluster. The old Moray could eat
each one of them given half a chance and still have room for a coral
trout or two. But these boys didn't intend on giving anybody a chance,
no way in hell. They still held respect for the jaws of steel of this
tough old eel. Cruising along, winding their way through the coral
corridors between the patch reefs, the boys jostled and signalled each
other with brilliant flashes. Their chromatophores, the pigment sacks
found in the cuttlefish skin, were racing through combinations of
colours in the process of their communication, a truly magnificent and
awe-inspiring manipulation of skin pigment.

'I am going to twist that 'gnarly ole goat fish' into a knot and stick
a shell up his nose' ventured Skiff, one of the larger fellas,
notorious for his temerity and daring.

The juveniles' minds played around with the amusing image and each saw
himself as a great tamer of the ferocious, ugly beast. Of course this
was pure fantasy on Skiffs' part. Cuttlefish are renowned for their
imaginations. The moray was greatly feared and, apart from this
irreverent bunch, a well respected predator of the reef. 'Ole
toothless' was well known to the community. His lair was marked and
avoided. 'Ole toothless', as the name implies, was getting on in age
however. He had been living on the seaward side of the reef for as long
as the community had existed, and community losses to his appetite had
diminished commensurate to the time he had existed amongst them. In his
prime 'ole toothless' managed to take down a member of the community
every other week or so. He benefited from a network of crevices and
tunnels that riddled the coral and provided him with a myriad of hiding
spots for his lightning strikes These days, it was a dopey unsuspecting
crustacean that would fall into his creaking, arthritic clutches, or a
passing fish unaware of his silently swaying form hidden inside his
lair, waiting to pounce and tear.

The group rounded a large stand of vivid red and purple coral blooms
and came to a halt. Hovering in place, the horizontal fins edging their
mantles, like lacy frilled edgings on grandmas cushion covers, were
waving up and down like oscillations on a frequency spectrum. Nervously
they observed the shadowy depths beneath a ledge at the base of the
coral. The opening was surrounded by macroline coral, like a marine
market garden planted with clusters of lettuces with leaves of red,
green and white. Littering the bottom at the mouth of the opening were
the skeletal remains of a small unfortunate grouper and several
carapaces of the delicious painted lobster, the remanents of past
feasting.

'Not much of a housekeeper', quipped Skiff. 'Could be a position
available for you Bombo? Housekeeper to 'ole toothless'. You realize
you would have to groom him as well?' he taunted. The others tittered
at this and Bombo shuddered at the thought of having to pick the
parasites from the leather tough hide of the old devil.

So, just what did these boys plan to do? The trick here was to tempt
ole toothless to poke his gnarled old head outside of his lair. This
was to be done by a couple of the boys involving themselves in a bit of
horseplay out in front of the eel's lair. The decoys would drift
towards the mouth of the lair and drift back out again, maintaining a
distance out of the reach of the poor old eel, all the while appearing
to be involved in some game that had them appearing to be totally
unaware of 'ole toothless' presence. Meanwhile, the rest of the boys
would make their way discreetly to a position above the eel's lair to
execute the coup de grass.

To select who was to act as bait, the boys played an ancient cephalopod
game of colour racing. They were to race through set patterns and
colour changes and then repeat the changes but in the reverse order.
The order of changes was well known to these cuttlefish that had
learned it from an early age, just as a chemist memorises the Table of
Elements or the martial artist memorises his patterns. This game is a
truly beautiful site to behold. These cuttlefish are capable of some
dramatic camouflage, a real kaleidoscope, and at the same time very
confusing to prospective predators.

'On your mark, get set, GO!!!' signalled Skiff. Immediately the boys
raced through midnight black and royal blue, crimson red through to
dark greens, a dazzling display of wonderful colour increasingly
becoming lighter they became pale blues, pinks, and yellows until they
achieved a pearly translucence. Mottles and stripes, spots and spikes,
patterns almost alien in design riddled their bodies. Their
chromatophores reacted with lightning speed. It all appeared as a
gorgeous shimmer to the observer, a natural wonder of this beautiful
underwater world. To the observer this was a thing of wonderment.
Nowhere on earth can a similar display of colour and pattern be seen.
The number of hues was enormous, many never seen on mankind's
paintbrushes. Even the most advanced computer produced graphics would
have their work cut out imitating this lot. But the patterns were set
in order and any colour or pattern displayed out of turn immediately
disqualified the offending cuttlefish. Almost as one they returned back
to the camouflage of their present background but were eyeing each
other to see who were the last to get there.

'Damn, not again' whined Bombo.
'Looks like Bombo and Warto this time fellas' said Skiff.
'Rubbish, I completed the pattern before Shinny' argued Warto.

Now ensued a vigorous discussion on who was to partner Bombo as the
bait.

A squirrel fish, normally a nocturnal species, was tempted by the
commotion to poke his head out from amongst a thick luxurious growth of
pink coralline algae and watched inquisitively as the boys began to
bicker amongst themselves. His mate soon joined him as the bickering
grew more heated and they continued to watch the antics like a couple
of primary school children watching a playground scuffle. There bodies
bumped gently against each other as they swayed in the current and
continued to watch the goings on unnoticed.

Warto and Shinny were wrestling, slapping at each other's mantles and
interlocking tentacles, each trying to lock up the other in an
unbreakable hold and nip each other with their beaks. The others egged
them on enjoying the little melee. Around and around they whirled
searching for a secure grip, the others formed a circle around them and
flashed encouragement. Eventually Skiff jumped in and pulled them
apart.

'Right now, that's enough. Warto, it is you and Bombo, OK'

"Humph' grumbled Warto. 'Not fair'. Not daring any further grumblings.
What Skiff said was law amongst this crew.

'It's as fair as it is going to get. Save your energy for 'Ole
Toothless' said Skiff. 'Now you guys wait right here while we position
ourselves'.

Almost climbing over one another in their eagerness to get there, the
rest of the gang swam off. Back tracking 20 metres, the boys shot up to
the top of the reef wall and wound their way back through trenches
dissecting the top of the reef till they were in position amongst a
group of rocks directly above the mouth of the lair.

Cruising along the top of the reef, stopping every now and then to feel
around in any inviting crevice or just to watch the goings on amongst
the characters that made this portion of the reef their home, Grech was
feeling good. The water was sooo warm and he was off exploring. Could
life get any better?

'Well, the addition of a meal of lobster certainly wouldn't hurt', he
thought wistfully.

With one tentacle feeling about under a ledge beneath a bloom of @$@$
coral, out of the corner of his enormous eye, Grech spotted the small
group of cuttlefish come sailing over the lip of the reef and down into
a channel that dissected the coral garden. They shot along it, taking
the sharp twists and turns with ease. So fast and fluid, Grech had to
admit they were great to watch.

'Hmm, I wonder where they are off to in such a hurry', thought
Grech.

For as far back as anyone could recall there have existed a healthy
rivalry between these two orders of the class, cephalopoda. Cuttlefish
had always believed that they were a cut above the comparatively slow
moving almost ponderous octopus. The cuttlefish was definitely more
mobile, and it could be said that their camouflage display more
spectacular, yet the octopus was much hardier and practical, with a
healthy dose of common sense and a great sense of the ridiculous. I
suppose you could say that the octopus was a bit more grounded than the
cuttlefish. But essentially they were the same; they just could never
admit it!

Grech left his position and glided off in the direction taken by the
group of young cuttlefish. Carefully he moved along the surface of the
reef till he spotted the group of 4 cuttlefish huddled together,
straining and grunting near the edge of reef wall. Their mantles,
pressed up against softball-sized rock, were bent back at right angles,
each looking for the entire world like broken noses with
tentacles.

'Weaklings' thought Grech.

'Two six heeeave&;#8230;. two six heeave' flashed Skiff. Little by
little they shifted the small boulder till it was poised near the edge
of the reef wall.

'What on earth are those fancy pants up to?' thought Grech.

Like a brown ghost Grech slid over to the edge of the drop off and
looked down at the area directly in front of the cuttlefishes and their
rock and saw Bombo and Warto floating beneath a small bombora and
nervously bobbing up and down staring up at their mates'.

Skiff rose up above the small boulder and flashed for Bombo and Warto
to begin the game.

Side by side, Bombo and Warto approached the mouth of the cavern. When
they got as close as they dare both began to swim a crazy pattern. They
began to chase each other's tail. Jetting in a figure of 8 the boys
spun around and around whirling in a tight configuration all within a
couple of feet from the cave entrance. A rather bizarre spectacle. Just
like a couple of kids chasing each other around a sandpit. Little heads
poked out curiously from the reef and from amongst some of the soft
corals to observe the crazy antics of these two cuttlefish. Frequently
the pair glanced into the shadows of the cavern, straining to catch a
glimpse of ole toothless. This went on for a minute or two when
suddenly Bombo came to an abrupt halt. Warto, unable to pull up in time
ran smack bang mantle first into his buddy. In a tumble of tentacles
they dropped to the bottom.

'Bombo you bottom-feeder' chortled Warto while rubbing his mantle. 'Why
did you stop?'
'Quick, move back' signaled Bombo.

Both boys jetted back a couple of feet and stared intently into the
darkness of the cave. In the deepest recesses of the cave, a black
shape appeared, swaying slowly from side to side.

'It's him' signaled Warto. The rest of the crew on top of the reef wall
began to buzz with excitement at Wartos' flash. 'Right, let's see how
interested we can get this old worm. Lets do it
Bombo&;#8230;go!'

Once more Warto and Bombo swam to the mouth of the cave and began the
same crazy antics, edging in a bit closer and then moving further out.
Teasingly they moved to a point almost beneath the over hang and with
lightning speed moved back out into the open.

'He's getting curious' flashed Bombo while he and Warto continued to
behave like a couple of whirling dervishes.

The Masked-Moray watched the goings on between the two cuttlefish with
interest. Something told him to be careful. If it is possible for a
Moray eel to experience dejavu then that's what had his little mind in
a spin right now. Not the smartest creature on the reef and a mind
enfeebled by old age, 'Ole Toothless' had already forgotten that this
little scene had been played out a number of times before in front of
his lair. Unfortunately for 'ole toothless', the need for a feed
cancelled out any other considerations.

Slowly 'ole toothless' edged further out from the dark recesses and
Bombo and Warto could make out a hungry glimmer in his dead black eyes.
The masked moray had his mind on an easy meal of cuttlefish
flesh.

'Well look what I got here. Home delivery!'

Bit by bit, ole toothless snaked and swayed his way towards the mouth
of his lair. Bombo and Warto continued their demented dance,
alternately drifting in towards the cavern and then back out of reach
again. Now Bombo and Warto were able to make out the markings on 'ole
toothless' thick skin. A chocolate brown patch ran down from his eye to
the back corner of his mouth, the trademark of all adult Masked Morays.
From here, the further out the eel advanced the further away the boys
stayed. 'Ole toothless', jaws akimbo, displayed the gaps in his snaggle
teeth, which were angled backwards to ensure that any prey unfortunate
enough to find itself caught can move one way and one way only. That
way being 'down the hatch'! Even the inside of his mouth was
camouflaged. It was obvious to both Bombo and Warto that 'ole
toothless' still had a tooth or two in that 'smashed crab' ugly head of
his as he gave Bombo and Warto a 'Lil Bo' peep straight down the ugly
black gullet of a hungry old eel. Both shuddered involuntarily.

'He is almost out' signaled Warto to the gang congregated around the
boulder perched on the reef wall above 'Ole Toothless' lair. 'Just a
little further&;#8230;'.

The rest of the gang saw Warto signal and clustered about the boulder
leant in and put their combined weight into it. The boulder rolled over
an inch and stopped dead, jammed against the lip of a giant clam
clinging to the edge of the reef wall. It would go no further. The boys
began to colour crimson with effort.

'Push, push you useless jellyfish!' urged Skiff. But the boulder would
not budge.

Warto and Bombo began to tire. They could not keep these mad antics up
much longer and 'ole toothless' was just about out as far as he would
go.

'Hurry up' signed Warto to the grunting groaning boys up above. 'He
won't stay interested for much longer'.

Unbeknown to the Warto and Bombo, an ugly, blunt snout poked out from
under the crevice at the side of the lair where the overhang angled
down to run just above the sand and grit at the base of the reef wall.
Another eel. This younger female had only recently joined 'ole
toothless' in his lair and was amazed to see the odd behaviour being
displayed by these normally shy cuttlefish right here in their own
front yard. Slowly her head snaked out and she found herself only a
couple of feet from the wrestling pair. Her jaws opened to taste the
current flowing past her head and her hard brutal gaze was fixed on the
two cuttlefish entangled in one another's tentacles. She cautiously
moved forward, bit by bit she edged into a position from which she
could strike. Bombo and Warto with one eye on the gang above and one
eye on old 'toothless were totally unaware of this new and deadly
threat.

Grech saw the snout of the female moray as soon as it appeared from
below the ledge. A tremor of fear and loathing rippled through his soft
body that paled in fear. Moray and octopus are mortal enemies.
Encounters between these two reef dwellers are commonplace. Morays' and
occis' both choose the same types of holes and crevices in the reef in
which to make their homes. Morays sniff and probe around inside these
dark recesses and when they pick up the scent of the octopus they close
in on it and surprise the octopus with their bear trap like jaws.
Fastening on to the soft rubbery octopus they tear and chomp the tasty,
delicate flesh and it is a lucky octopus indeed that escapes these
encounters with their life.

'They don't see it' thought Grech in alarm. Grech flashed a warning,
but both Bombo and Warto were concentrating on 'ole toothless' and the
rest of the boys were still struggling to dislodge the boulder jammed
against the lip of that giant poised on the edge of the reef
wall.

'I have to warn them' thought Grech as he shot up clear of the reef,
his chromatophores flashing urgently from brown to red, brown to red.
Still, the cuttlefish were so engrossed in their own tasks no one
noticed his frantic efforts at getting their attention.

Seeing the window of opportunity for their prank coming to a close,
Skiff zipped around to the front of the boulder with his back to the
edge he wrapped his tentacles around the boulder and tried with all his
three hearts to drag the boulder over the top of himself and over the
edge.

'OK fellas, it is now or never&;#8230;. heeeave'

With three concerted pushes and a large pull from Skiff, the boulder
shifted from its wedged position in the partially open lips of the
giant clam and rolled straight over the top of a momentarily flattened
Skiff and sailed over the edge of the drop off. Skiff picked himself up
of the reef and together with the three others hovered over the edge of
the reef wall to watch the results.

[The following needs a BIG shake up and trim down. Sentences are clumsy
and stilted. There is a lot to be said here and it needs some
style]

Aware of the imminent attack that faced the two whirling cuttlefish,
Grech, against all natural impulses, not to mention traditional octopus
common sense, spun around and dived head first down towards Bombo and
Warto. At the same time the rock began its fall and the female masked
moray struck. Grech flew pass the rock a split second before it crowned
'ole toothless' and just as the female's jaws clamped down on the
tentacles of Warto. Warto squealed and ejaculated his ink. Bombo looked
over in horror to see two of Wartos' tentacles disappearing into the
mouth of the female moray. In a cloud of his own ink Bombo bolted
without so much as a backward glance. Meanwhile, with 'Ole toothless'
laying dazed on the sea bed, little star fish dancing about in his
field of vision, the female, smug as a cat that got the cream, began to
shake Warto from side to side. She got no further than one quick shake
before Grech was upon her. Grech, after having speared through the
combined ink cloud of both Warto and Bombo into the fracas, flared at
the last moment and dropped beak first, tentacles spread, directly
behind the head of the female eel. Grech began to wrap himself around
the slippery she-devil. His suckers seeking and sticking. In surprise,
the eel let go her grip on Warto and began to thrash from side to side.
Grech held on like a broncobuster and began biting into the flesh of
the eel directly behind her head whilst edging forward bit by bit to
muzzle the frantic fish with his strong sticky tentacles. Warto zoomed
off in agony to join Bombo who had sought sanctuary beneath a large
brain coral. Grech had her in a wonderful headlock, a move any wrestler
would be very proud of. The eel could not open her mouth and so was
deprived of the flow of oxygenated water over her spiral gills located
inside her mouth to the back and sides of his throat. She was furious.
Now she was completely outside her lair in the open, flopping around
like a fish out of water and Grech was riding her. In the way of all
morays, the female slipped her tail into a knot and began to work that
knot up the length of her body towards her head in order to dislodge
her unwanted hitchhiker.

Grech began to tire. He knew he would soon have to let go. His grip was
difficult to maintain due to the thin film of protective mucous
secreted from the skin of the eel. His suckers struggled to find
purchase on the tough, leathery hide. 'Ouch'. In her desperation the
female Moray flipped over onto her back and began to slap Grech into
the shell and grit at the bottom of the reef wall. Realizing he could
not hold on for much longer and feeling the coil of eel flesh pushing
up behind him trying to force him forward, Grech disengaged himself
from the eel and jetted out into open water well away from where the
female Moray continued to writhe and wriggle. So intent on shaking off
her unwanted hitchhiker, it took her several moments to realize he was
no longer there. When she finally stopped her frenetic dance, she
looked about her sheepishly, as though caught picking her nose, and
slunk off back to her lair to nurse her wounded ego alongside 'Ole
Toothless' who had retreated back inside his lair upon regaining his
senses.

Grech hovered in place. Shaking all over, not quite believing he had
just done what he did. His flesh was white and his tentacles ached. He
had just tackled a Moray and made it away in one piece.

'Damn, I am now a true octopus warrior, a legend in my own reef.' He
checked himself all over, shook out his tentacles one by one, just to
make sure all was OK.

In wide-eyed wonder the gang of cuttlefish, who had swam down to join
Bombo and the injured Warto beneath the brain coral observed the lone
octopus as it examined itself for cuts or nicks. They had never seen
anything like it. Fancy a young octopus taking on a predator like the
Moray. Teasing and playing games is one thing, but actually wrestling
the 'big worms' was something altogether exceptional. As difficult as
it is for cuttlefish to express admiration for anything done by their
octopus cousins, this time they could not help but discuss it all in
bright, flashing amazement.

Warto was quietly moaning and had his severed tentacles curled up
underneath his mantle. The others began to fuss over him, caressing his
mantle with their tentacles, trying to calm and soothe the maimed
cuttlefish.

'She just came out of nowhere, why didn't you guys warn us. Oooohhh, my
hearts are pumping like mad. I&;#8230;I think I am going to faint'.
Bombo was hopeless. He was shocked by the attack and in the back of his
mind he was aware that he ran from their attacker, he left his friend
in the lurch (or in the lunch&;#8230;..so to speak) 'Never again,
never again, never again' he intoned like a zombie.

'OK, OK Bombo, its over now. The rest of you guys take charge of Warto
and help him back to the home reef.' Ordered Skiff. Warto's whimpering
continued.

'I'll follow shortly, I just need to speak to that amazing bloody
octopus. I still can't believe what I saw'. The others shifted their
gaze over towards Grech, and observed him with something close to
amazement.

'C'mon now. GO, get out of here!

With no further prompting the team crowded around Warto and supporting
him from all sides jetted off back in the direction of home. He was
spirited away like a thief in the night with a shocked and dejected
Bombo swimming behind in their wake.

Slowly Skiff swam over to where Grech hovered still checking his body
over for any damage that may have been caused by his encounter with the
slippery eel (basically counting all his tentacles). Elated that he was
in one piece, Grech looked up to see the approaching cuttlefish.

'Amazing, truly amazing. How often do you come to the rescue of
creatures in distress? Seems like a sure way to end up a pile of eel
pooh if you ask me!'

'Well, I don't remember asking you and I am glad my help was
appreciated' grumbled Grech who turned away as if to jet off.

'Hey..hold your sea horses will you. You octopus are such a serious
lot. I do..I mean WE do appreciate it. It's just that you have to admit
it was pretty damn awesome. For an octopus to wrestle a moray, lets
face it, you cant be the 'full squid'. Blurbed Skiff. 'Thanks to your
good tentacled self, our freind Warto got away with only a couple of
inches of two of his tentacles missing. He'll be sore for some time,
but they'll grow back. How about you? You OK?'

'I'm fine don't you worry about me. And the only crazy cephalopods
around here are the ones that I just observed playing some silly little
game with a creature that deserves a hell of a lot more respect than
you guys showed. Just what were you trying to prove? That you are
smart? I don't think so. Typical of you cuttlefish. All show and no
go!'

'Hey c'mon now. I just wanted to thank you, not get involved in that
old chestnut of the superior cephalapod, octopus versus cuttlefish. We
are just different and I accept that. I really think you are great.
Lets be friends&;#8230;c'mon&;#8230;..put it here'

Skiff offered one of his tentacles to Grech. Grech, looking into Skiffs
face slowly put out one of his own tentacles and the two arms entwined
in a type of monkey grip.

'My names Skiff, please to meet you'.

'Grech'.

Both cephalopods glowed pink during this introduction. A sign of warmth
and ease.

'Any time you need help Grech, you just call on me&;#8230;.I mean
us. We wont forget you. You know a cuttlefish has a memory like a
potato cod. Long, long, long'.

Grechs' pink shade turned darker, indicating embarrassment. He remained
quiet.

Well then, Grech. I better go catch up with the boys. Make sure they
make the home reef, tentacles intact. You coming?'

No, thanks. I can make my own way home'.

'Suit yourself. Remember Grech, anytime you need an extra row of
suckers, just flash and we'll come jetting.' And then he was
gone.

Grech watched his new found friend jet off to join his mates.

'Wow, I have never had a cuttlefish as a friend. How strange.' Glancing
back at the cavern where it all took place, Grech let out a big sigh
and headed back up onto the reef flat to continue his exploring.

Meanwhile, one masked moray with a very sore noggin lay curled up
inside his lair, eyes glazed over trying to shrink from the abuse being
hurled his way by one seething, embarrassed female. Aaah, domestic
bliss.