Golden seahorse in the Galapagos Islands Photo by Marc Bernardi Click on photo for more scuba pics

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When I think of horses I visualize huge, muscular beasts pounding the beach with powerful legs. One would hope that seeing a seahorse underwater might be as obvious. But, unless you have extraterrestrial vision, the little horses in the sea are as difficult to find as a horse on the beach is to miss. Although both animals belong to the gigantic Phylum Vertebrata, and their head shapes appear vaguely alike, the similarities all but end there.

The seahorse is a member of the large order Syngnathiformes (sin-NATH-i-forms). This includes such amazing creatures as the cornetfish, trumpetfish, snipefish, razorfish, shrimpfish, and the ghost pipefish. The family Synathidae (sin-NATH-i-day), contains around 30 species of seahorses along with nearly 200 species of their kissing cousins, the pipefish.

The Pacific seahorse is the only species of seahorse found on the east side of the Pacific Ocean ranging from California to Peru. The other twenty-nine types are found in more hospitable waters like the Indian Ocean and warmer seas. All seahorses belong to the genus Hippocampus, which roughly translated means "horse monster" (Were Greek seahorses bigger or something when they came up with the name?). We keep calling it a horse, though in fact, it is a bona fide fish.

The part that looks so much like a horse's head is a long tubular snout. It pulls in water, which passes over the gills for oxygen. The snout is also used with great precision and force to suck in small crustaceans that float by, even from as far away as a few inches.

In lacking a tail fin, the seahorse gains a versatile grasping limb. The tail is used to anchor the fish by twining around camouflaging soft corals. The seahorse also uses the tail in its ritual mating dance. The dorsal fin is small, found low on the back, and serves mainly as a stabilizer. The pectoral fins are its swimming fins. Placed strangely high, you'll find them near where you'd want to see the ears on a horse. Beating like a hummingbird's wings, these pectorals are nearly invisible, but powerful enough to maneuver away from perceived predators like you and me.

"In keeping with their odd looks, seahorse sex may be near the top of the list for peculiar manners in which to reproduce."

Seahorses are threatened by bigger fish and sea lions, but their greatest demise comes in the hands of humans. We take them, at great expense, for aquariums. They are notorious for dying in captivity. They are also harvested in large numbers, dried, and ground into powders. People still try to use ground-up seahorse as an aphrodisiac. With Viagra on the market and just a little education, maybe we'll see slower decimation of the seahorse populations.

In keeping with their odd looks, seahorse sex may be near the top of the list for peculiar manners in which to reproduce. While it is common for the female of a species to take charge of selecting her mate, it is very uncommon for a male to be the pregnant one.

The mating ritual begins with a chance meeting of two seahorses. They go to a nearby strand of black coral or sea grass where they spend hours slowly twirling around and around, changing colors to their brightest, and making eyes at each other. Seeing as their eyeballs independently rotate, they have more ways than one to check each other out.

The female deposits her eggs into a brooding pouch low on the belly side of her chosen mate. Her work is done and his is just beginning. The male fertilizes them and carries the eggs around as they develop. This takes about three weeks.

To see him with the typical bulging belly of a pregnant female is bizarre, but satisfying. At least some male animals share the arduous task of bearing live young. He finally gets relief as he releases hatched and fully formed baby seahorses, by the dozen, into the ocean. No longer burdened, he is a glutton for punishment by promptly seeking out another female to impregnate him.

Seahorse hunting is extraordinarily difficult. They are masters of disguise and require great diligence on the part of the photographer. This is especially true when the photographer happens to be diving around the Galapagos Islands, where every thirty seconds or so, another gigantic animal blocks your viewfinder. However, while quietly pausing near a forest of black coral bushes, a subtle motion may catch the eye. Whatever you do, don't look away. It can be mistaken for a whisper in the current, or the gentle bend of a frond not quite in line. Don't even blink.

Then it happens. Like magic, the tiny eye shines. The unique body shape takes form and you wonder how you'd missed it before. Suddenly the universe has been reduced to you, your camera, and that beautiful seahorse. Only the absence of air or film is likely to make you move away.