
alf a century ago, when I was about twelve years old,
my life’s ambition was to have a 4ft aquarium upstairs
in my bedroom – a community tank with all kinds
of wonderful fishes – I knew nothing in those days
about specific biotopes or different water conditions
for different species – I just wanted all sorts,
so long, of course, as my collection included some catfish.
My pocket money was precisely six
shillings and sixpence a week, of which I saved every
penny. For my birthday and Christmas presents, all my
family were politely requested not to buy me presents
– just please give me the money!
Eventually, enough cash was saved
– an angle iron tank installed next to my bed (despite
my mother’s misgivings about the excessive weight),
and my long-awaited community of fishes began to take
shape. In those days, tropical fish were expensive –
a small Angel Fish or a tiny Neon Tetra was almost my
whole week’s pocket money – equivalent to
several pounds by today’s standards, and I could
normally only buy one fish each week, so it took a long
time to build up my collection. It also took a huge amount
of self- will as I also wanted to spend my money on riding
lessons and, as they say, you can only spend it once!
Every Saturday I would ride my
bike to Queensborough Fish Farm, in Wraysbury, about 5
miles away, and I would choose my latest addition, which
would be carefully placed in a jam-jar with the lid screwed
down tight, then wrapped up with lots of newspaper to
keep it warm, and then stowed in the saddlebag of my bike
and wedged upright with more paper to stop it falling
over (how times have changed!).
Anyway, in the fullness of time,
my collection was almost complete – I had Guppies,
Swordtails, Pearl gouramies, Opaline Gouramies, Tiger
Barbs, Spanner Barbs, Schuberti Barbs, Firemouth Cichlids
(small), Neon Tetras, Angelfish and Corydoras –
please, don’t say anything – in those days
I didn’t know any better! They all lived together
– rather surprisingly, with hindsight, and the tank
was my pride and joy. All I really wanted to finish the
assortment was a Black Molly, which I duly bought and
installed – my collection was complete and I was
deliriously happy – for almost a week.
After a few days, I noticed a small
white spot on the Black Molly – two days later every
fish was plastered. The only medication for White Spot
available in those days to a kid like me was Methylene
Blue but I was fairly uninformed about such things then
– there was no one to ask and it was too little
and too late – everything died – total wipe
out. You just can’t imagine how devastated I was
– all those beautiful fish dead – all that
pocket money wasted – all because of that one last
fish that I just had to have!!!
The scars of that incident have
never left me – I killed those fish and I have only
myself and my ignorance to blame. Since then I have become
totally fanatical about quarantine – every purchase
is installed in an isolation/hospital tank set up especially
for the purpose. It is kept well away from my stock tanks,
to avoid drips or splashes of contaminated water, and
I have a completely separate selection of buckets, tubing,
tools and towels etc. that are only used for the quarantine
tank. Every droplet of water from a new source is regarded
as poison until proven otherwise. New fish are kept in
isolation for a minimum of three weeks. They are closely
observed – I have a large magnifying glass for the
purpose – and they are not released into the main
tanks until I am 110% sure that they are not carrying
anything nasty that could infect the other fish –
OK – call me paranoid, but it’s better safe
than sorry!
Now let us jump forward to the
present time – I have a friend who has kept fish
for about four or five years. For reasons which will soon
become apparent, she must remain anonymous. She came into
fishkeeping by default – her daughter wanted a fish
tank, which I supplied to her, but it turned out to be
a five-minute wonder and my friend got lumbered with cleaning
it out. She became quite interested and decided to take
it over, since when her enthusiasm has known no bounds.
She came to me for advice on various aspects of her new
hobby, and we have subsequently spent many interesting
and productive days and covered many motorway miles during
our fish-buying expeditions.
The one piece of important
advice that I gave her, bearing in mind my previous traumatic
experience, was to quarantine everything.
But, her space is limited –
she only has a few tanks, and despite having the best
of intentions, every time she sets up a would-be quarantine
tank, she promptly fills it with a fish from her ever-growing
collection. Consequently, despite my gentle nagging and
dark mutterings about playing ‘Russian Roulette’,
when she does buy some new fish, she puts them straight
into any one of her community tanks. Up to now she has
been remarkably lucky.....
Three weeks ago, we went out on
one of our trips, and she bought several new fish which
were distributed amongst her various tanks.
At this stage in the story, it’s
probably reasonable to assume that you’ve all worked
out what happened next.....
One of the new purchases was put
into an established Amazonian-style set-up, containing
a stunning shoal of mature Cardinal Tetras, all of which
took sick and died within a week. Ironically, the new
fish, the carrier of whatever nasty disease it was that
killed the Cardinals, survived unscathed. This particular
phenomenon does sometimes happen – I’ve heard
of it several times – making the catastrophe all
the more frustrating.
It took courage for her to tell
me about it – and I didn’t say “I told
you so” – bravely, she said it first! In future,
I’m quite sure my friend will apply the same quarantine
rules to her new fish as I do.
Out of regard for her feelings,
I asked her permission to tell this tale and, to give
her credit where it’s due, she agreed on the basis
that it might stop the same disastrous mistake from happening
to someone else.
To sum up – if you don’t
quarantine your new fish, you risk losing not only the
new purchase, but also possibly all the fish already established
in the tank, not to mention your hard-earned money! Is
it really worth it?.
It’s easy to be blasé
about this and think it could never happen to you, just
because it hasn’t happened so far. Without quarantining,
you’re gambling with your fish’s lives and
nine times out of ten you’ll get away with it, but
beware of a variation of Murphy’s Law, which states
that “If something can possibly go wrong, then one
day, when you least expect it, it probably will.....”