An extract from Shark on a train
by Matthew Norton (as yet unpublished)
Every passenger on board the Oceanic Express knew they were enclosed in a glass tunnel. And yet, they braced for an almighty splash as she dipped below the waterline. Some even confessed their disappointment when it didn’t happen.
But the betrayal of their inner child was quickly tempered by the impeccable clarity with which they could now see this world below the waves. The open plains of sand were glowing with beams of light cast by the sun, passed through the plodding currents and foamy breaks, and thrust into swirling, swivelling patterns on the ground. And there were remote islands of rock, some appearing bare and uninteresting while others were adorned with seaweeds, snails, barnacles and all kinds of wonderfully living muck. The more observant passengers, Howard included, could even make out a few small fish darting about as luminous specks, their species impossible to determine before they abruptly returned to their sheltered oases.
As the train continued on, the novelty quickly wore off. The sea appeared emptier than many were expecting. A lone wandering crab generated some buzz, as did the sight of several starfish stuck to the tunnel, but feelings of impatience and boredom were beginning to set in.
There were undoubtedly hidden treasures living below the sand. Perhaps several flatfish or Bobbit worms were primed at the surface, with only a remnant of their face sticking out, waiting to strike an unsuspecting meal with lightning speed. Then there were the sand sifters, the sluggish starfish and crusty sand dollars with their bodies flattened and spread out, scarcely perceivable from the horizon.
Dig a little deeper and one might find yet another world of recluses, creatures whose connection to the outside world was tenuous at best. For any other worm in the vicinity, it would be the entrance to burrows they maintain by bulging, bashing and brushing the sediment away. For any bivalve mollusc, it would be the fleshy tube extending between the two shells that would otherwise remain clamped shut.
Further still, the sand turns deathly black as its very chemistry deviates from the oxygen that gives life to the rest of planet Earth. Only the microscopic orders of life can persist down there, and only those capable of using alternative, oxygen free methods of respiration. Some commit to this lifestyle so completely, that the very air we breathe would spell certain death.
But as curious as all this thought and knowledge was, the whole point of the Oceanic Express was to see the oceans in action. On that note, nothing seemed to be really happening, not until the train hunkered down and pushed through a dark cave bored through solid rock. Lights built into her metal arches made for a seemless transition between natural and artificial illumination, though it didn’t reveal much on the cave walls, save for a few stray anemones.
But this new wave of disappointment was quickly shattered once the train crawled out of the cave and straight into a coral reef paradise. The corals dominated on both sides of the tunnel, living structures created by millions of polyps and their calcium carbonate skeletons, slowly working, fighting, building, cooperating in harmony while creating an architecture of chaos. The variety was staggering, from branching staghorn corals to bulbous brains, tricky shelves, cute little cups and so much in between. There were branches upon branches, plates upon plates, gaps within gaps, outcrops upon outcrops, overhangs running from overhangs with no one surface being even and no two surfaces being exactly the same.
And as expertly crafted as the reefs were themselves, there seemed to be countless other lifeforms building on its foundations. Soft sponges squatted, squishy anemones swayed in the currents, giant clams wedged into the remaining gaps and feather stars stubbornly held their ground, the claw at their base fixing them down while their bristly arms stretched out. Even on the roughness of it all, there were slimy flatworms and sea cucumbers, mighty cone snails and wriggling brittle stars, all making their way from place to place. Every little creature and component of this underwater metropolis had made a mark that was entirely its own.
Soon enough, the Oceanic Express had to stop to admire the view. And from there, it didn’t take long for the more agile reef residents to make themselves known. It was almost as if they were expecting these strange visitors from beyond the sea.
It started with a rush of spadefish, all fitted with faded black stripes on their otherwise silvery bodies, but they were quickly followed by squads of angelfish, butterflyfish, oriental sweetlips, harlequin sweetlips, tangs and yellow tailed fusiliers. They came from every conceivable direction as they swam, swooped, swerved, dived, turned and danced among the canopy of the reef. And their colours and patterns were just as striking and varied as their displays, if not more so. There were stripes of black on white, blue on light yellow, blue on dark yellow, singular bands of thick orange, pebble dashed patterns of grey, faces of blue, rings of white, scatterings of leopard-like spots and amorphous blobs of black. There were other notable features, but untangling them from the blur of activity proved as good as impossible. Even more so when new patterns and rehashed combinations entered the fray. In most cases, it was impossible to even try recognising species specific patterns, but a select few kept their elaborate designs in the spotlight just long enough.
A pair of mandarin fish swung by the tunnel, their wings draped in waves of orange and electric blue. Then a small group of unicorn fish approached, their mythological namesake needing little introduction once one noticed the horn sticking out of their forehead. The yellow boxfish that followed also fitted its name perfectly, the only omission being the neat assortment of black spots on its yellow cubed body.
But even these marvels of evolution’s fancy were quickly outshined by the dark blue cometfish, fish who folded and contorted themselves so well that it was near impossible to tell where the body ended and the broad fins began. The result was a volley of rough arrowheads that might have been mistaken for a surprise attack from the knights of Atlantis. Only the manner with which they floated towards the train was too slow and gentle to pose any real danger. Before even approaching striking distance, they unfolded themselves, revealing that the large black spots that many fancied to be their eyes were actually located near the tail. They wisely retreated back to the nooks and crannies of the corals, where those black spots might be mistaken for the eyes of a vicious moray eel. A creature that only a fool would provoke.
A brief interval of quiet followed the departure of the cometfish. But the Oceanic Express was patient, likely more so than its passengers who were already demanding more.
They were answered by an array of reef predators who seemed eager to introduce themselves. The first to appear were barracuda, silvery missiles of muscle who could charge at lightning speed, and a couple of groupers, colossal grey bruisers of fish with mouths wide enough to swallow almost anything in sight. They departed mere moments before a group of high hat sweetlips wandered into the arena. These small stripy fish may have eluded the notice of the barracuda and groupers, but their good fortune was to be short-lived.
A single lionfish emerged, dazzling the passengers with its frills and feathery fins, all spread out in delicate patterns of red and white, like an origami pattern come to life. This dangerous beauty became the downfall of one unlucky sweetlips as it was cornered against the tunnel by the supposedly fragile fins of the lionfish and subsequently devoured.
Death also came from the holes and caves of the coral reef, where the snake-like moray eels waited to ambush those sweetlips lucky enough to escape the lionfish’s grasp. Another four were taken by the razor sharp teeth of the morays, which only served to keep the soft flesh in place while the secondary jaws rose from the eel’s throat to secure the meal. And as they retreated into their dens to digest their lunch, the sharks finally made their debut appearance. With all the commotion, it was really only a matter of time.
There were whitetip reef sharks, blessed with slim, silky bodies and bendable fins that were ideal for squeezing through narrow passageways, sociable grey reef sharks, hammerhead sharks with their stretched out heads, bulky tiger sharks with faded stripes on their sides and wobbegongs with their mats of frills and fronds for blending in with the coral. A couple of nurse sharks also joined the fun, and with the whisker-like barbels on their face and their lack of visible teeth, they looked rather adorable and, one might dare say, friendly. But a speedy demonstration involving a stray crab reminded everyone that these docile looking ocean predators were still armed and powerful.
No one knew why this crab decided to wander out while there were so many sharks in the vicinity. One moment it seemed to wander in ignorant bliss, the next it was running for cover, having realised its foolish mistake. On this occasion, the corners of the reef offered little protection as the crab was sucked up from its hasty hiding place and crushed and chewed to oblivion. And then the nurse shark went back to cruising about the reef and over the tunnel with unparalleled grace and confidence.
There was no question about who the masters of this domain were, but now that the point was made inescapably clear, the sharks departed. In their place, tangs and butterflyfish took unscheduled breaks from ripping up seaweed, clownfish abandoned their anemone safe houses and spindly cleaner wrasse neglected their customers, all to entertain their human guests.
Alas, it was time to move on. The driver kicked the engine back into life and eased the train forward and soon enough the coral grew thinner and thinner as she moved into the fringes of the reef. But even these suburbs were prepared with one final parting gift.
There were pufferfish blowing themselves up into balloons, sea cucumbers party popping white threads out of their mouths and octopuses climbing onto the reef canopy and waving the passengers goodbye. Some waved with just their bare tentacles, others waved while holding stones, shells or squishy unidentifiable blobs.
And then it was over. The residents of the reef could return to their day to day lives while the Oceanic Express charged forward into the deep blue sea.
Our world under the waves 