In the narrow, highly specialized field of fish with blob-like attributes, one fish has dominated for decades: One would hardly dare imagine a blobbish fish without first thinking of the blobfish. But has a new blobby fish emerged to unseat this age-old champion of blobdom?
Today, a group of researchers from the nonprofit Conservation International published a report of 27 new species discovered in Alto Mayo, a region in the Peruvian Amazon. Each of the species was a singular delight: the amphibious mouse that dwells in palm swamps called aguajales; the small, stubby chestnut-colored salamander that climbs trees. But as I scrolled through the report, one species was a clear standout—a born star, never readier to accept its place in the spotlight. This, of course, was the blob-headed fish.
The blob-headed fish, which has yet to be formally described and given a scientific name, is a new species of armored bristlemouth catfish in the genus Chaetostoma. The fish somewhat resembles its cousins in Chaetostoma, with one notable exception. "What is amazing is that it looks so similar to closely related species in every way except for the glaring addition of this enormous blob-like structure on its head," Trond Larsen, the senior director of biodiversity and ecosystem science at the nonprofit, wrote in an email. I don't mean to mythologize, but the whole arrangement feels timely, like a Rudolph situation: one armored bristlemouth catfish with a nose big and blobulous enough to lead the way.
The real blobfish, meaning the deep-sea fish Psychrolutes, only comes into its famously extravagant blobhood upon being extracted from the high pressure of the deep sea and subsequently succumbing to the bloat of land. All of which is to say that the blobfish, in its own deep-sea habitat, appears far less blobesque than the blob-headed fish of Alto Mayo, which presumably was not experiencing particularly high pressure in the rivers and streams it calls home. Of course, blobbage is not a competition—we can appreciate two blobous divas for their own distinct qualities and accomplishments—but this is, perhaps, a reminder that not all freaky fish live in the ocean.
"I have never seen a fish anything like the blob-headed fish," Larsen said. "My first impression is that it looks almost comically like a giant, swollen nose," he said. "Although clearly it is not a nose."
No one knows what, exactly, the blob head does, possibly because to reveal the blob's riddles would defuse its blobfully overwhelming mystery. (That's why its blob is so big; it's full of secrets!) Larsen speculated in The Guardian that the blobian nature of the blob "could have something to do with sensory organs in the head, or it may assist with buoyancy control, provide fat reserves or aid in its foraging strategy.”
For now, we will have to content ourselves with the blob's inscrutable present and uncertain future. Perhaps the blob-headed fish's blob head does all, or none of the above. What would you do with a thingamablob? Sound off below.
