The thing about water

My enthusiasm for twice daily water testing evaporated very quickly, especially when the number of fish tanks in my home increased. Water testing became a once a week thing for a while, then once a fortnight, then employed only when fish either didn’t look healthy or were found dead.

My fish looked energetic, had no marks on their bodies, ate well and not too often, and in three of my tanks the fish were continually breeding, or attempting to breed. I figured I must be doing something right and stopped stressing about the water quality. I had plenty of other things going on in my life that were stressing me out and I felt relief at being able to scale back a bit on aquarium maintenance.

For most fish, the slightest trace of ammonia can be deadly and the goal is to have zero trace of it in the tank. The ammonia test kit that I use displays the water reading by change of colour, from bright yellow for no traces of ammonia and a dark green reading for high concentration of ammonia.

The difference in colour between having a zero reading (bright yellow) and a reading of 0.25 parts per million (ppm) is slight (yellow with a greenish tinge) and readings of under 0.25 ppm are very hard to detect. The best rule of thumb to use is the lower end of the spectrum – if the water isn’t bright yellow and looks pale yellow it is safer to assume there is ammonia in the water and do a 30% water change*.

I had found that out the hard way once before, by putting fish in another tank that had a slight trace of ammonia and losing most of them. One of the problems is that API’s freshwater ammonia color card does not display the “pale yellow” in-between reading, meaning that, like a lot of other amateur aquarists, I have made the mistake of believing that test colour of any shade of yellow means everything is hunky-dory.

It has been a sad week at TankTales HQ. Five fish from one tank succumbed to a slight increase in ammonia – at least I think that’s what it was. The PH was all over the shop as well, but the ammonia increase is the most likely culprit.

The tank most recently housed a breeding pair of angelfish, two bloodfin tetras, two golden widows, and a red rainbow fish from Papua New Guinea. Now, just the two angelfish remain.

Koi angelfish and bloodfin tetra

On Thursday I noticed the bloodfin tetras were missing. I assumed that after a month of seemingly getting along well, the angelfish had preyed on the tetras. The most likely scenario was that the angelfish had resumed their breeding activity and had become aggressive to protect their eggs. I couldn’t see any eggs or fry, but knew from past experience with this pair that they were good at hiding their offspring and were very protective of them; right up until the moment that they ate them, as they had done at least six times in the previous six months. I went to work, feeling sad about losing the tetras and feeling guilty about failing to protect them.

Black ghost angelfish and two golden widows.

On Friday night, I couldn’t find the red rainbow fish, but the other fish looked okay. I tested the water for ammonia and to my eye the colour changed to bright yellow. I figured I had an aggression problem on my hands, and thought about which of my other tanks I could transfer the widows to, so they would be out of harm’s way. I couldn’t really transfer them to any of the other community tanks without putting them at risk from the current inhabitants, so I decided I would return them to Rayonne Aquarium in the morning and ask that they be re-homed.

Rainbow fish, golden widow and the tail of the black ghost angelfish

On Saturday morning the rainbow fish appeared again, but I could only find one widow and it was swimming vertically. That’s not a good sign. I located my floating fry cage and gently lowered it into the “miracle” tank in the kitchen – so named because every sick fish I have put in there has recovered. It currently houses ten mollies, five platys, six bettas, two clown loaches and a bristlenose pleco – they are all well, healthy and getting along, and the water readings are always perfect.

I scooped the widow out of the water and transferred it to the fry cage, where it lay on its side with twitching fins. It didn’t last very long. For the first time the “miracle” tank did not live up to its name.

Back at the anglefish tank, I grabbed a bucket and the vacuum water siphon and got the water change started with a big suck on the end of the siphon pipe. As the bucket filled and nasty goop was sucked out of the gravel I moved the rocks, driftwood and other accessories.  Under an aquarium tunnel that looked like a hollowed out tree trunk that had been cut in half lengthwise, I found the second golden widow, already dead. Poor thing. I scooped it out and added it to the compost bin – the eventual final resting place for all of my fish.

I did a 40% water change while vacuuming all of the gravel and with a net I fished out large particles of rotting leaves and stems from the aquarium plant cuttings I keep in most of my tanks. The angelfish like the bamboo leaves for spawning and the other fish welcomed the hiding places provided by strings of baby’s tears and ludwigia. I change the plants every one to two weeks and I take out the stems that are left once the fish have fed on the plant leaves. Despite that regular clean up, there was still a lot of leaf and stem litter covering the gravel.

A test of the water gave me a pale yellow ammonia reading, so I did another, smaller water change (about 20%) and hoped for the best. Two hours later the red rainbow fish, which had been swimming around quite happily, was found dead on the gravel bed.

I tested the water again this morning and got the same pale yellow reading so I did another 30% water change, a few hours ago. This time, the ammonia test result is bright yellow and I am less fearful about losing my beautiful angels. The PH is back within the preferred range too.

All of the other tanks have been tested too. There's no ammonia present, but some of the PH readings are not good so I’m doing lots of water changes today.

I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the angels make it. If they’re still alive tomorrow I will give them a small amount of food (they haven’t been fed since Thursday) and keep hoping for the best.

Wish me luck.

#tanktales

*This is my personal opinion and is not professional advice.

Alby became very fat

Introducing more fish to the tank was an exciting goal to have, but deciding the type and number of fish to add weighed heavily on me. What if I introduced fish that didn't get along with Alby? Even narrowing the possible candidates to a short list of fish that were easy on the eye and also got along with Mollies was difficult. They were all so pretty and interesting looking - I wanted them all!

Things were pretty hectic at work, giving me another excuse for procrastinating on the fish front and the weeks flew by in a flash.

Over those weeks, Alby became very fat. The layer of thin white scaly tissue covering Alby's body looked uncomfortably taut, like an overinflated balloon. Was my fish on the way out?

I rang Rayonne Aquarium to pick Michelle's brain. She told me to cut back Alby's food - Mollies don't need twice daily feeding, in fact they can go days without any food at all. I dropped to daily feeding, then after a few days cut it again to every second day. I fed less food too, slicing the frozen blocks of brine shrimp and pumpkin in half instead of giving Alby a full block each time.

After a week or so of this Alby seemed, to my eye, to be a little less bloated and my anxiety and worry receded.

Our union national conference was coming up, taking me away from home for a few nights and I felt comfortable about Alby missing a meals while I was away. Before departing for the conference I left a full block of frozen food bobbing on the tank water surface, patted the tank and wished Alby luck.

Over the three days and two nights of our conference I managed to bore every one of the 47 attendees with photos and videos of Alby the Molly and I wondered how my little white beauty was faring.

I needn't have worried. Upon my return home at the end of the week Alby was happily cruising through the water, looking much less bloated than when I had left three days earlier. I breathed a sigh of relief, put the kettle on and unpacked my conference luggage.

Over the weekend I visited Rayonne Aquarium twice, still trying to decide what my next fish purchase would be. I could put more Mollies in, but putting males and females together could result in me suddenly owning many, many Mollies. From my internet research I learned the desired ratio of fish to water volume and as I only had one tank up and running I didn't have room for an explosion of my fish population.

Michelle showed me how to tell the gender of Mollies. The shape of the fin under the belly is the easiest way to tell - fan-shaped for girls and spear-shaped for boys. Michelle's advice, if I didn't want lots of baby fish, was to only buy female Mollies.

At home, I looked closely at Alby - her fin was definitely fan-shaped.

I spent some more time over the weekend trying to decide if I wanted more of the same type of fish or if it was better to have a variety of fish types in a community tank.

A few days later, the decision was taken out of my hands.

One evening after dinner my daughter and I remained at the kitchen table talking. My eagle-eyed daughter, staring at Alby's tank, suddenly started and yelled "What's that?!"

Up on her feet in a flash, she switched the tank light on and pointed at the glass. I moved closer, squinting. I saw a small dark shape move horizontally along the back wall of the tank and gasped. A second small dark shape swam into view and my mind whirred while my eyes tried to focus on the small creatures. What were they?

I reached for my glasses, put them on and lifted the lid of the tank. From above I could see more little critters - I counted four. With glasses on I could see that they looked like tadpoles, or the mosquito fish that infest the wetlands that adjoins my property. There are plenty of frogs in the wetlands too. Preposterously, I wondered how baby frogs or mosquito fish had found their way into my tank. I figured they couldn't have been Alby's babies - she hadn't been near another Molly for almost two months.

My phone was nearby and I sought Google's help. It wasn't long before the penny dropped. Female Mollies can store Male Molly secretions for later fertilisation. Alby hadn't been fat - she had been pregnant!

That's why the fish in Darren's tank had attacked her when he brought her home - hence her arrival at my home. I rang to share the news and Darren was as shocked and delighted as I was.

I knew that Mollies could give birth to up to 40 fry at a time, yet I could only see a handful of fry in the tank. My deduction that Alby had probably eaten most of her babies pained me. Even knowing that eating their young is normal behaviour for a Molly, I still felt guilty about not being here to save them. I had to make sure Alby didn't eat the rest.

The next day I left work early to get to Rayonne Aquarium before closing time and bought a floating fry tank. That night, I transferred Alby to a bucket and removed all of the tank ornaments while I went fishing for fry. They were fast and small, and their colouring enabled them to blend in with the tank gravel.

I'm not adept with the fish net, and I was also a bit tipsy from the wine I had drunk with dinner - this was not going to be a quick task. I cranked up the music (Iron and Wine) and stood very still at the tank, net poised to snare fry when they moved. Each time I caught one I dropped it into the fry tank. By the time I put Alby back in the tank I had caught four fry. I fed them a small amount of crushed flakes, took photos and video and bragged on social media about the new additions.

Two days later I spotted another baby slithering over the gravel. The next day I found another. Suddenly, I had seven fish. I was happy about this development, but I also knew I wanted more fish.

#tanktales

Artbylea: A portrait of Alby the Molly

Soft pastel on mi-tientes paper. Side and top view of Alby the Molly. One for the muses.

"I have a tropical fish!"

"I have a tropical fish!"

The excitement and pleasure of this thought made me feel buoyant for days.

As soon as I awoke each morning I would spring out of bed and race to the kitchen to check the tank, always fearful I would find a floating fish carcass. Alby would swim to the top of the water, glassy eyes meeting mine, mouth opening and closing. It was a move I interpreted as both a greeting and an expression of hunger.

I would say "Good morning", turn on the tank's light and drop a pinch of supermarket fish flakes near Alby's head. Over morning coffee, I watched Alby eat and tootle around the tank, pearl white scales glowing under the fluorescent light, semi-translucent fins and tail twitching and flowing. It was a serene way to start the day.

Arriving home at night I would perform the same routine. Check fish is still alive, greet fish, turn on light, feed fish, watch fish.

I figured that my constant fear of finding Alby dead arose from the fact that I didn't know what the fuck I was doing. I knew nothing about caring for tropical fish; maybe I was doing something, with good intentions, that could actually harm the fish. I didn't even know what type of fish Alby was.

I tapped "white tropical fish" into Google and quickly found an image of an identical fish. Alby was a Molly.

I read articles and discussion threads, trying not to feel overwhelmed by all of the new information and varying opinions. Water quality, it seemed, was the first thing to get right. I tried not to fret about harming Alby with dodgy water before the weekend came, when I could get to my local aquarium.

Michelle at Rayonne Aquarium was very thorough in her explanation of how to manage water quality. She offered me a full aquarium test kit then gently steered me away from it, telling me it was quite expensive and included tests that I probably didn't need to worry about if all I had was one Molly in a 90 litre (24 gallon) tank.

Michelle grabbed an ammonia test kit from the shelf behind the cramped counter and told me that the main thing to worry about was ammonia. Even if all your other water parameters are ok, if there's ammonia in the water, even a tiny amount, it might kill the fish. I took the ammonia test kit (I may as well have two) and, remembering some of the things I had read online, I picked up a PH test from the sale table.

The talk turned to food and I told Michelle about the frozen brine shrimp with spirulina I'd bought from a pet shop in the city. She recommended adding fresh veggies, like pumpkin, zucchini, lettuce and peas to Alby's diet.

While we talked, my eyes drifted to tanks stacked three-high around the outer wall and through the centre of the ground floor of the shop. Tetras, Plecos, Oscars, Silver Dollars and Goldfish swam prettily into view, prompting me to ask Michelle what types of fish could live with Alby the Molly?

"Nah-uh" she said, "You're going home to test your water first. Don't even think about putting anything else in the tank until you know that the water is good."

If I did discover ammonia in the water I was to do 30% water change today and again in a few days time. I left with my test kits and a bag of water conditioner, feeling well-armed to embrace this new hobby.

The first water test was fine - no ammonia and PH within the best range for a Molly. I did a 30% water change anyway just for the practice, then tested the water again. It was still good.

Over the next week I tested the water twice each day, in the morning and at night, building it into the routine; greet, turn on light, test water, feed, watch fish. Even with the addition of the test, it got old pretty quickly.

I wondered would this fish-keeping thing would be more interesting if I had two fish?

#tanktales

The first fish

Alby was my first and arrived unexpectedly one evening in September 2013.

Frantic knocking at my front door and loud high-pitched barking marked her arrival and the beginning of my passion for fish-keeping.

In retrospect, the moment I wrestled the dogs out of my path and opened the front door to greet an old friend was like opening a door to a new life. If my life was a house, I just opened up another room.

Darren smiled and said “Hello hun.” And thrust a clear plastic bag at me. “You have to take this.”

A white fish bobbed in the water that half-filled the plastic bag.

“My fish are trying to kill it. He can’t live with me anymore. You’ve got a fish tank, you have to take him. You don’t have a choice. If you don’t take him, he’ll die!” He beseeched.

I did have a fish tank. Correction, my daughter had a fish tank.

It was a 90 litre Perspex tank manufactured in China, that I found on Ebay while considering birthday present ideas.

The tank, along with 4 gold fish, was given to Darcy on her eleventh birthday. She kept it in her room and took care of the fish, until one by one they died and were consumed by the others. We fished out the remaining corpse (there was no one left to eat him) and left the tank where it was.

Months later on a weekend when we were doing a big clean up at home, Darcy re-arranged her bedroom and had no desire to keep the tank.

I re-arranged the kitchen at the same time, creating a clear space to put a secondhand cabinet I found at our local resource recovery centre (the tip shop) with the fish tank on top.

I spent some time that weekend Googling answers to questions like “how to set up an aquarium?” and made a trip to my local aquarium to pick the brain of Michelle, proprietor of Rayonne Aquarium.

I picked up some water ager, water conditioner, an ammonia test kit and a heater, having decided I wanted to try my hand at keeping tropical fish. They seemed so much more interesting, and more striking looking, than goldfish.

The most important thing I got on that trip to the aquarium was advice. Really good advice like:

•  Don’t use fresh tap water to clean your filter sponge, wash it in tank water. That way you’ll protect any good bacteria that may be living in the sponge.
• Regular water changes should keep the ammonia level down. Change a third of the tank water at a time.
• Test the ammonia level of your tap water, especially after a lot of rain. If the ammonia level is high, save your aquarium water change for another day.
• Don’t add unnecessary stuff to the water.
• Be patient and don’t stress.

I cleaned the gravel and the walls of the tank, put the heater and filter into position and plugged them in, and filled the tank with water. Using a small bucket I found at a $2 shop I slowly carried 90 litres of water from tap to tank.

When it was done I turned the fluorescent light on and sat back in a chair just looking at the tank. The gravel was in natural brown tones and there is a picture taped to the back of the tank. A few plastic plants and a barrel ornament that came with the tank when we first bought it. I tried to imagine it with fish and wondered about the sort of fish that could live in it.

In the following weeks I used my spare time to read a bit about tropical fish keeping. I didn’t have a lot of spare time though, my workload was a bit crazy. I was also wracked with indecision about the type of fish I would keep in the tank. The more I read, the more images of fish I saw, the more entranced and confused I became. It seemed to be a decision that was too big to make lightly and too trivial to focus on for too long. I kept putting it off as other matters both professional and personal of much more importance and urgency took my attention.

The tank sat empty for months with the filter and heater running, just in case I made a snap decision. In the fish keeping world that’s called “cycling” apparently. In reality it was just me being lazy and occupied with other matters.

All that changed when Darren turned up on my doorstep waving a fish in my face.

“C’mon. Let’s put him in your fish tank.”

“But I haven’t tested the water! Wait!” I protested, following his charge through the house from front door to the kitchen at the very rear. He was fleet of foot and I arrived in the kitchen in time to see him open the tank lid and tip the white fish straight into the tank. 

“Too late!” he cackled triumphantly. 

I moved closer to watch my first fish explore his new home.

“How do you turn the light on darls?” 

The pure white fish glowed prettily under the fluoro globe and we both exclaimed. He was so beautiful.

“He’s an albino,” said Darren.

“Let’s call him Alby then,” I decided. 

We toasted Alby with a cup of coffee and I made a mental note to buy some fish food as soon as possible.

#tanktales