I might be small, I might smell, I might live in a tightly packed tin can but I have feelings too.
I’ve just come back, or rather survived, what you fish loving earth guys call one of the greatest marine spectacles on the planet. Yes I was at the annual sardine migration which takes place from Agulhas Bank and northward up the east coast of South Africa.
You guys might think it’s a great place for a holiday but for us little silver fish it’s no fun. Treated as the butter of the sea that goes with the plankton that dolphins, sharks, whales and birds love to eat ensures being number two in the food chain sucks.
You land lubber part-time swimmers put all that love into dolphins and whales and call us bait-balls in the greatest natural predatory show on earth. Hey, no one asked us what we think of it. We have family and when you are less than 4 inches and see that there is actually a book named 101 ways to consume a sardine wouldn’t you be a bit browned off. Would you want to be grilled, pickled, or smoked?
I guess you’ve all heard of Morocco, yeah well it a great spot for tourists, but not for us. If we hear we’re on our way to Morocco then we know we’re on our way to the sardine capital of the world. Nearly 600,000 tonnes of my family end up there each year to be turned into Moroccan recipes including Moroccan Fried Stuffed Sardines and Moroccan Sardine Balls in Spicy Tomato Sauce. With names like that at the end of the process you can hardly recognise your own relatives.
All I hear is SAVE the Whale, SAVE the Whale, SAVE the ****ing Whales. Well I for one have had a gut full of that. What about us? What about the little guy. It’s just like the big Banks in the Global Financial Crisis (GFC). Yes it’s ok to save the Big Banks but forget the little guy, there’s just too many of us. We have our own GFC, the Great Fish Calamity. We have no identity and when we are all gone there won’t even be a sardine museum.
Those bloody whales even have names and when all is said and done they are really just a modified hippopotamus, in fact, whales are the closest living relatives of hippos. They only entered the water roughly 50 million years ago so if it’s too dangerous for them let them go back to the land where they came from. You know the old saying ‘if it’s too hot in the kitchen.’
Another reason you earth guys love whales is because, like you, they remember one another and only have several mates each season, well get a grip. When you go out for a swim on Saturday night and another 30-40 million sardines turn up how do you expect us to remember who we slept with let alone recognise our offspring. Those whales only have one calf we have hundreds of thousands of children. Get real!
Just because whales have web sites, songs, paintings and all manner of celebratory paraphernalia doesn’t mean you should ignore us. I say hit back and stand up for the humble omega 3 supplier the SARDINE.
We should rewrite the classics like Jonah and the Sardine, Paikia the NZ Sardine Rider and of course consider how exciting a rewrite of the classic Herman Melville novel Moby-Sardine would be.
I say stick it up their blowhole.
SAVE THE SARDINE and save it now before it’s too late.
Warning the following image contains scenes of cruelty that may offend. The Sardines have had their heads cut off so they cannot talk or be identified.
T-shirts will be available if I get enough orders and can work out how I can get rich quick.
PS: An E-book will soon follow.