48 



Sometimes it got all mixed up, for I would dream I had dreamt it, 

 and when I did wake up it took a long time to sort it all out. This 

 sounds fantastic, and it was. 



The East London Museum sent the fish with a police guard on 

 the 22nd February 1939 by rail to Grahamstown, and it arrived 

 on the 23rd. It was taken to my house and put in its special room. 

 It had a curious, powerful, and penetrating odour, an odour that 

 in the coming weeks was always to pervade our lives, awake or 

 asleep. From the start the whole family was rigidly drilled and 

 kept on the alert. The house was never left alone, night or day, 

 and if a fire should occur, the fish must be the first thing to be got 

 out, and at once. Every waking moment was full of worry for the 

 safety of that specimen, and I dreamt of little else. 



In sending the specimen to me the Board of the East London 

 Museum had stipulated that it was not to be exhibited to the 

 public in Grahamstown. This caused some ill-feeling, for several 

 institutions wished to have the specimen for a period for their own 

 special purposes. For about two weeks after our return, the back- 

 wash from the impact on the world beyond had not yet reached 

 Grahamstown, and there was little about the Coelacanth in the 

 local press, only in papers outside. They got hold of some fan- 

 fastic stories, among them one that this fish (which weighed 127 lb.) 

 had dripped ten gallons of oil ! 



There were many curious incidents in these first few days. 

 Several colleagues asked to see the fish, and came to my house. 

 After I had shown it to them, one, an Englishman, said to me, 

 'But you are surely not expecting people to believe so astounding a 

 thing on your word alone. You will surely be sending it to the 

 British Museum for them to make sure.' He was astonished when 

 I said that I doubted if anyone there knew so much more than 

 myself to justify such a step, and that I was quite satisfied it was a 

 Coelacanth. I added that within a week or two I expected to know 

 a good deal more about the intimate details of a Coelacanth than 

 any other person in the world. 



A Government scientist I had known for many years called to 

 see me at my office at College. He put his hands on my shoulders 

 and said earnestly, 'Doc, what has made you do this thing.'* It is 

 terrible to see you ruin all your scientific reputation in this way.' 

 I asked him what thing. He replied, 'Calling this fish a Coela- 



