4o8 Observations oil the Flight of Flying Fishes. [Sess. 



bows appear to fly right ahead ; and those which rise a little on 

 the bow go away in that direction which will take them most 

 directly away from the ship and from danger. 



The recognised idea of the flight is that the fish swim 

 tremendously fast, and gather enough way under water to 

 carry them, aided by outspread wings, when they rise into the 

 air. I do not think this is so, as I have often watched them 

 swimming just ahead of the ship, apparently as fast as they 

 could, and yet have to take to the air because the ship was 

 travelling faster than they were. Apparently they are unable 

 to keep ahead of a ten-knot steamer unless they rise into the 

 air. In that case they immediately leave the steamer behind, 

 and must travel at a speed three or four times as fast as their 

 swimming speed. 



When surprised by dolphin, bonito, or albacore, they rise 

 from the water, as far as I have been able to see, exactly from 

 the spot where I had just seen them moving idly about, and 

 not from some distance away, as must have been the case if 

 they had had to gather way under water to give them impetus 

 through the air. The moment before, they had been moving 

 aimlessly about close to the surface, backwards and forwards, 

 round and round, in the vicinity of a mass of floating weed, 

 or something of that kind, and not swimming steadily in one 

 direction. 



Now for the flight itself. At the moment of rising from 

 the water the movement of the wings is plainly discernible, 

 even to the naked eye. After a small space of time, perhaps 

 two seconds, the movement becomes invisible even through 

 glasses, and the fish appears to float through the air with still 

 wings, outspread. The movement of the wings, while visible, 

 is tremendously fast, and the fish looks much like a dragonfly. 

 The stillness of the wings which follows is, I think, only 

 apparent, while in reality the wings are moving as fast as 

 ever. The conclusion I have come to is that when the fish 

 emerges from the water the wings are gleaming and iridescent, 

 and, flashing in the sun, show the movement quite distinctly. 

 The warmth of the air — they are seldom seen out of warm 

 latitudes — and the speed at which the wings are beating, dries 

 up the dampness and renders the wings dull, under which 

 condition their rapid motion becomes invisible. As soon as 

 the wings get very dry the fish has to make them damp again, 



