With their tiny statures and burying tendencies, you’d be forgiven for having not seen Schismatogobius. Hannah Taylor puts these dinky darlings under the spotlight.
HANNAH TAYLOR Hannah is an Oxfordshire-based aquarist with a passion for rare species conservation.
PUT GOBY INTO Google, and the first few hits won’t come as a surprise to anyone who has dabbled in the hobby for very long. One of the most speciose members of the Actinopterygii (that’s ray-finned fishes to you and I, the taxonomic class that comprises 50% or more of all known living vertebrate species), the order of the Gobiiformes boasts many thousands of species that can be found in freshwater, brackish and marine environments.
Despite this, the home aquarist would be forgiven for thinking that the brightest gems of the goby group—at least, those available in the hobby—are limited to the saltier side of things. The most common of the true freshwater species available in stores are primarily made up of Stiphodon, with Rhinogobius occasionally encountered. True, it is not unusual to find Brachygobius and Gobioides stocked, but these need brackish water to do well in the long term, making them unsuitable for most home setups. More discerning stores may also stock Sicyopterus or Sicydium, or have them come in as bycatch. Every so often, you may even be treated to one of those true oddities; a mudskipper of the Oxudercine genus, if you’re really lucky. Peacock and empire gudgeon are frequently seen but these close relatives lack that inimitable characteristic of the true gobies: the fused pectoral fins that enable them to suction themselves to glass, rocks, plants, or anything else—even the aquarist’s hand, if either party are so inclined.
But now there’s a new kid on the block in the lineup of available gobiidae.
A chance encounter
My first encounter with Schismatogobius happened by chance at The Goldfish Bowl in Oxford. They initially struck me as nothing special, visually at least; mottled brownish flanks barely discernible against the steel grey of the substrate. But those unmistakable fused pectoral fins and the ambiguity of the trade name—blue striped goby —piqued my interest; in a fit of impulsivity, I bought the whole tank.
It’s a common refrain amongst those in the hobby with a more scientific bent, but instances like this are where common names really fall down because, more often than not, the fish they refer to are anything but common. One so-called common name often
