I hear JM’s underwater scream from dozens of meters away. We often communicate like this during our dives, but the moment I hear this particular cry, I know immediately: JM has been stung by a lionfish.
Those who have been following us for a while know this fish. The lionfish is an invasive species in the Caribbean, making life difficult for native reef fish. They reproduce at lightning speed (tens of thousands of eggs every three days!) and their menu mainly consists of baby reef fish.
Because they usually hide under rocks and corals, they can’t be caught with a regular fishing line. That’s why divers are encouraged to hunt them with a spear or a Hawaiian sling. Hawaiian slingYou impale the fish on a spear and place it into a “zookeeper” zookeeper, a collection tube used to hold captured lionfish and keeps you protected from its venomous spines.
Fun fact: A lionfish has 18 venomous spines that contain neurotoxins, so handle with care!
What happened before?
Early in the morning, we left with Seanatives’ fast boat for two farewell dives at Oostpunt, together with a few fellow sailors. Bjorn dropped us at Black Rock to look for sharks. According to him, there aren’t many lionfish at this spot, but we still brought our spears and zookeeper. After all, in Curaçao, every dead lionfish is a good lionfish.
Soon, we spotted a few beautiful specimen at depth. JM shot one of these big guys, but just as he was about to place the fish into the zookeeper, things went wrong. The spear got stuck, his hand slipped down with the force he applied and right there, the lionfish caught his hand. Seven spines pierced his skin.
The pain was immediate and intense, a 9.5 on a scale of 10.Luckily, the nitrogen narcosis at that depth dulled the feeling slightly. We couldn’t just ascend; we first had to complete our deco stops. As we slowly went up, the pain grew worse. I stayed close to JM, ready to step in if something went wrong or if he started using his air too quickly because of the immense pain. Fortunately, his years of diving experience kept him calm despite the agony.
After twenty minutes, he finally climbed back on board with Bjorn. The rest of us finished the dive, we still wanted to find those sharks. A little later, Marian spotted two baby sharks, about a meter and a half long. Mission accomplished, tanks empty, time to go up and check on JM.
The painful remedy
On board, JM is very quiet, still suffering from the venom. The engine’s cooling water isn’t warm enough to neutralize the neurotoxins. Then it hits me: I was the only one who had coffee this morning. The rest of the thermos must still be full of hot coffee.
Moments later, JM is sitting with his hand in a bowl of steaming coffee. The heat breaks down the proteins in the venom and eases the pain, a choice between nearly burning your hand or enduring unbearable pain from the sting. Fortunately, his body’s reaction to the venom is limited to massive swelling of his hand. There’s nothing else to do but wait it out.
Another dive
After an hour, JM decides to join the second dive after all. The depth might ease the pain a bit and a distraction couldn’t hurt. We agree that he’ll go back up immediately if things don’t feel right. I help him put on his wetsuit and BCD, his right hand is paralyzed and completely useless.
We descend slowly. Everything goes fine, and at 30 meters the pain does seem to lessen a little. During the ascent, however, it returns. The coffee on board has cooled down by now, so he’ll just have to endure it.
Only later do we find out that he was stung seven times. Trying to suck out the venom from the first three stings hadn’t made much sense after all.
The aftermath
JM "enjoys" nine long hours of intense “fun” from those stings. By evening, just in time for our dinner reservation, he’s finally responsive again. Two days later, the swelling is completely gone, leaving behind nothing but a great story to tell family and friends.
Lesson of the day: even with 35 years of diving experience and hundreds of lionfish caught, the ocean can still surprise you.
