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The Kuhli Loach - A Fish With Nine Lives

‘Kuhli loach’ is a name applied to a variety of eel-like fishes from the loach family. The nicest ones are attractively striped with vertical orange or yellow irregular bands on a black background, but there can be considerable variety in the stripe form and colour. There is also a pink fish, which has its own charm but isn’t quite as flashy as the others. Currently the Latin name is Pangio kuhlii, but as with many fish species and groups, there is a considerable amount of shuffling, and the colour forms have all been described as separate species at one time or another. Still, a kuhli is a kuhli by any other name, and they are easily identifiable in the fish shop – if you can see them they will be squirming around busily, hunting for a crack or crevice. If you can’t see them, it doesn’t mean they aren’t there – you wouldn’t think a bright yellow and black fish would be good at hiding, but there you’d be wrong…

My first encounter with kuhli loaches came many years ago, when I finally persuaded my mother that fishkeeping was a good hobby, and having set up a tank we went to purchase the fish. The first wave of new inhabitants comprised three platies, and the ‘fish with nine lives’ – a kuhli loach. On initial purchase he looked like a stripy bit of string. However, a while of living with the platies, who obligingly kept the bottom of the tank amply supplied with tasty baby fish, soon widened his girth to sausage status. Unfortunately, disaster was soon to strike. Unbeknownst to me, my mother was in the habit of doing water changes with the floor cleaning bucket. In spite of it being washed out before use, one day it didn’t get washed out enough (a cautionary message here – always keep separate equipment for your fish tank!) and the fish started to die… As the fish floated up one by one, the water got changed more and more frantically (with the bleach bucket). A week later, one fish remained – the kuhli loach, who appeared none the worse for wear although somewhat bemused with the lack of activity.

After replacement of the bucket and a thorough clean-up of the tank, he lived in splendid isolation for a while until it was decided to move to a new, bigger, planted tank, and restock. The kuhli was installed, and did what kuhlis do best – he vanished into the plants. For a while he would be seen coiled at the top of a clump of java fern, like a tree-roosting dragon, but eventually he got bored with that and was seen less and less. Java fern being java fern, regular thinning out was necessary, and periodically clumps would be taken out and thrown away, after a good shake to dislodge anything in there. Fortuitously, one day the bucket of waste plant got left, rather than immediately being binned. The next day, as it was being tipped into the bin, there was a flash of black and yellow at the bottom – the kuhli had passed the night uneventfully among the wet plants, and on reinstatement to the tank swam off quite happily. Finally my mother ran out of enthusiasm for a fish that was never seen, and the kuhli moved to one of my tanks, where he promptly disappeared.

I moved out all the rocks – no kuhli. I moved out all the plants and combed through them at length – no kuhli. I raked through the gravel – no kuhli. Sadly I concluded that for some reason his luck had run out and his corpse had been disposed of by the other fish, and eventually forgot about him. Some years later, the tank was due for an overhaul. All the fish were moved to other accommodation, the rocks removed and scrubbed, the plants taken out and de-snailed in a bucket. The water was drained down, so that all that remained in the tank was the wet gravel. By this time it was about eleven o’clock at night, and I decided the gravel could wait for the next day. In the morning, crawling about on top of the gravel like a little four-inch fat snake, was the long-lost kuhli. At this point he was about ten years old. He was moved with the other fish to the new tank, and I haven’t seen him about for a while. But whenever I’m counting up fish inches for stocking, I always factor in the kuhli – I think he still has a few lives left to go.

As you’ll gather from all this, Kuhlis are easy fish to keep. They prefer softish water, between 24 and 30C, and will eat anything they can find, although sinking live food (including baby fish) is a favourite. They are most active at night, so you can sometimes sneak up on your missing fish by creeping in and suddenly turning the lights on – not recommended as it stresses the fish, but it does enable you to ascertain your fish is still there. Since they will hide anyway, it is best to provide them some places they will actually like it – small caves and clumps of plants are favourite, although they will still dive down the undergravel pipe given half a chance. Kuhlis are extremely difficult to spawn in captivity. Perhaps difficult in the wrong word, because there are no reported occurrences of anyone achieving it by any deliberate efforts. Groups of larger fish, especially after water changes, sometime become very agitated, shooting around the tank and up and down, which on some occasions has been a precursor to spawning a quantity of scattered green eggs. On the other hand, you can change the water five times a day and get nothing but total disinterest from your kuhlis, so there must be some other factor at play. In the wild, the fish naturally spawn in groups in shallow water, so dropping the water level may have some effect. A more crucial factor is likely to be atmospheric pressure – wild spawning usually occurs after a sudden drop. As discussed in my book ‘Catfish with Character: Bristlenoses’ sudden atmospheric changes can herald the changing of the seasons, and spur fish into spawning. Unfortunately, there is not much the aquarist can do about dropping the atmospheric pressure, so spawning kuhlis is still a matter of rare luck – winning the lottery is more common, although sadly I haven’t achieved either.

Kuhlis are curious and attractive fish (when you can see them) and make placid tankmates for any but the smallest fish (fry sized – your prized tetras will be safe). They certainly can’t be guaranteed to put on a show at any time of your choosing, but most are a little less retiring than mine, especially if you feed sinking food in a dim light. Whatever the personality of your kuhli, with one or more of these in the tank you are guaranteed a few surprises!

This article was written by Kathy Jinkings and cannot be reproduced without her permission.


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