What kind of scumbag would steal a seahorse from his happy little home beneath the waves?
There he sits harming no one, simultaneously swivelling both eyes in different directions, mating for life, and giving birth to his babies. That’s right. His babies. Seahorses are the only species on earth that trust this task to a male.
And that’s not even why they’re called Hippocampus erectus. Despite their horny appearance, they probably don’t even have anything to get an erection with. They don’t need it. A female simply lays her eggs inside his pouch and this amazing little bloke fertilises and carries them for about three weeks before giving birth.
Which is all pretty ironic as the bums who are poaching them are selling them on the black market to be ground up and sold for erectile dysfunction.
Chinese medicine, hugely on the rise in this age of jaded western medicine, has dozens of other uses for these defenceless creatures once they are dried and pulverized . Other lowlife are passing them along to rich aquarium owners in Asia and Australia. Along Australia’s coast their numbers are down as much as 95%.
Without the added scourge of a thriving black market, the seahorses are doing it tough. Warming oceans and boats anchoring in their delicate habitats are decimating the little sponge gardens, seagrass beds and soft corals they call home. And wrecking their food supply.
To save them from extinction, a ‘Seahorse Hotel’ is being planned within the gorgeous Parsley Bay in Sydney’s inner harbour. A year-round net in the water that they can hang onto, goggle their eyes and do their tranny thing.
In ancient mythology, mighty Poseidon, God of the Sea, chose seahorses to pull his carriage. Bad tempered and bi polar, his wrath called down storms and tsunamis and watery deaths on anyone who pissed him off.
May he now rule as the protector of the new “Seahorse Hotel” and wreak havoc on the erections of anyone evil enough to kill a Hippocampus Erectus for a lousy hard-on.