Quest of the curly-tailed horses
February 24th, 2010A few weeks ago at the University Library, here in Cambridge, I made a rather wonderful discovery. I uncovered a forgotten hero of underwater filmmaking (and I found some seahorses).
Cambridge University Library. Photo by Nick in exsilio
I was doing some research for my next book proposal (and no, I’m not going to say what it’s about yet), and I did my usual trick of browsing a few books up and down from the one I came for. Unlike many other research libraries, the UL lets you walk among many of the shelves which means you often stumble on hidden treasures you weren’t expecting.
It’s interesting to see what books the library staff have chosen to catalogue together, using their baffling numbering system that seems determined to keep me wandering the shelves, cursing under my breath when the clockwork egg timer on the light runs out, plunging me into mid-isle darkness.
This time, on a shelf of natural history books I had passed by before, I noticed a title that set my eyes popping:
“Quest of the curly-tailed horses.”
How did I manage to miss this one when I was researching Poseidon’s Steed?
Big belly seahorse. Photo by Doug Deep
I was kicking myself. Surely, I’d been exhaustive in my search for seahorsey literature, and yet here was a neat volume, with a cute seahorse on the frontispiece. Of course the curly-tailed horses came right home with me that day. And over the following week I devoured the book in blissful evening installments while wallowing in the bath (one of my guilty pleasures).
And to my surprise, it wasn’t just the seahorses in this book that I adored, but my discovery of the man who wrote it. This book, it turned out, was the autobiography from the 1960s of an important, but virtually forgotten character in the world of underwater filmmaking and exploration: Noel Monkman. And what a life he led.
Monkman was born in New Zealand at the turn of the 20th century. The book begins in his troubled childhood spent in sullen boarding houses, being shifted from place to place by his father who attempted to keep him away from his mother after she made the unpardonable decision to continue with a music career instead of devoting herself to family life. Times were very different back then.
In delightful early chapters, Monkman describes his time spent on the New Zealand coast where he made friends with a local maori boy and together they discovered the extraordinary wildlife of the beach. They built a rock corral on the shore and filled it with their favourite creatures, including the curly-tailed horses.
Big belly seahorse. Photo by Richard Ling
They must have been Big-Belly Seahorses, Hippocampus abdominalis, since it’s the only species native to New Zealand. And at up to around 30cm or a foot from head to tail, these are the biggest seahorses in the world.
An amusing section in Chapter 6 describes his frustrations in trying to persuade the seahorses to eat. He offered them fish, bits of mussel, and all his own favourite foods: cake, biscuits, strawberry jam, plum pudding, apples, pears and plums. He even thought – being horses – he should try them on oats or bran. But no. The seahorses were having none of it.
Eventually, though, he cracks the puzzle of what seahorses eat, writing:
“As I lay beside the pool watching them, I noticed that occasionally one or other of them would turn slowly sideways as if watching something; then there would be a sudden flick of the head as if it had given a dainty little sneeze.”
Sneezing seahorses. What a lovely image!
Big belly seahorse. Photo by tassiesim
And how thrilled he was when he discovered the seahorses were feeding on minute animals.
“The worry about food for the curly-tailed horses had ushered us into a world of wonders.”
I’m not going to give too much more away because a big part of why I loved this read was knowing nothing at all about Noel Monkman before I started and uncovering so many gems along the way.
What I will say is that his childhood love of the seashore, and seahorses, stayed with him and through a series of jobs and adventures, work as a portrait photographer, building laborer and concert cellist, until Noel Monkman eventually found himself exploring the Great Barrier Reef in the 1930s accompanied by his wife, Kitty, making the first ever underwater films of the world’s biggest reef.
Their story echoes the famous explorations of another husband and wife team, Hans and Lottie Hass, and yet few people have heard of the Monkmans.
When I finished his book and began looking around online for more information about what happened to Noel Monkman, I was shocked to find so little.
So, I definitely recommend you track down a copy of Quest of the curly-tailed horses. Monkman led an extraordinary life with tireless dedication and ambition who we could all learn a thing or two from, and his book gives a vivid insight into what life was like back then. He truly is someone worth remembering.
A few more details:
- Noel Monkman died in 1969
- He wrote another book, Escape to Adventure, which is next on my reading list.
- This is the only other description of Monkman’s life and works I’ve found online so far. Don’t read it until after you’ve finished Quest of the curly-tailed horses, otherwise it might spoil the ending.
I’m going to begin searching for this book NOW.
That’s great Carolyn! I think there are a couple of second hand copies on amazon.com. When you find a copy, I’d love to hear what you think.
All best wishes, Helen
Hi Helen, gotta be a picky proofreader, and I love to hear that Mr. Monkman was a cellist, too (two “l”s) from one cellist and hippocampi enthusiast to another!
tomorrow night I will play in Portland at an adult recital of cellists. among friends I won’t be too nervous…
I am pleased to know you found unexpected books next door to other books, I like to look up words in a paper dictionary just so I bump into new words.
thanks for the discovery! Barbara
Hi Barbara,
Thanks for the spelling tip (hmmm, I wonder why my computer spell check didn’t pick that up?).
Have fun with your cello recital – I have come to adore the cello, but figure it might be too late for me to master it myself, so I shall leave it up to other, more talented folks (at my wedding, as I walked in, I had a friend play the prelude to Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 in G – bliss!)
I know exactly what you mean about paper dictionaries. One day I will save up and buy a copy of the Historical thesaurus of the OED. I’m sure I could loose myself in there for hours!
All best wishes
Helen
Hi Helen, I love it that your upcomoing science event says the obvious:
“Arrive on time”
13 March 12:15 – 13:00
I hope you have a timely and engaging crowd. That day we are also participating in a community outreach science day at our local science museum, the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry, Portland Oregon.Brain Fair
March 13, 9:30 a.m. – 5:30 p.m.
Learn about the amazing adaptive power of the brain when the largest Brain Fair in the country returns to OMSI March 13. The free fair is the grand finale of Oregon Health & Science University’s (OHSU) Brain Awareness Season 2010. This year’s cerebral celebration will include interactive exhibits, real human brains, crafts, demonstrations, prizes, and OHSU neuroscientists explaining their groundbreaking research.
best wishes!, Barbara
ps, the cello recital was a friendly fun evening, with the socializing after wards over coffee and cookies lasting longer than the music!
Hi Helen,
I was delighted to come across your website and your blog just now as I sit and struggle with preparing a talk for Earth Day on seahorses and marine conservation . . . you are an inspiration!
Best wishes,
Sara
Hi Sara,
How exciting that you’re doing a seahorse/oceans talk for Earth Day. I always fret terribly before I do public talks like the Science Festival one I did today… then it always ends up being a lot of fun. Enthusiasm is the key – as I’m discovering, through the live talks and radio I’ve done – and I’m sure you have heaps of that. Best of luck with it. I wish I could come! and I’d love to hear how it goes.
All best wishes
Helen
Hi Barbara,
Thanks so much for your well wishes for my Cambridge Science Festival talk. As always I worried terribly beforehand, but then, once I got going, I had a blast and enjoyed every moment. I had a nice big crowd (maybe 200) and many engaged smiley faces among them! So I think I did my job.
the Cambridge science festival is always a wonderful event. You should see the crowds of kids getting their hands on all sorts of science and experiments – fantastic stuff! And I’m sure your Brain Fair will have similar success – I love this sort of outreach. It’s the most direct and exciting way to enthuse people about science.
And I’m so glad your cello recital went well, and mixed in with a social gathering… sounds perfect!
Let me know how your brain fair goes.
Warm wishes, Helen