On a sunlit beach in Lanzarote, Canary Islands, a silvery ribbon of a fish washed ashore on February 10, 2025, catching the eyes of startled beachgoers. This was no ordinary catch. It was an oarfish — known in Japanese lore as the “Messenger of the Sea God” — a creature of the deep that rarely graces the surface. Legend calls it a “doomsday fish,” hinting at earthquakes or other impending disasters.
Within days, a video of the find racked up over nine million views on Instagram. “Something bad is going to happen,” one commenter warned. “They show up before natural disasters,” another chimed in.
Just weeks earlier, on the glassy shores of Baja California Sur, Mexico, another oarfish swam toward onlookers, its head breaching the water like a curious serpent. These twin sightings have stirred both awe and unease, reviving an ancient question: Does this elusive fish herald doom?
Despite the oarfish’s reputation as a prophetic messenger, suffice it to say it has no proven track record to back up its legends. However, this may be an instance of where there’s smoke there’s fire.
Sorting Fact From Folklore
The oarfish is, uhm, odd. Its long, eel-like body shimmers with a metallic sheen, accented by translucent orange fins that ripple like flames. It can stretch over 36 feet, making it the longest bony fish in the ocean. Typically, it lurks in the mesopelagic zone — hundreds to thousands of feet below the surface, where sunlight fades to black. Scientists know little about its life down there. Sightings near shore are rare, and it’s almost always when the fish are sick, disoriented, or about to die. Yet when they happen, the oarfish’s mystique takes center stage.
In Mexico, Robert Hayes, a 64-year-old retiree from Boise, Idaho, captured one such moment. Walking along Playa El Quemado with his wife, he spotted something odd slicing through the clear water. “My wife’s first impression was that it was a small shark coming straight at us,” Hayes told The Washington Post. He fumbled for his camera, unsure of what he was filming.
“The water was glassy, so you could see several feet into the water,” he said. The creature turned out to be an oarfish, its head raised a few inches above the surface. A nearby fisherman, a regular visitor to Baja California Sur, identified it instantly. “He’s come up here to die,” the man said on Hayes’s video, before trying to nudge it back to sea. This oarfish was quite small given how large they can grow, as Hayes was able to hold it with one hand.
The fish resisted. It looped back to shore in a 15-foot arc, then bored its head into the rocks. Hayes noticed a raw, coin-sized wound on its face — possibly a sign of infection. The fisherman scooped it up, intent on delivering it to a marine biologist. “What was really brilliant was its translucent orange fins,” Hayes recalled, marveling at its beauty. Whether it survived remains unknown. For Hayes, the encounter was a highlight of his retirement adventure — a fleeting brush with the wild unknown.
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Across the Atlantic, the Lanzarote oarfish sparked a different reaction. Found on Playa Quemada, it drew a man in swimwear who approached cautiously, as seen in the viral footage. Social media buzzed with dread. “Usually, it means that an earthquake is coming when it appears on the surface of the water,” one user wrote. The fear isn’t new. Japanese folklore calls the oarfish “ryūgū no tsukai,” a servant of the sea god Ryūjin, said to surface before earthquakes or tsunamis. The idea gained traction in 2011, when 20 oarfish washed up on Japan’s shores in the months before the devastating Fukushima quake. History fuels the legend, but does science back it up?
The Science Behind the Myth
Ted Pietsch, a professor emeritus at the University of Washington, has studied oarfish for years. He sees no doom in their appearances. “They come up every once in a while,” he told The Washington Post. “It’s called a ‘doomsday fish,’ because it’s supposedly a sign of doom or disaster.” Yet he dismisses the link to earthquakes as coincidence. “It would take the fish washing up in far greater numbers to signal broader distress in the ocean or among the species’ population,” he said. Instead, he points to a simpler truth: Oarfish surface when they’re in trouble. Storms, illness, or injury often drive them from their deep-sea homes. The Mexico specimen’s wound and the Lanzarote fish’s stranding fit this pattern.
Still, some scientists wonder if there’s more to the story. Rachel Grant, a lecturer in animal biology at Anglia Ruskin University, sees a potential thread. “It’s theoretically possible because when an earthquake occurs there can be a build-up of pressure in the rocks which can lead to electrostatic charges that cause electrically-charged ions to be released into the water,” she explained when an oarfish appeared off California in 2024.
This could form hydrogen peroxide — a toxic compound — or oxidize organic matter, harming or displacing deep-sea dwellers like the oarfish. Another hypothesis suggests carbon monoxide leaks from the seabed before quakes, disorienting fish. Evidence remains thin, but the ideas keep the debate alive.
These recent sightings aren’t isolated. Last August, a 12-foot oarfish washed up in La Jolla, California — only the 20th recorded instance there since 1901, according to the Scripps Institution of Oceanography. Days later, a 4.6-magnitude quake rattled Los Angeles. Coincidence, most say.
What Drives the Oarfish Up?
The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) notes that oarfish live between 660 and 3,280 feet, emerging only after storms or in distress. “Simply letting a fish go does not guarantee it will live,” NOAA advises on its catch-and-release guidelines. Handling matters — wet hands, minimal contact, and quick returns to water boost survival odds. “Less than 60 seconds is ideal,” they say. In Mexico, the group tried to save the oarfish, but its looping return suggests it was too far gone. Pietsch found its liveliness striking. “Nobody knows why they do this,” he said. “It’s the same as the mystery of why whales beach themselves.”
Could climate shifts play a role? Changing currents or warming waters might disrupt deep-sea habitats, pushing species upward. El Niño and La Niña cycles, tied to such shifts, have been linked to strandings in the past. Yet no clear data ties these oarfish to such trends. Pollution or sonar from submarines could also disorient them, Grant suggests. For now, the cause remains a puzzle — one that each sighting helps piece together.
Meanwhile, the oarfish swims on, an enigma in orange and silver. Its next appearance might settle the debate — or deepen the mystery.