I set up my 102 gallon as a damsel tank: I love their color and fast movement. I traded off most of my corals during the change from my 54 gallon (which is now a freshwater) to the 102—and I’m trying to get the corals built back up.

Now, corals once happy can grow like bandits, even the stony ones. They want water with calcium in it, at a certain ph, and they want light, and food, and to be steady. Stable. Fixed as a rock.

But…certain damsels have this THING about Their Space. They want to decorate it (or not) a certain way.

Had this one piece of coral (we call it a frag) that kept falling down. No matter where I put it, it’d land on the sand.

Then I remembered: you know where in ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ they say—‘Pi-rate.’ ” Well. I’m picking up this frag for the umpteenth time, trying to keep it alive, and I see this fat little 3-stripe damsel (vertical slanting black and white stripes) unafraid of God or devil and hovering. And I think: “Oh, yeah. Dam-sel.”

Yep. An hour later that carefully wedged-in frag was on the bottom again. Put it back. DOwn again within the hour.

At this point I get in, soaked to the shoulder, retrieve the frag, and get some ‘reef putty’, that green white-cored stinky stuff well-known to plumbers. YOu knead it til it’s white, and you put the frag’s little butt in it, and you shove it in a hole in the rock. It shapes to the rock, dries hard, and that frag is stuck.

Little so-and-so struck at my hand when I put that frag back in. I persisted and pasted it to the rockwork.

So far, so good. The poor battered frag is starting to bloom again. The damsel is annoyed, but thus far it hasn’t taken it down.