Fishy lexicology = science + whimsy
The recipe for naming fish: Mix Latin and Greek, add the spice of free association

Once upon a time — OK, the 1700s — there was a Swedish botanist named Carl Linnaeus.
Linnaeus became obsessed with creating “binomial nomenclature” for every living thing, inventing two words per creature, arbitrarily using Latin and Greek with genus first (a category of animal), then species (a specific on the theme).
The guy was on the spectrum for sure; obsession drove him to publish “Systema Naturae” in 1758. Amazingly, many of the names he invented exist to this day, other biologists adding on but deferring to his structure.
We live in a fishy place with a fishy name, so here are some formal fish monikers, associations free and otherwise intriguing.
Atlantic cod: Gadus morhua
Gotta start here, though this one isn’t as linguistically interesting as some. Gadus is Latin for a generic fish, cod being the quintessential expression. Morhua is Latin for our kind of cod.
American lobster: Homarus americanus
Homarus comes via Latin to French for lobster, the americanus tag created in 1837 by a French zoologist to indicate that the Northeast, big-clawed, hard-shell version is our true national standard.
Quahog: Mercenaria mercenaria
Linnaeus knew Native Americans used wampum as currency among other things, and wampum came from quahog shell. So he created this name as in mercantile exchange, money money.
Skate: Leucoraja ocellata
In Greek leukos means white, in Latin raja means fish and ocellata means marked with spots. Two languages for one, which happens often enough.
American plaice (sometimes we say ‘dabs’): Hippoglossoides platessoides
Hippo means horse in Greek, and glossa means tongue. Oide is a suffix for similar to. So plaice resembles a horse tongue. Platessa is Latin for flatfish, again followed by similarity; actually, plaise aren’t similar to flatfish, they are flatfish.
Halibut: Hippoglossus hippoglossus
The horse tongue comparison is here as well, but twice. Maybe because they’re bigger.
Jonah crab: Cancer borealis
Cancer is Latin for crab, also used then as now; the shape of tumors suggested crabs. Borealis means northern waters, as in aurora borealis, lights in northern skies.
Green crab: Carcinus maenas
The fun part is that maenas translates as frenzied, raving, deriving from the Maenads, Greek women known to get drunk and crazy, followers of Dionysius. For those who know green crab behavior, this makes sense.
Conch: Busycotypus canaliculatus
The first word puts conch in a genus of edible sea snails. The second, grooved or channeled in Latin (as in canals), acknowledges the shell surface between whorls.
Bay scallop: Argopecten irradians
Argo is Jason’s mythical Greek ship with Argonauts onboard, chosen perhaps because these bivalves propel through the water. Pecten is Latin for comb, as they look. Irradians also is Latin, to shine or radiate, as they do in the water.
Sea scallop: Placopecten magellanicus
Pecten (comb) shows up for another scallop, while placo means flat, so a flat comb. Magellan was a Portuguese explorer, straits between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans named for him. How this relates to scallops is a mystery to me.
Dogfish: Squalidae
Lest we forget, dogs are sharks, which is squalidae in Latin.
Monkfish: Lophius americanus
Lophius is Greek, meaning mane or crest. This must refer to spines that protrude from the dorsal fin. Americanus, as with lobster, makes clear that monkfish are one of our own.
Longfin squid: Loligo pealeii
Loligo is a classification for various squid species. Linneaus liked the work (or personality) of a contemporary 18th-century Philadelphia painter named Charles Peale, so gave Peale a prop with pealeii. Go figure; maybe an inside joke?
Atlantic salmon: Salmo salar
Salmo in Latin is salmon, and salar means to leap. Makes sense to anyone who has seen a salmon run.
Atlantic surf clam: Spisula solidissima
Spisula is genus for bivalves. Solidissima is Latin meaning hard or solid, which is true about these shells — though mercenaria mercenaria might be even harder.
Scup: Stenotomus chrysops
In Greek stenos is narrow, stoma is mouth, and chrysops is golden-eyed (akin to cyclops, one-eyed, as any optometrist will tell you). A fun if incomplete description.
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