As I said here, fish names are a tangle, and Andy Martin, writer, academic, and (according to Wikipedia) “the first surfing correspondent to The Times (London),” quickly had his fill of them when trying to produce a new translation of Vingt mille lieues sous les mers, as he reports in an Opinionator post:
Somewhere around page 3 of “Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea,” I got this feeling that I was starting to drown in fish. There are an awful lot of fish down there, and there were possibly even more in the middle of the 19th century. Whereas my ichthyological vocabulary, whether in French or English or indeed any other language, was severely limited. The fish (and assorted oceanic mammals), in other words, far outnumbered my linguistic resources. I now know I should just have boned up on fish, the way any decent, respectable translator would have done. […]
Instead I started counting how many pages there were and calculating how much I was getting paid per fish. It didn’t add up. I realize now that I should have switched to “Around the World in Eighty Days” – there are far fewer fish in that one.
He goes on to describe how his Dutch translator simply omitted a metaphor he was mildly proud of, and how a French translator mangled “the classic Groucho Marx joke, which goes (in one of its variants), ‘You’re only as old as the woman you feel.'” Funny stuff; thanks, David and Bonnie!