Diving Physiology in Sea Turtles

A Green Sea Turtle Swims Effortlessly

   Recently, I was swimming in front of Hulihee’s Palace.  About twenty feet below me, a green sea turtle swam out from beneath a coral head and made his way to the surface.  Once there, he gulped air four times over about two minutes.  Following this relatively small bit  of breathing (during the same two minutes I breathed in and out no fewer than 20 times) he headed back down in his leisurely sea turtle fashion.

   This got me to thinking about sea turtles and their ability to stay submerged for long periods.  We, who are swimming on the surface and enjoying a regular supply of good old uncle oxygen, take for granted the relaxed beauty of a sea turtle as he swims nearby through the clear water, not on the surface taking a breath every few strokes.  So independent of breathing do turtles appear, that it is difficult to remember that these are not fish; turtles are air breathing vertebrates.  And so the question arises:  What is their secret?   How is it that a green sea turtle can dive 100 meters and stay submerged for three hours?

After Taking a few Breaths, the Turtle Dives

    As an anesthesiologist, I needed to know a fair amount about respiratory physiology.  This subject is not just lung volumes, but the characteristics of hemoglobin and acid base status.  As it turns out, sea turtles have lungs that are a bit more developed than most other reptiles, but not the equal of the fine alveolar system that we mammals possess.  And their hemoglobin is not that different from ours.  What turtles do better than mammals, is manage their carbon dioxide and pH and, most amazingly, tolerate incredible cerebral hypoxia.

    If you are denied a breath, your pO2 will fall to life threatening levels in 5 minutes.  Our brains are not terribly tolerant of a pO2 below 70 mm Hg.  At that point the neurons (brain cells) die. 

     On the other side of the equation, if you are able to provide pulmonary oxygen but keep the patient apneic (which, in a laboratory, is not quite as big a trick as you might think) the pCO2 will rise about 6 torr per minute.  For every 10 torr rise in PCO2, your pH drops by 0.1.  Mammalian life becomes difficult below a pH of 7.1.  
    

A Turtle Swims By Out On Paul Allen's Reef

   All of that may seem more than a little pedantic, but these are simple facts of mammalian respiratory physiology.  Here are some of the corresponding facts about sea turtle diving physiology.  In an unrestricted dive, loggerhead sea turtle pO2 dropped from 112 to 4 after only 25 minutes.  In that same period, the pCO2 increased only about 10 torr (to about 50 torr) and pH did not decrease by more than .1 to above 7.2.  The numbers associated with carbon dioxide and acid base status speak to an amazing buffering ability in the sea turtle blood.  (an incredible amount of carbon dioxide is converted to some other substance like bicarb).  Isn’t it amazing that a turtle can completely recharge this buffering system in a few breaths?  Or to look at it another way, if you were to carry around all the CO2 you discharge over three hours, you would need a 15 gallon bag (assuming that only 4% of your exhaled gas is carbon dioxide...a percent achieved at minimal exertion.)

A Green Sea Turtle in the Crystal Water of Ho'okena

Before moving on, it is important to note that researchers make a great deal of the unrestricted dive.  Not a lot of information on the biochemistry of sea turtle diving has been accumulated, because it is hard to accumulate data in a truly unrestricted turtle.  Sea turtles are remarkably adapted for diving, with their front legs transformed into hydrofoils and the sleek slope of their carapace.  But more than the physical characteristics, note the  leisurely, oxygen conserving manner in which they swim, which also produces far less carbon dioxide.  Though it seems so nonchalant, the unrestricted dive is critical to the turtle.  When in a tether, (a situation in which monitors may be more easily applied) the turtle struggles, oxygen consumption and the  PCO2 rise and the pH falls.  A struggling, or actively swimming, turtle needs to breath more often. 
    
    Most incredible to me, sea turtles tolerate an unbelievable amount of cerebral hypoxia.  Other turtles have an increased tolerance for brain hypoxia, but no other vertebrate comes close to the tolerance that sea turtles exhibit.  Intracerebral ATP (the biochemical battery of life) is preserved in the face of remarkably low arterial oxygen content.  There are articles on calcium and adenosine metabolism and the ability of the sea turtle to reduce its cerebral metabolic rate.  Medical researchers are very interested in how sea turtles defy the ravages of cerebral hypoxia and study these phenomenon in hopes that it might provide therapy for victims of

Protected Sea Turtles in Kona Spend More Time on the Beach

stroke and other brain injury.
 
     Here in Kona, we get used to observing green sea turtles at the surface.  It is my contention that us hau’olis have created a safe environment where the turtles can live at the surface or on the shore without danger of predation.  In the rest of the watery world, sea turtles spend no more than 6% of their time at the surface.  So when you are snorkeling out by the palace or at City of Refuge and you see a turtle swim out from a resting place near the bottom, just think a bit about what an amazing animal you are observing.   If you are lucky, you may see the turtle compensate for hours of underwater apnea with a few gulped breaths.

A Christmas Gift from Canon D10

Which Costume Are You Wearing This Season?

   Well, the yuletide is upon us.  Time for us to enjoy the spirit of giving.  We can all give a little by being patient with our fellow drivers (especially if they are over 90), making sure our trash goes in the appropriate receptacle and not stepping on the coral.  Just for once, hop down off Mount Crumpet and be the Anti-Grinch.

   Of course, if you are like me, its just as much fun to receive as to give.  Yesterday at K Bay it was both Yuletide and low tide, making the entry a bit painful on the feetsies.   But the water was still well this side of freezing, which was a pretty good gift in and of itself.  It was a little cloudy until one got over by the breakwater and the number of fish was hideously low.  So few butterflyfish were seen that I thought that the Grinch might have snuck into the bay the night before and taken them back to his

 Black Sided Hawkfish   Paracirrhites forsteri, Kahalu'u  12/12

aquarium supply shop to, er, fix the lights.  I fear, though, that no matter how many evil fisherman and aquarists lurk, some other nefarious force is at work...see Al Gore, An Inconvenient Truth.

   I worked my way out towards surfer rock and was rewarded with a big, fat Freckle-Faced Hawkfish.  I know, I know, its called Black-sided now, but if anyone took the trouble to look at the fish, they would see how ludicrous that name change was.  Right, Mr. Freckle?  Anyway, this guy was indeed big and fat.  You only need to hang around the Big Island Grill for an hour or so to realize that from the days of the Alii right up to the present, big and fat is a compliment in these very Sandwich Islands.  This guy was very cooperative and rewarded me with my best picture of a Freckle-faced Hawkfish ever. 

Is it a Two Spot Wrasse?

     A gift like that is nice, but on the other side of Surfer's Rock lurked the 60 inch Plasma with surround
sound.  As I turned into that shallow patch of clear water I was presented with a fish I knew I had never seen before.  He was schooling with immature parrotfish, and bird and saddle wrasses.  Irregular fins and shiny patches, as if some 10 year old girl had glued on miniature sequins, this three inch wrasse was jinking around much like a small elegant coris.  Odd body positions and sudden movement in unexpected directions.  (It is not for nothing that I do not have a super picture of Elegant Coris.  Its a common fish, but a spooky devil.)  I followed this little guy around in the still but shallow water for a few minutes, getting a number of pictures.  I wasn't sure he was ever in great position relative to the camera, so I just kept following and shooting.  I could tell he was a bit darker posteriorly and ventrally, but the irregular fins and the shiny spotted coat was what held my attention.  By the time I was done, I had convinced myself that this was a fish I had never seen before.  And I ask you,  "What better gift can Kris Kringle put in my flipper than a life fish?"

Shortnose Wrasse, imm, Macropharyngodon geoffroy  Kahalu'u 

     The rest of my swim was uneventful and I soon found myself on the beach, looking at the books provided by the Kahalu'u Reef Social Club.  Just after I had decided that my fish was a Two Spot Wrasse, a young lady from the Social Club approached and inquired politely, "Do you have any questions, Sir?"  She was in her mid-thirties, a decade or three younger than many of the Social Clubbies, and substantially less chubby than our hawkfish.  She had a sincere approach and just a hint of a West Virginia twang.  Was she channeling Clarice Starling?  I should have been nicer, but so full of hubris was I, that I said, "No.  But I have some answers."  Who the hell did I think I was, Paul Krendler?  Our relationship took a frosty turn, but I told her of my Two Spot Wrasse, what a great fish it was and how, if she hurried she might find it doing the Watusi behind Surfer's Rock.

    At this point we need to scoot ahead a few hours, the water camera has been soaked, Paul Krendler has had his nap and we are plugging the SD card into the old, but trusty, laptop.  And what we see, after a bit of

Shortnose and Saddle immatures 12/13/12

 photo shopping, is what you see above.  I'm calling it an immature Shortnose Wrasse.  The Canon D10 does not lie.  No wonder amazing sightings need to be corroborated by real evidence.  This individual is intermediate between the two pics that my friend John Hoover has in the Ultimate Guide.  In my copy of Randall, no immature is pictured.

    This was not a life fish...I saw my very first shortnose less than a year ago at Beach 69 and one since on Paul Allen's reef.  How does the appearance of this previously very rare fish jibe with the diasappearance of all the butterflyfish in K Bay?  Good question, no?

     So...am I forgiven?   Stat page for Officer Starling and the entire Social Club.  I'm sorry, already.  We have recently received a commission from Dr. Randall to look for the Silhouette Soldierfish right around the pier.  It might not be Hannibal's dining room on the shore of Chesapeake Bay, but a propeller in the skull may trump a craniotome.  In the meantime, I'll try to be better behaved, the better to avoid the looming lump of coal. Like the T-shirt says at K-mart, "I've been pretty good for the last two weeks."  Or not.

jeff

Christmas is coming, Mr. Freckle's getting fat.

 Won't you please put a flounder in the poke vat.
If you haven't got a flounder, a Saddle Wrasse will do.
If you haven't got a Saddle Wrasse then God bless you.
God Bless You, Pufferfish, God Bless You!
If you haven't got a Saddle Wrasse then
God Bless You.

 

  

A Colony of Bluestripe Snapper

Jeff Poses with the Octopus, Bonaire 2009. Are we being followed?

    Paul Allen has returned to Kona.  This time he is driving the Octopus, his mega-yacht that looks like a small cruise ship with a helipad on the back.  The Octopus was floating off shore as I swam on Paul's eponymous reef this morning.  I'm hoping that someone will let him know that I am trying to popularize that bit of coastline as Paul Allen's Reef.  Maybe I'll receive an invitation to dine aboard the Octopus with the great man himself.   If you're out there and you know Paul Allen, let him know that I would be delighted to sing (through my trusty snorkel) the octopus doxology as a pre-dinner toast.  I'd love to see that boat.  But I digress.

    The main thrust of this evening's symposium is the Bluestripe Snapper.  At least three game fish have been introduced to Hawaii.  All three are reputed to be ciguatoxic, so from the standpoint of dinner, the experiment has been less than a total success. Looking at pure numbers, though,  the Argus Grouper, has been a remarkably successful transplant.  One sees a gazillion of these blue and silver fish scooting around the reef.

    The other two nouveau fishe are snappers...Blacktail and Bluestripe.  Both used to be fairly common...twenty years ago.  Now their numbers have dwindled. The Blacktail is slightly more common than the Hawaiian Hogfish.  Which is to say just this side of rare.   In the last six months I have seen one immature Hawaiian Hogfish.  Such a rare sighting that it took me an hour with the books to puzzle out the ID.  In that same time I have seen maybe two Blacktail Snapper.  I caught one especially approachable individual at City of Refuge.  Look for his picture in the Summer in the City blog.  Tell Paul, if he would like, that I will sing my version of that great Lovin' Spoonful hit along with his karaoke machine aboard the Octopus as an after dinner treat.  Or not...its totally his choice.

Bluestripe Snapper,  Kailua Kona 2012

    The Bluestripe Snapper is slightly more common than the Blacktail.   But still not a common fish.  Just recently, though, a colony of this black eyed beauty has appeared on the Ironman side of the pier.  I see them every time, just on the shore side of the big orange buoy to which the Body Glove attaches her bow line.  There they reside among some luscious coral,  in ten easy feet of Kona crystal.  I don't mind revealing this location because, as above, they are not safe to eat.  If Paul, or one of his guests would like to take a look, tell them to contact me here at jhill257.  We'll leave a fish out for you.

How can the Great Paul Allen, he for whom is named the magnificent Paul Allen's Reef,  resist these Handsome Snappers?   (Not to mention the photographer and his lovely bride?  Who are awaiting the invite with bells on.)

The Fish Ball

Airman Adrian Cronauer Slurps a Fishball

   For many of us, when we think of a fish ball, we think of something swimming in an excessively spicy Asian soup...the broth that made Robin Williams gag when all he really wanted was to make time with the pretty Vietnamese girl in Saigon.   Here in Kailua this term is applied to a  large conglomeration of fish.  Frequently it is called a bait ball.  For the last month or more, we have been graced by a large, teeming mass of fish right in Kailua harbor.  On several occasions, I have had the opportunity to swim among this multitude.  A week ago, with our daughter Leslie, we had a chance to see something pretty amazing and get some photographs in clear water.

Four Ulua Hunting at Kailua Pier

    That day the mass of fish in question was fairly close in, only as far out as the second swim buoy.  In fact, we swam past it and were attracted back to it by four ulua swimming with purpose.  In Hawaii, the term ulua is applied to several large jacks.  Most commonly Blue Fin Trevally.  This is a handsome fish that is seen frequently, hunting singly or in pairs.  One never sees an ulua with out the sense that it is hunting.  Like a wolf.  (A couple times I have seen ulua that were three feet in length and wondered if they were considering me as a tasty morsel.)  One or two ulua may hunt with some other fish, like a Multibar Goatfish.  However, it is not common to see four hunting together.  So we followed them a few meters and they brought us to the ball of fish.

Blue Fin Trevally with Big Eye Scad

     As we approached the large mass of fish, we had an additional treat.  There were not four trevally hunting the scad, but at least ten.  I had never seen so many Blue Fin Trevally in one place.  I watched them for about fifteen minutes.  Although ulua always look like they are hunting, I have never seen them take a fish as prey.  On this day they swam through the school singly or in larger formations, apparently looking for a weaker fish that would be easy prey.  I was reminded of Richard Dreyfus in Never Cry Wolf explaining how the wolves keep the caribou strong.  These ulua were busy doing their part to keep the scad strong..On my watch, they did not find a weak individual and I still haven't seen a trevally take another fish.

Big Eye Scad, Kailua Kona November 2012

     We had seen this bait ball several times before, but always at least ten feet deep and always in cloudy water.  Today the multitude was swimming in clear water, frequently very near the surface.  These delightful conditions afforded us the opportunity to take a few good pictures.  These photos permit us to identify the fish as Big Eye Scad, another member of the jack family.

   We've been interacting with this group of fish for a while and you may recall that I've been calling them scad.  However, when I repaired to the field guides, I had to admit that the distinction between Big Eye Scad and Hawaiian Flagtail, at least for us amateurs who don't actually have the fish in a lab, is pretty darn subtle.   They are roughly the same size, relatively deep bodied and silvery.  The immature flagtail, a common tidepool fish, has a tail striped black and white.  There is no banner on the caudal fin of the adult.   After a lot of consideration, I have decided that the best field mark is a concavity of the snout  on the flagtail.  Additionally, the caudal fin of the scad is a little finer and more scissor-like, but this is a softer call and relies on judgement.

Big Eye Scad.  No concavity on the snout!

   Furthermore, behavior doesn't help very much.  Both form aggregations in calm shallow water by day and disperse at night to feed.  Both are apparently taken as food fish.  I wonder if the Hawaiians have trouble differentiating the akule from the aholehole?   And how do they taste?  Perhaps I should ask the ulua.

jeff

Today's blog is dedicated to my brother, Chuck Hill, on his big 6 0.  Chuck is a fantastic writer and the Kona Beach Blog was his idea.  He has been an invaluable source of advice and encouragement.  So Happy Birthday, Chuck!  This fish is for you!

jwh
   

Batesian Mimicry in the Immature Flying Gurnard

How far do I have to haul this thing?

   Of late, we have enjoyed some interesting sightings.  On my last swim with Charles, on the Ironman side of the Kailua pier, we found a modestly sized blood crab in an enormous Marlinspike Auger.  Why a hermit crab would choose to haul that 15 cm shell over the coral is a  question for the ages.  But our experience with an immature Flying Gurnard two days ago is even more thought provoking.

   It is widely accepted that some large moths (and a few butterflies) through evolutionary pressure, have developed large spots on their wings as a form of Batesian mimicry.  The large spots suggest the eyes of an owl and in this model deter predators, such as lizards and birds, that are taken by owls as prey.   The polyphemus moth, which ranges over much of North America, is a classic example. 
 

Polyphemus Moth, Dan Mackinnon

   Henry Walter Bates was a British naturalist who studied the insects of the Brazilian rainforest.  He worked for over a decade, collecting and cataloging the insects.  In the process, he noted that the wing pattern of some butterflies closely resembled that of a vastly disparate species.  Back at the Linnaean Society in London, he proposed that one species of butterfly had developed the wing pattern of another less desirable species as a defense mechanism against predators.  While Bates was considering his butterflies, Darwin and Wallace were independently working on the theory of evolution.  Thus, Batesian mimicry was immediately proclaimed as a classic example of this radical new theory of evolution;  the tasty butterflies had evolved the wing pattern of the nearly identical poisonous species.  And, of course, Bates was derided by

God Creating Batesian Mimicry

those who chose not to accept an explanation for the natural world that did not involve a creative deity. (Thanks to Wikipedia from which this information has been condensed.)

    A bit of thought will show that if moths have spots that look like the eyes of an owl, it is not classic Batesian mimicry.  And papers have been written to suggest other adaptive reasons for these large eye-like spots.  Never the less, the idea that the wing spots on large moths have evolved to mimic the eyes of an owl is firmly entrenched.  Not only that, but lots of other animals have eye patterns.  (The Ferruginous Pygmy Owl of Mexico has an eye pattern on the back of his head!)

    With that background, I will bring you back to the cool waters of the inner harbor.  Not out by King Kamehameha's heiau, but right by the sandy beach, where, having completed my swim, I was just getting

Flying Gurnard prior to agitation.

 ready to stand up and remove my fins.  At this climactic moment I looked down to find a small Flying Gurnard.  He was grazing peacefully on the soft sand with his wings tucked in at his sides.  In this posture, he blended in and it required a probing eye to pick him out.  As I approached him for a picture he did something that I had not seen before.  He flitted quickly, simultaneously opened his fins to their full extent and raised his poisonous dorsal spine.  (Gurnards are closely related to scorpionfish.)  Not only that, his colors became instantly more vivid.  I have never seen a more beautiful gurnard!  I proceeded to stalk him across the floor of the lagoon, seeing this behavior four or five more times and capturing a few pictures.

    As a social aside, I spotted the gurnard a few feet away from three chubby adults of a certain age...two matrons and a gentleman.  They had been standing in that very spot, pot belly deep in the lagoon, when I shoved off thirty minutes before, recounting every foible of every person known to them.   And there they stood in full gossip, not the least disturbed that a crazed snorkeler was turning watery doughnuts, hard by their chubby elbows.  (Two ladies taking pictures on the beach were more interested in our exciting observations.)

Flying Gurnard in signal coloration.  Do you see the eyes?

Back at Casa Ono, looking at my photographs, I could not help but be reminded of owl eyes.  Do you see them?  Certainly, the sea is full of classic examples of Batesian mimicry.  Sandra and I saw many Mimic Angelfish in Bali and a few of the poisonous pufferfish that they so faithfully impersonate.  And a few fish (the Devil Scorpionfish with his brilliant red and yellow axillae comes to mind) will flash bright colors, encouraging you to abort your unwise approach. 

Never the less, I can not get away from the image of these eyes peering back at me from the fins of the immature gurnard.  To the best of my knowledge,  there are no owls in the sea.  Thus, I am left wondering just what they might represent from an evolutionary point of view.  And does this similarity between "eyes" on the wings of the gurnard point to the adaptive significance of similar owl eye-like pattern in other animals?

jeff  October 2012

Ironman Heats Up with a Shortnose Wrasse

Ironman Racers Training on Alii Drive

    It has become increasingly  apparent that we here in Kona are in the midst of a world class event.  The number of Ironman participants increases daily along with spectators.  The biggest surprise has been the number of foreign athletes.  We see them swimming and running and zipping around town on their fancy bikes.  And talking in a variety of peculiar foreign languages.  A large Belgian contingent speaks Flemish.

  While the triathletes are otherwise distracted,  I take full advantage by hitting on their dishy SOs.  Yesterday  I observed a lady sitting on the pier for at least 45 minutes.  She was from Adelaide, of all places, and she was waiting for her man to return from the sea.  If only I had been wearing Old Spice.  We spoke briefly of the Barossa Valley, home of worthy red wine and a few good birds...the feathered kind. The conversation dwindled as her eyes returned to the restless ocean.   I  took my leave,  noting that her husband was bound to return sometime.   (As previously reported, drowning is not in the spirit of the Ironman.)

)

An Interlude for the Ironmen
 

   Today, as I wandered down to the pier, I was accosted by a series of poster boards bearing the likenesses of previous winners of the Ironman.  Bleachers now cover the sidewalk near the pier.  Curiously, they face the street.  Shouldn't they face the water where the swimming is going to take place?

Shortnose Wrasse male, Kailua Kona, October 2012, 3 feet

Of course, they face Alii Drive where the triathletes will stumble to the finish line.  I mean, can you imagine a 2.4 mile swim, a 112 mile bike ride followed by a marathon?  Oy!

    I was so full of Ironman spirit that I tried to volunteer.  The nice lady in the Ironman officeinside the King Kam hotel said that someone would call.  I'm still waiting.

    After leaving the Ironman office, I put on my swim shirt and trademark beanie and hit the beach.  The multitude around town corresponds to more people in the water...swimming, paddle boarding, kayaking and going for rides in overpowered zodiacs.

    I entered the water in front of the hotel and wound my way through all of the above.  Even out on Paul Allen's Reef it wasn't completely peaceful, but the water was very clear and surging moderately.  I took advantage of the mild conditions to patrol the shallows.  I was hoping for a Five Lined Wrasse, a beautiful species restricted to the shallow shelf facing the pounding sea.   Two winters back, we saw that uncommon fish a few times in the surging shallows in front of Kona Makai and twice here on the PAR.  I haven't seen one now in a year and a half and its not for lack of trying.  I'm very trying...just ask Sandra.

Shortnose Wrasse, Macropharyngodon geoffroy Oct. 2012

 

Anyway, I'm paddling along through the Kona Crystal, washing back and forth over the coral a scant two feet below my delicate torso, when suddenly I see a Shortnose Wrasse.  It was a beautiful little fish, about three inches in length with electric blue markings.  Dr. Randall tells us that the lines on his head make him a male.  And this guy was a stud.  He permitted me to flounder near him for about five minutes.  By getting the sun behind me, I was able to capture him with his blue marking fully illuminated. 

    This was only the second time I've seen this species.  Last year I saw one at Beach 69.  The water was a little cloudy, so pictures today were remarkably better.  That aside, Makaleia Bay is rather peaceful when compared to the wave washed

Five Line Wrasse, Kona Makai, January 2011, 2 feet

environment of the PAR.  None of my references state that this fish is not found in the wave washed shallows, but having seen my one and only shortnose in a peaceful bay, I figured that's where they belonged.  I guess, based on this sighting, that my single anecdotal experience led me to an erroneous conclusion.  And we should keep our eyes peeled for a third shortnose in every location, from Kona Makai to K Bay.  In the meantime, I'm gonna keep scouting the wave washed shallows.  If you see Mr. Five Line, tell him I'm looking for him.

jeff

The Ironman and the Sea Monster

   Sandra and I are sportsmen, not quite like Michael Phelps and Lance Armstrong, but we enjoy seeking out important venues and interacting with them.  When I was birdwatching in Australia, I had the opportunity to drive the course of the Australian Grand Prix in Adelaide.  A few years later, Sandra and I drove the route of the Tour de France as it approaches Mt. Ventoux.  Right now in Kona, we are preparing for the most prestigious triathlon, the Ironman.  Two days ago the organizers placed huge orange buoys along the swimming course and signs along the roadways admonishing drivers to respect training athletes. 

   Two nights ago we decided that we would take a swim on the course.  We're not really triathletes, so our goal was to swim a mile, as opposed to the 2.4 miles that the Ironmen and women swim.

Triathletes chill out after the training event

And , of course we were going to be wearing masks, fins and snorkels.  But compared to driving the route of a bicycle race, it seemed like a worthy participation.

    We arrived at the pier to discover that a training event was just wrapping up.  There were tents providing the competitors shade and sustenance and lots of buff bodies, bikes,etc.  Every now and then, as we changed into our swimming gear, a runner would come in to cheers and applause.  Soon we were in the water, heading out on our own Ironman swim.
As we swam we were careful to stay out of the lane used by the training swimmers.

     As I reached the last of the usual swim  buoys, now dwarfed by a huge orange Ironman buoy, I paused and looked for Sandra.  She had stalled about ten yards to my left, obviously looking at something below.

Overtaking the Jelly

 
     Not wanting to miss out, I adjusted course and swam towards her.  Suddenly, I found myself overtaking a large pelagic jellyfish.  I had admired this species while studying John Hoover's Hawaii's Sea Creatures.  Knowing that it was pelagic, I had little hope of ever seeing one.  Wowser!  The jelly was cruising along slowly, rhythmically constricting the edge of the bell.  It took only a moment to summon Sandra, who was equally impressed.

    The jelly was at least three feet long, counting its rope-like tentacles.  The bell was a luminous purple with a light brown and black fringe.  Near the bell, the tentacles increased in size and changed form red to a creamy ivory.  This was an incredibly handsome animal!

Pelagic Jellyfish, Thysanostoma spp.  Kailua Kona 2012

    And the jelly was not alone.  There were several fish living among the tentacles.  The smallest were immature Golden Trevally, which look quite a bit like Sergeant Major Damselfish at first glance.  Also among the tentacles were two filefish.  The larger of the two was about six inches, the smaller about half that size.  The smaller guy stayed deeper in the tentacles, at times nosing right into the bell.  Both had a white honeycomb pattern superimposed over  a brown base with black spots at the center of each polygon.   We swam around the pulsating jellyfish with its curious cargo, taking lots of pictures while keeping a respectful distance from the large tentacles.

Unicorn Filefish imm.  Aluterus monoceros,  Kailua Kona 2012

    Finally it was time to swim away from these amazing animals, knowing that we would never see them again in the wild.  We completed our Ironman swim, passing what I believe to be the half mile buoy that the swimmers talk about back on the pier, and ending up at the orange  Ironman buoy near the Royal Polynesian resort.  We took a few pictures of the shore and started our swim for home.

    On the way in, Sandra showed me the school of scads.  And I got my picture taken with the Ironman buoy.  Top and bottom, these large orange buoys bear an admonition that they are not to be used as a life saving device.  On the side of the buoy are the logos of companies who produce life saving devices.  Apparently it is up to the swimmer to make his way to shore and then purchase his lifesaving equipment.  Drowning is not in the spirit of the Ironman!

Iron Jeff Flips You a Shaka!

     After the photo op, the Redoubtable SKG, brimming with Iron Woman spirit, challenged me to race in the last 150 yards.  It was exhausting, but we both made it and neither of us required life saving equipment.  As our reward, we stopped for a couple McDoubles on the way home.

 Back at Casa Ono, we got right to work..  We found the jelly in Sea Creatures right away.  The filefish was a different matter.  It was clearly the shape of our friend Mr. Scribble, but none of our books showed a fish with that white honeycomb pattern.  There are two rare filefish in Hawaii, Garrett's Filefish isn't pictured because it is found at extreme depth.  The other, the Unicorn Filefish, has little in the way of markings and really isn't the shape as Mr. Scribble. 

Gerry Allen's pic of A. monocreos Sulawesi 2012

     When all else fails, one must resort to letter writing.  I feel uneasy about this because invariably I am told to look at the picture on page 203 and there is your fish (dummy).  On the other hand, the mission is to find a new fish, so I sent off emails to John Hoover and Marta DeMaintenon, an invertebrate zoologist at UH Hilo, who has been kind and helpful in the past.  I must have been full of hubris, because I sent one to Jack Randall, the head of ichthyology at the Bishop Museum in Honolulu and the dean of Reef Fish in the world.

Team Mango says, "Find a new fish!"

    Late at night Dr. Randall emailed back, saying that he could not identify our fish and would send our "exceptional photos" to another expert, Bruce Mundy.  What a nice man.  Today Dr. Mundy wrote back, including a plate from  a new book on reef fishes of the East Indies.

    So its not a new fish for the state, but that immature has never been photographed before in Hawaii.  And its pretty cool if you can stump Dr. Randall, even for a few minutes.  The Great Oz gave us some sites to send our exceptional pictures to, so there is still a little work to do.

    Thanks for sticking with me on this long tale and we'll see you at the race.

jeff

Mr. Scribble, Aluterus scripta,, says, "So what if I'm not the only filefish in the sea.  I'm still the fav of the SKG!

       

The Flying Gurnard Returns to the Pier

She likes the boys in the band, Mr. Scribble is her favorite.

    If you are one of my loyal readers, I'm sure you know that I like snorkeling at the pier.  Even on days when a cruise shipped is disembarking legions of sea going rubber noses, the reef at the pier is relatively free of other swimmers.  Over the last month, I've been heading to Kahaluu a little more often, though, because I just wasn't seeing anything special at the pier.  This week, things finally changed.

Scribbled Filefish, Paul Allen's Reef September 2012

     Two days ago I swam out on Paul Allen's Reef.  The water was clear, but rather bumpy.  Persistence paid off in a close encounter with the Scribbled Filefish.  Do you remember when there was always a half dozen of these curious fish hanging around Kahaluu?  Now every time you see one, its a special event.  The more so because Mr. Scribble is my sweetie's favorite fish. A couple turtles swam by and I got a good look at the Redbar Hawkfish fifteen feet below the lumpy surface.

     But the best was yet to come.  Yesterday I made my way back to the pier.  Although it was Sunday, Kailua was hosting a cruise ship.  the circus had definitely come to town;  lots of people were milling about in their fancy Aloha-wear, buses were headed to the Snorkel Beach and up the hill to Walmart.  (Apparently its cheaper to buy your Hawaiian souvenirs at Walmart, so cruisers take advantage of the free shuttle and spend their day in Kona at Walmart.  Which looks quite a bit like the Walmart back in Anytown, USA.)  And, of course,  the orange and white tenders, loaded to the gunnels with Rubber Noses, were scooting back and forth to the mother ship.

Flying Gurnard, Kailua Pier, Sept 2012  10 ft.

    This day I chose to swim on the Ironman side of the pier, the better to enjoy the boat traffic.   Dodging a few local kids who were flopping in the shallows along with their teenage mothers, I soon found myself pretty much alone out in the bay.  Considering that it was still a little bumpy, the water was quite clear,  Had it not been for the slight tang of diesel exhaust coming down my snorkel, it would have been rather idyllic. 
   
     It was usual suspects on the way out.  On the way in I hugged the swim buoys, just daring those tender jockeys to run me down.  My reward appeared in the sand very near the the third buoy.  An Oriental Flying Gurnard in ten feet of clear water. 

     You may recall that i saw a gurnard last April.  If you didn't read that blog, here's a link:
http://konafishwatching.blogspot.com/2012/04/i-got-my-gurnard.html

Oriental Flying Gurnard 

   This was a much better look.   I dove it several times and here you see the best of my photographic efforts.  Eventually I felt like I had all my angles covered and headed towards the beach.  About a minute later I encountered two young women snorkeling outbound.  I got them to the surface and told them about the gurnard, about twenty yards away.  Off they went.  After a few strokes I decided that the water was warm and I had nothing else to do, so I turned around, overtook them and asked if I could show them the fish.

    Imagine my chagrin when i was unable to find the fish!   Gurnards are sedentary sand shufflers and I could not imagine where the little fellow had gone.   Try as I might, mindful that I was trespassing into the paths of the cruise ship tenders, I could not relocate the gurnard. 

    At the showers I met a man from Azerbaijan, which doesn't happen every day.   He had sailed on the cruise ship all the way from Vancouver.  I didn't ask how he got to Vancouver, or what he thought of the current Diss the Prophet controversy.  I also met a girl from Australia who reported seeing a Manta Ray on the Ironman side two days before.  How lucky is that?  Guess we better keep going to the pier after all. 

jeff

Beach 69, Dude.

Baby Yellow Tang with her fixed Sailfin

     About a year ago, Sandra and I went to Beach 69.  This beach has another name, Waialea Bay.  Few people can remember this Hawaiian name, but virtually everyone on this side of the island is aware of Beach 69, perhaps because of the associated sexual connotation.    Having graduated from high school with the class of 69, I am well versed in the prurient power of this innuendo.  But I digress.

     When Sandra and I snorkeled there a year ago, we saw two outstanding fish, the Yellow Stripe Coris and the Shortnose Wrasse.  This outing occurred just as the blog was getting started and, perhaps, I did not adequately trumpet those sightings.  Two really good fish!
   
    At that time, we were aware that this is one of the few beaches where fishing isn't allowed and attributed our success to the lack of fishing pressure.  Here in Kailua, we live 35 miles south of Beach 69.  Even with the weather underground, it is difficult to know when the  Waika-blowah wind is blowing too hard at that beach (or the nearby Mauna Kea) for good fish watching.  As a result, a year has passed and just this week we had a fair opportunity to test the theory that this might be a superb place to look for rare species of fish on the Kona coast.

Night Sergeant  Abudef sordidus  12/25/2010

    We did not see any extremely rare reef fish this day.  As evidence of the ban on fishing, we saw a great number of Night Sergeants, Abudef sordidus.  Back in the day when my boys were young, we would have an occasional angling expedition and this species, the Night Sergeant, was a common victim.   Its not an especially pretty fish, so the remarkable decrease in its numbers don't twang at the strings of your heart in the same way as the loss of Milletseed Butterfly.  Anyway, there were lots of healthy adult Night Sergeants at Waialea Bay on Friday.

Bonefish courtesy of

    There were a few worthy sightings to come.  We swam in the warm clear water to the north shore of the bay.  A brace of Rainbow runners shot by and then, twenty feet ahead were two Bonefish.  This is a fish i have not previously claimed.  Separating out Bonefish from Mullets requires some experience.  These guys are world famous game fish and, according to our resources, mostly fished out in Hawaii.  A shame, since because of their numerous bones, they are not prized for eating.  The water had become cloudy in the sandy shallows, so I am submitting  a picture courtesy of the Florida fishing guides.  They are a primitive species (note the lack of bony rays in the dorsal fin and the extremely posterior position of the anal fin) and hence appear near the beginning of Randall's guide, which is in correct taxonomic order

Yellow Tang  Zebrasoma  flavescens  mature and immature

    We had one more treat in store.   On our way in, we happened upon several baby Yellow Tangs with dorsal fins fixed in the sailfin position.  I've been mulling this over and i can't come up with a good reason why these immatures are blessed with fixed raised fins.  Darwin teaches us that there must be some advantage, so be it.

    Back on the beach, we joined the maddening throng.  On a day with blue sky and little wind, this beach is perfect.  Sadly, we do not seem to have any pictures to share, but the merits of Beach 69 are dramatic.  The sand is soft, the beach is protected by a reef and there are numerous trees near the water to provide shade.  It is heavenly and accordingly well patronized.  We had a nice stroll in the shallows showered off and headed back to civilization.

     The bottom line to the fish finding aspect, is that we did not see any super rare species and we were darn lucky that day last November.  On the other hand, this may be the most pleasant beach on the Kona side to sit in a beach chair and watch the keikis splas in the shallows.

     And so I leave you with the immortal words of Bill and Ted,  " 69, Dudes."

jeff

Abbott and Costello come to Ho'okena

Marilyn the Mermaid heralded a Bodacious Swim.

    In the process of moving permanently to Hawaii, certain things were written in stone.  One of these stone tablets is about to descend upon our unprotected heads;  our most prized pieces of  furniture and 34 boxes of necessary stuff (or at least it seemed so at the time) are going to be delivered in three days.  Needless to say, the receiving and handling of said stuff is going to put a crimp in our fish watching.   With that in mind. the Redoubtable SKG decreed that we spend today, Sunday, at Ho'okena.  Not only would we get in a superior swim, but we'd meet some new friends at our favorite beach.

     We arrived about 9:30 and enjoyed  a slice of banana bread before heading for the water.  It was a gorgeous day, with a bright blue sky and mild surf.  On our way down the black sand beach we encountered a little girl whose grandmother had fashioned her a mermaid tail from the warm black sand.  Cute as a bug,  she was Marilyn the Mermaid and a harbinger of good things to come.

Immature Kole and Johnson Island Damselfish

      We waded in through the small surf, donned our fins and headed right,  over the inshore coral.  Immediately, we found a new fish.  As you see here, this was a petite fish with a yellow tail, a bright yellow eyebrow and a body with fine purple and gold stripes.  Go Huskies, dude!  When one sees a new fish, the initial inclination is to say, " It s a waif!  New fish for Hawaii. Snorkelkids Rule!"   You can see that it was associating with immature Blue Eye Damsels, so for a brief instant I thought we had a new species from the genus Plectogyphidodon. 

Goldring Surgeon (Kole...Ctenochaetus strigosus) imm.,  Ho'okena, 2012

   Had there not been three of these guys, that is exactly what we would have said.  However, only one waif at a time is permitted.  We spent a few minutes photographing this beauty. Using the hang on to the bottom method taught by the Great Oz (and guaranteed to rip your rotator cuff to painful shreds),  we captured the fine photos you see here.  Eventually Sandra said, "Try not to drown." and we swam away. 

     Fifty yards further out we encountered three little fish as yellow as could be.  Tally ho.  We got a couple nice pictures of the little yellow fish.  There were a couple Yellow Tangs hanging around, but these guys were not the right shape.  Check out any book and see that immature Yellow Tangs have  fixed raised fins, appearing even more sailfin than their parents.   At about the same time we saw two more of the miniature yellow tailed fish.

A Yellow Tang Shepherds Three Yellow Kole immatures

    Later, when we had a chance to study these fish, we would find that immature Kole,  Ctenochaetus strigosus, are common in the summer.  Hoover says they come in two flavors, the little yellow fellows and miniature replicas of adult pattern, of which we saw a few.  Randall says immatures vary from yellow to brown.  A search of Google images, which is a pretty useful tool if you know what you are looking for,  reveals two images similar to our fish...striped brown side and yellow tail.  One is from Reefwatch Hawaii and the other is from the aquarium trade.  Boo!  With all due modesty I must say that our picture is better.

Hawaiian Hogfish imm,  Ho'okena Sept 2012

    But the best was yet to come.  We swam out among  the coral pillars beyond end of the old boat landing.  In a lower coral head south of the pillars, where we  saw the Flame and Potter's Angel a year ago, I spotted a gorgeous fish.  Nosing in and out of the coral, he had a bright yellow dorsum, a solid black side and and a white tail.  This was a handsome little fish about thirty five five feet below us.  So crisp were the colors, that my first inclination  was that this was an angelfish.  However, the nose was a bit long and the longer we watched the more he seemed to have an odd shape.

    I was muttering in my snorkel  about it being an angelfish, so much did I like the distinctive color pattern.  Sandra asked, "Do you think its a hogfish?"  I replied, "It doesn't swim like a hawkfish."  (I had noticed the yellow dorsum similar to the immature Freckle face Hawkfish, Paracirrhites forsteri.  This is such a lovely immature that for our family records we give it a special place, Forster's Hawkfish.  The Dragon and Red Labrid Wrasses get their own places, distinct from the adults, as well.)

   At some point I asked, "You don't think this is a wrasse, do you?"  Such is the high level of ichthyology in our family that Sandra replied, "No.  Do you think its a hogfish?"  ( I guess she doesn't know her wrasse from a cold fish.)  Sadly, I'm sure you know what my response was.  I dove the fish six times for pictures, my twelve foot dives bringing me about twenty feet above our tiny quarry.  If the pictures aren't superb, that's my excuse.  Isn't it amazing that the water was so clear?

Hawaiian Hogfish  Bodianus bilunulatus

    Abbott and Costello made it back to the beach a while later.   We had a delightful meal of tuna salad sandwiches made from tombo barbecued the previous evening.  There were plenty of friendly people and we enjoyed the company at least as much as the tombo.  Soon we were back home.  I still hadn't cottoned to the hogfish part and ended up looking at every angelfish, damselfish, bream and sea bass in the tropical pacific to no avail.  Finally I looked at wrasses and found our fish.  John Hoover has an excellent picture in the Ultimate Guide.  He also notes that the immature is more common in the summer.  Randall only shows the older phase immature, which is intermediate between this guy, with his distinctive black coat, and the female with a pinkish white flank.  No wonder I was having such trouble. 

    Well, thanks for sticking with me on this fish story.  We hope all your fish are friendly and that goes double for your dining companions.

jeff