Its Christmas in Kailua, With All of the Fish At Home

   Christmas Eve came to Kailua this year as gentle as a lamb.  The weather was not too hot or humid and,

Can the Green Flash Be Far Away?

 although many of our friends and family are scattered around the lower 48, we still had a very special evening of companionship.

     Sandra and I met our friends Ross and Donna down at Alii Villas. We participated in the nightly Alii  Villas sunset ceremony.   There were no whales this evening, but I was lucky to catch a sailboat as it cruised beneath the setting sun.  I was even luckier to catch two aspiring super-models in their Christmas finery.  To make the evening complete, we all were treated to a green flash.   Très Hawaiian!

    As the light crept from the Hawaiian sky we made our way back up past the condos, many of the balconies were decorated for the season.  Our friend Sandy came out

Super Models: Donna and Sandra on Christmas Eve 2015

and danced on her lanai with here life size singing Santa,  It made for quite a show, but heaven only knows where Saint Nick is going to live the remainder of the year in a tiny condo.   Perhaps she will perch him in the corner and give him a Mai Tai. 

    Soon we left our friends behind for the lights of village and the Christmas eve service at the church.  We arrived in Kailua about half an hour early for service, so Sandra and I wandered around taking pictures of the lights. The village is beautiful every night of the year, a few Christmas touches make it even more so.

   Last Christmas Eve, while we were waiting in line to get into the church, I had serendipitously discovered that one need not belong to the Moku'aikua church (the oldest church in Hawaii) to sing in their caroling  choir.  The choir congregates

Christmas Eve in Kailua  2015

on the lawn outside the church and sings our favorite carols as the parishioners enter for the service.  The previous year I had sort of walked around the front wall, through the parking area and edged my way in, joining a dozen of what I assumed were the regulation church choir.  This year, as the choir started to sing, many more people joined in.  Soon we were two dozen willing voices greeting the faithful and the birth of our lord.  O Come All Ye Faithful, indeed.

    If anything, this year the singing was even better.  The highlight came when we sang Silent Night.  A gentleman songster behind me suggested that we sing the well known verse in German, enough of us agreed and it was included as the last stanza to

Stille Nacht! Heilige Nacht!  Alles Schläft; Einsam Wacht.

this Weihnachtszeit classic.  The first verse was sung in Hawaiian...even knowing the melody did not permit me to fit all the written syllables into the song.  The German verse was not so disadvantaged, as it was not in the song book.  We all sang our hearts out and it was ausgezeichnet, if I do say so myself.

   About 4 AM, while visions of sugarplums danced in the head of my slumbering sweetie, it started to rain.  In fact, it rained pretty hard for about three hours.  This was unexpected, as it had not rained for about two weeks.  And it put a new twist in our Christmas tradition, the hunt for the Christmas wrasse.

    In general, we don't swim the day after a first rain, as it seems a bit unsanitary.  Not only that, rain water percolates through the lava and makes the bay cold.  With all this in mind, Sandra was given permission to opt out of the search for the Christmas wrasse on Christmas Day.  To

The Christmas Wrasse by the Rescue Kiosk  Kahalu'u, December 25, 2015

combat the cold, I cut up one of her old wet suits and made myself a bit of a snorkeling vest.  In deference to your sensibilities, I am not including a picture of myself in this erzatz vest, which I wore beneath my swim shirt. I would like to note at this juncture that all the pictures included in this blog, with the exception of my classic and enhanced picture of the palace with the church behind, were taken on this very day.  No file pictures, or (shudder) pirated pictures, in the Christmas Eve blog.

     Down at Kahalu'u a group of locals were setting up for a Christmas morning party.  While this was no surprise, we were relegated to a rain spattered outer table under a cloudy sky to don our gay, er, snorkeling, apparel.  Soon your faithful Tyro was afloat, his new vest buoying him up.  Flouting my usual strategy (to head out towards the Menehune Breakwater), I swam to the right, over by the rescue

Male Pearl Wrasse by the Rescue Kiosk 2015

kiosk.  While the water there is always less clear there, experience suggested that this area would provide the best chance for a Christmas wrasse.

    As the sun broke free above Hualalai, the Gods of Old Hawaii smiled upon us.  Over a lava outcrop, in about a foot of water, was a young Christmas wrasse.  He was small, but already bore the adult markings.  Driven along by a helpful eddy, I chased him over the reef taking a score of pictures.  Frequently I was in water less than a foot deep, but riding the current, I was able to stay flat and enjoy the chase.  Mostly I got pictures of the wrasse swimming away, but luckily he turned a couple times, looking back as if to say, "Oh.  Are you still there?"  Which I was, until he dodged around the reef, never to be seen again.

     So how lucky was this?  We had found our Christmas wrasse not fifteen minutes into the swim.  It seemed wrong to abort the swim so early and the water really wasn't all that cold.  With that in mind, I pushed on.  Immediately I saw a Star (of  Bethlehem) eyed

Juvenile Surge Wrasse near the exit, K Bay Christmas 2015

 Parrotfish.  Like the Christmas Star for which he may or may not be named, this old brute guided me, in very short order, over field and fountain, moor and mountain to a male Pearl Wrasse.  (I suppose if you read a Christmas Blog, you have to expect some schmaltzy Yuletide lyrics.)  In any event, the Pearl Wrasse was in a patch of clearer water and we nabbed the picture you see here. 

    I proceeded counter clockwise out to Surfer's Rock and then turned for home.  I saw nothing of much interest until I made it almost all the way in.  There, I saw a very young Surge Wrasse.  First cousin to the Christmas wrasse, we see the juvenile surge less commonly and the adult surge wrasse only rarely.  These are fast moving fish, always a challenge to photograph.  I took lots of pictures, but still felt lucky to get one usable photo. While I watched, this dark young trout captured a small urchin. He proceeded to bash the urchin against a rock and then chomped him down.  Do you ever wonder how the wrasses digest those spines?  I guess the urchin was a bit like the crunchy almond roca you might hope to find in your Christmas stocking. What a great foil to the Christmas wrasse, not to mention a fine conclusion to our Christmas snorkel.

    As I conclude this Christmas blog, I'm going to leave you with lyrics to my own version of Little Town of Bethlehem, which I confess to singing soto voce along with the Moku'aikua choir.

O little town Kailuaville, how still we see thee rise,

Upon thy deep and dreamless reef, the silent fish swim by.

How Brave On Christmas Day!

Yet in the dark depths shineth, the phosphorescent light.

The sharks and rays who sleep by day, will swim with us tonight.

The Keiki dream of sugar cane, while Maui seeks the sun.

Please save the fish and grant this wish:

God bless us everyone.

O little town Kailuaville, how brave on Christmas Day.

While pilgrims pray and palm trees sway, the dolphins swim the bay.

Yet ‘neath your shining waters, the Christmas wrasse doth dwell.

His brilliant colors herald in Our Lord, Emmanuel.

May the Christmas Season find you happy and safe with good friends and family,

jeff 

A Night Snorkel at Kahalu'u

    Our friends Bob and Kim Hillis are leaving the island at the end of the week, moving to the mountains of  Arizona far away from the ocean.  With that in mind, Bob has been running down a last minute wishlist,

K Bay was as dark as a cow's tuckus on a moonless night.

doing some things that he had hoped to do on the island and saying goodbye, after a fashion, to some of his favorite places and activities.  Upon his list was a night snorkel at K Bay with your humble correspondent.  I was flattered to be on his short list, and so earlier this week we made it happen.

    Somehow I was reminded of a little story by Thomas Mann:  Antonio Krüger verliß seinen heim und bekundet kein grossen schmertz dabei.   Antonio is leaving home and goes around saying goodbye to all things familiar, but doesn't feel any pain.

 I dropped Sandra off at the sometimes Chateau Hillis, where she and Kim sat around with a dram of Gilbey's while Bob and I motored down to K Bay.  When we got there it was just about as dark as a cow's tuckus on a moonless night (courtesy of The Stranger in The Big Lebowski).  The lights in the parking lot had not yet come on, according to a friend we
met in the lot, they are timed according to sunset in the summer.  The only lights available emanated from the restrooms and with that bit of lost light we made it to a table in the shelter.

Short Arm Sand Octopus thanks to  dmcleish.com

    Before we could get changed and into the bay, we were accosted by an attractive twenty something who had misplaced her cell phone in the dark.  Bob, the sometimes Don Quixote of Kailua Kona, sprang to her aid with his dive light.  this failing, he ran back to the car for his cell so they could call her phone which, she being a damsel, was buried deep in her picnic basket. 

   Problem solved, we left the sweet young thing and her keiki to their barbecue in the dark and made our way into the chilly water of K Bay.  On this night snorkel, I had chosen not to bring my camera.  a multitude of reasons framed this decision.  First, it is difficult for an old trout like myself to swim with a flashlight in one hand and operate a camera with the other.  Additionally, we had seen little on our previous night snorkels to push me in the direction of repeated near drowning experiences. And lastly, my attempts at photography on those occasions had been, well,  miserable.  Luckily, as it turned out,

Kellogg's Scorpionfish  photo Bob Hillis

Bob brought his camera along and although my photo processor hates his camera with a passion, I have managed over a few hours to render a few of his pictures acceptable for the blog.

   We had been out in the bay for only a few minutes when I saw Bob stalled by the shore.  He had found a very small octopus.  The head was about as big as one of those tiny tangerines that they sell at Costco.  At times the tentacles were drawn up under the body, while at others they dangled below, they appeared about as long as my fingers.  Bob dove down and took a couple pictures while I illuminated the critter with my light.

   Although this technique would yield a few good images later on, he did not get an acceptable picture of this fascinating animal.  Aside from it being cute as, and only slightly larger than, a bug, the octopus was remarkable in one other respect: it did not flee.  We watched it for several minutes and at extremely close range.  Bob dove twice for

Peppered Squirrelfish, S. punctatissimum  December 2015

 pictures that were  taken at about 18 inches.  John Hoover suggests that this is the short arm sand octopus.  I'm including a picture from the internet, with thanks to dmcleish.   Bob was concerned that  because of the way this animal changed color and textures, he might have been a very small day octopus.  I'm giving you a link to a page from D. McLeish which shows the short arm sand octopus doing all the things that we witnessed.  It was a very cool experience with an animal I doubt I wlll see again.  .http://dmcleish.com/Maui2013/Short-arm-Octopus/index.html

    We had been away from the octopus for only a short while when I spotted a small scorpionfish sitting on a rock in the shallows.  By virtue of being atop the rock, he was only two feet below the surface.  This fellow was equally patient and here you see Bob's picture with my processing.  I'm calling this fish Kellogg's

Banded Coral Shrimp, Kahalu'u, December 2015

Scorpionfish.  Sadly for me, I have seen this species one time previously, during the day, in essentially the same spot, the larger stones just outside the entrance at Kahalu'u. On that occasion he sheltered at the bottom of a rock, but I was able to dive down and get an excellent picture which is very similar to this one.

    We saw the expected cardinalfish (bandfin and irridescent) and spotfin soldierfish, which we see by day, and peppered squirrelfish, which is primarily nocturnal.  I found a cracker jack undulated moray with his handsome gold head threatening us from beneath a coral.

    As we swam along we got some excellent looks at a variety of shrimp, which are difficult to photograph and identify.  This was different from our previous night snorkels where the shrimp were much more difficult to see.  My guess is that we saw four species well, but it is difficult to put a name on them.  The exception was a handsome banded coral shrimp, only about 4 cm from claw to claw.

   Luckily as we looked at the various shrimps, the lights came on in the parking lot.  It was much easier to find our way in with those lights to guide us.  Ashore,  we were greeted by

Henderson's Hingebeak Shrimp Kahalu'u December 2015

several families of islanders who had come to the shelter to enjoy the evening.  One clever fellow knew how to turn on a couple lights.  Switches were located on the posts...what a surprise.  On a our previous night snorkel at Kahalu'u,  many fluorescent lights were on, but that was not the case this evening.  At any rate, we were able to enjoy all the children racing around inside the shelter and find our car, in the now well illuminated parking lot.

   Back at Chateau Hillis there was plenty of schmerz to go around. We bid farewell to our friends and I bundled Sandra into the Honda for the sad trip up the hill.  Fair winds and good fish, amigos.


jeff

Klein's and Regal at the Pier

   You may have noticed that the blog has been on a bit of a short holiday.  Well, the hiatus wasn't exactly a walk on the beach.  Somehow or other your doughty correspondent ended up with a a sore back.  This was sufficiently severe to keep me out of the water for more than a week.

The Kailua Pinktail Trigger

    During this time I worked on a small school of paper mache fish ornaments for the Christmas tree.  My finished product is better than it was two years ago, but I doubt that my fish are ready to be sold down on Alii Drive.   Perhaps if some generous vendor gave me a corner of a booth at the pre-Christmas stroll, I could pass the work off as being done by school children and donate the proceeds to one of the local educational institutions.  But then what would we put on our
tree?  Rhetoric aside, I'm including here my holiday masterpiece for this year, an anatomically questionable pink tail triggerfish with the Kailua malecon rendered on her flank.

    A few days ago I finally got back in the water.  Sandra was kind enough to drop Bob and I off at the pier.  She went grocery shopping at the KTA while we went for a swim on the Ironman side.  Going out, we didn't see much.  While I was dawdling a short distance

Day Octopus  Photo Bob Hillis

  away, Bob got a look at an octopus about twelve feet down.  The handsome fellow obliged him with this excellent picture. Of course, he was long gone by the time I made it out to the fourth swim buoy.  As octopi are somewhat territorial,  I'm going to give that area a good look for the next few weeks.

     One word about the photo.  Most photographers who expound on underwater photography emphasize that processing your pictures is a significant part of the art.  My processor, a version of Ulead dating back about ten years, despises the photographs that I receive from Bob's Olynpus.  This is surprising, as his camera and the one I currently use are closely related.  Unable to fiddle with the picture on the computer, I downloaded it on my Samsung 4

The Blacklip Butterflyfish,  C. kleinii, December 2015

phone.  There is a cracker jack app called photo (what a surprise) that allows processing.  It gives you the option of a variety of balances and permits a change in contrast, which it refers to as pop.  Having used that trendy photo processor to get the picture I wanted, I then emailed it to the computer and, voila!, Here you are.  The new picture is still pretty much rejected by the aging Ulead and I'm left wondering, after all the travel through the email and the phone, "How do it know?"


    But I digress.  

    Just as I reached the exit, I was treated to a most excellent fish; flitting about in the rocks just off the sand was an incredibly handsome adolescent Klein's Butterflyfish.   Although he was in constant motion he was extremely approachable.  The combination of clear shallow water and dazzling sunshine made for a spectacular photographic opportunity.  I hope you will agree that we made the most of it.

Regal Parrotfish Immature showing tail crescent

  About twenty five years ago, my boys showed me a Klein's (aka blacklip) butterflyfish at Kahalu'u on a calm day out by the Menehune breakwater.  Shortly thereafter, they
found a citron (aka speckled) in the same general location.  Suffice it to say, they have been good little fishwatchers from an early age.  So impressed was I with these two finds that I named this area Butterflyfish Flats.   Among my myriad of fish related documents, there still exist maps of K Bay, rendered by my hand, with that name denoting the shallows by the Menehune Breakwater. Sadly, it has not proved to be a dependable spot for unusual butterflyfish.

Regal Parrotfish Immature showing vertical bands

  Since those germinal sightings, lost in the shadows of time, I have seen Citron occasionally in Hawaii and in several locations: the pier, the Dog Beach and bay near the Hyatt all come to mind.  On the other hand, although Sandra and I saw blacklip butterfly in Bali, where it is not at all uncommon in Lipah Bay.  But it wasn't until this year that I saw another here in Hawaii, with Peter and Marie up at Mahukona.  I have seen blacklip both times I have returned to that charming little bay.  However, it has always been a shy fish, invariably swimming away from the camera.

   Bob Hillis says that like the Milletseed, Klein's butterflyfish is not uncommon at diving depths.  I wouldn't know.  Seeing one so close and shallow, with such perfect lighting was an early Christmas gift. 

    Sandra and I returned to the pier yesterday.  As I had hoped, the Klein's butterflyfish was right where we left him, in the shallows by the first rocks, halfway between the first swim buoy and the sea wall.   Even more than octopi, an unusual butterflyfish will stay in a spot for quite a while.  With any luck, this handsome fellow will remain in the shallows by the pier through the Christmas holiday.

    Sandra had eschewed her wet suit, so we swam at a brisk (the operative word for the water temperature) clip out to the last swim buoy.  We had been in the water for only fifteen minutes, but sweetie was already

Male Regal Parrotfish showing pale vertical stripe

chilled.  While this may answer the question, "How is Sandra like a fine white wine?" (they are both chilled), she was having none of it and headed back to the beach. 

   I tooled around for awhile, looking to no avail for Bob's octopus.  As I made a general search, I was pleased to see an initial phase  regal parrotfish.  With the accompanying photos to help, you may recall that the immature regal is a light beige (ecru to the sartorially inclined) with a series of darker vertical stripes.  In fact, it is not a visually attractive fish and one might easily overlook it if not for the pale crescent on the rounded tail.

    Our hero, John Hoover, lets you know right off the bat that parrotfish are difficult to identify.  Their coloration is frequently variable and often not very interesting.  I have found the shape and coloration of the

Regal Parrotfish male,  Scarus dubius, Kailua Pier December 2015

tail to be a valuable tool when identifying parrots. The terminal crescent is found on the tail of most stages of regal parrotfish.  Only in the male (the final stage of parrotfish development) does the regal tail gain the handsome violet streamers. 

   Shortly after I lost the chase with that shy fish, another unusual parrotfish appeared.  I had not seen this fish before, suspecting that it was a new iteration of the regal, but not ruling out something new for the Hawaii list.  I chased it into the turbid water by the seawall, where it slowed down for a couple pictures.  In the first, you will note the distinct pale stripe on the flank.  Over less than a minute the pale patch, which had me

Merry Christmas 2015

wondering if this was a new species for my Hawaii list, darkened.  As you can see in the second picture, this is a fairly typical variant of the regal parrotfish male, replete with violet streamers.  This was still a good find, being the fist regal male I have seen at the pier.  Obviously, the turbid water did not improve the pictures of the male regal parrotfish, but I hope you enjoy them if only as a lesson in the perfidy of parrotfish.

   Soon I was back at the pier where Sandra waited for me, wrapped up in her towel to keep warm.  Over the past couple of weeks, we have been enjoying utterly delicious weather here on the leeward side of the Big Island.  I fear that if you are reading the blog from anywhere else on the surface of this emerald orb, your weather has not been quite as good.  So in closing I will send you some Kona sunshine and a warm tropical breeze.

jeff

    
   

A Thanksgiving Story 2015

   We got up bright and early on Thanksgiving morning.  There was no watering to be done, as it had rained for the second night in a row, so at least the mosquitoes were happy.  Our friends the Hillises were coming

Black Durgon with electric blue lines.

for Thanksgiving dinner, so Sandra and Kim stayed home in their respective kitchens preparing the meal while Bob and I slunk off to Kahalu'u for a bit of fish watching.  On the way down the hill the DJ at B93 promised to play Alice's Restaurant at 9 AM.  Many families associate that classic American ballad with Thanksgiving and incorporate it as part of their holiday tradition.  I only think of the Vietnam War, which I was very glad not to be a part of, so the tune, for me at least, doesn't evoke any fond memory of a family celebration oriented around a large turkey dinner.  to me, Arlo Guthrie's ballad  evokes Hueys, rice paddies and tough little men in black pajamas who luckily never got a shot at yours truly.  I honor the guys that served in Vietnam, but man alive am I glad that I wasn't one of them.

    I made it down to K Bay and out to the beach without getting arrested for littering.  The

Why do so many butterflyfish swim in pairs?

local chapter of AA had appropriated the kiosk for the day; they needed the entire facility, but a motherly lady engaged in spreading butcher paper on the tables said that I was welcome to join in if I was in recovery.  God bless ya , ma'am. 

     Soon enough, Bob and I were swimming in the clear cool water under cloudy skies.  Early on I saw some very pretty black durgons, which never seem to photograph as well as I would like.  If you look carefully, you may appreciate the fine electric blue lines covering not only the forehead, but the entire body of this ordinarily satin black triggefish.

     On the back side of Surfer's Rock there was a pair of teardrop butterflyfish.  Sandra is forever saying I should write a blog just about pairs.  What is it about women that they think male butterflyfish should be

Elegant Hermit Crabs, Ca. elegans, Kahalu'u December 2015

monogamous?  Or am I missing something here?  Anyway,  this pair cooperated and I came away with this nice photograph.

    A bit further on,  I came across this pair of elegant hermit crabs (Ca. elegans).  Early in the swim, Bob picked up a the shell of a nicobar triton and we examined it carefully, knowing that this was the favorite haunt of the blood hermit crab, Dar. sanguinocarpus.)  In this case, the nerer elegant is living in the most common shell for the species and the other guy is making do with something else.  They do make a fine pair,though.  Viva la difference.

    On the way in, Bob spotted a small stout moray eel.  This guy was so small that, had the coloration not been distinctive, one might have wondered if he was a dwarf moray.  The photograph leaves no doubt as to the identification.  The camera captured a well focused portrait that displays the  nose tubes.  The better to smell you with my dear.  Over in the cloudy water by the second

Stout Moray Eel  December 2015

kiosk, I found  a Christmas wrasse hunting with a female ember parrotfish.  While Sandra is gaga for pairs, I love symbiotic associations.  It is not uncommon to see the Christmas wrasse hunting with the much larger parrotfish.  If you happen to catch a glimpse of the wrasse working with the extraordinarily handsome male ember, it is a pleasing sight, indeed.  Generally, this combo moves by with such dispatch that I am unable to get a picture.  This time they slowed down and I was able to get this picture.  Even with the miracle of photoshopping, you can still appreciate the turbid water.  Its difficult for me to envision what benefit the parrotfish night get from this relationship, dining as it does on algae and coral.  The wrasses eat invertebrates, which may be disturbed by the parrotfish.  There may be something about this relationship that isn't immediately apparent.

   Ashore, Bob showed me a test of the keeled heart urchin, Brissus latecarinatus, that he had picked up on

Ember Parrot with Christmas Wrasse (in cloudy water)

 the way in.  As you can see from the picture, it is asymmetrical.  This urchin lives in the sand, taking in the substrate through the forward opening mouth and expelling it out the back.  There are two substantial orifices in the test to provide for these functions and no hole on the bottom, as is the case with any sea urchin test that I have previously seen.  I have never seen this urchin in life, however, it tunnels under the sand leaving a raised trail like a mole.  So why don't they call it the mole urchin?  That way, should you encounter it in a Mexican restaurant, it would be covered with that bitter chocolate sauce that tastes faintly of tobacco.  All kidding aside, from the standpoint of his linear alimentary mechanism, this urchin bears a striking resemblance to a sea cucumber.

   Well, Bob and I went home, but soon the whole mob of us convened at Casa Ono for Thanksgiving dinner.  We had a delightful meal with lots of specialty touches and then the four of us hauled ourselves from

The asymmetrical sea urchin test.

 the table to decorate the Christmas tree.  With Christmas in Latte Land playing in the background, our collection of ornaments were placed on the tree.  When the job was done, I noticed to my pronounced chagrin that there was something drastically wrong with my paper mache fish.  Closer examination revealed that many of them had been decimated by wood boring beetles.  Curiously, the fish ornaments actually made of wood were not affected.

    This wood boring beetle is a common pest here on the big island.  It frequently attacks bits of furniture.  The treatment is simple enough:  you put the effected object in the freezer for 48 hours.  This has spawned a curious little industry, where people who own freezers for things like food, will rent space for a table infested with wood boring beetles.  It was easy enough to round up the ornaments and put them in a freezer bag and then into our trusty icebox.  You will note the picture of a hybrid Achille's Tang

Husky Tang Christmas Ornament With Wood Boring Beetles

done in purple and gold with two tiny beetles that popped out when he was removed from the freezer.  The only bad part was that it rendered some of the finer paper mache work friable.  In this case the Husky Tang seems to have lost the tips of his fins.  I'm sure you will note the small holes bored by the beetles.  Bad beetles!

       Bob and Kim had brought us an early Christmas gift (we received a candle that smells for all the world like the cinnamon rolls served by Holiday Inn and the amazing asymmetrical sea urchin test) so we sent them home with a Latte Land disk still in its original cellophane wrapper.  The story of Latte Land, written and
produced by my talented brother Chuck Hill, is a touching tale, with which the Hillis's were regaled at length.  The story is beyond the scope of this blog, but through the miracle of the internet you can click on this link and hear the signature song on YouTube.
 .https://www.youtube.c/watch?v=wCGdgX8Cjh4  

It should make great background music while you read the rest of the blog.

Nanner, nanner, nanner.

    The remainder of the Thanksgiving weekend was a blur of football with our beloved Huskies beating the stuffing (little Thanksgiving dinner joke) out of WSU on a glorious November day hard by the Montlake Cut.  Go Dogs!

   Sandra and I went snorkeling early on Saturday morning (so we would be home in time to watch football on TV.)  It was a gorgeous day and the water at the pier was cool and clear.  On the way out, we came across this juvenile fourspot butterflyfish flitting about in a remnant of Pocillipora coral.  This is one of the best pieces of cauliflower coral left on the Ironman side of the of the pier.  The branches of the Pocilliporas provide an important nursery for many of our fish.  The decimation of this genus by the hot summer water with resultant bleaching is ominous.

      On the way in, we didn't see too much of merit in the fish department, but I did manage this picture of an orangemouth lizardfish.  My colleague Professor Hillis let it slip that he needed a picture of this relatively

The Author and his son  James with the Timbers Army.

 common lizardfish, so this opportunity got my competitve juices flowing.  And just in time, as Stanford defeated Notre Dame by a couple on the last play of the game.  I was pleased, but the producer of Latte Land, an out of the closet Irish-despiser, was beside himself with glee.

     The weekend ended with the Portland Timbers defeating FC Dallas for the the western conference championship in MLS.  This game was shared with my son James, who curtailed his visit to the Outlaws in Roseburg, making it home in tine to watch his beloved eleven from the Rose City.  Rose City, No Pity!  The Timbers won the right to raise a flag in Providence Park and Sandra and I enjoyed several game related conversations on the telephone with James and Tara.  At two months, CJ is too young to talk and Riley is a still dog. 

    And that was the Thanksgiving weekend in Kailua.  Sandra and I hope your holiday was filled with good friends and family, good food and at least one football victory.

jeff

CJ is here to root for the Timbers!

  

   

A Different Look at an Octopus

  A few days ago Bob and I went swimming at Kahalu'u.  As it was raining cats and dogs, Sandra and Kim went into the village for coffee.

   The rain had no effect on the water, it was cool and clear, a fine pattering was audible as we swam along.    For most of the swim we saw

Poor Little Puffer

nothing more interesting than three stripe belly puffers.  The first we encountered was all hunkered down and didn't seem to be in the pink of health, the second and third were small fishies just puffing along, as puffers are wont to do on a rainy day.

    As we swam near the Menehune Breakwater, the current increased and the surface became extremely choppy.  Suddenly, this was a lot of work.  As I struggled along, I saw a most interesting association.  A small blue  goatfish was hunting with a male bird wrasse.  The goatfish was young, so instead of a yellow blotch on the caudal peduncle he bore a discreet harvest moon.  From a physical standpoint there was nothing remarkable

Baby Blue Goatfish and I'wi Hunting Together in K Bay

about the I'iwi, but I  had never witnessed one hunting with  another fish before.  They stayed together for as long as I could follow them and I did my best to get a picture for your pleasure.

    Blue goatfish commonly hunt with adolescent ulua.  The usual ratio is three goatfish per trevally.   One has to wonder if the bird wrasse was getting anything out of this, but I didn't hear him complain.

   On the way in I encountered a brown dragon wrasse.  Much has been made of late in the Beach Blog of the green dragon wrasse, so I thought that I would show you this brown one.  In the event that you presumed that all dragon wrasses supported the nefarious criminals of the University of Oregon football team, you now have evidence to the contrary.  Rather obviously, this fellow supports Brown.  I suppose when he grows up he wants to live in Manhattan and be an investment banker.  The snob.

    I was just about to go in when I made eye contact with Bob, who was about five yards away.  "Octopus"

The chocolate ones go great with a glass of milk!

he said quietly.  I swam over expecting that the shy mollusc would have disappeared into the reef.  Such was the case.  Neither Bob nor I could see a trace of him when we peered under the rock, only three feet deep, where the octopus had disappeared.

  I backed off about five feet or so and Bob went down for one more attempt.  To stabilize himself as he looked under the large rock, he grabbed both edges.  As he floated up, the rock came off the bottom a tiny amount, less than an inch.  As this happened, the sheltering octopus slowly oozed from under rock.  It took him about twenty seconds to reconstitute himself upright in the water.  Just for a moment, as he hung there, he reminded me of the ghost that lives in the vat down in the laboratory in the Wizard of Id.  It was an uncanny resemblance.

    The octopus shot me a look of utter disdain and swam a few yards to a different rock under which he disappeared without a trace.  The whole delightful episode took less than half a minute.

I swear, the Octopus looked just like this.

    I was left wondering how an animal who can compress his nervous system so completely could be so intelligent.  Rumor has it that an octopus at the Hatfield Marine Science complex in Newport, Oregon would  emerge from his tank, on occasion, to pick the pockets of unsuspecting muggles.   What would happen if I was forced to compress my brain so it fit under a rock?  I wouldn't be writing blogs, that's for sure.  And perhaps the world would be a better place.  Hopefully not.

jeff

And Away We Go.

This week in Kona

     This was the week when I finally pulled my head from the sand and noticed that the dengue fever epidemic in South Kona was not going away.  In fact, its getting worse, with cases now numbering in the

Small Bluefin Trevally Hunting With Flying Gurnard

 70s.  In true island fashion, all mosquito related products have disappeared from the shelves of the markets that might have carried them.  This is not so dissimilar to the canned foods running out the door in the face of an impending hurricane.  Perhaps if I eat enough Spam and canned soup, I won't get dengue fever.

    The only other interesting thing that happened this week was Sandra spotting Andrew Jackson looking at her while snorkeling along the pier.  Luckily Old Hickory was on the side of a twenty.  This puts a new twist on finding sea money.  Suffice it to say, the twenty did not go into the bottle with previously submerged pennies and nickels.

    I did see one interesting fish interaction.  In the Inner Harbour I spotted a small flying gurnard.  This is not so uncommon and, as the water was cloudy, I would not have bothered with him.  However, he was being

 accompanied by a small ulua.  Blue fin trevally are possibly the fish most likely to seek help from another species in their ongoing search for their daily bread.  Eels and goatfish are their usual symbiotic help mates.  I had never before seen anything hunting with a gurnard, but the little guy was disturbing the sand as much as any goatfish, so from the standpoint of the ulua, it makes sense.

   On the same outing in the water off Paul Allen's Reef, I got this nice picture of a pair of Reticulated Butterflyfish.  Heaven knows why this species has increased in numbers.  It is so handsome and approachable that I can't resist taking its picture.  

    Also out there was a fine little Whitley's Trunkfish.  I don't see these very often and this one was especially cooperative.  He was nosing around that piece of sunken rudder, which made an perfect hand hold in about

seven feet of water for this picture. 

    Two days ago, Sandra and I made a dash up to Beach 69.  It was a gorgeous day, perfect for reading in a beach chair, enjoying a picnic lunch and making friends with fellow northwesterners who were escaping the winter weather.  It was also a great day for seahorse watching.  Yours truly found his first hippocamp cruising along by a stick, right where he ought to be.  I spent ten minutes watching him as he poked here and there on the sandy bottom.  His compatriot, the box crab, was also present for comic relief.
   And that was the week that was here in Kailua.

jeff

Kailuan Hippocamp  November 2015

  

Back In Kailua Again

   Sandra and I returned from Portland this week.  In the Rose City, we had observed the newest member of our snorkeling clan.  CJ is a fine little trout of about 8 lbs with red hair, a lusty appetite and spine tingling

Houndfish at City of Refuge    Photo Martin DeLuke

 screech.  With all the attention lavished upon him by the family pooch, Riley, he may grow up to be a houndfish.

   Speaking of which, in our absence Casa Ono and the adjacent waters were looked after by our dear friends Martin and Gail DeLukes.  They had many good days of snorkeling, seeing their first Day Octopus among many others.  One day at City of Refuge, they nabbed this Cracker Jack picture of the previously mentioned houndfish.  They were hoping for a barracuda, but all they got was a sweater.  Sorry, that's a different joke.  Who can blame them for thinking that  this muscular menace, this Master of Disaster,  might be a barracuda?  I mean, just look at those choppers!  Kudos to the DeLukes for taking such a marvelous picture.

    Also while we were gone, our bosom buddy Bob (nice alliteration, no?) Hillis, while sailing on the bright blue sea, plucked an errant buoy from the waves, only to find living in the eye, where once there was a line attached to a crab trap or such, this marvelous

Spotted Oceanic Triggerefish   photo Bob Hillis

little trigger fish.  The Spotted Oceanic Triggerfish, Canthidermis maculatus, as related by John Hoover in his web site, Fish Not In My Book, is usually found associated with drifting objects and rarely seen close to shore.  Bob removed this small beauty from his watery nest and took the picture you see with the helpless trigger lying in the bottom of a bucket.  One assumes that later in the day this tiny morsel  (he was only 3 cms)  was consumed by an unsuspecting patron down at Da Poke Shack.  All kidding aside, what a cool find.

    Hoping for something almost as good as the oceanic triggerfish, Bob and I went snorkeling at Kahalu'u the day after we returned.  As I entered the bay, I encountered a lovely lady in her mid thirties wearing a handsome black eye patch.  More importantly, she was wearing her fins and edging backwards down the sand channel.  Always the chevalier, I instructed her to sit down in the water and swim out from there, thus saving about thirty feet of backwards edging and a possible twisted ankle.  "Like this!" I said, plopping

Novaculichthys taeniourus stpatrickii.

 on my skinny old bottom and donning my fins and mask.  She in turn layed down in the entry, floating on her back, so I will never know how she tucked the strings supporting her eye patch inside her snorkel mask.  This information might prove useful  in a set of unforseen circumstances.  One can only assume that she has more experience manipulating that patch than she does with swim fins and sand channels.

     Anyway, the alliterative Bob was waiting and we were soon swimming  in the extremely pleasant, if somewhat cloudy water.  (I want the water to be 82 degrees every day of the year.)  On my way out to Surfer's Rock I spotted one of the maturing shortnose wrasses, which has truly gone from fish of the year to Dirt Fish, at least at K Bay.

     Near the rock, I observed and photographed this wonderful green Dragon Wrasse.  It took a bit of work, but we finally got this verdant beauty into focus.  You may recall that earlier this year I was bemoaning the fact that I did not have a really good picture

Tops or Hermits?

 of the green dragon wrasse.  Clearly, I can no longer complain about that.  Just gazin' on his lovely green visage crates a longin' for March 17th, a dram of Jameson's and the skirl of the pipes.  B'gosh and begorrah, laddie, let's raise a glass to the green dragon wrasse,   Novaculichthys taeniourus stpatrickii. 

     Nearby I saw this small colony of tops hiding in a crevice of the coral.  As hermit crabs of a species seem to select a certain variety of shell,  I picked at one.  Unable to extricate it, I left them alone.  My research does not clearly speak to this trio being molluscs or arthropods, but they made a nice picture regardless.

Hebrew Cone.

   I missed a picture of a cute four spot butterfly immature, but nearby got this Hebrew Cone.  Only a small portion of the shell remained in Hebrew, the rest had been debased by coraline algae. I feel like I have subjected you to enough ethnic references for one blog, so I won't torture you with   verses from hava nagila and recipes for matzo balls.  Although even if you are stung by the Hebrew Cone, the effect wears off within twenty four hours. 

Shabbat Shalom from your favorite token gentile,
jeff

The Master of Disaster, Apollo Creed   "Ain't gonna be no rematch."
Rocky,  "I don't want one."
 

Fishwatching and the Ironman 2015

   In Kailua Kona, the second week of October is taken over by the Ironman World Championship.  Sandra and I volunteered in registration, where we had the chance the meet the contestants, who come

Can you see the swimmer in the middle? Photo SKG

mostly from North America, Western Europe and Australia.  On Saturday we watched the race.  

    Our best Ironman moment came in the morning.  We were down at the pier just as time expired for the swim.  The swimmers are given two hours and 20 minutes to complete the 2.4 mile open ocean swim.  We watched as the last swimmer to finish came struggling in.   When the top competitors finish the swim, they are moving right along, but not this lady.  She splashed for five minutes, as she made her way down the length of the pier, the multitude on Alii Drive shouting encouragement.  Simultaneously,  all the guides and marshals had no one else to monitor, so this last swimmer was surrounded by Ironman personnel on their paddleboards.  As she emerged, with just over a minute to spare, she received a huge ovation.  Our champions are like deities on Olympus.  Our age group competitors are like brave hobbits, fighting against all the dark forces of the Ironman: the wind, heat and waves.  God bless ya, Frodo.
     We timed it just right and we were at the finish line for both the men's and women's champions.  This is a very happy moment, the crowd lines the pathway to the finish and the leader is led to the finish line by two Polynesian warriors bearing tiki torches.  One

The Winner is Led Down Alii Drive by a Torch Bearer  Photo SKG

 is alerted to the finish, as a helicopter appears out of nowhere, presumably to document the event.. The only other time we see a helicopter in Kailua is at Christmas when Paul Allen is ferried back and forth from his yacht to his estate.   As usual, the top finishers looked like they could run another race. That degree of fitness is unfathomable.

    In spite of the runners and bikers training on our roads, we still managed to get in a few snorkels.  It has been noted that the Ironmen and their families are so involved with their sport, that they do not partake in the water related activities.  I went to Kahalu'u the day before the race and the park was virtually deserted.  Luckily the water was cool, flat and clear.  While there was not a plethora of fish or invertebrates, I did manage to find a nice and cooperative example of the Dragon Wrasse.  Just before  spotting the dragon, I had a glimpse of an immature shortnose, which made three consecutive visits to Kahalu'u where I had seen that species.  In this way, the immature shortnose wrasse progressed from fish of the year to dirt fish in a week.  Having said that, I'll probably never see another one.

    On that day, I also spotted a small Elegant Hermit Crab.  As the coral has been bleaching and degenerating following our hot summer, I have had lots of opportunity to think about the ramifications.  Half

Will the last hermit crab to Leave K Bay turn out the lights.

 the time I am snorkeling these days, I am wondering which species will be able to survive in the absence of coral.  My guess is that we will have fewer reef fish and more species will be driven into the depths, where there is less damage to the coral.  My guess is that crustaceans like the hermit crabs will be even harder hit than the fish.  They require the crevices and the branches of the coral to protect them from the wrasses and their friends.  The coral also provides a substrate upon which they find their daily bread.  Setting aside this sad prophecy, we can enjoy this picture of the elegant crab with the bright blue eyes.

     A couple days after the race, Sandra and I went on a night snorkel on Paul Allen's Reef with Bob Hillis.  Aside from the usual cardinalfish and squirrelfish, we were lucky to see a brotula.  He was resting on a ledge right by the entrance to Paul's private lagoon

Bearded Cusk Eel / Photo c/o Wikipedia

 and, when illuminated, dodged into a crevice.  By diving down about six feet and holding onto the reef, we were able to illuminate him and get a peek at his whiskered visage.  This species, the only brotula likely to be seen by a snorkeler in Hawaii, is the Bearded Cusk Eel.  It is not an eel, although it has a single dorsal and ventral fin that meet to form the tail, much like an eel.  It lives in crevices and comes out rarely at night.  Hence, unless you are a diver who is poking deep in crevices by day, you will only see one at night.  This was a very lucky encounter with an extremely strange fish.

Not only that, but it reminds me of the song sung by the Cowardly Lion, while Dorothy and her companions were waiting to see the wizard:

What Makes a Cusk Eel Guard His Cusk?

"What makes a muskrat guard his musk?
What makes a cusk eel guard his cusk?
Whadda they got that I ain't got?
The Ultimate Guide to Hawaiian Reef Fishes!
You can say that again."

    And who knew that Bert Lahr was such an enthusiastic fishwatcher?  Go figure.

    Yesterday, five days after the running of the Ironman, Bob and I went up to Mahukona.  He had been there twice, same as me, but we had never been together.  (The respective better halves held down the fort at the Daylight Coffee Company.)   Similar to my experience a few weeks ago, there was no wind in Kawaihae, but at Mahukona there was a significant breeze with whitecaps offshore.

   Unlike our recent trip, yesterday there were lots of swimmers.  It wasn't like Cruise Ship Day at K Bay or any mid-morning down at City of Refuge, but here the entry is limited to the ladder, one swimmer at a time.

It was a busy day at MHK.

 This is Hawaii, so everyone was polite as he or she waited to climb up out of or flop into the water.  

    Another difference was the clarity.   The water was much more cloudy everywhere in the bay, extending even into the depths offshore.   Luckily this didn't effect the fishwatching too much.  Of course, the photography is intimately associated with water clarity.  but a good carpenter does not blame his tools and neither does a good fishwather blame the ocean.

   Early on we happened upon a Milletseed Butterflyfish.  As recently as seven years ago John Hoover called the millletseed butterflyfish, "Hawaii's most abundant butterflyfish."   Boy Howdy (that's Walt Longmire-speak) have the times changed.  The milletseed is

found, apparently, below snorkeling depths on a regular basis.  However, I had not seen one in almost two years.  I had wondered if I would ever see one of these yellow beauties again.   I fondly remember the schools of milletseeds at K bay and this particular fish made me very happy.

  I chased that milletseed around for a few minutes trying for a good photo.  As it turns out, I saw a second milletseed on the way in.  It might have been the same fish, but the colors seemed brighter, especially in the picture.  Could there be two?  O frabjous day, caloo callay.

     At the entrance to the bay, abut ten feet down there is a pipe of questionable utility.  Upon it I found several handsome colonies of sponges.  Big healthy sponge colonies aren't so common down in Kona and a

reticulated butterflyfish was swimming around to add more beauty to the display.  Although I got an excellent look (and I imagine you are enjoying the picture) I am not sufficiently skilled to put a name on this sponge.  Looking at John Hoover's pictures in Sea Creatures, I wonder if it might be fire sponge, so until you know better, please approach these handsome animals with caution.

    In the depths of the rock wall of the north cusp we saw an octopus.  This was my first octopus in six months.  He was a handsome fellow, swimming back and forth, changing his color from a dark chocolate to a mottled gray, matching the coral rubble.  He was about thirty feet deep and the water clarity, or lack thereof, prevented good pictures.  (Although I took a dozen, none are worth showing you.)  Every time I dove down to get a little less cloudy water between meplayful mollusc, he retreated into the coral.  I had a great time with the octopus, but sadly,

Blacklip Butterflyfish   Mhaukona  October 2015

this is another animal that needs hiding places in the coral to flourish.

     On the way back in, I dove down to get a look at that second milletseed butterflyfish and came face to face with a yellowtail filefish.  the camera wasn't turned on and by the time it came up he was hiding.  I did get that picture of the bright milletseed butterfly that you saw earlier.

    In the coral opposite the end of the pier, I saw a blacklip butterfly dodging in and out among the coral.  While I was chasing him around for a picture, a Racoon Butterfly swam nearby.  I knew the Blacklip, also known as Klein's, was small, but the raccoon seemed huge by comparison.  In fact, it is a little less than twice as big.  Persistence paid off and we finally got a couple pretty good pictures of that small butterlyfish, especially when you consider the cloudy water closer to shore.

    Well, I said I wasn't going to blame the ocean and I did anyway.  We saw other good stuff including and orange tailed immature of the pinktail triggerfish and a school of oval chromis.  Too many fish to describe in detail.  Mahukona is a really good place to look for fish and I hope to see you there.

jeff