A Night Snorkel at Kahalu'u

    Earlier this week, Sandra and I went snorkeling at night with Bob Hillis.  For a very large number of years I have wondered how easy it would be to go swimming at night at Kahalu'u.  With the Hillises leaving for San Diego this week, the time seemed ripe .

    If I were you, there are a few things that would concern me about swimming at night at Kahalu'u. From the administrative standpoint, I am happy to report that all indications point to the gate remaining open and the lights beaming brightly in the large kiosk until 11 PM.

    I have been a bit skeptical of the crowd that I might encounter at night at this venue.  For sure, there was no lifeguard presence.  Or that of any other authority figure.  We encountered a few adults that were quietly

A small anemone crab and some large fingers.

 eating take out food at the tables.  One family was having an evening picnic dinner.  And there was a father horsing around with his children.  Beyond that, there was a group of youths in the 12 to 14 year range.  They were very friendly and posed no problem.  As we never bring anything of value to the beach, there was virtually nothing aside form a few towels and a mesh bag left on the table when we went in to swim.

   On this night there were no drunks, drug addicts or thugs.  I can not speak for other nights.

    We hit the water a little after 7 PM.  the congregation of youths was on the rocks by the entrance.  One of them made a joke about a shark, but mostly they were supportive, wishing us a good swim.

    The tide was about half point, so the water was quite shallow as we crawled through the sand channel.  We were probably a little early seeing only cardinal fish for the first ten minutes.  As the night wore on we saw a couple bristle worms about two inches long swimming free.  We spotted a small scuttling anemone crab which Bob held while I took his picture.  At this point I must tell you that, aside from that one marginal shot of the anemone crab at very close range, my photographic results were abominable.

My best effort with Octopus ornatus.

     Over the next twenty minutes I saw the expected squirrelfish and soldierfish.  I was lucky to see a stout moray and a dwarf moray.  Dwarf moray is a distinctive yellow, approximately the shade they used to paint the hallways in VA Hospitals.  So its not all that pleasant to look at.  But its better than a BKA.   (Old VAH joke.  Google it for the surprise answer.)  It was the first dwarf moray I had seen in a couple years. 

    The lights were blazing brightly in the kiosk all the time.  After about a half hour of flopping around, we
 followed them in.  Up to this point, we had not seen anything of much interest.  But as we came to the last patch of coral, I was suddenly presented with a small octopus.  It was an Ornate Octopus, with a head a bit bigger than a large lemon.  This beauty is also known as the night octopus.  Although I had never seen one before, one has the sensation that if you went snorkeling every night, you might see one three times a year.  As it is, I go night snorkeling about once a year and I will probably never see another!

    The night octopus preened in the glow of our lights.  His  legs were significantly thinner and longer than one would find on a Day Octopus of the same size and, as one would expect, his head was shaped like

Twist his head 90 degrees and you've got a Night Octopus

 Stewie Griffin, only more pointed on the leading end.  ( In the upcoming movie, the octopus will be voiced by Seth MacFarlane.) 

    Eventually this hit of the evening became bored with our adoration and swam off, spurting some ink as a final farewell.  This sort of thing has happened a lot to me.  Especially in high school.  


   Back on shore, everything was as we left it.  We took our cold showers and headed out.  As we reached our car the group of boys passed Sandra and I, heading up the hill.  We all exchanged a pleasant good night.

    I apologize for the lack of photographs.  And for such a milque toast tale.  Getting a night snorkel at Kahalu'u has been on my bucket list (I hate that term) and I thought it only fare to alert those of you who might have similar aspirations.  It is definitely doable.

jeff

Gardening with the Congers

   Early this week we went snorkeling (again) at Beach 69.  This time we took our super good friend Anita, who has to return to Calgary on Wednesday.  There was a small craft waring posted for our coast, but we

Kickin' Back at Beach 69

figured it was her last chance for at least several months...why not take a chance and go to an excellent snorkeling spot.

    As we drove north, there was no wind what so ever until we reached Waikoloa.  By the time we parked at Beach 69, it was blowing so hard I could hardly get the car door open.  Not for nothing do the Kailua real estate agents call the area Waika-blowah!  Anyway, when we made it to the beach, we were in the lee of  the houses and trees and life at our picnic table was rather pleasant. 
   Soon we were in the water, which was surprisingly clam considering that there were whitecaps 50 yards off shore.  Swimming out along the south cusp the water was getting progressively more turbulent.  Just

Hawaiian Conger in fulll Retreat

 inside the point a large eel swam past me, moving rapidly through the shallows.  He had a pointed snout and irregular gray and brown bands, but no black and white ridge on his dorsal fin, like you see on the Goldenhead Moray.  But then his head was plain gray, not at all golden.  As he swam away from me, I could see fins protruding from just behind his head.  Perhaps because I am not accustomed to seeing fins on an eel, these seemed pretty large.   In my field notes I remarked that they were reminiscent of a Chinese dragon.  As the eel swam away, I was able to squeeze off one good shot before he disappeared in the the bubbling turbulence. 

     Luckily Sandra and Anita had been near by and saw the eel when I called and pointed.  When we surfaced to discuss the sighting, the first thing Anita said was, "That was the biggest, slimiest eel I have ever seen!"  Luckily, both of my colleagues, as I phrased them in my letter to Jack Randall, saw the fins.  I had no idea what we had seen.

    We completed our swim, checking out the crevices and valles around the island.
This afforded good looks at the large chubs. Also near the island, a teenage Mu put in an appearance. He was almost the size of an

Mu, Beach 69, April 2015

adult, but retained the distinct barring and yellow face of an immature.  And he was only twenty feet down, so us wimps had a chance to dive for a picture.

   Back at the ranch, I wrote to Jack Randall and
John Hoover, who quickly confirmed that this was a Hawaiian Conger Eel.  In the Ultimate Guide, Hoover has a picture very similar to the one that I took.  A couple photographers on the internet have better head shots, showing the pectoral fins just behind the head.  I have borrowed one of those so you can appreciate the anatomy.  John Hoover commented that it is rare to see one swimming during the day (i.e. they are primarily nocturnal).  Further, when they are seen during the day they are usually a plain gray.  And all the resources note that they are far more readily observed at diving depths.

     So we were very lucky.  But there is more.  If you read John Hoover's text with care, you will discover

Conger Eel courtesy of MARlin

that there are two distinct sub-families, conger eels (Congrinae) and garden eels  (Heterocongrinae).  I recall seeing my first garden eels in the Sea of Cortez way back in the mid 80s.  You know those guys who live in the sand 40 feet down and poke their heads and necks out into water where they sway back and forth like so many asparagus stalks in a spring breeze.  Since then, I have seen garden eels in Hawaii and the Western Pacific.  In my ignorance, I used the name conger eel and garden eel synonymously, blissfully ignorant of the true conger eels.

    Now, not only have I added the Hawaiian Conger (Conger marginatus) to my life list, but I have correctly added the Hawaiian Garden Eel (Gorgasia hawaiiensis).  If you need the latter, they are a chip shot in about 40 feet at Ho'okena.

    And they say ignorance is bliss.

jeff

This Week on the Beach...April 2015

  Over the last week, Sandra and I enjoyed three nice snorkeling trips made possible by cooperative weather and relatively mild seas.  We went to the old standby, Kahalu'u, where we saw the first immature Hawaiian

Ontogeny Recapitulates Phylogeny  Ooom.

Cleaner Wrasse for 2015.  Looking so much like the bluestreak cleaner wrasse of the Western Pacific, one finds himself muttering ontogeny recapitulates phylogeny into his snorkel.  We also saw a sweet baby stripe belly puffer.  Ashore, we had an extremely pleasant chat with a young Indian family.  Originally from somewhere near Goa, they were very pleased with our hot, humid climate.  If only Kona offered the same tech type jobs as San Jose...  Well, I don't even want to consider the ramifications of that.  Sorry honey, I guess we gotta find a different island that we can afford. 

    Yesterday we went to City of Refuge.  Mercifully, the crowd we encountered a month ago had thinned out significantly.  (Perhaps they all went back to San Jose.)  Way out on the north cusp we saw some nice fish, including a dozen pyramid butterflies, a pair of gilded triggerfish and a single immature mu.  Everybody was deep, deep, deep. That morning my sinuses had joined the other side,

Gilded Triggerfish, Hookena August 2013

preventing me from diving deep enough for a reasonable photograph.   I must note that the Gilded Trigger has never been sufficiently shallow for me to obtain a reasonable photo at City of Refuge.  Or, for that matter, anywhere besides Ho'okena, where deeper water fish seem to thrive at snorkeling depths.

    Sandra and I ate our lunch with a young German couple from Frankfurt.  Daniel showed us the newest bit of tourist tech: a 4 x 6 dry bag that suspends from your neck with an adjustable cord.  You put your $500 cell phone in the bag and it works almost as well as a $200 underwater camera.  Ausgezeichnet!

    I had fun trotting out a few fragments of German.  Herr Weinberger  (my German professor back at Fort Vancouver High School ca. 1969)  would be so proud.  All too soon it was time to say auf wiedersehen. 

Blacktail Snapper,  Beach 69,  April 2015

 As we schlepped our kram back to the car, I was only mildly surprised to meet a petite 20 something heading for the beach with her cell phone tucked into one of those  dry bags.  They appear to have replaced those damnable Go Pro sticks as the must have seaside accessory for the year of the sheep.  And not a moment too soon.   Baaa!

    Leaving the United Nations in the capable hands of Claire Underwood, what I really want to tell you about is our trip five or six days ago to Beach 69.  It was a perfect day up north, light breezes and not a trace of vog.  We were accompanied by our friends the Hillises, who are soon returning to Sand Diego.   Bob is a superb fish finder and we will miss him almost as much as his charming bride.

    Our target species was the Hawaiian Seahorse, rumored to live on the southern cusp of this small bay.   We did not find the seahorse, but we did discover that the southern end of Waialea Bay has vastly better

Big Bad Bluefin Trevally, Beach 69, April 2015

coral than the north cusp, where we had snorkeled before.  We saw five really large bluefin trevally.  .  These brutes were around four and a half feet in length, probably the largest ulua I have seen. One permitted me to swim close enough for a fine portrait.  By the small, rocky island we saw large examples of both high fin and bicolor chubs.  This is one of the few bays where spear and net fishing are prohibited and you can see the difference in the size and behavior of these fishes.  Both Bluestripe and Blacktail Snappers were abundant, as well.

    We have adopted Beach 69 as our favorite place to hang out up on the Kohala coast.  The combination of seaside shade and sugary soft sand is a rare commodity on the Big Island.  Now that we have discovered a large expanse of coral with a fine variety of large fish, we will be going there more often.  

jeff

Bluestripe Snapper at Beach 69