An Easter Egg Hunt

  The weather here in Kona has been spectacular, relatively dry with pleasing winds and blue skies.  Saturday night we had dinner on the lanai with friends.  So clear was the sky that we saw a green flash, perhaps only the third that we have witnessed from Casa Ono.  From the standpoint of a green flash, it

The Sand Sea Cucumber  H. arenicola  Kailua Kona 2016

 doesn't hurt that our new neighbor cut down the monkeypod tree that blocked a large portion of our view of the horizon.

   Easter Sunday dawned clear and cool and the Redoubtable SKG and your humble correspondent  made our way to the pier to look for the Easter Coris.  Kahalu'u would have been a virtual lock, but a very low tide was due at 9:43 and Sandra doesn't do low tides at K Bay.  Given that the entrance has been scoured of sand, its hard to blame her.

   We negotiated the traffic, bearing the faithful to mass at St. Michael's and then, to our surprise, had to deal with a large number of recreational swimmers on the Ironman side of the pier.  As it turns out, large numbers of ladies swim on Sunday morning, going out in flights at 8, 9 and 10.  Or so we were informed by a matron of a certain age.   The ladies were there in droves to celebrate the resurrection with a

Bluestripe Butterflyfish  Easter 2016

 vigorous swim. There were certainly a large number of such to contend with as we swam through the cold, clear water.  All collisions were handled with Easterly politeness.

    On the way out, we saw a few fish but no Elegant (Easter) Coris.  We made our turn at the palace.  Immediately I spotted a Sand Sea Cucumber adrift on the sandy bottom in about fifteen feet.  I was able to dive close enough to get the picture you see here.  Along with the Stubborn Sea Cucumber, this makes the second pretty good sea cucumber in a week.   Too bad they need to be in a pre-morbid state for me to get a look.

    As there was no boat traffic on Easter morning, we swam in on the outside of the swim buoys.  Near the orange mooring buoy, I spotted a handsome Potter's Angelfish in about twelve feet.  We were both able to get a good look before he swam under a coral, refusing to reappear.  This is essentially the same spot we saw Potter's two months ago.  Certainly one needs to consider boat traffic before venturing to this portion of the reef, but a glimpse at this handsome angelfish is enticing.

    We swam together to the pier and were treated to a Bluestripe Butterflyfish.  He was swimming around the coral head where we saw the cushion star two months ago, hence he was fairly shallow and he permitted

Convex Crab out for a stroll on Easter morning.

the pictures you see here.  We have seen this butterflyfish near the pier in the past, but it is rather uncommon.  I see less than one a year.

    Shortly after tiring of annoying Mr.Bluestripe, we got the best treat of the day:  a Convex Crab scuttled over the reef right in front of me.  I had the camera in my hand, so I was able to snap a picture before he headed under a rock.  Luckily, he didn't go all the way under the rock, so I was able to dive down and take a couple more photographs with him partially exposed.  This might have been only the second Convex that I have identified; the three white spots are diagnostic. 

    The convex is half the size of the seven eleven crab, the other member of the genus Carpillius that we

Convex Crab hiding out,  Kailua Kona, 2016

 see on the Hawaiian reefs.  Keeping the puffy shape of this genus in mind, it is possible that I have seen a few more and wasn't able to put a name on the crab before he scuttled away.  

    As we swam in, Sandra found a nice Yellowtail Coris in the shallows by a remarkably clod spring.  I don't suppose that we will qualify for the Polar bear Club, but swimming through apatch of 65 degree water will wake you up on an Easter morning.  That was the closest we came to an Easter Chorus on this morning, but I'm sure you will agree that we collected some delightful Easter eggs during our hunt. 

I think I see an Easter Egg in there!

  

Hanging With Hong

    Lately my brother, who is perhaps the chief inspiration for this literary effort, has been clamoring for another blog.  He is currently laid up in his house just north of Seattle recovering from major knee surgery.

Yellow Tangs at city of Refuge March 2016

We ain't talkin' 'bout no little arthroscopy, either.  He is hors de combat for four weeks.  Suffice it to say, there is nothing like being turned into a virtual shut in to set you to clamoring for a blog.

   With that in mind, the blogmeister and his sweetie have been doing their level best to seek out an adventure worthy of this site.  A few days ago we went to City of Refuge.  We had checked out the surf and tides, timed it perfectly, got a great parking spot and had a pure white bread experience.  The tourists on the beach were friendly enough, the water was calm clear and cool and the fish were about what you would expect. We did see a couple mature Thompson's surgeon and a Thompson's Butterflyfish getting himself cleaned, which might have been exciting five years ago.  Taking pictures of gray fish is a pretty low yield sort of enterprise, so I let it pass.

   One has to wonder if Mr. Thompson, an illustrator for the Bishop Museum, was a particularly drab sort of

fellow.  Obviously he didn't name these fish after himself.  Did some ichthyological wag put Thompson's name on the two dullest reef fish in Hawaii as an inside joke?  You can contemplate this over a bowl of milquetoast.

   The clear water begged for a photo, so I nabbed this group of yellow tangs.   Better than nothing.

    The closest thing we had to a real adventure occurred at the coffee outlet in Napoopoo where we were accosted by the resident flock of chickens.  Ordinarily these chickens are stand-offish; it wasn't why they were so friendly, but we assumed it had something to do with alimentation.   The proprietors were not offering any bakery samples, which we would have gladly purloined for the Fowles (John or otherwise) so I suppose we were as big a disappointment to the brood as City had been to us.

    Struggling to find a story, I went down to the pier two days ago.  Again there were no unusual fish.  In fact, I can pretty much assure you that the blacklip butterfly and the cushion star are no longer in residence.  I did spot this sea cucumber (possibly the Stubborn Sea Cucumber, H. pervicax ) flopping around in the shallows, presumably in a

The Stubborn Sea Cucmber, H. pervicax, Kailua Kona pier 2016

pre-morbid state. We see these lesser known species about once a year, virtually always an individual who has given up the ghost and failed to return to his rubble abode after his nocturnal peregrinations.

    As I got out of the water, I struck up a conversation with a bearded gentleman who was down for a morning dip, no long distance swimming or snorkeling, just hanging in the water.  Years ago he had lived in Kona, but now resides in Los Angeles.  With my new found knowledge of that metropolis, I dared to ask where in LA he lived.  Out in the valley, he said, up against the mountains near San Fernando.  I was able to talk to him about our failed search for Lawrence's Goldfinch in a park not too far from where he lives, fifteen miles being not too far around Los Angeles.  Although I could not remember the name, my description allowed him to name Hansen's Dam.  Sounds like water, but this park is actually a huge complex of  athletic fields surrounded by brush.  We saved the day by crossing the freeway and driving up into the San Gabriels, which were full of spectacular valleys and studded with blooming yucca.  But I digress.

    Well.  All this drivel did not amount to a blog, so yesterday I dutifully repaired to Kahalu'u, after making

Snowflake Moray at Kahalu'u.  Always a pleasure to be seen.

 sure I was not going at low tide. No injured feet for your humble reporter.

    It being Saturday, there was a baby luau occupying the kiosk at K Bay.  At least I assumed it was a baby luau.  There was a bunch of balloons, pink, blue and white, attached to one of the poles, but no posters proclaiming the baby's birthday, no stacks of gifts and only a handful of celebrants.

    Walking around to the ocean side I did run into a baby, a young woman and a man of about my age, the latter two being clearly of the Asian persuasion.  As he plopped the niño in his car seat near my feet, he said, "Excuse me, we have a baby. Our baby!"  and then spoke a phrase or two to the young woman in one of those inscrutable Asian languages.  My first thought was, "You old goat!"  Then, being the friendly amigo that I am, and fishing for a story for the blog, I inquired, "Are you from Japan?"

    "No." he replied.  "Korea....South Korea."  This latter, I assumed, was to reassure me that he wasn't packing a miniaturized nuclear weapon.  Perhaps that wasn't really a baby!  He then went on to say, "But

Submit your vote for the Easter Chorus to Ichthyology Inc.

we live in San Francisco."    I asked if they worked for a company like Google and the young lady replied, "No.  We are in health care."

    As I changed to go into the ocean, we became fast friends.  The man, who is named Hong, is an anesthesiologist, as am I.  The difference being that at 71 he is still working, traveling around the country doing locums jobs, while I, for the past three years, have been a slacker.   His wife is a retired anesthesiologist. And one of his daughters is an anesthesiologist.  And possibly one of his son in laws is one, as well.  Holy Halothane, Batman!

    This whole nest of anesthetists, along with their spouses and children, gradually assembled at the table adjacent to the baby luau, such as it was, and I set off for the sea.  I was in for a disappointment.  Sitting there on the rocks, with my aged derriere in the water, I put on my fins and then, just as I was to plunge into the water, I noticed that I wasn't wearing my mask.   In fact, it was nowhere to be seen.  I recalled, at this

Papa Hazlett's Hermit, Kahalu'u 2016

point, that I had left it on a chair on the lanai in order that it would not be damaged by the fierce Hawaiian sun.

  Well, as we say at the Korean laundry about five blocks up Market Street form Union Square, "No masky, no fishy."   Imagine my chagrin as I reappeared at the table by the baby luau to report my forgetfulness to all my new found friends and depart in disgrace.

   Back at Casa Ono, Sandra took pity on me, we collected the mask and repaired back to Kahaluu.  The family Hong was still there and they bid me good luck as I made it down to the bay.  The water not very cold and cleared as I swam out.  I got a nice picture of a small snowflake moray (perhaps our most handsome eel).  I also nabbed this interesting picture of a male elegant coris.  I am trying to popularize a change in common names for this species, putting  forth Easter Chorus in referece to the cross found on the forehead of the male.

내 블로그를 읽어 주셔서 감사합니다

      Finally I nabbed a mediocre picture of a magnificently  large Hazlett's hermit crab.  It is

always encouraging when one sees an animal that is big enough to  breed.  If this rogue does his duty, there will be another generation of Hazlett's hermits in the offing.  In a way, this is not so different from la familia Hong.  I doubt the hermit crabs will go to medical school or live in San Francisco, but, apparently, that is why God invented Koreans.  South Koreans.

jeff

A Return To Kona or Mind That Burrito

     The morning  after we returned from Mexico, we went snorkeling with our house exchangers.  This was the last morning in Hawaii for Anne and Eric, who had been foiled in their efforts to find some good fish

Anne and Eric Out on the PAR

watching by the persistent high swell.  Lucky for them, I had the best kept secret in my pocket.  Despite the waves battering the coast, it was calm enough on Paul Allen's Reef for the four of us to have a good snorkel.

    At the outset, Anne was determined to explore the area around the end of the pier.  Being raised in New York, she has that "if I can make it there, I can go swimming anywhere!" mentality.  I was reminded of Kozlowski's boy friend in Crocodile Dundee.  He saying, "We don't have any crocodiles, but a fast moving Chevy can sure make a mess out of ya."  My opinion is that those UFO boats that come zipping in to the pier with their rubber nosed parasailors can give a fast moving Chevy a run for its money in a New York minute.  Luckily, Eric was able to prevail upon his bride and we

Stripebelly Puffer, Kahalu'u  March 2016

swam together out to the reef.  The fish watching was pretty much the usual suspects, but if you have been stuck on shore for a week or so, the routine swim out on the PAR is undoubtedly pretty impressive.

   I would like to report that we all made it back to Casa Ono unscathed.  But I wasn't even close to being over the URI that I contract on virtually every airplane trip.  Just after crossing the threshold, I collapsed in bed.  I fear that my swim buddies were a bit horrified by this relapse.  A couple hours later I returned to the land of the living long enough to get them to KOA.   By all accounts our good friends and snorkeling buddies are once again safely ensconced on the rain soaked slopes of Mount Tabor in the Rose City.

    It took a couple weeks, but the swell finally subsided and my immune system won the battle with that tenacious virus.  So at long last, this week we went swimming.  My first outing was to Kahalu'u.  Before

Coral Blenny female,  Kialua Kona Pier March 2016

going in, I was able to secure a report that squid were seen in the bay about two weeks ago.  What I discovered first hand was that all the sand has been scoured form the sand channel, making entry here more uncomfortable than ever before.  Sadly, I saw no squid.  The only thing of note was a brief look at a handsome stout moray.  A large stripe belly puffer was the most interesting denizen I found to photograph.

    A day or two later, I talked Sandra into going swimming with me down at the pier.  The water at K Bay had been surprisingly warm, but we were shocked back to reality as we entered the frigid water at the pier.  The people we met while getting ready to swim had boasted about the clarity and, indeed, the water was remarkably clear.  Swimming out there was precious little to photograph.  Back in by the pier, however, I found  a few animals to admire in the clear water.  A female

Bling!

coral blenny  was begging to have her picture taken.  The coral blenny used to be called the short bodied blenny and it was fairly unusual to see one.  Now on both sides of the pier it is a very common fish.  Last summer, our friends the DeLukes impressed me with their pictures of this odd fish, one that is easy to see but darts for cover when you point a camera at it.  As one usually takes a photograph of this fish from above (it darts away when you try to take a picture from below the surface) I often end up with some odd looks.  Let your eyes go out of focus and see if you can find some other image lurking within those spots. 

    A few minutes later I saw a nice sponge clinging to the base of the pier.  And right beside the sponge was fine bit of bling for my honey.  Sandra is usually the one who finds things, most recently a crisp (well, actually soggy) twenty dollar bill.  Imagine my pride when I presented her with this lovely bracelet bedecked with frolicking honus.  She tried it on and remarked that it

Oval Butterflyfish, Kailua Kona March 2016

was large and that was why it had slipped off a wrist and into the sea.  I commented that it was perhaps made large to fit on the wrist of Bruce Jenner or one of his ilk. 

    I swam around a bit more, hoping to find the cushion star.  (Neither the starfish nor the blacklip butterflyfish was seen this day.)  As I was paddling slowly,  I was approached by a slow moving pair of Oval butterflyfish.   This is hardly an unusual fish on the Ironman side of the pier.  But it is always one step ahead of me, swimming just out of range as I attempt a photograph.  Here I had two oval butterflyfish radiating that inner glow and posing just a few feet away in clear water.  Suffice it to say, I'm very pleased with the resulting picture.

   The word from the PNW is that things are cold and raining.  Sandra and I wish you were all here with us  to enjoy the best weather on the planet as winter comes to an end.      

jeff