Thanksgiving, City of Refuge and the Huskies

    Yesterday one of my dear readers cut me to the quick.  So much time had elapsed since my last post that he wondered if we were out of town. Well, we have been here all the time, blessed with a variety of distractions, but also, in spite of regular ventures into the deep blue sea, or in my case the aqua blue shallows, we haven't run across anything so blog-worthy that I was driven unbidden to the keyboard.

    The most significant thing that has happened in the interim is the return of Anita.  Anita is a dear friend from the inland metropolis of Calgary, Alberta.   Until we met Anita, it must be pushing  up around ten years
now, I had thought of Calgary as a small cow town in the middle of nowhere.  Innumerable sources verify almost two million souls live in metropolitan Calgary.  Who, in the words of my sainted mother, would have thunk it.

   Sandra and I have had several opportunities to go snorkeling with Anita during her six week Hawaiian interlude.  In her first week back, she added a full face mask to her snorkeling outfit.  This change from a goggle-type mask was fueled by a dental problem which was affecting her bite on the snorkel.  In Anita's case, there was an even bigger advantage.

    Anita is perhaps the most enthusiastic person I have ever known.  She enthuses over everyone and everything.  the only one I know who has ever matched her enthusiasm is my son's dog, Riley.  Riley, half Golden and half Irish Setter, loves to greet you, he spins in circles, jumps up and yips.

Until recently he was enthusiasm incarnate.  Just in our last visit we noted that Riley, who is pushing up to his

Anita's Enthusiasm Is Now Unchallenged

sixth birthday, was mellowing.  Anita is well past her sixth birthday and she is still going strong.

    Such is the nature of her enthusiasm, that she is driven to remark on each wonderful event as it occurs.  In the water, this has occasionally caused moderate clinical aspiration. Now ensconced in her full face mask, we can no longer hear what she is saying and at the same time this dome of plastic provides the ultimate prophylactic against aspiration.

    Since the last blog, and I have to agree that this covers the better part of a month, we have had a chance to go snorkeling with Anita a few times.  A couple weeks ago, she and I went to Kahalu'u.   The water was cool and clear.  Near the entrance, we saw the Devil Scorpionfish that has been patrolling that venue for a number of months.  He gave my companion the complete show, flapping his orange and yellow pectorals for her amusement.

    A bit further out, I noticed two cone shells side by side in a coral.  I plucked one and sure enough, a cone shell hermit crab was living inside.  We enjoyed a wonderful display and took some pictures.  Anita had some enthusiastic remarks, but due to the face mask I was unable to hear what she said.  Back on shore, I was showing her my pictures and she said she wasn't sure she had seen our friend Stripey.  Fortunately, I

No one could threaten Hari krabi like Belushi

was able to show her a picture of Stripey on her own camera.  This was a good thing, because I was already feeling badly about interrupting Stripey and Stripe-ette form whatever happy congress they might have been anticipating.  To have done so needlessly would have destroyed my inner harmony for the rest of the morning... at the minimum.  I might have had to commit hari krabi.   One must consider the psychic consequences before messing with amorous hermits.

 I will leave it to the true invertebrate zoologists in the crowd to describe the physiology of crabbies in love.

    Last week Sandra and I hauled Anita and her husband Brian to Beach 69.  Brian is a publisher, specializing in science fiction.  He enjoys the warm Hawaiian climate in the winter, but is of the ilk that tends not to go snorkeling...or to the beach, for that matter.  In fact, this was the first time we had enjoyed Brian's company at the beach.

    Our original intent had been to go to Ho'okena, but there was rain forecast, so we

Cone Shell Hermit Crab  Ciliopagurus strigatus

chose instead to head north.  Much to our chagrin, when we got to Puako the wind was blowing a steady 25 knots, gusting to 40.   The peppering sand in the parking lot rivaled a Santa Anna sandstorm in the Mojave.

     Wind is no stranger to Beach 69, but when you get down to the actual beach, the land and trees tend to block much of it.  Brian reclined in his chair with a fresh 10 knots blowing around to keep him cool while Sandra, Anita and I swam in the bay.  Out near the southern cusp the wind was picking up and so we headed back .

   At this point Sandra decided to go in, but Anita and I persevered and swam the additional fifty yards to the north.  Just as we were heading for the beach, an extraordinarily handsome leatherback whipped by us, swimming in the opposite direction.  Where most of these slender jacks with the cute black and white dorsal fin bear a steely gray flank, this fellow sported a handsome rainbow and bronze, resplendent in the morning

Brian at Beach 69.  Holding Down the Fort.

light. Of course he was long gone before I could think to get the camera out.

    Before we made it to the beach, we were treated to a pair, male and female, of pearl wrasse.  Not only had I not seen this uncommon species previously at Beach 69, I'm pretty sure that I have not seen both sexes together before.  Sadly, these fast moving fish did not make it onto the SD card, either.  But our swim ended with two really good fish species.

   Thanksgiving was a beautiful day here in Kona, dawning cool and clear.  I made my way down to Kahalu'u.  Traditionally, this morning has been dedicated to a hunt for a turkeyfish, also known as the Hawaiian Green Lionfish.  In my 38 years of snorkeling in Hawaii, I have seen exactly two turkeyfish.  Thus, unlike my yearly quest for the Christmas wrasse, there isn't a strong likelihood of success.

    As we have noted in prior years, the combined chapters of AA take over the Kahalu'u shelter on Thanksgiving morning, relegating the rest of us to the tables in the sandy park.  Luckily I found one in the shade and I was soon in the cool clear water.  Even though it was early, this being Thanksgiving, there were 

Ambon Toby Canthigaster amboinensis  K Bay, Thanksgiving Day

surprising number of people in the water.   There was nothing unusual, but in the process of being thankful, I took pictures of two fish that I usually take for granted.  Perhaps you will give thanks for these pictures of the Ambon toby and the female elegant coris, both of which posed cooperatively in the clear water and morning light.

   By the time I got back to my table, someone had thoughtfully sloshed a heaping helping of cherry shaved ice onto my stuff.  Or was it cranberry sauce?   I didn't taste it to ascertain the truth, but I probably needed an extra incentive to do laundry.  How's that for treasuring my fellow human beings, now matter how disgusting?

   We celebrated Thanksgiving with our sometimes neighbors at Alii Villas.  You're probably thinking, "Oh no!  Now he's going to bore us with Thanksgiving dinner from soup to nuts."  But two interesting things happened while we were there at the Alii Villas barbecue lanai.

    First, midway through my turkey ham mashed and scalloped potatoes string beans with mushroom soup

Elegant coris female, Thanksgiving Day

and dressing, my friend for fifteen years appraised em that the Huskies would play the Cougars on Black Friday, not on Saturday as I had assumed.  We agreed that this was going to be a close game.   Had it not been for Gary (who being from Spokane supports the Cougs) I would have missed the game.  As things transpired, Gary probably wishes that he'd missed the game.

    Before we were permitted to eat dessert the chairwoman of the condo board said a few words and then asked us to each take the microphone and say why we were thankful.  I'm sure that more than a few of us wanted to channel Lieutenant Frank Drebbin,  take the microphone and retire to the facilities for a leak.  But no, we each had to say a few words or forfeit our pecan pie.  Midway through this tedious litany a girl unknown to me got unsteadily to her feet.  She was probably 35, but in my dotage anyone under 55 is a girl.  At any rate she said, "I don't live here.  I live , like, four condos down.  But everyone is so nice to me here.  And there's this one lady,  I don't know who the fuck she is, but every time I see her she runs up and hugs me and kisses me and pinches my cheeks and says shayna puna. I mean, how nice is that?"

   And how lucky are Sandra and I to have a friend like that?

Happy Thanksgiving,
jeff

See you at the Pac 12 Championship Next Saturday!

    

            

Trick or Treat at Ho'okena

     Up where we live, high on the slopes of Mount Crumpet, there is no trick or treating.  It may be well known among the urchins that we live next door to the Grinch, who is as likely to be as down on Halloween as Christmas. In actuality, I assume that it is because a child afoot would expend more calories going up

Sandra the Good Witch says, "Trunk or Treat"

and down the steep driveways than they would regain in the proffered treats.  I suppose they could go trick or treating on ATVs, but that's just plain silly.

   But this year Sandra and I were lucky.  We were invited to Trunk or Treat at our church.  In years past, this event had been sponsored by the Samoan congregation.  However, our new pastor Sunny (she of the yellow noodle) is a big fan of this quintessential American holiday and had it opened up to all, regardless of which island group you hail from.  Before the nominative candy giving from the trunks of the assembled vehicles, we were encouraged to hobnob (or is it hobgoblin?) with a couple dozen children ranging from 3 to 9.  I went as a pirate and as such was afforded the opportunity to sword fight with an eight year old storm trooper who was determined to make me surrender the booty.  ARR.  Gotta get that kid out on the soccer pitch.  You can teach foot work, but pure aggression is another smoke entirely

Relinquish the Booty!

   Sandra made an adorable witch, especially as she posed in front of her Dia de los Muertos wall hanging which was cleverly suspended in the trunk of our Honda. With a Christmas candle burning on a TV tray, it made for a stunningly creepy tableau.  The material for the wall hanging was brought back from Mexico City three years ago, the witch hat was purchased at K Mart the day before Halloween.  True to the name given this event, after an hour and a half of fun and games (bobbing for marshmallows, making mummies from toilet tissue) the children went from trunk to trunk, filling their plastic pumpkins with chocolate.  They filled those plastic jack o' lanterns in about ten minutes.

   The next morning, which was the actual Day of the Dead, we loaded up early and headed to Ho'okena.  This was the first outing outside Kailua for my rehabilitating knee  It had been over two months since we had been to this beach, which I always list as one of our favorite spots.

    The day was a pleasant high overcast and the sea was calm, just tiny waves hitting the southern end of the beach.   The water was cool, around 80 or so, and super clear.  Very near shore we encountered some unusual sponges growing in the sandy debris.  These turned out to be Vagabond Boring Sponges.  When

Vagabond Boring Sponges

they aren't putting your guests to sleep, they use acid secretions to bore into limestone substrate, poking their noses out of the sand.

   We eventually found a way to disengage ourselves without hurting the sponge's feelings and headed straight out,  making for the coral where we last saw the angelfish two months previous.  Our short term memory (assuming that is what one uses to remember an event less than 90 days in the past) was intact and we navigated right to the coral in question.  For those of you who might want to duplicate this feat, I can now say that this patch is right on the margin, to the north is more coral and to the south (left for the directionally challenged) is the ex-coral..  Or to further paraphrase the great John Cleese, that coral is deceased, it is no more, it rests in peace.  To put it more precisely, it is now sand.

    Just in case you don't feel old enough, I am including a picture from the famous Dead Parrot sketch in which John Cleese attempts to return a dead Norwegian Blue Parrot to shopkeeper Michael Palin.  Both

This Parrot is deceased.

Cleese and Palin are still on this side of the daisies ( and so are you if you are reading this) but my goodness, don't they look just like those smart alecky kids who, at every turn, are trying to ruin your life and calling you, "Gramps".

   Back in the cool clear water at Ho'okena, we found the correct coral patch and over the next few minutes Sandra and I were rewarded with a good look at at least two Potter's angelfish.   As per usual, when I dove to attempt a picture, they retreated into the recesses of the coral.  Some authors have noted that Potter's Angelfish is associated with rich coral growth.  I would amend that to say that these fish are associated with coral that provides a myriad of hiding places.  Back home on Paul Allen's Reef, there is a patch of dead coral which retains its structure and over the years has been a pretty good place to find Potter's Angelfish.  As long as they are able to slip away from the would be photographer, these fish seem to be perfectly happy.   Its not as if they are eating the live coral.

      With that good start we headed across the bay where we spotted a fine cushion star.  I haven't seen one

Ringtail Wrasse Posing at Ho'okena

of these beauties at the pier lately, but apparently it is still the year for this previously unusual species.

    Just after we saw the starfish, we ran into a group of four snorkelers wearing dive skins and speaking alternately in accented English and a foreign tongue that eluded identification by my Henry Higgins-like ear.   Sandra said, "I'm a good girl, I am." and we continued our perusals.  Along the way she drew my attention, under a modicum of false pretenses,  to an especially handsome ringtail wrasse, which posed cooperatively.

    We completed a large loop without seeing too much more and Sandra decided she would head to the beach.  Even though nine (AM) is the new ten, I had just seen a school of manini which hadn't been present earlier and I had a hunch that those flame angels might now be awake.  So bidding my schmoopie a fond farewell, we turned the army around and headed back out to the angelfish coral.  This was a good 

choice, as almost immediately I spotted at least one flame angel.  The water was so clear that I didn't need to

Flame Angelfish on the Day of the Dead 2016

get too close to obtain a picture, which was a good thing as this angelfish did not let me get within five feet before it dodged into the coral.

    On one of those dives, my peripheral vision caught site of a Yellowtail Filefish.  Once again the clear water paid off and I nabbed the picture you see below, with a Potter's angelfish and an aspricaudus in the same frame.  In addition to cushion starfish, this has been a pretty good year for aspricaudus.  In the last six months I have now added it to the lists for Paul Allen's Reef, Kahalu'u and Ho'okena.  One would suspect that they have been there all along, but there is no substitute for actually seeing the slithery little fellows.  I finally got my fill of the fire engine red angelfish and headed towards shore, where Sandra was waiting patiently.   You might think that this was because she loves me, but having the car keys attached to ones swim trunks engenders a special kind of affection.

Yellowtail Filefish left and Potter's Angelfish Right.  Best Aquarium Ever.

Disappearing Wrasse, Ho'okena 2016

   Her patience was further tested as, about thirty yards from shore, I saw a red wrasse on the bottom.  I was fairly sure that this was an eightline wrasse playing hide and seek among the coral about ten feet down.  He let me dive close.  I saw the stripes and nabbed the pictures you see here.  When I had the pictures downloaded to the computer, I noticed that this fish was mighty red.   I referred to the Ultimate Guide, in which John Hoover mentions fine stripes on the disappearing wrasse.  Up to that point I had regarded that fish as plain red without markings and probably found only at scuba diving depths.  Reading John's description more carefully, I found that the very first Disappearing Wrasse was found in a tidepool near Hilo.    My confidence building, I ended up writing an email with pictures to this ultimate adjudicator.  Was this the pinko Pseudocheilinus sacco (which I had seen before) or  the red Pseodocheilinus vanzettii, which was a life fish?

    We held the presses until the word came back form  the Massachusetts State Supreme Court, Justice John Hoover presiding.  The identification was confirmed as Ps. vanzetti (actually evanidus) the

Break Out the Bubbly Before He Disappears.

Disappearing Wrasse.  Well, as Dom Peringnon said, "Brothers, I'm seeing stars and they look like little red fish."  Of course, that isn't exactly what Dom Peringon said, Sacco and Vanzetti were anarchists not communists and John Hoover does not preside over the Massachusetts Supreme court.  Yet. But make no mistake, this was a re-appearing Disappearing Wrasse.  Before moving on, I will call your attention to how prominent those putatively fine lines are.  The difference between the eightline and the disappearing wrasse is not as great as the field guides would have one believe.

   Soon enough I was on the beach, where the minimal wave action made landing a piece of cake.  Sweetie and I enjoyed an early lunch and the the fine folks at our favorite beach park.  On my way back from changing, I ran into the foursome we had seen out by the cushion starfish.  They had parked their minivan diagonally across the sidewalk in such a way that they could take a shower, and not get their feet dirty afterwards.  Of course, if someone like yours truly wanted to use the sidewalk it was
inevitable that you would need to interact with them.

  They were still speaking an inscrutable tongue.  And not only that, but they had spiffy little covers for their

Ps. sacco and Ps. vanzetii.  Judge Hoover says its vanzettii.

side view mirrors, white nylon emblazoned with a stylized double barred cross in red..  I asked them, "Are you from Georgia?"  ( I will admit this was a bad guess, the Georgian flag has numerous single barred red crosses.)  The perkier of the two girls answered in English, "Oh no, we are from Slovakia."  She went on to say, "Its in Central Europe."...just in case I thought it might be between Mississippi and Alabama.  I smiled and assured her that in the Land of the Ironman, we know our obscure central European countries, even if we aren't totally solid on their sundry crosses.

   To eliminate any confusion for you, my faithful readers, I am including a Slovakian flag.  Note that when the flag is displayed vertically, the fanciful double cross arising  from water is rotated.  When it is displayed on a side view mirror the colors are reversed.

  Back at the table, I was checking out my pictures when a size 14  or so with a southern accent wandered through the shelter.  Look  at this one, I said, showing her the previously mentioned ringtail wrasse.  As she

Slovakia, Slovakia ...

admired the picture, she said that she had been living near the Mauna Lani for two months and this was her first time at Ho'okena.  I responded with what a great place this was to see fish, dolphins and campers from Europe.  The only possible drawback, I said, was that sometimes in the afternoon the mood among the  locals became a little dark.  "Oh." she said authoritatively, "I don't have any problem with the locals.  I just set down and have some beer with them."

   A bit later some dolphins swam into the bay.  They lingered just long enough to goad a score or two swimmers to give chase. so quickly id those swimmers appear that they must have been waiting on the beach at the ready.  As soon as the swimmers were well away from the beach the dolphins swam away.  If only the swimmers had thought this through, they would have offered the dolphins a beer. 

jeff

Trunk or Treat