The Prodigal Snorkeler Returns to Magic Sands

     Things must have been shaping up for a good fish watching swim.    Our good friend Peter, who lives in Hawi,  developed a little medical problem. Now I agree, that overall this isn't a good thing.

Happy Birthday to Bob.  Less filling, tastes great.

But as a consequence, he and Marla  had to come to Kona to see his doctor at Kaiser Permanente.  And this afforded us the opportunity for a lunch at Ultimate Burger, rife with lots of good fish yarns.   Not only that, but there was a rumor  that our number one snorkeling compadre, Bob Hillis was getting ready to celebrate a birthday.  Hence, I had the opportunity to put together a shark- themed greeting card.

    With all these wonderful harbingers putting wind in my sails, I set off yesterday for the pier.  It was pure kismet that I was unable to find a parking spot.  I'm telling you, there were a dozen cars circling the lot hoping for an illegal spot. And so I found myself motoring south on Alii Drive, past Pahoehoe Beach Park.  And I was surprised to find the ocean down right pacific.    Many of us have been muttering about the sand at Magic Sands Beach Park, which is still present to a surprisingly large degree.  So I thought to myself, "Perhaps this will be the day to go to Magic Sands."

 A beautiful day at Magic Sands

    Its been a while since I have been in the water at Magic sands.  The last time I attempted to go snorkeling was four years ago.  I had ridden my bike south from Alii Villas.  Although their was a substantial amount of surf, I was darned if I was going to let that bike ride go to waste.   Entering the water through the three foot faces, my mask was knocked off and lost in the swirling sandy water.  Suffice it to say, that put the kibosh on
any snorkeling that might have occurred on that benighted day.  I reported my mishap to the lifeguard and he said that I was not alone.  Several people would lose their equipment on such a day.  Amazingly, he reported, many of the masks would  be found by swimmers who would step on them and bring them in.  Following his instructions, I returned to Magic Sands later in the afternoon, and there was my mask.  No surprise.  There was a ton of sand wedged into all the seals.  A trip to a local dive shop provided the opportunity to clean the mask and I'm still using it.  However, I had not gone snorkeling at Magic Sands since that day.  

A View of Magic Sands from the Sea

   The last time I swam at Magic Sands was about two years ago.  My younger son and his wife were visiting, the latter being the sort of girl that you have to keep entertained.  She isn't truly ADD, but she certainly likes to keep busy.  Casting around for something new to do, I suggested that we go swimming at Magic Sands.  It had been calm when we drove by earlier that day, but when we got there in the afternoon, there were two foot faces with bigger sets.  Sandra stayed ashore while the three of us hopped off the rocks into the sandy water.  Out in the swell it was quite enjoyable, paddling around and striking up conversations

Whitemouth Moray at Magic Sands

with tourists and locals enjoying the water just outside the break.  After about twenty minutes it was time for me to head in.  At the shore I was faced with stepping up onto a rock about 18 inches above the sand.  Waves were washing over the rock, making for a tricky target and I was frankly having a bit of trouble.  Luckily a good Samaritan reached out and gave me a hand.  So I lived to write another blog, albeit with a bit more respect for this beach, when the sandy beach has magically washed away.

    But today was special.  The sand was in and the surf down.  Not only that, but I drove right into the small lot and scored a parking spot.  I even found a place on a shaded picnic table to leave my gear.

   The entry was as easy as I had hoped, working through mild surf.  I swam out a bit and headed south around the point.  Immediately I started seeing a nice variety of fish swimming over a reef of dead coral.  It was not until I got into the small bay, known among the dive community as Mile Marker 3 that I saw a single head of living cauliflower.  This is similar to the reef in front of Paul Allen's estate where the kill rate on cauliflowers is 100%.  Over the span of this relatively long swim I saw 2 living cauliflowers.  On the Ironman

Longnose Butterfly at Mile Marker 3.

side of the pier, by comparison, the rate of living to dead cauliflowers is 30 to 1.  Depressing, to be sure, but in these other locations the loss of the genus Pocillipora  (so important as a home for small creatures, including baby fish)  is catastrophic.

   The best things that I saw were a tiny red labrid and three stripe belly puffers.  What I didn't see was a single Achille's tang.  Much is made by a variety of folks, not just men of color, that taking reef fish by spear is an acceptable situation.  Otherwise, they say, the people would starve.  It is my experience that where spear fishing is common, desirable food species like the Achilles tang can be in short supply.  I'm told that if you didn't grow up eating this handsome fish with the orange oval just forward of the caudal peduncle, you would not like it.  On the other hand, many is the time I have seen a diver walk out of the ocean with a half dozen Achilles's tangs on his stringer.   To quote Gary Larson, bummer of a birthmark Hal.

   Eventually on my swim I found myself about 100 yards off shore, all by myself.  I started thinking about that shark on Bob's card and made my way back to the beach, stopping every couple of minutes to check my back.

    The sand being in and the surf being down, getting ashore was a piece of cake.  Life on the beach looked wonderful and I have to call it a happy homecoming after so many years.

jeff

Better be careful if you choose to eat this handsome fellow.

  

The Day We Call Christmas. Or a Visit from the Christmas Wrasse.

   A Visit from the Christmas Wrasse

 'Twas the day we call Christmas.and at Kahalu'u,
The bay rolled with waves 'neath a sky that was blu'u.
The tourists were there in multitudinous number.
Except for the few that were still home a slumber.

The hau'olis held goggles and snorkels and fins
With colored shave ices all over their skins 
Ma in her wetsuit, and me in my vest,
Were determined to swim, along with the rest. 

There was at least one nice Reef Teacher

Getting into the water of course was a battle,
No way to avoid  the interminable prattle,  
Of the brainless Reef teachers (who stick in my craw) 
"Watch out for the turtles or we'll call in the law!"


Soon we were swimming, Christmas wrasses we sought,
Got to do it yourself, for the wrasse can't be bought.
Not for shekels or dollars or euros or yen.
He was here for last Christmas. Would he be here again?


The waves clung like molasses and rocked us and rolled us.
With our ears full of water the surf sang like a chorus.
Yet out by the rocks where we'd seen him before.

Our Christmas Turtle

No wrasses were there, though we saw fish galore.


Puffers and Surgeons, both smaller and bigger. 
And we bagged us a turtle and fine Lagoon Trigger.
We swam to the middle, through the waves that looked frosted.
When we paused in an eddy I said, "I am exhausted."


Said Sandra the Tiger, " To the kiosk return!"
So we revved up our jets and set them to burn.
And we swam there again, with hearts of good cheer.
But this was our last chance, Would we find him this year?

On this day the best photo op was this close approach Ember Parrot

Lagoon Trigger Christmas Day

And then up ahead, multicolors ablaze,
Swam a lone Christmas wrasse through the watery haze.
I pointed and flapped, shouted "Mark!" through my snorkel.
Sounding  nothing so much as a duck in mid chortle.  


we caught him on film as he altered his course.
He and gave Sandra a wink and he said in full force.
"Fear not the Trump.  Seventeen is winner.
That pompous buffon is just a beginner."

Cloudy water, but still a Christmas Wrasse!

Then he turned out to sea, as quick as a ferret,
And he said as he swam (with a fine Christmas spirit)
Be kind to the fish in the water so clear.
Be not naughty, but nice and I'll see you next year.  

jeff 





All the above pictures were taken on Christmas Day 2016.   You will note that the water is fairly flat.  It flattened out just as Sandra and I made it to shore.  "Where is the justice in that?"  I ask you.   The Christmas wrasse was found in extremely cloudy water over by the small kiosk (now condemned by the county.)  So we are including below a picture taken of this beautiful fish in clear water in 2008.

Now that's Christmas.

  

   

 
  

 
   

The Holy Ghost on the Day Before Christmas Eve

   The day before the day before Christmas, Sandra and I had a plan.  We would get going early and bust up the Mauna Kea Beach Hotel for a morning snorkel.   Initially we had contacted Peter and Marla to see if they would like to swim with us at Mahukona, but they had plans to help a disabled friend snorkel that day, so we were on our own.   Everything went according to plan , including a

Seaward Rocks at 49 Black Sand Beach

smooth drop of our yard debris as we exited Kailua going north.  We arrived at the Mauna Kea at 8:35 only to be told that the last beach pass had been awarded three minutes earlier.

   Thus thwarted we had to pick a second choice.  As it is winter and we had our wetsuits, we decided against the long walk to the Mauna Lani beach and chose 49 Black Sand Beach, also at the Mauna Lani but involving a very short walk.

Imitating a Dead Cauliflower Coral

    The day was gorgeous, with blue skies and relatively cool and dry.   The tide was such that we needed to enter through waves over shallow sand and  then step down a slope of about four feet onto the rocky bottom.  It was immediately apparent that the water clarity wasn't very good...not Shanghai at rush hour, but heading in that direction.

    We started swimming to the left, towards the craggy rocks and the sea.  As I swam along over the shallow rocks, I spotted an octopus slithering under a dead head of cauliflower coral.   Sandra was nearby and I called her over.  I explained where the octopus was and we waited.  In many situations, this would be fruitless.  But in this instance we had caught a very friendly octopus.  As long as we stayed about six feet away, he would crawl out, sit on the coral and do his best to look like a piece of cauliflower coral that had given up the ghost in October of 2015.  He was throwing up a variety of textures and brown and gray colors.  Praise Octopus the Holy Ghost.

    After five minutes I changed position and when I stabilized, the octopus was gone.  A moment later Sandra started hooting at me through her snorkel.   She had watched our friend slither over the bottom and down to the base of a yellowish lobular coral.  As I arrived, he was poking his head out, along with his tentacles.  He was now smooth and yellow, like pahoehoe lava made out of crème

Can you see the octopus, now a smooth yellow?

brûlée.  As we watched he tucked himself under the coral and extended two tentacles a surpising length.  Over about thirty seconds he manipulated a hunk of coral rubble about six inches long to produce a barrier in front of his hide away.  I am in awe of octopi, but I had never seen anything like that.

  After swimming across the small bay, we had the opportunity to exchange Christmas greetings with some nice folks on a small boat.  As they motored away Sandra and I serenaded them with a rousing rendition of We wish you a Merry Fishmas (and a halibut New Year.)

    Back on shore, we met a group of young adults from Baylor.  They had buried one of their number, an affable young black fellow, all the way so only his head and neck stuck out of  the sand.  As we left, there were a bunch more people arriving.  Christmas is indeed the busy time here in Kona, for the tourists,  us kama ainas and our friend the octopus.

jeff

   Hard as it is to believe, Sandra and I are now going to church on a regular basis.  Stranger yet, the

Checking out the coral rubble

congregation of the Kona United Methodist Church will sing a carol written by yours truly on Christmas morning...just about twelve hours from this very moment.  Prior to the debut it was printed in the weekly bulletin and I've received positive feedback, which is good because I would suppose a strict doctrinarian might find it offensive.  Who knows about these things?

 I'll leave you with the lyrics.

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

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

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.

When it isn't raining, we get sunsets like this one, taken last week.

Getting Ready for Christmas

     Over the last two weeks, the rain has continued with just a few clear days.  In that time we have

Luminescent Jellyfish

forced ourselves to get in the water regardless of the weather.  I have a few things to report, but by far the most interesting thing to come across our desk here at the Kona Beach Blog is a report from our compadre in Kapa'au, Peter Krotttje,  About a week ago, Peter went snorkeling in his favorite spot, the small bay at Mahukona. He took along a couple friends and they ran into a bay full of luminescent jellyfish.  This is a very rare animal here in Hawaii.  You can read Peter's report by signing on to his blog, onebreathekohala.worldpress.com.  Peter is good photographer and was able to get some usable pictures of these jellies.

   I'm including a picture from google images so you can get an impression of what this animal looks like.  According to Peter, the bell is about three inches across and in addition to the central mass of tentacles, it trails longer stinging tentacles from the edge of the bell.  If you find Peter's pictures, you

I'll have a McMinion with fries, please.

will agree that this animal is quite distinctive.

In case you missed it the first time, stinging is the key word here.  When people see Sandra and I donning our swim shirts and dive skins, which are really just thin nylon with some UV reflective properties, they frequently ask if they keep us warm.  The short answer is , "Not very much."  However, they prevent sunburn, they prevent us from getting scraped on rocks and they protect us from noxious elements in the water.  Like stinging plankton and jellyfish.  You really need to sign on to Peter's blog to get a look at one of his companions on that fateful day.  She wore one of those athletic swimsuits, where straps are substituted for covering material, the very antithesis of a diveskin, and had a mass of stings over her back.  In a word, "Ouch!"

   

    One day before the Krottje Party met their doom at Mahukona, Sandra and I went south.  The night before, she had said that she wanted to visit a couple friends in the hospital and I noted that the Kona Community Hospital is at least half the way to the City of Refuge.  So we decided to kill two birds.

Mother Dolphin With Remora

with one stone.  Just  a little hospital joke.

   Of course, when we woke up on Monday morning it was raining.  Ordinarily this might have caused us to alter our plans.  However, we have had to adjust our meteorological expectations and now we realize that if we want to get out and do things we can not be dissuaded by a little rain.  Or a lot of rain.

    In Kealakekua I dropped Schmoopie off at the hospital to visit the sick while I motored across the Mamalahoa Highway to McDonald's, where I nabbed a few burgers and fries for our lunch.  With one notable exception, the clever inflatable and kinetic hamburger shilling  minion was the best thing we saw on his day.

The Alpha Male Swims to the Surface

   Soon we were down to City of Refuge, where it had stopped raining and there was a parking spot near the beach...a veritable double dip of happiness.  Adding to our happiness, the dolphin pod was swimming in the bay.  Wiki wiki we were changed and in the water, swimming out to the dolphins where they honored us with a few close passes over ten or fifteen minutes.  It had been a few months since we had swum with our friends the dolphins, in large part because we no longer jump in with them if it is inconvenient.  Twice recently we have finished our swim and changed into dry clothes, only to have dolphins arrive while we are dining sumptuously on our après swim sandwich.  this may seem exceptionally lazy.  Perhaps we are spoiled.

 On this day there was an added element to the dolphin show.  You may recall the blog where I described round lesions in the skin of many of the dolphins in the pod and the cookie cutter sharks that creates these hideous wounds.  In such a situation its difficult not to feel helpless, depressed, even sickened.  On this day we saw something at least as depressing.  This pod has a mother dolphin and her keiki.  The mother had a gaping wound just to the left of her dorsal fin.  This wound, perhaps a foot long slice revealing the muscle below, may have been the result of a propeller strike.  Attached to the wound was a slender remora, E. naucrales.  I was never able to get closer to the

Note the healing cookie cutter wounds.

mother dolphin than fifteen feet and the water was rather cloudy.  Hence, I do not have a very good picture.  In this instance, my eyes were better than the camera; I could clearly see the stripe down the side of this long, narrow remora as it whipped back and forth like the tail of a kite, attached firmly to the dorsal wound in the dolphin.

   My impression at the time, was that it was attached by the mouth and was parasitizing the dolphin as she swam.  As we have all known forever, remoras attach by a suction device on the top of their head, often to a shark, dropping off to feed at a propitious moment.  In as much as I have never seen a shark in Hawaii, I had desponded of ever seeing a remora.   (the alternative being to hope for a look at a large shark.)  The bottom line is that I could not see this very thin remora clearly enough to say if it was attached to the wound by the dorsal suction cup or by its mouth.  At the moment, I was sad and disgusted.

So ya sliced up the dolphins for just a little money.

   Just as an aside, from the guy at the blog who's in charge of conspiracy theories:  There is a fairly active movement among the people at NOAA and the  State of Hawaii to stop people from swimming with the spinner dolphins.  (Or as I like to think of it, to keep the dolphins from swimming with us.)  I have long observed that it is the multiple boats bearing paying customers, who approach the pods, encircle them, interfere with them.  And in his instance, carve them like a Christmas goose.  In the words of Frances McDormand in Fargo, "All for a little money."   Curiously, the folks who are in charge of regulating those boats do absolutely nothing to stop this illegal behavior.  If the will of the people of Hawaii were enforced, they would fine the bastards out of business.  And what of the native Hawaiians, who feel so strongly about the telescope.  We have never heard a word on this issue from that community.  

    The remainder of our swim in the cool, cloudy water was uneventful.  We got ashore and changed and ate our sandwich with a fellow amateur naturalist, discussing cookie cutter sharks, who live in the depths by day

Pervagor aspricaudus By Paul Allen's Lagoon

and swim up at night to do their dirty work, propeller injuries and other transgressions, natural and man inflicted.  We loaded up the car just as it started to rain.  Again. 

    It should be noted that the following night I was awakened by the light of a full moon.  Such has been the inclemency, that there had been no mooonlight for several days.  Both our snorkel at City and Peter's adventure at Mahukona, occurred during the full moon period, when stinging plankton are more common.  But who knew?   I don't know if jellyfish have any relationship to the full moon.

    Getting ready for my Christmas swim in search of the eponymous wrasse, Thallasoma eponomatum, following that trip to Two Step I have taken advantage of a couple sun breaks to do some snorkeling.  My swim on the Ironman side of the pier a few days ago revealed nothing more interesting than a stout moray eel.  No Christmas Wrasse, but I did have the opportunity to chat with the skipper of the Body Glove, who I assume was getting ready to go out and carve up a marine mammal or two. 

    Yesterday, I went swimming on Paul Allen's Reef, leaving the Redoubtable SKG ashore in search of

Yellow Spotted Coral Guard Crab  Kailua Kona Dec. 2016

things to place under the Christmas tree.  The water was not as cold as I feared it might be and was only moderately cloudy.  I didn't see a Christmas wrasse, but I had two modestly exciting sightings.  

    Just around the corner from Paul Allen's lagoon, I spotted a Yellowtail Filefish in about twelve feet of water.  I got the picture you see here from just below the surface, but each time I dove down, he would swim for cover.   This is only the second time I have seen aspricaudus near Kailua pier.

   On my way in, I examined a promising bit of cauliflower coral.  

  And what to my wondering eyes should appear, But a yellow spotted guard crab and a six pack of beer. 
With aluminum snaptops that popped with a click. 
If I drank all at once, I was sure to be sick.  

    Well, there was no beer, but isn't this exciting?   With the annihilation of the various species of Pocillopora coral following the high ocean temperatures of 2015, many of us have wondered if species highly dependent on this genus of coral are on their last legs.  I had wondered just the other day if I would ever see another guard crab.  This little fellow hunkered down at the base of the leaves of the cauliflower, so I was lucky to get the inferior picture you see here.  But what a treat, perhaps the best Christmas present of all.  

jeff 

The Christmas Fleet in Kona

Set Like a Weather Vane

     Late Sunday afternoon, which was surprisingly clear and warm, Sandra and I made our way down to the village.  The attraction for us was the promised sailing of the Christmas fleet, a flotilla of vessels bedecked in lights.  While Christmas fleets are a long standing fixture in the Pacific Northwest,  this is only the third year
that one has sailed in Kailua Kona.  We had missed the event previously, and,being of nautical bent, we were excited to see the boats.

    The show was due to start at 6 PM, so we arrived around 5:30.  This being the third Sunday of Advent, there was plenty going on in the village, which probably accounted for our difficulty in parking.  I, of course, assumed the congestion was due to the Christmas boat parade.  By the time we parked (in front of the Royal Kona Resort) and walked down Alii Drive and through the Kona Inn  to the waterfront, it was apparent that the Christmas fleet was not the draw that I had inferred from the multitude of cars. There were free concerts and the Stroll (the monthly street fair) to

account for the congestion.  In fact, its possible that more people were in the village going out to dinner than had come to watch the boats.  Out on the sea wall, with the sun setting in the west, there were relatively few of us nautical types and we found a choice seat without difficulty.  

    As we were treated to a glorious Hawaiian sunset,  the boats congregated off shore.  In this case, the fleet was comprised of five motor yachts, whose festive illuminated decorations were more apparent as it became darker.  Being a yachtsman (of sorts) myself, I was aware of the risk involved in this close grouping of boats in the twilight.  A few years ago, when Sandra and I owned the Renata Maria, we possessed a hand held VHF radio.  And on cold December night, we went to the Cap Sante Marina in Anacortes for the launching of the Christmas fleet.  Standing hard by the memorial to fisherman lost at sea, the wet winter wind

Santa Ahoy!  And he's headed straight for a swim buoy.

chilling us to the bone, we  listened to the skippers and the harbormaster as the Christmas fleet set sail.  Suffice it to say, the chatter was at least as interesting as the boats themselves.  There were electrical problems, mechanical problems, and the continuous concern that there might be a collision on the wintry waters. 

    Well the night here in Kailua was far from chilly.  But just as it became dark, two things happened: a small breeze came up from the south and a sailboat rounded the point north of the pier.  The boat wasn't huge, perhaps 40 feet,  LOA, and to make a fine display, the skipper had both his jib and mainsail set and sheeted in tight.  Thusly set, the sloop was more like a weather vane than a fine sailing machine.

    Soon enough it was dark enough for the boats to make a coordinated parade past the pier.  Not being a big fan of motor sports,  I assume that people go to car races in hopes that there will be a spectacular collision.  I'm somewhat ashamed to admit, that sitting on the sea wall in front of the Canoe Club (the seaside watering hole that was once Don Drysdale's, may the Big D rest in peace), I couldn't suppress that same secret desire. The boats were very close together, they had the coral reef and the pier to contend with, not to

mention the competing skippers.  And in the case of the sailboat cum weather vane, the pier represented a serious lee shore.  Even a balmy five knots of wind can push a boat rigged like that.

    Heaven only knows, I have had plenty of trouble piloting a sailboat in broad daylight, where everything else was stationary.  These guys were tooling around in the dark and I'm fairly certain that having a giant illuminated snowman on your foredeck does not improves your night vision.  But I must admit, these able bodied seaman was me betters.  Arrr.  They completed their circuits without a hitch and headed off into the night, providing us lubbers a fine photo opportunity.  My only regret was that the hand held VHF was sold along with the Renata Maria.

jeff

Merry Christmas from Kailua

Snorkeling in the Winter Storm

    For those of you who follow the blog from the lower 48, you'll probably find any complaints about the

Our Foster Grand Puppy Plays in the Snow

weather coming out of these Very Sandwich Islands to be especially ridiculous.  For the past week I have been getting missives from home in the Pacific Northwest containing pictures of snow and tales of near misses on icy roadways.  All I can say to you guys is stay warm and be safe.  And you know that if you ever need a break, there is a bed waiting for you in Holualoa Estates. 

    Regardless of my sundry friends and relatives in Washington, the weather here has been sufficiently cool and inclement so as to make snorkeling a bit less appealing.  I mean, who wants to go swimming when both the water and the ambient temperature are 75 degrees and its raining? 

    The fact is, we needed the rain and there has been lots to keep us occupied at this most wonderful time of the year.  Not only that, we have made it into the water a few times.

    On almost the last day of November, we made it to City of Refuge.  The water was cool and very clear and we saw a nice variety of fish.  Suffice it to say, if there had been something remarkable in the water, I would have written a blog tout suite.  As it was,we captured this Hawaiian dascyllus and agile chromis in the clear water for your pleasure. 

A pair of agile chromis, City of Refuge

Hawaiian Dascyllus Diving

   Halfway through our swim we encountered three large houndfish.  This is only the second time we have seen needlefish this big.  After our first encounter we discussed these beasts with our friends and decided that, short of encountering a tiger shark or similar, this may be the most dangerous fish on our reefs.  Hence, we have pictures of this trio, but, as they were taken at a safe distance,  they're not very good.

   Perhaps the best sighting that day was a fine adult Thompson's surgeonfish.  As we approached he headed for the depths, so a picture wasn't possible

    Back on shore, while dining sumptuously on ham sandwiches, our very own Kau'u oranges and chocolates left over from Halloween, we were able to reroute a young family from Long Island as they headed unwittingly for a treacherous entry.  If only there was someone watching over me to save me from a life of faux pas.  That, by the way, would be a full time job.

   Following that enjoyable swim at City of Refuge, nothing very exciting happened in the snorkeling department until yesterday, when we went to Ho'okena.  This was to be the last day this winter for our friend Anita to go snorkeling; she returns to Calgary tonight and if you think its cold in Seattle you need to talk to Anita.  She had been to Ho'okena before, but that time she was with her charming husband who is somewhat of a wet blanket when it comes to getting near the water.  So this would be her first time snorkeling at our favorite beach.  And what good luck for her that she had two excellent guides.

    No surprises, it was raining ever so gently when we picked her up at Ali'i Villas.  However, by the time we got to Ho'okena the rain had stopped and the sky was getting a bit brighter.  Not that you could see the sun, mind you, but we were grateful that the steep and winding road down the hill wasn't flooded.  

Potter's Angelfish, Ho'okena,  December 2016

    As we had hoped, the ocean was calm as could be.  After an easy entry into cool, clear water, we were treated to four foraging barred jacks.  Such is our facility with this location that we immediately garnered Potter's and Flame Angelfish and  gilded triggerfish.  How's that for usual suspects, ladies and germs?  We were unable to find garden eels, but we did find a couple bridled triggerfish, so our Canadian cousin got four life fish right away.  (Being wicked taskmasters, we had forced her at the point of a stick to review those species ala John Hoover as we drove south in the rain.)

     Swimming over by the pier, we spotted a large parrotfish cruising along the bottom 30 feet below.  I was able to dive and get the picture you see here.  Clearly a stareye parrotfish, this guy has a light yellow flank.  Hoover states that this pattern represents a supermale.  One has to wonder what Frederick Nietzsche would think of that.  Back at Kahalu'u, this is probably the most common species of parrotfish.  It is interesting, assuming that you care about things like this, that this has not always been the case.  Back in the day, say 20 years ago, I felt lucky to get a good look at a parrot with a distinct star eye.  Now, on an average swim at K Bay, I see three or 

Stareye Parrot Supermale. Thus spake John Hoover

four,  In the meantime, in the humble opinion of your self effacing  correspondent, both bullethead parrotfish and the beautiful  palenose parrotfish have become slightly less common.  They are in no danger of disappearing from Kahalu'u, but they don't appear in overwhelming numbers.

   Until this moment, I had assumed that these star eyed males in the bay were responsible for the myriad of cryptically colored juveniles that we see.  Could it be that sex among stareyes occurs in deeper water and it is these larger, paler supermales that are having all the fun?  If only there were enough ichthyologists, this could make for an engaging daytime soap.  But to quote the nubile Penny from the Big Bang Theory, "What's the likelihood of that?"

   And by the way, if any of you philosophy types can explain to me the significance of Nietzsche's superman, I will be eternally grateful.  I can't speak for the fish.  For that matter, what is the over riding philosophy of the fish?  Beware of worms dangling near piers?

   While pondering these philosophical conundrums we headed for the beach and this might have been the end of the outing, but Sandra was wearing her wet suit (so she, at least, was cozy warm) and Anita was loathe to end her Hawaiian snorkel, so we headed over to the small reef to the south of the beach.  This bit of coral has been deteriorating for ever, but there is still some reef there with a few good fish.  As we swam over the shallow reef, nothing struck us except a trio of fine medusa worms, until we came to the end.  There, suspended in about three

Best lookin' ringtail wrasse ever.

feet, was this brilliantly colored ringtail wrasse.  One occasionally sees a fine individual like this, but this fellow gets top marks for both handsome coloration and playing well with others.  Specifically, yours truly.  Eventually he tired of our close approaches and swam away, reverting to the classic gray on gray pattern in less than a minute.

    We thank you for hanging in to the end of our tale.  Now its time to get back to addressing Christmas cards, ordering Christmas presents on line and listening to the rain falling in the Kona highlands.

Feliz Navidad,
jeff

Be sure to hang a fish upon the highest bough.