Cowries and Cone Shells

     The high surf finally abated yesterday, leaving White Sands Beach a rocky enterprise.   Disappearing Sands, Magic Sands...Call them what you will, they are gone for the remainder of the winter.   With the surf down, it may be safer to swim if you can handle the rocky entrance and exit.

An Offering to a Mother

  For a variety of reasons, sloth being near the top of the list, we didn't go swimming yesterday.  But we did squeeze in a picnic at Pahoehoe Beach Park, right around the point from the disappearing sands.  It was lovely in the early afternoon, blue sky, cool breezes and a shady spot to share our lunch right by the sea.

    After dining, I left Sandra to work on her novel, the latest installment from Michael Connelly which we were both trying to finish in the week allotted a Hot Pick by the Hawaii State Library.  I walked to the north end of the park where there is a well perforated patch of lava, serving up a convoluted maze of tide pools.  It was in that spot many years ago where I saw arguably my best marine invertebrate, a Juliana's Sea Hare.  This was in the days before cell phone cameras and regrettably I did not get a picture.

Money Cowry 2017 Pahoehoe Beach Park

    Such was not the case yesterday.  Although I did not see a sea hare, I did see two noteworthy things.
 
    The first fell into the Margret Meade category; two women of a certain age were arranging a variety of vegetables on the rocks.  There were little bitty carrots,green beans, yellow peppers...it was quite colorful.  I asked if they were cooking the vegetables on the hot, salty rock and they replied that it was a ceremony in honor of a dead mother whose ashes had been scattered there.

   Très Hawaiian, no?  It got me to thinking about where I want my ashes deposited.   If I'm hoping for someplace with really good tropical fish watching,  perhaps I should head for the Great Reef in the Sky before all the coral is gone...which is to say, sooner rather than later.

    Having narrowly avoided putting my foot in the metaphysical soup, I carefully negotiated the bumpy lava reef, making my decrepit way to the north edge.  There, in the penultimate tidepool, was a money cowry. 

The Tarkus Posing as a Hunting Coneshell Snail

My records suggest that it has been more than two years since I have sighted that small, white and curiously molded cowry with the delicate gray and ecru saddle.  As you will see, there is a special place in my heart for this particular invertebrate.  Being careful not to fall into the tide pool, I took a picture from about ten feet away

The Money Cowry at Her Daytime Leisure

with my Galaxy S4, the results of which you see here.  Its not a fantastic picture, but on the other had I escaped the reef with dry feet and no new scars..Quite an accomplishment, if I do say so myself.  

   At any rate, we are perfectly justified in adding the money cowry to the 2017 list.

    My interest in the money cowry dates back 11 years.  At that time, Sandra and I were living in a tiny condo at Alii Villas 6 months of the year.  The proximity to the ocean allowed us to keep a ten gallon

The Money Cowry Prepares for her Nighttime Display

aquarium.  Every couple of days I would schlep two gallons of fresh ocean water up from the beach and then up two flights of stairs and on out to the aquarium on the lanai.  We mostly used the aquarium for keeping hermit crabs and at times we had as many as seven species.  We gave the most notable hermits names, like the Sheriff and the Mikado, and we fed them tiny bits of meat from a wooden skewer.  

   In addition to keeping the hermit crabs, we would at times capture molluscs and watch them in the aquarium for a day.  What looks like an ordinary shell during the day can evolve into a pretty amazing animal when the sun goes down.  In this manner, we saw at least two species of cone shells hunt, sliding around the tank on their amazingly large foot and extending a siphon from the leading edge.  These guys reminded me of the Tarkus; you could almost hear Emerson, Lake and Palmer playing in the background.  As you will no doubt recall, the Tarkus was dangerous and we were quite aware that concealed just beneath the siphon was a tiny poisonous spear.   Regrettably, we never had the opportunity to watch one of these cone shells make a kill.

   In addition to the cones, we collected a couple cowries.  As you undoubtedly know, cowries maintain their pristine, luminescent shell by extending a mantle at night that covers and cleans the shell.  In some cases, as we proved in the aquarium, this is a rather mundane coat.  In the case of the money cowry, however,  it is like the Fourth of July

The Amazing Fimbriated Mantle

and Disneyland rolled into one.  The mantle is white with an explosion of beautiful fimbria extending to cover  the entire animal.  

    Lucky for us, this was also the time when we purchased our first digital camera.  We took that camera to Sicily.  Thus, Sandra and I can call up pictures from that trip, amazing Greek ruins and the unsettling neighborhoods of Palermo, and marvel at how young we look.   

    Among the first digital pictures we took were those you see here of the money cowry extending her mantle after dark.   You will note that the accompanying photographs were taken out of the water.  Shooting through the aquarium glass at night was unsatisfactory.   Fortunately we were able trick the molluscs into pursuing their nightly behaviors out of the aquarium.

 Professor Demaintenon Out Collecting

    This was also the time when I began to realize how much there was to know about the invertebrates that live in the sea.  With this need in mind, I scouted the internet, evaluating the faculty at UH Hilo for a likely professor of invertebrate zoology.  In this way , I stumbled upon Marta Demaintenon, who was teaching invertebrate zoology to undergraduates in 2006.  There was a picture of Marta in the on line directory.  Suffice it to say, that at least in that picture, she was rather dishy.  One could only imagine a Howard Wallowitz type taking invertebrate zoology based solely on that photograph. 

     My first questions to Marta involved the identification of juvenile hermit crabs.  She was pretty helpful, but let it slip that her main interest was molluscs. In my next email, I attached the pictures of the money cowry in all her glory.  It is my humble opinion that a bouquet of roses would not have had a greater effect.  Marta thanked me for the pictures and has been a great help over the years.

   Returning to the park, I made it back to Sandra who was still engrossed with Michael Connelly.  We waited for a while, hoping for a whale, the absence of which in 2017 has everyone concerned.   I nabbed a picture of a sailboat that had wandered close to shore and we headed back up the hill

to Casa Ono.

jeff 

A Hebrew Cone Imitating the Tarkus

 

Surf's Up!

     Up until this weekend, we on the Kona coast had been enjoying a prolonged period of relatively calm surf conditions.  Sure, there were days when the surf might have been too high for us old folks

Shooting the Curl

to chance a lava rock entry at City of Refuge.  But as we get older and a teensy bit less agile, it doesn't take all that much to dissuade us from entering the ocean off the rocks.  Or, for that matter, even climbing on the rocks. 

    This relatively long surf free period has a lot to do with the island of Maui and the direction from which the surf is coming.  This is to say that the swell usually comes from the north and, as Maui lies just northwest of our enchanted isle, it absorbs that swell, sparing us from big surf conditions.  The more west that is in the swell, the more likely the Kona coast will receive high surf.  With all the buoys out in the ocean transmitting information to NOAA, these conditions can be predicted with some accuracy.

    On Friday I was cooling my heels for half an hour in the TV lobby of the King Kamehameha Hotel while my sweetie conducted her ladylike affairs elsewhere in our thriving metropolis.  I was at the King Kam as the library was closed for the Martin Luther King holiday.  You may say, "But Jeffrey, the MLK holiday will be celebrated tomorrow, Monday!"  Well, Monday is the libraries normal day

off and, although their phone announcement suggested they would take an extra day of rest on the following Tuesday, it seems like they took Friday as well.

      At any rate, there I was sitting in the back lobby of the King Kam and some surfer types, who apparently worked there, were congregating for a break and discussing up coming surf conditions at Pine Trees.  Pine Trees, perhaps the best surfing beach here in Kona, is located about halfway between the village and the airport.  In the past it has been accessed by a long 4 wheel drive road.  The off road stretch of the access has been cut in half by the addition of a beachfront luxury resort just south of the surfer's hangout.  You can now drive about half a mile to the coast on a very nice road and turn right through a hand operated barb wire gate to get on the sandy road to Pine Trees.  Or, if you don't have a 4 wheel drive vehicle, you could park there and walk about half a
mile along the sandy road, hard by the ocean.  If you attempt to turn left, the nice guard for the gazillionaires, kindly, but firmly, tells you that your kind ain't welcome in there. 

Perhaps this gazillionaire will take his board out in high surf!

    So another mile or so of beachfront lava has fallen to the developers and signs have sprouted up around Kailua imploring you to "Save Pine Trees!"  I must at this point add that there are no pine trees per se.  A few scraggly shrubs grow near the surfing beach and those were designated "pine trees" by some wave addled dudes in the hazy Hawaiian past. 

    Saturday morning after breakfast Sandra and I went down to White Sands Beach.  You may recall that a week or so ago, I went snorkeling at this beach on a calm day, remarking that it was extraordinary for the "magic" sand to still cover the beach in January.   Call it Magic Sands, White Sands or Disappearing Sands, I'm still amazed that I was able to go snorkeling there this late in the winter.

    Despite the big surf, there was still some sand on the beach.  But the waves were big and even at 9 AM there were a fair number of guys out there riding the waves on boogie boards.  Off to the left there were both surfers and boogie boarders riding the intermittent big waves.

   Those of you who live here know that the big waves come in sets.  Occasionally it seems like most of the waves are big, but most of the time a set of three large waves comes in.  When you are out in the break zone, with or without a board, your eye is constantly looking seaward, searching for the next big set.  In the hour or so we were at White Sands, there was a big set about every five minutes. 

   Here I'm talking about waves with ten foot faces or greater; the sort of waves that, if you don't know what you are doing might break your neck.  Seriously.  If you have a board, you ride the

A Wall of Water

waves.  If you don't, you can body surf them, which is probably safer but more difficult.  If you just want to play in them, you watch for the big waves and dive under them just before they break;  head all the way to the bottom and let the monster pass over you.  Obviously if you come up and see another monster, you are diving again right away.   Being at the bottom of a ten foot face just before it breaks is a remarkable experience.  The water looks like a skyscraper and, just like running with the bulls, there is no doubt that there is true danger in the air.

   Just being on the beach, you can feel the tension when a big set comes in.  The beach quiets down and when the big waves have expended themselves, your hear a directed chatter, people looking for their friends and loved ones out in the foamy flat water.

    I used to play in such waves at this beach, but that avenue of risk taking came to an end about ten years ago.  I attempted to enter the water on such a day at White Sands and the lifeguard talked me

Looking Seaward, White Sands Beach

out of it.  He didn't like the cut of my jib and no amount of disagreement on my part could persuade him.  I could go in, he said, but when I came out...if I came out...the police would be waiting.  Boy was I mad, but that day spelled the end to me diving under the big waves.  In the words of the immortal Kurt Vonnegut, "So it goes."

      Yesterday was just like that, sunny, a light breeze and monster sets.  There was a girl sitting near us who had arrived with a guy who was out in the waves.  At one point I asked if her boyfriend was still out there and she corrected me, saying it was her brother.  Looking at her more carefully, I decided that she was probably younger than I had thought, maybe sixteen or seventeen.

    A bit later, a couple kids went by.  They were in their early teens, carrying boards, and one of them had red ointment smeared on both cheeks.  I asked him if he was having fun and he allowed as how he had been bounced pretty hard a couple times.

   A few minutes later I saw the group gathering to go back.  I got over to the wall in time to get them to pose for a picture.  I then took a series of shots as they made their way down the lava and entered the foamy water.

On the Wall

    Sandra was watching the same group from up the beach and nabbed the picture you see here.  I'm calling it Jumping In and I believe we have to give the Redoubtable SKG credit for getting the shot.  
  
    As I made my way back to the chairs, I ran across an older guy and a couple younger fellows with a remarkable dog.  He had a huge head and a smooth bluish gray coat.  I asked about the pooch and they said he was a cross between a blue mastiff and a a blue point pit bull.  Sometimes I'm a little
leery of asking for pictures among the folks, and I didn't in this case.  That's somebody else's blue mastiff you see pictured here.  We talked about what a nice dog he was and while we did, he rolled over on his side and fell asleep.  The older guy said that all that dog was doing now was breeding.  I supposed that the alternative was to be staked out in front of the house, or whatever, on guard duty.  Regardless,  the implication being that he liked breeding a lot.

A Blue Mastiff

    I turned to go, but I could not resist, so I returned to tell them the story of how the Indian boy got
his name.  The old guy smiled indulgently but the young man who was the owner of the magnificent beast issued a great belly laugh.

 
  I got back to Sandra and she showed me the wonderful picture she had captured.  And then it was time to go.  As I knocked the sand from the feet of my beach chair, the sixteen year old girl lit a cigarette.  As we turned to walk back to the car, I spied the older guy with the dog rolling a joint.  And that's the way we roll at White Sands Beach.

jeff

Jumping In         Photo by the Redoubtable SKG

One morning an Indian boy asked his father how he got his name.
The father replied, "My son, in our tribe, the morning a child is born, the father walks out of his tepee and the first thing he sees becomes the name of his newborn child.
"That is why your sister is known as Beautiful Sunrise.  And it is why your brother is called Running Deer.
"And that, my son, is why you are known as Two Dogs Fucking."

   

And the List Goes On

     Starting a new list really is fun and it provides an unmistakable view of what one is seeing.  And not seeing.  Its so easy to get out of the water after a mediocre bout of fish watching and say, "Well, it was just the usual suspects."  According to the new list, what we are willing to accept as the usual suspects has

The Hawaiian Answer to Water Aerobics

changed over the years.  In a couple instances a relatively rare fish has become more common, but in many instances fish and critters that were common have become less so.

      On Tuesday morning around 10 AM, Sandra and I made it down to the beach in front of the King Kamehmeha Hotel.  This is truly a very pretty little beach and, although it is right out the back door of the hotel , it belongs to the  people, so everyone is welcome.  As we changed into our swim shirts and neoprene, we were entertained by a fellow, either a Hawaiian or a reasonable facsimile, playing his ukulele while standing waist deep in the protected Inner Harbour.  He was leading a group of ladies and one man (with seemingly no pride what so ever) in very mild hula moves.  As he played, he would instruct his brood to wave their arms

Waves Crashing on Paul Allen's Reef

to the left and then, a few moments later, to wave their arms to the right.  Not exactly water aerobics,  which for those of us who exercise as little as possible, is not to be scoffed at.  But they were having fun, enjoying the lovely morning and adding to a peaceful ambiance at the pretty King Kamehameha's beach.

    As we expected, the water in the Inner Harbour (being cooled by water percolating down from the mountain) was frigid, but became a little warmer as we passed the small jetty by the heiau.  Out in the bay, the water was a bit less cold, but far from what might call warm.  Swimming out to Paul Allen's lagoon, we nabbed the first two trumpetfish of 2017.  Vainly looking for the five stripe wrasse and Potter's angelfish, we at least got a look at the white spotted surgeon playing as the surf crashed against the lava shelf.

    Look carefully at the accompanying picture and you will see the surgeon right in the middle.  While you're in the process, count the number of living corals.  I count none.  The white spotted surgeon, like many of its ilk, is a herbivore.  It eats algae growing on rocks and dead coral in the surge zone.   Heaven only knows if there is some other aspect of this species biology that relates to Pocillipora corals, but at least from the standpoint of the adult diet, we should have this handsome acrobat of the surf for the forseeable future.

Mr. Whitley wishes You a Happy New Year!

  On the way back in we recorded the first reasonably good fish for the year, a Whitley's trunkfish, puttered around the coral debris in about ten feet.   My two son's found Whitley's on their own in the Inner Harbour about 25 years ago.  For about half an hour, they were up a fish on me.  But being good guides, they soon rectified this deplorable situation.

   There were no eels to be seen on this outing.  And the goldrimmed surgeon was not there either, although we suspect that we will find it on the PAR within a month.  There have been times in the past when this stretch of deeper water was a poor man's City of Refuge.  Things like three spot chromis, agile chromis and Thompson's butterflyfish have schooled there, dining on the up welling plankton.  As the year progresses, we will let you know if any of these fish make an appearance.

    Having completed our post-snorkel ablutions, while we were in the process of getting our things ready to depart, a man emerged from the beach boy hut, tooting what might have been a bosun's whistle.  I thought he was alerting two swimmers that they were returning to the beach via the channel reserved for the parasailing
boats, among other propellered craft.  But no, he didn't give a fig for their fate; those schmucks were on their own.  Rather, there was a careless tourist on the beach across the small bay, once the private beach of King Kamehameha the first and his kahunas. Eventually the man with the whistle was able to get the trespasser's attention and Hawaiian sanctimony was restored.  Barely.
 
    Yesterday Sandra kindly dropped me off for a quick swim at the pier while she attended to business mauka.  It was Wednesday, so the Carnival Lines was there with the attendant circus:  lots of curiously clad tourists, the older guy in the straw cowboy hat encouraging them to go to Kahalu'u on the Snorkelbus, and the mini-buses taking tourists to K-mart, Walmart and the International Marketplace, which is somewhat less grand than you might expect. The sound track to this confusion was provided by the small band that sits under the blue canopy, which later in the day provides shade for the sea going rats as they await their turn to board the tenders taking them back to the mother ship.

   There is  a swell coming in, so the water was quite cloudy, in addition to being quite cold.  That I had forgotten my neoprene vest, didn't help matters, but its hard to complain about 74 degree water when the

Here a Teardrop, There a Teardrop, Everywhere a Pair of Teardrops

ones you love are shoveling two feet of snow so they can get the car out of the garage.

    So to the gentle rhythms of the three piece Hawaiian jazz band, I set out into the bay.  Immediately, I saw a pair of ornate Butterflyfish and a Teardrop.  As I made my way through the cold, cloudy water, I mused that the ornate butterflyfish, probably by dint of not reducing in numbers at the same rate as other butterflyfish  has become our most commonly encountered member of the genus Chaetodon.  If you remember Robert McNamara and the War of Attrition, its possible that the same principles apply. The Milletseed, who easily held this title twenty years ago,  is hardly ever tallied by even the most vigilant snorkeler. Raccoons and Pebbled are around, but the ornate butterflyfish gets my vote for most frequently encountered by a snorkeler in a supporting role.  Not the worse case scenario, as, with those striking orange bars against pastel blue, it is a remarkably handsome fish.  Around the island you can pick up ashtrays, ornaments and wall plaques all modeled after the ornate.  But I really miss those clouds of milletseeds.   Any bets as to when or if we will add milletseed to the 2017 list?

The 2017 Milletseed is opening at 7 to 1 in Las Vegas

   And then we have the teardrop.  This used to be a moderately uncommon fish; thirty years ago when I would come with my family we were pleased if we added it to a week's list.  Now, one can pretty much expect to see this lovely yellow and white fish with the distinctive teardrop every time you don  mask and fins.  I guess life could be worse. 

    Very close in, through the murk, I spied a white saddle goatfish.  This is a very rare goatfish, perhaps because he is deemed the most palatable.  Or perhaps because we are on the edge of his range.  The white sadlle is second in scarcity, among the goats one might expect to see snorkeling in Kona, only to the band tailed goatfish. I have seen the latter only once in Hawaii.  Our friends Peter and Marla say that the

BTG is found regularly at Hapuna Beach, which is primarily known for its body surfing.  If things flatten out,

When I first saw him, he was out in the open.

we should impose upon them to guide us to this caudally striped treasure.

    The fish at hand on this day was harboring between two coral heads and when I addressed him with my trusty camera he sidled under one of the corals.  What you see here is my best effort to hold the camera under the coral and take his picture.  I'm sure you will agree that I captured just enough of the fish to confirm the identification.  On the other hand, as it is a perfectly lousy picture.  I am including a delicious picture of this uncommon fish taken in April of 2013.

    I saw nothing of merit on the rest of my cloudy loop around the bay.  As I returned near shore, I spotted a cute little immature threadfin flitting among the coral rubble.  I dove a couple times, attempting to take his picture.  As I surfaced the third time, I heard a whistle, similar to the one from the previous day.  Looking around , I realized that I was now five feet on the wrong side of the swim line and only thirty feet from a tender waiting to take the sea going rats back for their brunch buffet.  Overwhelmed with chagrin,

 I waved to the guard with the piercing, shrill whistle 
 And swam 'neath the line, like the down off a thistle.

White Saddle Goatfish,  Kailua Kona Pier, April 2013.

    So you see, with sufficient inattention to details, you too can be part of the circus.

   jeff.

A New Year and a New List

        The new year having arrived, it seemed like the right thing to do was to get started on a new Kona Fishlist for 2017.  The list we leave behind was compiled over two years, 2015 and 2016 and

A New Fishlist Is On the Way

numbered 168 species.  Last year's highlights included the cusk eel, which Bob Hillis found for us at night just outside Paul Allen's Lagoon and the disappearing wrasse, which I found just a month or so ago at Ho'okena.  It must be noted that two fish have been deleted from the list, the ewa blenny and the curious wormfish, which have been relegated to the my bad hall of shame.  Live and learn.  That's the motto here at the Kona Beach Blog.

      But all that is behind us now, the new fishlist being delivered by the FedEx Stork  at the dawn of the  benighted year of Trump.  Politics aside, you can tell that it's a Hawaiian baby, as even in transit he has a nice tan, as it were.   In as much as he's coming to Hawaii, there's a 20% chance he's Filipino, more if you take his congenital tan into consideration..  If so, just imagine how pleased he'll be when he grows up to discover that our curious state has a paid holiday just for him. 

Should We Go Snorkeling or Ice Fishing?

Obviously, if one wants to create a fish list, he or she has to get wet.  Dutifully, Sandra and I went swimming at Kahalu'u on January 2nd in the early morning and on January 4th a bit later in the day.  On both occasions the water was clear and truly cold.  It seemed like whoever was responsible for keeping K Bay warm had neglected to pay the heating bill.  There were times when it felt like we were swimming into a refrigerator.

Go Penguins

    Its not surprising that the water got cold, as the daytime temperatures have been so cool that we have been wearing all our clothes through the afternoon, eschewing the ceiling fans and actually heating the water for showers.  Most un-Hawaiian.   You should appreciate the photo of your humble correspondent and his lovely bride on the deck at K Bay on January 2nd.  That is not a staged photo; we actually wore all those clothes to the beach and we put them all back on when we were done swimming.

    I'm also including a picture of Pablo the Penguin,the mascot for Sandra's fantasy baseball team, the Kona Shave Ice.  Its a doughty little franchise that calls the small stadium out at the old airport home.  And the Penguins totally brought home the bacon in 2015.   There have been times this week when we actually wished we had Pablo's stove up at Casa Ono. 

Oval Butterfly Found Wandering at K Bay, New Years Day 2017

     The list after the first two days was a paltry 38 fish.  Missing were both longnose butterflyfish, lined butterflyfish and trumpetfish.  And about 130 more.  The only really good fish we found on those two outings was a solitary oval butterflyfish.  Not an outstanding fish for the list as a whole, but possibly the first one I have ever seen at Kahalu'u.  Do you think he got turned around at a party on New Years Eve?

     All the time I was swimming through the cold, clear water at Kashalu'u and not seeing a great variety of fish species, I was thinking, "Just wait till I get to the pier.  Then I'll fill in the list."  Well, this afternoon I made it to the pier.  Sandra dropped me off at the King Kam Hotel and then headed up to Macy's.  She got to shop and I got to freeze.

A nice colony of sponges is now thriving opposite the third swim buoy.

    The fish watching at the pier was a bit better.  I nabbed both species of longnose butterfly, but still did not see a lined. In fact, there are five butterflyfish that we should add to the list in the next month.  I did see a single juvenile orangebar surgeon.  Do you ever wonder how an egg seems to hatch about four months later than it should have.  Do we call that roe-tardation?

The Poster Child For Roe-tardation.  Send contributions to the Beach Blog

     Leaving that pun to fend for itself, I'll mention that I saw a Mu, the grandoculus himself, way out on the reef, plenty of black surgeons and palanis.  An undulated moray swimming free in its signature style is the only eel on the list so far.  If you took a snapshot, you might say that this moray is channeling the sidewinder rattlesnake.   Surprisingly, there were no lei or lagoon triggerfish and no trumpetfish.  We all know that these guys will come soon enough, but isn't it curious what you don't have at the end of three days of listing.  At a mere 68 this list has lots of room to grow.  And in the spirit of the employees at the Kailua Kona branch of the Hawaii State Library, lots of state holidays to take advantage of

    We hope to see you out on the reef in these halcyon days of the new year.  But be warned: if you come swimming in Kona in January a bit of neoprene won't go amiss.

jeff