The Sand is back at Kahalu'u!

Patrick Lange on Alii Drive  8:01.40  Ausgezeichnet!

    There has once again been an unforgivable hiatus between blogs, but not without good reason.  Sandra and I both took part in the Ironman, as volunteers and spectators not as actual competitors.  On the other hand, procuring a parking spot at Lanihau center in the shade by Infamous Footwear constituted a competitive victory of sorts and enabled us to get down to the finish line on that hot afternoon to watch the first  man break the tape in course record time.  Just a shade over 8 hours, if you can imagine.  While we  were standing there in a patch of blessed shade, I made friends with a a pleasant lady in a little black dress.  my new friend lives part time in Miami and, when not dodging tropical depressions,  in the Big Apple.  She was waiting for her husband, who had just finished the bicycle leg of the race and was now out on the course.  She had a few more hours to wait, but I suppose she was glad that she was standing there in the shade as opposed to running out on the Queen Ka'ahumanu Highway.

    To further occupy our time, this week I presented a course at the library.  I believe it was titled,  "How to make paper mache fish in your copious free time."  Obviously I didn't have any free time or I would have got my lazy you know what down to the beach and whipped up a blog.  In truth, many hours of preparation went into that lecture and the community response was remarkably

Professor Hill demonstrates the technique.

underwhelming.  By my calculations, if you take the number of hours I put in to preparing models representing the various stages of paper mache fish manufacture (the better to teach my eager students) and divided it by the total number of students themselves, you will come up with a number greater than 2.  In the text I have left over from Statistics 101, this is known as the Apathy Coefficient.

   We will try again in Waimea in February with a whole new set of models.  With any luck, one or two will be wearing little black dresses.

    In case you haven't noticed, that sort of porcine remark is in vogue under the current regime.  Me and the Donald, were like two pigs in a pen.

   Last, but not least, just a couple days ago Sandra and I went to big, bad Honolulu where she had a cataract removed and an intraocular lens placed in its stead.   This afforded us a night in the luxurious Kaiser Permanente Suite on the 27th floor of the Ala Moana Hotel.  As the picture I took out the

Glittering Honolulu as seen from the Kaiser Permanente Suite

window at night is playing to rave reviews on Sandra's facebook page, I thought I would let you enjoy it as well.  By the way, my beaming bride is seeing much better, thank you.  This should come in handy in the future for watching fish.  Among other things.

     However, the recent eye surgery makes her a non-swimmer for a couple of weeks.  So today, when we finally got back to the beach, Sandra was left in the shade of the shelter, perched daintily atop a picnic table, while I braved the tranquil waters of K Bay.

     The first thing I noticed, and this may be the only important thing related into today's blog, is that the sand channel now extends all the way from the beach into the bay.  I cannot recall the last time

Miniature Flounder Awaits the Tartar Sauce and Chips

 that this was the case, but my guess is that its been greater than two years.  Until the first big winter storm (God willing this will be at least two months hence ...rhymes with Mike Pence) the would be bather, his or her feet in particular, can enjoy this replenished carpet of happiness.

    As I strode bravely down the aforementioned sandy walkway, I encountered a lady of a certain age, probably not too different from my age, who was walking toward the shore and holding an Olympus camera just like mine.  As I watched, she bent over and stuck her camera in the water.  I asked he what the hell she thought she was doing (not really)

Freckle Face Hawkfish juv.  Kahalu'u October 2017

and she told me that there was a miniature flounder at her feet.  She had spotted the little dear when it moved.  She took her picture and stepped away and I attempted to duplicate her effort.  Suffice it to say, it was  a bit odd holding the camera under the water, operating it from above.  Anyway, the focus isn't perfect but you can tell by comparing the fish to the grains of salt and pepper sand that this was indeed a very small flounder.  Were you to catch it, you would probably need a laser to cut the potatoes and then you could have fish and chips for General Tom Thumb. 

    Out in the bay there were plenty of people but not a huge number of fish.  I did find a juvenile freckle faced hawkfish, he of the chartreuse beanie. 

    On the way in I had a delightful encounter with a small stripe belly puffer.  Usually stripe belly puffers don't like to have their picture taken, but this little fella came over and smiled for the camera.  How accommodating. 

   What I didn't see was a single rockmover.  In the cellars of Moet Chandon the guys who turn those bottles one quarter turn each day are called riddlers.  Here at Kahalu'u the riddling is done by

rockmovers, who are continually turning over the stones.  They turn the stones as there are relatively few bottles of maturing champagne on the floor of the bay.  And in the same vein as the scorpion crossing the stream, its in their nature.  I'm hopeful that the rockmovers will return.  In the meantime, try not to be too busy to go snorkeling. 

jeff

   

Underwear Run 2017

   Each year on the Thursday before the big race, the Ironman sponsors an underwear run.   There is a charity aspect to the run and anyone can participate, although it is best if you are able to jog a hundred yards or so.  A few large groups come with matching underwear and hats, while many competitors don original costumes.  This year Sandra and I made it down for this unusual event, which kicks off at 7:30 in the morning, the idea being that after the underwear run the athletes have the whole rest of the day to train.   Here are some of the better pictures.

Your humble correspondent embraces a pair of Wonder Women

The Bolshoi never had it so good.

Presumably a Scotsman

Nuns on the run

Just in case you wondered what Santa looks like under his big red suit.

Swimming with the Ironmen on Paul Allen's Reef

Last Friday we got up bright and early and parked down by the pier around 8 AM.  As the competitors for the I

The King Kam Hotel.  Where are the Ironmen?

ronman had arrived and were training for the big event, parking was at a premium.This day Sandra and I were lucky to be joined by Kim Davison from the Methodist Church.  It is one of my pleasures living in Kailua to introduce friends, who have somehow avoided the event, to the joy of the Ironman. Hanging with the competitors at the pier has proven to be one of the most enjoyable for me, and we hoped Kim would  have a memorable time.

   As the Ironman side of the pier was full of ironmen churning back and forth in an expanded swim lane, the better to accommodate the multitude, we chose to swim on the Paul Allen side in front of the King Kamehameha Hotel.  The three of us donned our swim gear and left our clothes in front of the beach boy shack.

    The beach and the lagoon were almost empty, in contrast to the rest of the village and especially the other side of the pier where the competitors were training.  As we headed into the water, which Sandra and Kim thought was cold (in fact I put it at 82 degrees) we encountered a handsome young man and his six year old daughter who was frolicking by his side.  I asked if he was a competitor and he allowed that he was.  And he had a story that he was eager to relate.

   Johann was from Switzerland and he was 40 years old.  He  had competed in Kona 16 years ago, as a relatively young man. .  On his 40th birthday his wife had asked him if he thought he could qualify for the Ironman again.  I suppose she wanted a family trip to the Big Island.  Or perhaps she wanted Johann to buff up.  Regardless, he whipped himself into shape and, he being now able to check a new box on the entry form, qualified for the 40 and over age group.  As he finished relating his story, his daughter shrieked merrily, tossing her flaxen locks she grabbed his hand and he spoke to her in some inscrutable tongue.  Swiss-German, I presume, but have you noticed how foreign languages never

Two Flowery Flounders.  Which one gets to be on top?

sound the same as they do on the instructional tapes when the natives are speaking to one another, or in this case their children?

    Well our mini-interview was over and it was time to swim.  Just inside the small jetty by the heiau Kim spotted a whitemouth moray hunting.  We watched the eel for a minute or two and as we did he swam over a pair of flowery flounders, lying on the bottom in about five feet.  Kim had never seen a flounder before and enjoyed the hell out of it.  Although one would suspect that she has enjoyed flounder with some lemon and tartar sauce, she had never considered the curious physiology of this curious group of fishes.  Among other things, she wondered how the flounder avoided sucking sand into the breathing apparatus on the side that faced the bottom.  What a twisted world the flounder inhabits, I explained, with all the important structures, eyes, gills, cat and wives, rotated to the top.  How many flounders were going to Saint Ives?   Well there were two here, which is sort of unusual.  I wondered if they were getting in the mood to make the two headed flatfish.  Even my photographic efforts couldn't interfere with true love, fishy style, so I wouldn't be a bit surprised.

   Out in the bay we were lucky to spot a yellowtail filefish.  he wasn't terribly deep, perhaps eight feet, and he was more cooperative than most.  I had not seen one on the Paul Allen side before two

Yellowtail Filefish, Kailua Kona Pier, October 2017

years ago and this one was closer to the pier than any previously.  Perhaps they are getting more common.

   Out on the PAR we admired the dead coral, which is neither better or worse.  This being the end of summer, we should be thankful that no major bleaching occurred in 2017.  The main reason to admire the dead coral flat here, about 15 to 20 yards from shore, is the opportunity to look for Potter's Angelfish.  We had prepared our guest to look for this blue tailed beauty, but none were found.  We all spotted four voracious crown of thorns starfish, though.  This was a new species for our guest and she was quite pleased.  Knowing that the crown of thorns eats coral polyps, and that this particular reef has so few polyps to spare, we were less than overjoyed.

Yellowtail Surgeons and Kim Davison Brave the Surf

   My last treat for Kim was a look at the spotted surgeon.  I swam over by the steep lave reef that forms Paul Allen's beach and sure enough, there were three of these dinner plate-sized surgeons cavorting in the surf as it exploded against the lava wall.  My friend Kimmy is not a wuss, but she was a bit
cowed, intimidated if you will, by the surf crashing against the rock. It took a bit of persuasion.  Finally, though, we coaxed her within five feet of the reef and she was able to see the spotted surgeons as they swam though the surging bubbles.  Brave Kim, happy fish.

    Sandra had seen enough spotted surgeons, and has tasted the vengeance of the lava and the waves, so she watched this introduction to the surf on the reef experience from a safe distance.  Not that there was ever any danger.  Just keep telling yourself that and things will be fine.

   On the way in, we spotted a reef lizardfish reclining on the rip rap on the outer part of the jetty.  Usually not a big deal, but it was Kim's first lizardfish.  

All he needs is a mask and snorkel

   Back on the beach we headed to the showers, where we met a petit Ironlady from the Phillipines.  I was able to tell her about the 19% of my felow Hawaiians that are Filipino, the state holiday in their honor and invite her to go shopping at Walmart where she can speak Tagalog with her countrymen.
  For here in Kona we are all one big happy family and we embrace our friends the Ironpeople from all around the world.

  Maybe if Donald Trump and Little Rocketman came to the Ironman, we could all live in peace.  Perhaps I could  persuade them to look at the spotted surgeons on a particularly rough day.  Now your talkin'.

jeff

Welcome to the Ironman

The Ironman cometh and He's Bringing a Kawa Kawa

    I suppose I need to apologize for the hiatus in blogs.  We were in Portland visiting children and grandchildren, one more slippery than the next.  For the first week we suffered with the smoke blown in from

Playing at the Kailua Kona Library through October.

nearby forest fires, then a few days of rain cleared things out and it was gorgeous.  Blue skies and 75 dry degrees.  We've been back in Kailua for five days, getting the paper mache fish exhibit up on Saturday at the local library.  To quote America's greatest impresario, Ed Sullivan, "Its a really big shooo."  If you have a chance, drop by the library and take a gander.

    As the title suggests, Ironman season is upon us.  One might have thought that our first inkling would have come at the beach, freshly littered with hard bodied Ironman competitors.  But no!  Yesterday at church, of all the god forsaken places, we saw our first ironman of the season in the person of Michelle Vesterby.   With a name like Michelle you might have assumed she was French, like a plate of petit fours, or possibly an eclair.  But no, she's a Danish.

    That Michelle should have showed up two years running, as it were, to the Lutheran church is not entirely

Don't give me that freshman philosophy crap.

a surprise.  The second most famous Lutheran (after M.L. himself) is Soren Kierkegard, who is, or was, Danish.   Kierkegaard invented existentialism, the philosophy that states you should live life in such a way that it provides the most meaning.

    Along these lines, I am reminded of Professor Clifford Skridlow, as portrayed by Dan Akroyd,  in Dr. Detroit.  When Smooth Walker has rendered him non compis mentis, Clifford says, "Don't give me any of that freshman philosophy crap.  I'm talking existential being."  to which Karen Blittstein replies, "Of course you are, gorgeous."  Fran Drescher never looked

Michelle Vesterby looking good as she wins Copenhagen

better than when she played Karen.  Too bad for Soren Kierkegard that he never got to hook up with Fran...that would have given his life meaning!

    During the church service, Michelle was introduced as a guest and afterwards my lovely wife cornered her while I went off to browse on good old American pastries, brownies and snicker doodles.  Enough to make ya say, "Hallelujah."  Having brought my blood sugar up above 150, I joined the group where Sandra told me, "Not only is Michelle an Ironman, but she's a pro."   Out of the thousands that compete, only the elite few, less than 200, are professionals.  If you're  not from Europe, it may be hard to imagine  professional triathletes.  Its a much bigger sport outside the USA.

Neither petit fours or an eclair, Michelle is a Danish

    Trying to join the conversation, I asked if she was hoping to finish around five o'clock.  No, she replied, she hoped to finish before three.  We have made it to the finish line to watch the winners come in the last three years.  This happens around 2:30.   Michelle told us that she is hoping for the podium...one of the top three women finishers.  Hoo ahh.   She finished sixth two years ago and won the Copenhagen Ironman a couple months ago.  Note in the picture that, holding the winning banner, she doesn't look especially bushed. And the Copenhagen Ironman includes a swim in the Baltic Sea!  Of all the things that amaze me about the race, the fact that most of the finishers are not exhausted is the top.  The other thing that amazes me has to do with the condition of the bicycle seats following the ride.  As this is a family forum, I will refrain from being more specific.

    At this point we will bid Michelle goodbye and head on down to the pier this morning where a variety of super fit young, and not so young, men ad women are prepping for the race.  Sandra and I reminisced a bit.  Ironman season will do that to you.  I remembered that a few years ago, just before the Ironman, we saw the pelagic jelly harboring the juvenile unicorn filefish.  She recalled that last year my knee

Big Bad Rainbow Runner

was messed up and we scored a disabled pass for parking.  Ahh, the memories.

   Today the water was cool and clear, perfect for a quick two mile swim or a leisurely three hundred yard snorkel.  We swam out on the far side of the swim line, the better to avoid the hard charging Ironman swimmers.  Once past the last swim buoy, now a large yellow pyramid, the better for the Ironmen to find their way back to the beach, we encountered the bait ball.  And almost immediately we were joined by a huge rainbow runner.

   You may recall that for many years I thought opelu were rainbow runners, they are both blue jacks with yellow tails, after all.  Bob Hillis gently corrected this misapprehension a few years ago, kindly pointing out that many people make that mistake.  Which may or may not be true.  Most people, to say the least, probably couldn't care less.  Fisherman, who have a certain pecuniary, as well as culinary, interest, probably know the difference.  My guess is that they probably

Let's Eat!

don't catch many rainbow runners, which are not all that common (now that I know what I am looking at) inshore.

   Prior to today I don't think I have seen a rainbow runner bigger than 16 inches.  Sandra thought this guy was pushing three feet.  I'd settle for 30 inches.  (the  book says they achieve four feet!)  At any rate, he was a truly big, powerful predator of a fish.  He didn't flee when I chased him for a picture and we were able to watch him make a couple dives at the huge congregation of scad.

   At this point, we were super pleased with ourselves.  But only a few minutes later I saw three large jacks, or so I thought, scream by the baitball heading out to sea.  They were silvery, two to three feet in length and had a curious pattern of with and black wavy lines over the back third of the saddle.  I knew this was something I had never seen before. I looked up, ready to ask Sandra if she had seen them, but she was ten feet away.

   We circled the large bait ball, scoring a Christmas wrasse and a nice cooperative swimming turtle, ending up twenty yards out from the yellow plastic pyramid.  We decided to swim back on the inside of the bait ball, which was lucky because those fish returned, striking at the scads as they screamed by.  This time Sandra

Wavy-back Skipjack aka the Kawa Kawa

got a look.

   At home we looked at Randall and Hoover with no luck, except to find out that there are over 20 species of jacks in Hawaii.  Only six or so are pictured.  In a moment of inspiration I pulled out my ancient copy of Dr. Tinker's book, Fishes of Hawaii.  Published in 1978, it has only a few color pictures, but its got lots more fish, some black and white photos and some drawings.   We struck pay dirt on page 325, with a primitive black and white photo of our fish.  Tinker called it the wavy-back skipjack or the kawa kawa.  It is still known as the kawa kawa, now also known as the mackerel tuna.  We thought these three fish were about two feet in length, although Dr. Tinker says that these fish are never too far from shore, but occur primarily in open water.  Most caught kawa kawa, he goes on, are around twenty inches.   I thank the Nervous Fly Fishing site for the picture.  You can see the ornamental black stripes.  Also note that the lucky angler is holding a fish more like two feet in length.  The ones we saw were big and fast.  Woosh!

   Ashore we met some Ironmen who were finishing up their water training for today.  We look forward to seeing more of them in the following two weeks.  And hopefully we'll see Michelle in church.

Gramps teaches Colsen itsy-bitsy spider.