A Bluestripe Butterfly in Kailua

    Our period of relatively calm seas coincided with clear weather and it lasted for roughly three brief days.  Being neither the world's greatest oceanographer nor a meteorologist of note, I can only speculate that this was total coincidence; the winds that blew the volcanic emissions away from the

The kids on Oahu call our favorite meteorologist  Lie (as opposed to Guy) Hagi

leeward side of our beloved island had nothing to do with the paucity of surf.  Or maybe it did.  How should I know?

   Yesterday morning was still clear with blue skies, but the swell was increasing.  These conditions were not enough to entice my sweetie into the local waters and so she kindly dropped me off for a quick dip at the pier while she attended to the purchase of papayas, Pepsi and Pappy Van Winkles.  My beloved is, indeed, an all around great girl.

   Kailua Bay was cloudier than I had hoped.  But there was enough visibility, as I swam out to the fourth swim buoy, to see that there was nothing special to look at.  Nor were the conditions very good for trying out the new camera. I had been given a pep talk by our photographic editor and he asked me to bracket some photos.  Was the silt over exposed or under exposed?  Who cares?

Bluestripe Butterflyfish   Kailua Bay  June 2018

   Not until I made it back to where I had started did I see something worth writing about.  There, in the shallows right by the entry, was a handsome bluestripe butterflyfish.  This fish is rare enough down south in Kailua that the people at Honu Divers were surprised when I stated that I saw one at least once a year on the Ironman side of the pier.  He was tooling around the rocks in four feet of fairly clear water.  From a photographic standpoint, I had really caught a break.   Here you see a couple acceptable pictures of this uncommon fish making his annual homage to King Kamehameha's favorite beach. 

   A note to the photo editor: the TG5 has four underwater settings, each of which must be subjected to the bracketing test.  On this day, employing the "underwater snapshot" setting, the camera's

Bluestripe Butterfly chillin' by the pier.

metering was spot on.  Adding or subtracting light made the pictures worse.  But it was a good exercise and it did provide the impetus to get my lazy bones into the water. 

   If you are living here in Kailua and need the bluestripe butterfly for your list, it is likely that he will stick in the shallows by the pier for a few days.  The bad news is, if you live in Kailua, you know that giant breakers are today pounding the coast and the skies are once again an angry, volcanic gray.  But it could be worse, it could be raining.  (Marty Feldman as Igor in Young Frankenstein.)

Keep smiling,
jeff



  

K Bay and Ho'okena with the TG5

    This week we have been in the getting to know you phase with the TG5, the newer offering from Olympus that has replaced our TG3 following its mysterious death.

Bullethead Blenny, Kahalu' June 2018

   For a first outing, we went down to Kahalu'u, a short ten minute drive down the hill.  We were just entering a phase of calm water and the we chose a time that corresponded to a fairly high low tide,  0.6 feet, so getting in wasn't problematic.  Curiously at 9 AM on a Friday morning there was already a group setting up for a party; caution tape fenced off the shelter at this relatively early hour.  The people who manage this popular shelter have chosen to ignore the fact that a large chunk of the pad was taken out by a tsunami two years ago.  When a party fences off the kiosk, it obligates snorkelers to walk way around.  Somebody I know and love wants to write a letter about this miscarriage of justice.

   The water that day was calm, as we expected, and amazingly clear.  A perfect day to take

Freckle Faced Hawkfish, Kahalu'u June 2018

underwater pictures.  Unfortunately, the fish and invertebrates didn't get the notice.   As we entered there was a nine inch flounder.  So perfectly did his background color match the salt and pepper sand that he was spotted only because he moved.  The resulting pictures, taken with every available feature the camera had to offer, show a patch of sand with some disembodied yellow circles.

    A bit further out in the bay, we found a cooperative bullethead blenny.  This small fish stuck around for three attempts with the macro feature, with and without flash.   Considering that this fish is both small and drab, I consider this photograph a success.  I don't think we will have it printed to display in the living room.

   Out by Surfer's Rock we encountered a freckle faced hawkfish.  This species can be pretty shy but he stood his ground and we nabbed this picture.  Sometimes the face on Mr. Freckle is a more intense cornflower blue, but that is not a fault of the camera.  After I got through annoying Mr. Freckle, Sandra directed my attention to a redbar hawkfish that was harboring inside a coral.   It was a great look at a fish rarely seen well, and one that we may have not seen before at Kahalu'u.  While I fiddled with the camera, the small hawkfish swam further into the coral, never to be seen again.

Black Francolin Crossing the Road  c/o Flicker

    Two days ago, on Sunday morning, we went back down to Ho'okena.   The surf was still down, so we had our choice...Ho'okena or City of Refuge.  Our decision may have been influenced by a violent crime that occurred near City the preceding evening.  A shootout on Painted Church Road resulted in at least one death with one of the combatants escaping on a motorcycle.  At the time we were contemplating our swim, this motorcyclist was still at large.  As it turned out, there was an altercation between three Hispanic gentlemen, all armed and all three shot, only one fatally.  The man who sped away on the motorcycle made a beeline for Kona Community Hospital, where the police identified him, early in the afternoon.  By the time the evening news came on, all these details were known.  But at 8:30 in the morning we couldn't be sure that a gunman wasn't hiding in the bushes near the Pu'u  o Honua National Park. One might suddenly find himself in need of refuge!

Flame Angelfish, Ho'okena June 2018

  And so we decided to go back to Ho'okena. 

  On the way down the narrow, winding road that eventually deposits one on the beach at Ho'okena, we encountered what must be considered the best species of the day.  Just after the big dip in the road that creates an outlet for flood water, a small game bird sashayed across the road.  Obviously a small francolin, he had a red neck and and a pronounced white cheek patch.  Like virtually all other birds below 3000 feet on the Big  Island of Hawai'i, francolins are introduced.  The gray francolin borders on being a nuisance.  Its loud laughing cry resounds through our neighborhood.  We had to refer to the bird guide when we got home to confirm that  this was a black francolin, a bird we seldom see.  Before we could reach for a camera, he disappeared  into the brush on the far side of the road.

Juvenile Hawaiian Sergeant    Ho'okena  June 2018

    Considering that we are still in an active volcanic period over on the Puna side (this week's headlines is cataracts of lava) the sky was nice and blue with gentle waves lapping on the long black sand beach.  As we started unloading into the small shelter at the north end of the park, Sandra noted that there was a notice proclaiming that the shelter was reserved for that Sunday.  At the same time, the family that had reserved the space was unloading large ice chests, a tent and barbecue.  The man overheard our remarks and invited us to stay on the other table for as long as we needed.  So, at least down south, there is hope for racial harmony.

    The water at Ho'okena was calm and clear, perfect for photography.  We found the coral with the angelfish colony and soon there was a good chance for a flame angelfish.  I dove ten or twelve feet for the picture you see here.  During that dive I experienced an extreme headache.  I tried a deep dive one more time with the same result and that was it for deep diving for the day.  I think that this photo of the flame angelfish is as good as any I have taken.  And it was really only one try.

Moorish Idol Looking for Lunch.

   About 100 yards off shore with a bottom forty feet below, we saw a pair of bridled triggerfish. 
These were not the dark bodied juveniles, but the ecru colored adults that look like a lei triggerfish on steroids. Back near shore, we attempted a variety of pictures of blue eyed damselfish, which were so fast moving that the camera failed to get a crisp picture.  I spotted a small family of Haig's Hermit crabs about four feet down, but by the time I adjusted the camera, I could not find them again.  That would have been a good bonding experience for me and the camera.  Maybe next time.

    Ashore, the folks in the shelter were still congenial.  As we packed up the car I pulled out my cell phone and took a few pictures around the bay, showing off the lovely blue sky.  I'm leaving with a photo of a guy resting in a lava pool.  If you can, try to find yourself a pool like this and kick back.

jeff

 Well I woke up Sunday mornin', no way to hold my head so it wouldn't bust.
So I went to Ho'okena, feelin' lower than a pile of lava dust.
And I found myself a tidepool, with the waves a splashin' with their soothing sound
And I settled in for Sunday, with Ho'okena comin' down.

God Bless ya, Willie.

So that's how you get her in the water!

      Of late, you have undoubtedly noticed that Sandra hasn't been doing a lot of snorkeling.  This is not due to disability or sloth, but rather an ennui spawned, as it were,  by a paucity of interesting fish.   This week we have experienced a decrease in the swell, enabling us to get out to places where

the water is clear and the fish are fine.

Peter and Marla watch the jet /fishing boat hauled out at the Mahukona pier.

     Two days ago we arranged to meet our friends Peter and Marla at Mahukona.  As we drove north past the airport and through Kawaihae, we were treated to a startling clear day.  The sky was as blue as could be and starting around Hualalai, we were treated to a clear a view of the home of the Demi-god Maui about seventy miles away.  The lack of volcanic haze made the day worth while before we even parked the car.

    Our friends were waiting for us on the pier at Mahukona.  Before we had a chance to get in the water, we watched two gentleman haul a twelve foot jet boat, from which they had been fishing, from the water.  To accomplish this they ran two straps attached to the ancient and rusty crane under their small boat and cranked away.  The crane rotated, they slipped a trailer under the small craft and, voila!  Peter noted that this was by far not the biggest vessel they had seen hauled out with the crane and at the same time he speculated

A Spectacled Parrot similar to the one at Mahukona, courtesy of Diveadvisor

that some day the rusty old beast would fail, creating a spectacular crash on the pier.  Free fiberglass fragments for everyone.  First come, first serve.

   There was just a a bit of slosh splashing by the ladder, with the depth varying a bit less than a foot, and we were all soon snorkeling through clear, sunlit water.  Not only was the water clear, but it had lots of interesting fish.  Over the next hour we saw some real beauties.  High on the list was the male spectacled parrotfish, a big blue, green, purple spectacle.  And we saw all four other possible parrots.  On the way back in, we saw some Hawaiian dascyllus in breeding plumage over an old engine, now encrusted with coral.

Juvenile Big Eye Emperor, courtesy of Fishes of Australia.net

   In this blog, we are still between a workable photo processor and an adequate camera, so the fish pictures you see are duly ascribed to their source in Google images.  If you look for spectacled parrot on Google images, you will see that it comes in a variety of flavors, from a sea green to a dark
blue/purple.  The latter is the one we have seen at Mahukona for the last two years.  He is a really handsome fish and the picture I have borrowed is a fair approximation of his coloring.  

    After the dascyllus we all went our own way.  I made a swim out onto the deep south reef looking for milletseed butterflies.  When I realized that I was all alone on this quest, I headed back in.  Left to my own devices, I decided to patrol the seaward edge of the pier, where large rocks have been placed to break up the surf.  This is the area where last year Peter showed us two leaf scorpionfish.

Adolescent Mu similar to the one at Mahukona  c/o Hawaiimarinelife

    As I approached the pier, I ran across a fish I had never seen before, an adolescent big eye emperor.  The adult is not terribly uncommon, a big gray fish with two darker saddles.  It is often seen near the surface, usually near deep water.  My impression is that it is good eating, because invariably the emperor, or mu as it is known in Hawaiian, is skittish.  I have only seen the juvenile twice, once at City and once at Ho'okena, the last being three or four years ago.  It is much smaller than the adult, a dramatically different shape and stays on the bottom in deeper water.  the fish we saw a few days ago was much more colorful than your average mu and, as you can see from the picture from the net, it was a different, intermediate shape.

    I then swam right in front of the pier in the shallows of the big rocks.  There I saw a pair of bluestripe butterfly.  I just made a paper mache bluestripe for one of the dive guides at Kona Honu divers...it is her favorite fish in part because it is sort of rare.  The only place I see it regularly is at Mahukona.   My swim was capped off by two nice Christmas wrasses, which are among my favorite fish in large part because they are so festive.  Festivus for the rest of us.  And when it comes to the feats of strength, don't spare the Christmas wrasses.

    Apres le swim, we retired to the Daylight Mind Coffee Shop for cappuccino, savory scones, and some incredible egg thing topped with mashed avocado and dumped on a piece of toast.  It is one of my rules that I never make fun of somebodies food while they are eating it, but Peter, Dude!, that thing looked disgusting!  While Peter chowed down on avocado surprise, we discussed other places to go

This is NOT Peter's breakfast!

snorkeling.  Like the Philipines.  And the breakwater at Kawaihae harbor.  Although I have heard of this before, it still seems odd that one would find excellent snorkeling at the entrance to a deep water port.  

   Recently, Peter and Marla ran into a gentleman that could not say enough about this unusual site.  One apparently gets checked through the gate by the boys from Homeland Security and makes his way to a short, sandy beach beside the concrete jetty.  Watching out for container ships, he swims around scouting for nudibranchs.  Here at the blog we are including a borrowed picture of the Imperial Nudibranch,  Rsbecia imperialis, found on the encrusted pediments of the Kawaihae breakwater.

    Oh.  He also sees black tip reef sharks.  If you have nothing better to do for the next five minutes you can check out this shark video.  Somebody needs to hop on this and add the Jaws music so we can really enjoy the video as God intended.  Maybe throw in some blood and an appendage or two.

 https://vimeo.com/264922703?from=outro-embed

     Yesterday Stormsurf said the waves would be almost nonexistent,  so we loaded up the car and headed down to Ho'okena.

                                     💜💛 💜💛 💜💛 💜💛 💜💛 💜💛 💜💛💜💛 💜💛 💜

    That row of purple and gold  hearts goes out to the Huskies women's softball team, who got mauled in the final game of the girls world series.  Their supporters showed up with stuffed unicorns, but our girls made it to the finals and played with great heart...like true dogs.  At the end of the sixth inning with the team down 8 to 2, somebody yelled from the stands, "Do it like a Husky! Come from behind!"  Who knew that Harvey Weinstein was a girls softball fan?

    Some Saturday afternoon in September, if you find yourself basking in the sun hard by the Montlake Cut, you may be lucky enough to stand and cheer these young warriors when they are marched out onto the field at half time.  Its great to be a Husky!

Go Huskies?

     A couple of days after the trip to Mahukona, the waves were about as mellow as they ever get, so we packed a bit of breakfast and something for tea and raced down to Ho'okena.  As we unloaded the car onto the picnic table, I discovered to my chagrin that I had left the Canon D 10 on the counter

Coming soon from B&J, Octopus Swirl Ice Cream

back at the ranch.  With the new camera on the way, this was to be the last hurrah for that aged war horse.  Trying to cheer me up, Sandra said, "Maybe we won't see anything good."  (Worthy of a picture.  To which I replied, "I think we're going to see something really good.""

     With psycho cybernetics on our side, we headed down the beach under a blue sky and a warm morning sun.  It was roughly 9 AM when we waded in through a gentle surf into cool, clear water.

   A mere thirty yards out we happened upon a fascinating relationship.  A small octopus was hunting with an eight stripe wrasse about fifteen feet down. The octopus was really handsome, a mottled
black caramel and white,  like some fancy Ben and Jerrys Ice cream.  We watched this for a minute or two, diving down fairly close.  Finally the octopus withdrew under a small coral.

    We swam out another ten yards to the coral complex that has been home to Potter's and Flame Angelfish.  We had some excellent looks at four Potter's angelfish about fifteen feet down.  And then we did something that we don't usually do.  Instead of swimming further out in search of such Ho'okena specialties as Gilded and Bridled Triggerfish and Garden Eels, which are found in deeper water, we headed north, checking out aggregations of coral about fifteen feet down.

Flame angelfish,  Ho'okena, January 2018

   Almost immediately, in the next large group of coral to the north, we saw a pair of flame angelfish.  shortly after that I spotted another eight stripe wrasse.  By this time I had picked out a field mark for this fish.  Most field guide pictures are taken by divers or in aquariums and show this pink fish with dark purple stripes from the side.  Snorkelers will see this fish from above, probably fifteen feet down.  At this vertical angle, a very useful field mark is the white stripe that runs to the tip of the snout.  I have borrowed a picture from Francesco Rinaldi that shows this white stripe. Francesco's fish is more golden than what we see at Ho'kena and it has finer purple stripes.  John Hoover, being a diver, does not mention this white line on the snout.

    This was a great day for flame angels, we saw them on two other coral heads.  And for eight line wrasse.  We saw at least five individuals of that fish.  In this instance, not having the camera made it easier for me to dive down and get better looks.   What a pleasure it was to swim down and get a look at these fine, fat wrasses as they swam from one coral to the next.  Like both the flame and Potter's angelfish, the eight line wrasse prefers to live in the fenestrated coral and pop out for short excursions.  Along with its preference for some depth, this may explain why we don't see it more often. 

   Further out we saw a cushion starfish living on one of the large coral heads.  On the way in we

Eight stripe wrasse courtesy of Franceso Rinaldi.

nabbed a flotilla of very large keeltailed needlefish.  So large were these keeltails that we had to convince ourselves that they weren't Heller's Barracuda or crocodile needlefish.  A picture would have come in handy, but that ship was sitting on the counter at Casa Ono.

    Ashore we enjoyed our tea, ham sandwiches, actually.  We had a nice chat with a young couple of divers that were vacationing from south Florida.  And then, through increasing vog, we headed to Kainaliu.  Sandra is making tiny Hawaiian shirts. At Kimura's she picked up some fabric with a small slipper print.  We had some fun in the other shops, too.  I'm pleased to say that Mr. Oshima did not have any of our friends in his meat case.

   I don't know where we will be snorkeling next, but the formula is pretty obvious:  If you want her to go swimming, take her where the fish are.

jeff

Write to Sandra at MyHawaiianChristmasOrnament.com to order your slipper shirt ornament for the holidays.

    

The Death of a Water Camera

Sunset through the vog from Casa Ono. 

     A few days ago, Sandra dropped me off for a swim down at the pier.  It was one in a string of heavily overcast days.  As we came down the hill, though, the vog was not so dense that I was unable to see the surf at Banyans.  And indeed, I witnessed a big wave coming ashore.  Fortunately, Kailua Bay is shielded from most surf and the area around the pier is usually safe enough for swimming. 
Water clarity is another issue; when the surf is up the water throughout Kailua Bay may have a lot of suspended particles.  From the foot of the pier, it was apparent that the water was cloudy on the Ironman side.  From where I stood, it looked like the clarity would approximate that of fat free milk.  With that information in hand, I opted for a swim starting in front of King Kam Hotel.

Threadfin with the D 10.  Kahalu'u june 2018

   Its June already, in case you are unaware, and commensurate with the advancing season, the water is getting warmer, even in the Inner Harbour.  Soon I was swimming out past the great king's heiau, barely able to see the rocks that were a foot or so beneath me.  This was more of an issue than usual because even there, in the Inner Harbour, the swell penetrated.  Sometimes those rocks were pretty close.

    Playing the waves and pushing off on the large rocks that were closesst ot  the surface, I made my way through the rip rap and out into the bay.  There the visibility was about ten feet, which is terrible but at least one has a chance to see something...assuming that there is anything to see.  One of the reasons that my beloved is not accompanying me more often on my swims is that there has been a significant diminution in the number of fish just in the last year.

The Three Amigos with the D 10 back in 2011

  The numbers are down and it has to be a really good day if, in an hour, I see more than 30 species.  And this swim was turning out to be no exception.

   When I got to the middle of the little bay, I paused and admired the surf breaking on the rocks guarding the opening into Paul Allen's private lagoon.  Thinking ahead to this blog, I decided that a picture of the breaking surf might be useful.  And so I retrieved my trusty Olympus TG 3 from the pocket of my suit and, after fastening it to my wrist, hit the power button. I thought I heard it beep, but other than that one tone, which I may have imagined, there was no sign of life.  I played with the power button a few more times, as if somehow that was going to help, and finally returned the camera to my pocket.  To quote one of our president's tweets, "Sad."

   I swam out a bit further, where the visibility increased a little, but the number of fish did not, and

Alton Brown from Good Eats teaches you to make silicon wafers.

then turned the army around and swam back.  I must have hit a set as I got to the rip rap, because it took a bit of care and maneuvering to get through those rocks.  Inside I got turned around by a wave and looked up to find myself swimming onto the pediment of the heiau.   Being a good Scot, I made it back to the beach without any real trouble.

    At this point, I brought out the old Canon D 10, a camera that I have owned for about eight years.  Imagine, if you can, the computer that you were using eight years ago!  Suffice it to say, from the standpoint of the technology,this old warhorse is a dinosaur.  Never the less, it still takes a serviceable picture.

    The next day, D 10 in hand, Sandra and I went down to Kahalu'u.   The surf was still up, so there was a significant current, but the water was warm and not too cloudy.  And speaking of cloudy, the wind had shifted to a more southerly direction and for the first time in over a week we had a bit of blue sky and some relatively unfiltered sunlight.

   I swam for about forty minutes without seeing any unusual fish, but I did have the opportunity to

Psychedelic Wrasse juvenile Courtesy of Honolulu Magazine

photograph a few of the usual suspects that are still present at this former fish finding heaven.  I'm presenting a couple pictures, doctored to the best of my ability, so you can judge for yourself what an eight year old camera can still do.  I am including a picture taken with the same camera seven years ago for caparison.  Its clear to me that the old girl ain't what she used to be.

    It is my opinion, and I have old pictures to back me up, that the image sensor in this camera has deteriorated over time.  I am not an engineer and the chat on this subject is a bit arcane, but there are plenty of qualified people that feel that a sensor becomes less precise over time.  The sensor in the D 10 is a CCD.  Most modern cameras use a CMOS sensor.  The reason for the change in technology probably has less to do with image quality than power usage; a CMOS sensor may use up to 100 times less electricity than a comparable CCD sensor. When experts talk among themselves about deteriorating sensors, they debate whether silicon wafers can change over time.  Now even I, dog that I am, would not eat an eight year old wafer.

   After this fateful experiment, we decided that a new camera was pretty much inevitable.  There was little hope that the TG 3 would spring, like Lazarus, back to life, we left the newly deceased in a container with a cup of rice over the weekend.

    There are two ways to choose a new camera.  One is to repair to the internet and see what is available.  Over the last decade the number of cameras that claim to be water proof to a depth exceeding ten meters has ballooned.  One can no longer go to Amazon or Best Buy, search for "the best hand held underwater camera" and come away with a clear idea of what to purchase.  There are literally over 100 different cameras offered by Amazon that might fit this bill.  Starting at less than $50, these cameras all claim to be waterproof without a housing.  More research reveals that many of these are fairly fragile and are apt to leak in short order.

   To narrow the list, I spoke to some dive shop operators.  My friend Stacey at Kona Honu Divers, who takes some  kick ass underwater pictures, said that many people were turning to the Sony.  When I got home, I discovered that Sony markets at least three of these compact waterproof cameras.  Its not clear which camera Stacey was referring to. Suffice it to say, Stacey is not using one of these compact cameras, which are so useful for snorkelers, when she takes her marvelous pictures. 

   Since this is a big decision, I also went into Jack's Dive Locker.  There we met a charming young

Imagine actually getting to talk to someone!

lady named Shiela Blum, who uses the newest Olympus offering, the TG 5.  She showed us a picture of a juvenile psychedelic wrasse that she had taken the week before with her TG 5 at 25 feet.  The psychedelic wrasse, which isn't quite as far out (dude) as you might think, is one of those fish that live just below snorkeling depth and, as a consequence, is not on my life list.  Regardless of the envy that arose in my breast, it was a nice picture.  All the beautiful pictures I have taken lately were chilling out in a tupperware container full of rice, so I was in no position to play tit for tat.  

   Ms. Blum recommended Backscatter, a company with salesrooms on Cannery Row in Monterey, California and one in Derry, New Hampshire.  I spoke twice to Rob, who appears on the Backscatter video talking about underwater cameras.  For the snorkeler, Rob loves the Olympus TG 5...nothing else is even close for quality of pictures and reliability. 

     This morning we removed the stone and the TG 3 came out of  its tomb.  Sad to say, it is not walking among us, exhorting us to take pictures in out of the way locations like Ephesus and Corinth.  Rather, a shiny new TG 5 is on the way from Monterey.  Hallelujah. 

jeff 2018

   

Snorkeling in the Nuclear Winter

     Over the last few weeks we have been pleased by the number of people who have emailed us or called, expressing concern as our volcanic island makes the national news night after night.  By and large, we are minimally affected.  Like all of you, we marvel at the destruction going on over in Pahoa.  The lava geyser on the news last night was especially interesting.  Not to mention the video

of the guy holding his fellow Pahoan at bay with a pistol and the heavy equipment building a new

Coming soon to Keahou Cinemas:  Slim Pickens in Nuclear Winter

road across virgin lava as a crude escape route.  If you haven't seen this stuff, I'm sure you can google search it.

     Perhaps the next time around, the people who are contemplating living near the volcano will take the words of JRR Tolkien to heart.  “It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him.” Knowing the people who live in the Puna area as I do (which is mostly second hand, thank God) I imagine that many of them will move right back.  

    Here in Kona we have not experienced running rivers of red hot lava nor flying volcanic rocks the size of an Escalade hurtling through the air.  But there is no doubt that the weather has changed and that our air quality is not what it should be.  The most obvious thing is the loss of the horizon.  Back in the good old days , which ended a month ago, from our perch about 750 feet above the sea we would experience a bright blue sky and a crisp horizon twenty miles away.  We have not seen a crisp horizon from up here since our

Golden Pompano on parade at Foodland

return. 

   Over the last two weeks the visibility has been about two or three miles.  So if you are at sea level and it is relatively clear, you might see a fuzzy horizon.

   Although the air quality is abysmal, and if you truly have airway disease and a choice in the matter you might consider moving somewhere else until the volcano settles down  There has been one significant advantage. The air temperature, especially in the afternoon, is remarkably lower than usual.  This isn't just my unpublished data, but that of my friends, as well.  All three or four of them.  By mid-afternoon, we should be sweltering in front of a fan with an iced drink at hand, but that isn't the case now.  Yesterday afternoon, I was actually wearing real clothes. Shocking.

    I have been reminded of the prediction of  a nuclear winter.  The scenario goes that if we were to exchange thermonuclear devices with the former Soviet Union, the explosions would throw so much

Aku Aku.  Skipjack Tuna at Foodland

particulate matter into the atmosphere that the sun's rays could not penetrate, the earth would cool and those of us who did not die in the initial blast would suffer through a long nuclear winter.  Presumably, like the dinosaurs, we would run out of food and cease to exist.  To a small extent, we are currently conducting that experiment on the leeward side of the big island.

    Due to the kind recommendation of some friends, Sandra and I are now Elks. This  affords us the opportunity to go down to the Elks Club, a frumpy facility in the old industrial district of Kailua, and enjoy Taco Tuesday.  And this we did a couple days ago.  As we arrived, it was overcast.  But then, its always overcast.  From the lanai at the Elks Club one would ordinarily have a peek-a-boo view of the ocean between the towers of the King Kamehameha Hotel and, a little further south, over Kailua Town.  Those were the days.

Snakeshead Cowry, Kahalu'u 2018

   As we sat awaiting our tacos, the town filled up with a smoky haze.  There was no hope of seeing the ocean...one was lucky if he could see the traffic backed up at the corner of Kuakini and Palani, a scant two blocks away.  By the time we finished eating, this event was dissipating.  Surreal, to say the least.

   We are all eager for the volcano to settle down, but in the meantime life goes on. This week we enjoyed a small bit of fish watching at Foodland.  One of the advantages of living on an island in the middle of nowhere is the opportunity to see whole live fresh fish of varieties not usually encountered on the reef.   These fish are are quite still, looking back at you through a thin plastic film in the cooler at the neighborhood grocery.  Hawaiians will eat damn near anything pulled from the sea.  In the past, we have seen a variety of surgeonfish and even a school of razorfish, those unusual wrasses with the cephalic spine that usually lie buried in the sand.

   This week Foodland featured two jacks and the beloved milkfish.   The first was pompano.  This is

Yellow Cone, Kahalu'u 2018

clearly not the fish known as African pompano, which as an adult is a large silvery game fish and as a juvenile is that diamond shaped fish with the long trailers off its fins known as the threadfin jack.  These sad fellows are probably snubnose or golden pompano, Trachinotus blochii.   Google searching this species leads us to believe that it does not occur in Hawaii, but occurs wild as close as Samoa and southern Japan.  It could be wild here and Mr. Google is simply oblivious to this.  More likely, this species is employed in aquaculture and, I suppose, that was the origin of these pescados.

   The second was a brace of skipjack tuna.  Just last week we saw a fishing show where they were angling for these relatively small tuna.  Indeed, all  skipjack tuna  are line caught in Hawaii.  They are

Hebrew Cone hunting in a mayonaise jar 2006

known as aku and occasionally one sees them for sale on the side of the road.  Not only are they a handsome fish, but they are reputedly delicious. As you can see, these guys at Foodland might run about four pounds, which Mister G states is the lower end  for skipjacks.  A big one might run thirty pounds and be dwarfed by some of those monster ahi that end up in the Honolulu fish market. 

   I had a chance to go snorkeling yesterday at Kahalu'u where I saw very little in the way of new or interesting fish.Certainly no pompanos or skipjacks.  I did see a couple molluscs, however.  Out in the middle between two rocks I saw this elegant Snakeshead cowry.  Such a mean name for such a pretty shell.  John Hoover tells us that at night it extends a green mantle with papillae sometimes tipped with red.  If you go to pinterest, you can find a picture of this.  You will also find pictures of choice cowries used as hair ornaments.  How sad.  
 

Hunting cones always remind me of the Tarkus.

    Speaking of John Hoover, we offered him a place to stay if his home is destroyed by the Volcano ...he actually lives in Volcano!  He thanked us but said that there is no ash and no vog in Volcano and (this really hurts because it is so true) things are probably worse in Kona.

    Elsewhere on the reef I found this yellow cone shell, somewhat the worse for wear.  No risk of this guy being turned into a hair ornament.  One of our readers has expressed an interest in cone shells hunting and so I am leaving you with a picture of a cone shell in a mayonaise jar aquarium hunting at night back on our Alii villas lanai in 2006.  Before I knew better.

    On the way in I said hello to a group of female ember parrotfish.  On the beach I was greeted by a young couple from San Francisco who had had their flight delayed.  They wanted to know, was this a good place to see some fish.  And here is my advice:  When all else fails, go snorkeling at Kahalu'u. 

The Ember Parrot says, "You can't go wrong at K Bay."