A Winter Swim with Roy Rogers and Dale Evans

     With the jet stream moving south faster than a Hawaiian Airlines747, Hawaii is beset by high surf, high winds and low temperatures.  Our high in Kona yesterday was a frigid 76.  Holy underwear!  Better make that long underwear.

Fly to the Emerald City and take them spam.  Lots of it!

    Thankfully things aren't as bad as they are in Seattle.  When your city makes the national news for its weather it is rarely a good thing.  According to one of our faithful readers, the snow in the Emerald City has been so persistent that the shelves down at the Piggly Wiggly have been stripped bare.  That happens here on the Big Island at least once a year when we are threatened by a hurricane.  Its sort of creepy.

    Like if you were starving, would you have to fight it out for the last can of spam?

    Perhaps in an act of unexpected benevolence, the Wicked Witch will marshal her flying monkeys for an airlift into the metropolis that fashions itself after Frank Baum's fantasy.  It seems like they can use all the help they can get.

   Despite the frigid zephyrs whistling through our tropical paradise, I made it down to the pier for a swim on Saturday.  No surprises, there were relatively few people at the beach.  I mean, what sort of masochist goes swimming in cold water with full knowledge that when he gets out he will be buffeted by cold winds?  In the words of Garfield the Cat, I resemble that remark.  Or so it would appear.

Blackside Hawkfish.  Anybody got an Eskimo Pie?

  Suffice it to say,  I bucked up my courage, tucked in my neoprene and plunged into the cool, cloudy water.  With great surfing conditions being as persistent as the snow on the Space Needle, one might
have anticipated that the water would lack clarity.

    There were only a few fish and nothing remarkable as I made my way out past the last swim buoy.  Out in front of the palace, I spotted one fat freckeld hawkfish waiting patiently, perhaps for an Eskimo pie.  I dove down to capture the image that you see here, enjoying the slightly warmer water that one encounters a few feet below the surface. 

    Working my way back, I crossed under the floating line at the second swim buoy.  To my dismay, there was little of interest over by the pier.  No eels or hermit crabs and relatively few fish.  Sad.

Finescale Triggerfish wounded in action.  Kailua Pier  February 2019

    As I headed towards shore I was surprised to be joined by none other than Roy Rogers and Dale Evans.  Who would have guessed that the King of the Cowboys was also a snorkeling fishwatcher?  There was no doubt that it was Roy because he was yodeling through his snorkel.  Perhaps that is what scared away all the fish.

   As we approached the floating line, Dale, said, "Pardon me, Roy.  But did the cat that chewed your new shoes also take a bite out of trigger?"  Looking towards the pier, I saw immediately what she was talking about.  A finescale trigger (fish) was cowering there in the lee of a boulder, a large chunk missing from his dorsal musculature.  I don't know if the poor triggerfish was a victim of  the puma that roams Roy's Apple Valley Ranch, but you now know how far I will go to slip in an apocryphal reference.

  Happy trails to you, until we meet again.

jeff

If you think Dale looks cute here, you should see her in a shorty wetsuit.