Under the Boardwalk...The Kawaihae Wharf

   Yesterday was another beautiful day here in Kona.  Unfortunately, we are getting ready to head back to Portland in a few short days and Sandra felt she needed to stay home and clean and pack and do all those other things necessary to prepare for departure.  Thus, I found myself driving solo, no

A bright, sunny Saturday on the beach at Kawaihae Harbor.

Lieutenant Uhura to send my friends and relatives text messages, to pass me drinks and to watch for goats and other roadside hazards.  When you think about it, I was lucky to make it to Kawaihae.

   At about 9:30, under the shade of an accommodating jub jub tree in the pretty little park by the open ocean, I was joined by our good friend and guide, Hai On.  We mounted up and Hai led me back toward the entrance, past a growing crowd of families that were setting up for a day of swimming, parties and relaxation beside the harbor.  We parked in an unlikely spot about 50 yards beyond the tidal wash, looking at Kawaihae wharf perhaps 70 yards away.

   In preparation for a swim, Hai has a signature routine.. two sets of wet suits and a weight belt that makes him look like a singer from Men At Work. I have not yet got him to do YMCA, but I'm sure its just a matter of time.  Suspended from his weight belt are multiple pouches for things like scissors, knives, a Go Pro and a still camera.  The good news is that he finds lots of cool

White Humped Nudibranch Kawaihae Harbor

stuff upon which to take amazing pictures with his camera.

   I, being an aging fatso, have a simpler routine, just a swim shirt and a dirty red bandana. And my snorkel, through which I blow softly while Sandra sings the blues.

(For those of you that miss the reference that is Willie Nelson singing the Chris Christofferson all time hit, Bobby McGee...it's Sandra's favorite.)

   Having dressed for the occasion, I was guided to a spot on the embankment which required only a three foot drop to the level below.  At this point we were looking at the rip rap shoreline of the harbor.  We strolled down near the water's edge, to a spot where the rip rap broke up creating at this hour a very shallow pond.  Following Hai's instructions, I waded in utilizing tiny patches of sand, flattened out and crawled over the scattered rocks, which were inconveniently covered with sea urchins and only a couple inches of water.  The fact that we were hitting this at extreme low tide made this part more difficult than it might have been. 

    It was an easy swim across the harbor to the wharf.  This is a big structure which weekly receives much of what we consume on this side of the island in the way of food and sundries.  Container ships, sea going tugs, and large, ocean-going barges tie up to this structure, which Google maps suggests stretches  more than 300 yards.  It is important to note, that this excursion took place on a Saturday, a day of rest across this part of the industrial sector. Suffice it to say, if one is going critter hunting in such an environment, it is best to avoid the ocean going

The cryptically colored Painted nudibranch

barges and tugs and all the accompanying machines and activity associated with unloading.

 The wharf, the raison d'etre for the large harbor, is supported by an infinite forest of cement pilings, and it was into that enchanted wood that we now entered.   The first set of piling is several feet back from the edge of wharf,  the under side of which was roughly ten feet above the surface of the water.  As such, this area does not get all that much sun.  Below the surface, almost everything is red and orange...red seaweed and a variety of orange sponges.  Of course there were gray sponges, black sponges and purple sponges, as well.

    Almost immediately, Hai found some nudibranchs, a pair of white bumped nudis overlapped in such a way that one might have suspected some hanky panky.  Several groupings of white margin nudibranchs followed.  In much the same way that a highly sought after bird becomes, shortly after the first sighting, a dirt bird, these white bumped and white margin nudis took on the aspect of the prosaic; there were lots of them.

    This doesn't mean they were easy to photograph.  First, they were not very large, perhaps 3 cm in length, 2 across the beam.  Second, there was the soft swell to contend with.  If one wants to take a really good picture, he needs to hold the camera still.  Very still.  Immobile!  If he is being swished around, to even a small degree, that is a bad thing.  One might think that with all those pilings, which

The gorgeous Caloria #3 , Under the Boardwalk

occurred at two foot intervals off to infinity, there would be plenty of opportunity for bracing.  One must remember that these potential supports were thoroughly encrusted with sponges and coral (and bears, oh my!), all of which can produce substantial skin irritation.

  Note to self...next time wear a full body suit.

   And then there was a third issue with which we needed to deal...the relative lack of light.  Usually when I am taking pictures underwater, I am, if not in bright sunlight, at least out in the open during the day.  Here we were in pretty dense shade.  It took a bit of work, but I was able to locate the shutter speed on the file for the photos I took under the wharf.  Using available light, I was frequently shooting at 1/25th of a second.  Back in the summer of 1970, when we was stuck in the Huntsville Penitentiary, my brother taught me to use a Nikon F, which the warden kindly loaned us for use in the yard.  It was Chuck's contention, as I recall, that a 60th of of a second was the slowest one should employ for a hand held picture.  On dry land.  Holding real still. 

   As above, not only was I holding the camera in my hand, but, to at least some moderate extent, my body was continually in motion.  Of course, one overcomes the motion problem by using the flash.  That blast of light stops the image cold.  But a flash picture usually does not look

Snowflake Coral Blooming Under the Boardwalk

like one taken with natural light, which I find preferable. Under the boardwalk, though, there was no choice.  Use the flash or suffer the ignominy of a blurry picture.  

   One final caveat.  Hai had offered me the use of a weight belt, saying that the weight would permit me to remain more still in the water.  I eschewed his kind offer, opting for maximum buoyancy in this unknown (dare I say a bit intimidating) situation.  That, of course, is only one of many reasons why his pictures are better than mine.

   Despite all this hanging of crepe, all the pictures you see here are mine, except for the "Inidan" nudibranch, which I never saw.

    We saw several more species of nudibranchs, seven total, unless I am mistaken.  Eight if you count Thompson's nudibranch, see below.  Early on, my guide hooked me up with a painted nudibranch, which contrary to what one might expect from the name, is "painted" rather cryptically.  We also saw the drop dead beautiful Caloria #3, which slithered over its spongy substrate like some mythical Chinese dragon.  And we saw plenty of gloomies and a couple tremblings that you will recall from the blogs about the landing craft pylons.

"a corallimorpharian of some sort"  John Hoover.

    And there were lots of other strange animals to look at.  One of my favorites was a large colony of snowflake coral.  The Bible says that the polyps are extended in this soft coral only at night or when there is a strong current.  We had entered on a very low tide and it was now rising towards a big high tide.  Hence, although undetectable to your humble correspondent, this constituted a big current for this spot.

    Along the way, I photographed this strange animal that looks like a ciliated silver dollar.  I sent this one off, along with the picture of the giant hermit crab, to John Hoover.  He is going to consult another expert, but his preliminary ID is "a corallimorpharian of some sort."  Just try using that word in a game of scrabble.

    I had just surfaced following one of many quixotic attempts to photograph the nudibranchs when I heard voices.  At first I thought it was workers up on the wharf, Saturday be damned.  But swimming out into the clear, I saw that Hai had been joined by another diver.  And this one was wearing the same dive cap as the accomplice in the giant hermit crab photos that you will hear about in another

A Tiny Slendertail Moray Eel courtesy of Lottie

blog.  Low and behold, it was Hai's good friend, Lottie.

   Lottie was immediately shown to be charming and generous.  I think she might also be on the dishy side, but when one is in a wet suit,  cap and snorkel mask, its a little hard to tell.

   It was no surprise that Lottie turned out to be an excellent swimmer and diver.  Like Hai, she was also an excellent finder of the aquatic fauna.  Perhaps her best find was a tiny eel that was living in a crevice among the sponges.  His head was no bigger around than my little finger and he was very patient as I took a few snapshots.  As you can see, one of them actually turned out.  Research back at the ranch revealed this to be a small slendertailed moray eel.  Life fish for Jeffrey!

A Trio of White Margined Nudibranchs

    On one of her deeper dives, Lottie spotted what she called, "one of the Indians."  I attempted to
duplicate her effort, but it wasn't possible for me to dive ten feet and find the tiny critter she had pointed out. If I had found it, it would have been the eighth or ninth species of nudibranch on the day for me.  A few minutes later, Hai and Lottie combined to find an extremely small nudi.  It was yellowish and for a moment it was adhering to Lottie's glove, much like a small globule of snot.  As best as I can put it together, this may have been a white spotted nudibranch. I thought I had a picture, but either I discarded it by mistake or missed the critter fair and square.

    A little research, this time using Keoki Stender's site, suggests that an odd, gray lump that I photographed may be another nudibranch, Berthelia  sp.   Some prankster has named the dullest, grayest colored butterflyfish and surgeonfish after the illustrator at the Bishop Museum, John W. Thompson.  Wouldn't it be appropriate to name this guy Thompson's nudibranch?

Berthelia  thompsnii  Thompson's nudibranch.  Hill 2019

    After that encounter we split up.  I discovered that I was able to find some of these little jewels on my own.  A gorgeous Caloria #3 played hide and seek with me, dodging around beneath a leaf of that red seaweed.  Despite my neck breaking work, I couldn't get a picture.


   By this time, we had been swimming for almost an hour and half, although Lottie had been with us for only half an hour.  I bid the happy duo adieu and swam across the harbor, luckily finding my way to the spot where we entered (and where I had left my slippers.  In the two hours that had elapsed

An Indian Nudibranch, photo by Hai On

since we had first entered, the tide had risen substantially and the urchin infested rocks were now under a sufficient amount of water to make reaching the shore fairly easy.  I used my fins as a movable walkway to gain my slippers, enjoyed a lovely ocean side shower back at the park, and I was on my way.

    Hai is a good friend and a super guide.  Both Sandra and I are looking forward to more outings with both Hai and Lottie.  Perhaps I will even get to see Lottie sans snorkel!


jeff

Below a Caloria # 3 heads for the barn.  Photo by Jeffrey Hill!

On the trail of the New-dibranchs

    A bit more than a week ago, our friend Hai, the Godfather of Kawaihae, sent a us text to the effect that the water at Kawaihae had cleared and nudibranchs were in a state of wild perfusion.  Unfortunately, we were not able to get away the next day.  Or the day after that.  In that short period, our pals Peter and Marla had met with Hai and seen several species of the fascinating and beautiful

The River God Arno snorkels in the Vatican Musem

sea slugs.

    As soon as we could, we headed north.  Not only were we unable to meet with Hai that morning (he was getting a new tire on his truck, which required him to come all the way south from Waimea to Kailua),  but as we made the final turn to nudibranch central, we discovered the army landing craft tied up to the very platforms we were hoping to snorkel.

    We had an alternative in mind and headed another fourteen miles north to Mahukona.  As we prepared to go down the ladder we encountered a gentleman with a scraggly white beard.  He was reclining against the cement wall and reminded us of one of those mythical river gods one might encounter in one of those half forgotten church yards in Palermo.  The river God took our measure and said, "There's nothing out there but one turtle."

A fine leatherback pauses for a photo.  Mahukona April 2019

   For the first two thirds of our swim the River God looked like a latter day Nostradamus. As we made our turn for home, out on the south cusp, we didn't even see the usual school of milletseeds.  Closer to the pier, our luck changed in a hurry.  A nice Leatherback jack swam by and then stopped within range for a quick snapshot.  This is a fast moving fish that is rarely, if ever, so accommodating

    While I was getting my shot Sandra saw something good.  I thought she said it was a bird wrasse.  I looked around, saw nothing and asked for a clarification.  It was a surge wrasse!  A nice male with a face pattern...and long gone.  As we were looking for the wrasse, what should break cover but a large great barracuda.  He swam away fairly quickly and was never in range for a photo.  This was a big animal, possibly four feet long.  The color of oxidized silver with dark vertical wedges.  I was longing for a picture, but truth be told, if he had turned and approached us I

Great Barracuda, Paul Allen's Reef  February 2012

would have been more than a little concerned.  Despite being potentially ciguatoxic, this fish finds himself on the menu with some regularity, so I was glad for his sake that he was shy.

    Here I am including a picture of a great barracuda taken on Paul Allen's Reef in 2012.  Aside from one that was stalking the fishball about three years ago, I haven't seen a big one since.  And the one we saw at mahukano was dramatically bigger.  With luck, he is out making baby barracudas even as you read this blog.

    On the way in, just opposite the ladder, we played hide and seek with a small yellowtail filefish.   As a final treat, a female pearl wrasse went shooting by.  The female pearl wrasse is a fish we used to see commonly at the Kailua pier and occasionally at Kahalu'u, but I haven't seen one there in over a year.  Leave it to Mahukona to harbor our long lost friends. Despite missing on the nudibranchs, Sandra and I were pleased with our morning fish watching.  The only thing we missed was the turtle.

    For the next few days, life continued to interrupt our quest for nudibranchs, During that short interval, Peter and Marla joined Hai again, snorkeled by the actual dock at Kawaihae, right among the pilings, 

The south end of a north bound trembling nudibranch.  Kawaihae April 2019

and saw a variety of cool animals including six species of nudibranchs!

   Finally today we got together with Hai, and snorkeled the pylons.  We saw lots of good stuff, mostly on the first pylon.  Trembling nudibranch and a pair of banded coral shrimp came early,.  then on the far side of the platform Hai found a decorated nudibranch. He was back in a niche between two pylons, very difficult to see,  and for me, impossible to photograph.  From our perspective, it looked like a tiny bit of something, two centimeters long and four millimeters across, white down the middle with an orange fringe.  Earlier in the week Hai had gotten a better look and took the accompanying photograph, seen in its glory below..  Not only is he  very good at finding these difficult little animals, but he does a fine job getting them in a photo.

      We would also see a gloomy nudi on the same first platform.  This was an excellent look, so even I could get a passable picture.  Before we saw the gloomy, our sharp eyed guide spotted something that none of us could identify.  On first blush, it looked like the siphon of a sponge poking out through an encrusting coral. This siphon, though was thinner and fluted outwards.  The inside of this fluting

Gloomy Nudibranch, Kawaihae April 2019

siphon was a psychedelic dream, as if someone had taken a back gammon board, cut in half and the made the background a bright orange and the pips dark, but filled with multicolored fluorescent spots. As we were obviously looking at a siphon, I figured it must me one heck of a sponge hiding under the other, encrusting sponge.

    When we got home, I repaired to my Hoover's critter book.  I had studied sponges less than a year ago, when we first went to Kawaihae, and I didn't recall anything like this psychedelic siphon,  but I was willing to learn.  However, as I suspected, John Hoover pictured no such sponge.  I thought he might have an addendum of new species at the end of the book, so I started from the back pages.  There was no addendum, but, as it turned out, the last chapter was devoted to tunicates.  Tunicates in Hawaii appear as sessile colonies that the snorkeler sees as encrusting colonies  with ovaloid openings.   Not very interesting once one knows what these rather common encrustaceans are.  However, the tunicate story is very interesting, and it explains why tunicates are at the end of the

Hermandia momus  Your second cousin from a phylogenetic point of view

book.

    As you know, many sea animals release their products of conception into the sea, they get together and form free swimming animals until they attach to a substrate.  In the case of tunicates, these free swimming juveniles possess backbones and tails.  Hence, they are classified as the most primitive group in Phylum Chordata.  Same as us. Most tunicates in Hawaii are colonial and appear as those hard, encrusting colonies .  Elsewhere, like in the Western Pacific, there are species that live as individual animals,  and to the uninitiated, look a lot like sponges.  These are sea squirts, so named because if you dislodge one to examine it, it squirts at you.  So, about five pages short from his magnificent treatise on Hawaiian critters, John Hoover deals with sea squirts.  Low and behold, our psychedelic sponge was the siphon of a native Hawaiian sea squirt. Hermandia momus.

     After a turn around the the second platform, Sandra headed for the beach.  Hai and I looked at the third platform with similarly disappointing results, if you don't count a nice plump cushion star.

   We swam for an hour and a half in the cold water and had a great time.  If you happen to find yourself in Kawaihae look for Hai.  you won't be disappointed.

jeff

Caloria #3 Nudibranch,  Photograph courtesy of the Redoubtable Hai On,  Kawaihae  2019

We received a helpful bit of identification, perhaps from Pauline Fiene.  Clearly Sandra and i did not see the nudibranch that Hai identified as decorated well enough to identify it ourselves.  And there are a huge number of nudibranchs found in Hawaii.  Thanks to whoever helped with the identification.  As a well-intentioned dilletante, i promise to try a little harder to get it right.

Early Morning at K Bay: Turtles and Cones

The hawksbill is universally knownium
For a snout that wields a sharp tomium.
Keep your fingers away

At the Fishwatcher's Bar and Grill  Time for some cone shell sliders.

Or you'll be forced to say,
"I've been subjected to hawksbill opprobrium."

     This week began with a dose of disappointment.  The previous Sunday we had been nominated to
assist with communion.  Later in the week our friend Hai On, the Godfather of Kawaihae sent us a thrilling text, bearing news of renewed nudibranch activity, etc. at the Kawaihae  Harbor army platforms.  We had arranged to meet him today and then, almost immediately, the faucet in the master bath started to leak. I then thought we could go with Hai on Sunday, but the nasty business of serving communion came up.   So it all got cancelled.

Encrusted Cone Shell with a Handsome Red Lined Foot

    We arrived at church only to find that the rug of our Jesus's blood shed for thee gig had been pulled out from under us.  We toyed with the idea of walking out, going home, grabbing our snorkels and heading north, but there really wasn't time to make the scene in Kawaihae.  Sandra spent the service uttering dire epithets against the liturgical staff and waxing sotto voce about the missed nudibranchs.

    She wished that (name withheld to protect the not so innocent) was struck dead
While visions of nudibranchs danced in her head.  

    This morning, not trusting our lackadaisical plumber any more than the nameless recruiter for Lutheran communion, I went for an early morning snorkel at Kahalu'u.  I got there just a bit after 7:30.  To my surprise, there were already six worthies snorkeling in the bay.  I soon joined them in water that was pleasantly cool and occasionally quite clear.  In the cloudy entry I spotted a smaller raccoon butterfly, that let me take his picture.  The photo quality was what you would expect in water filled with suspended particles and the mid-size raccoon had, as we discovered later, developed that trailing black crescent that is the hallmark of adult coloration, versus the juvenile that has no crescent and an occulus at two o'clock.  Or, as we say at the Fishwatcher's Bar and Grill, "It must be two o'clock somewhere."

Orange Spine Unicornfish  Kahalu'u April 2019

    Out in the bay, while dodging my fellow early birds, I spotted this fine encrusted cone shell nestling in a niche halfway up a coral.  I picked him up and moved him to a perch, hoping that a cone shell hermit crab would emerge.  I took a couple pictures, this one being especially crisp.  What we see here, behind those elegantly illuminated urchin spines, is a cone shell snail.  If you look at the long aperture you will see the crimson margin of his foot.  Because the shell is so completely encrusted with coralline algae, it is impossible to tell just which cone shell we have here.  The one physical feature of the shell that helps in identification is the rounded shoulder. It is worth noting that
many cone shells live entirely in the sand.   Hence, it is very unlikely that this is the highly toxic textile cone, for example.  Hebrew cones, which we see regularly at K Bay, may live up on the coral.  Penniform and soldier cones are other possibilities; they have round shoulders, live out of the sand and are found in shallow water.

Hawksbill Turtle with Sharp Tomiuum Kahalu'u April 2019

   I really thought that handsome red lining on the foot would be diagnostic.

   As an aside, didn't Little black Sambo have red linings on his slippers?  If he was a mollusc, perhaps we should consider him.

   There are few pictures that I could find of cone shell snails with their foot extended and none of those (that I could find) had a red lining.  Perhaps the foot changes color when the animal is hunting.  Is it possible that the cone somehow realizes that it is covered with red coralline algae and adjusts the foot color accordingly?

   With these questions swimming in our bemused sensorium we continued our journey around the bay.   Here is a cracker jack orange spine unicornfish that crossed our path shortly after the cone shell encounter.

    Over by the Rescue Shelter I encountered a small sea turtle.  Primed by my discussion of the small hawksbill with the photographer in the shower my last (benighted) time at Kahalu'u, I took special note of this amphibious reptile. Sandra and I had looked at pictures of the two turtles a week ago and decided that distinguishing between the two wasn't nearly as obvious as one might hope.  Yes, the beak is sharper on the hawksbill, but maybe not all that much..

Hawksbill Turtle With Clawed Flipper  Kahalu'u April 2019

Another nebulous field mark is the relatively more prominent spots on the head.

   It wasn't until I got home and Sandra attacked the books that we discovered that the hawksbill turtle has two distinct claws on each front flipper.  Perhaps it should be called the claw footed turtle.  Of course, the hawksbill does have a sharp, pointed snout known as a tomium, which is clearly seen in today's pictures.

    Sandra remembered our close encounter with a friendly green sea turtle at Kawaihae and I am including a couple pictures of that guy as a foil for the hawksbill.   

    As I was working on this blog, the morning was wearing on and Sandra said, "Today is our anniversary.  Why don't you take me to Harbor House for lunch."  What can I say?  The girl likes a Philly cheese steak and  Fire rock pale ale.

Green Sea Turtle,  Kawaihae  2018  No Collusin ...or is it no Tomium

   While we dined, we discussed life back at the ranch.  A few days ago we had trapped a gecko that had made it back into the house twice after being taken for a walk.  On that day he got taken for a drive across Lako to the end of Kilohana, just short of a mile, and three hundred vertical feet, from
our home.  I said to Sandra, give me another week and I'll bet that the gecko makes it back to our house before Danny (name changed to protect the tardy) comes to fix the faucet.   Weren't we surprised when we got home to find our plumber hard at work.  Lucky for me, Sandra didn't take the bet.  And lucky for both of us, and I suppose our house exchanging friends, too, that the faucet is fixed.

  My advice:   As you stumble to your stool at the Fishwatcher's Bar and Grill, don't forget that hawksbill at K Bay.  A life turtle on the rocks, please, with a side of cone shell sliders. 

jeff

No Tomium, No Problem.

Snorkeling Into My Dotage

      About a week ago, Sandra declared that she needed to go to the KTA store for sesame oil.  She didn't specify which KTA store, so I asked if she could make it the KTA at Keahou and  I could be dropped off for some snorkeling at Kahalu'u.  I got my stuff together, changed into my swimsuit and

Shopping at the KTA, a Kailua Kona tradition.

we were on our way.

     As we approached Kahalu'u, I ran down my checklist and decided that I had probably left my fins at home.  Bob Hillis, among others, will note that this is not the first time this has happened.  Sandra offered to head back for the fins, but I said, no, I can just snorkel in bare feet and stay close to the entry.   As the bay didn't seem very rough on this sunny morning, she agreed that this was an acceptable idea.

    After I was dropped off, it took only a moment to get down to the water.  I certainly wasn't troubled by those pesky flippers.  I put on my mask and flattened out in the shallow entry.  The first thing I noticed was that the water was a lot warmer and I thought, "Gail DeLuke will be happy to hear about this."   I then noticed that the water was quite cloudy and immediately there after I realized that,while I was entering a set must have come in and, despite the water being rather shallow, I was moving right along, perhaps at a mile an hour.

   As I approached the final narrow entry,  it was easy to tell that the current was going to take me a foot or so to the left of that rocky cut through which one usually maneuvers.  I had a couple inches of water beneath me, so despite my lack of any choice in the matter, I wasn't all that concerned.

A Hawksbill Turtle

   So.  Do you remember as a child when you used an inner tube on a snowy slope?  Of course, you were zipping down the mountain with no choice whatsoever  as to your course.  Gravity and the terrain
were calling the shots.  And if someone appeared in front of you, and you and your inner tube knocked them ass over tea kettle, well, who was to blame?  Can you see where this is going?

    Suddenly a large lady appeared right in front of me.  She was sitting on the lava about a foot to the left of the narrow entry.  Possibly she was fiddling with her fins.  All I knew was that I had no steering, smashed into her uncontrollably and was dragged around her by the current.  As I was swept away, I managed a quick apology.  My victim, as it turned out, was unconcerned; her bulk was such that  I don't think the collision moved her a millimeter.

The ground of the Keahou Beach Hotel are being reworked.

    Following my collision, I noted a bit of discomfort in my left foot, but otherwise I was fine.  And so I puttered around the shallows for twenty minutes, seeing nothing of special interest and then I clawed my way back in.   In the shower there was a fellow with a large camera and when asked, he said that he had taken multiple pictures of a hawksbill turtle, which was hanging out by the surfers.  He noted that the lifeguard had yelled at him through his electric megaphone, but hey, its a hawksbill turtle for crying out loud.  We both got a laugh out of that.

    Sandra drove me home past the now developing remnant of the Keahou Beach Hotel.  We have heard a variety of rumors and there is still no sign to tell us what the razed hotel grounds will become.  but at last there is some action.

   Before I boarded my ride home, I noticed that my left great toe was bleeding.  After we got back to the ranch,  I did a little gardening and when I took off my shoes and socks about a quarter of my left

Barred Filefish Juvenile, the familiar of St. Anthony. August 2016 Kailua Pier

great toenail came with it.  Bummer.

    It turns out this is not as bad an injury as I initially thought. After a few days of dressing changes and careful cleaning, I decided that I was going to live.  And it was time to go snorkeling.  Always one for multi-tasking, I loaded the yard debris and family rubbish in the car and stopped at the transfer station.  It was SRO at the dump , in large part because it was time to tamp the yard debris.  A swarthy fellow maneuvers a backhoe against the railing, raises it onto large hydraulic braces and then maneuvers the inverted scoop into the bin, tamping down the stumps and leaves.  Its quite a show.  I was thinking how much my grandson would enjoy this, vis a vis the terrifying ocean.  During the intermission I ran our bags and boxes to one of the nearby trash receptacles.  Back at the car, with the tamping complete, I threw in a banana stump and some monstera leaves.

    Back in Kailua, the parking lot above the shops was full, so I exercised Plan B, which had me parking for snorkeling at the Big Island Grill.  As I disembarked, I searched the back seat for the bag that contained my shorts, towel  and swim socks.  It was nowhere to be found, so I called Sandra (isn't this why God invented cell phones?) to verify that the bag wasn't at home... that I had, indeed, thrown my shorts and towel into the dumpster.  Bummer again!

St Anthony: Find your snorkel and teach your son to watch fish.

    Luckily, God also invented our emergency bag, so I plucked a dry swimsuit and towel and was on my way.  The sea on the Ironman side was cool and cloudy, which is not surprising since the surf is up and it has been raining almost every night. I only saw one good fish on this swim, the spotted juvenile of the barred filefish.  Those of you who are long time followers of the blog might recall that the last time I saw this unusual juvenile, I lost the so-called decorative face plate to my Canon T3.  It is possible, especially in this context, that the barred filefish juvenile is somehow related to St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost things.  For example. shorts, socks and camera parts.

   The rest of my swim proceeded uneventfully, no unusual fish, but no collisions or lost paraphernalia, either.  Back on the beach the people were friendly and I managed to get home without further mishap.

    Well, alls well that ends well.  Until I inadvertently throw my swimsuit or snorkel mask into the dumpster, you will find me at the beach looking for the next fish.  And now that the water is getting warmer, you may find Sandra, as well.