Christmas Day 2020. The Legend of the Christmas Wrasse Continues

Los Angeles Smog in the 70s.

    Christmas Day dawned clear and bright in the way they used to have clear days in Los Angeles.  If you looked straight up the sky was blue.  If you looked off into the distance it was quite hazy.  As we drove down to the village, we could barely discern the horizon as we looked out over the ocean.  In California engineers have improved both the gasoline and the car engines that burn it.  The smog is reduced dramatically.  If one stands on the Santa Monica pier and looks out over the Pacific, one can usually see the horizon without difficulty. Perhaps we should ship a few of those engineers over to Hilo and see if they can improve the volcano.

    The surf had been really high all over Hawaii for several days and so most of the places where we would go snorkeling were out of the question.  Kailua Bay frequently escapes the worst of the swell, so it was our intent to start in front of the King Kamehameha Hotel and swim out as far as it was safe.  This might be only as far as the small jetty that protects the Inner Harbour and the king's heiau.  At least we would have a chance at the Christmas Wrasse.

Christmas surf explodes on the lava beach photo Charlene Amsden

     As we got in the water, it was immediately apparent that visibility was going to be an issue.  On the other hand, there wasn't nearly as much wave action in Kailua Bay as we had feared.   By the heiau, we encountered a large whitemouth moray; that was the best fish in the harbor.  There was little in the way of fish both inside the jetty and around the rocks on the outside.  As we swam through the waves on the way to Paul Allen's estate, I was wondering how I would write a  blog with a humble whitemouth as the Christmas centerpiece.  

    We swam past the estate and were just preparing to make the turn onto the outer reef when things picked up.  First, we both saw a small Christmas wrasse.  Although he was only about nine inches, he had full adult coloration, albeit in a small package.  To document mission accomplished I started fishing the camera out of my pocket. By the time I had the camera ready to go, the Christmas wrasse had disappeared, never to be seen again.  In his place however, was a similarly sized fish.  And this one had a yellow flank!

Five Stripe Wrasse on the PAR, Christmas Day 2020.

    This was indeed a male Five Stripe Wrasse.  Over the last couple of years, if we wanted to see a five stripe wrasse, all we had to do was go to Mahukona.  Out on the north cusp, they are almost a sure thing.  I'm including the picture of the five stripe male we encountered on Christmas Day.  I have a similar picture from Mahukona back in early August.   

    At Mahukona juveniles and females are seen more commonly than the breeding males. When we do see a male there are always females around as well. Assuming one wants more of these special wrasses, this is a good thing.  Down here in Kailua, I have never seen but one fish at a time. Out on Paul Allen's reef,  over many years, I have seen less than a handful and they have all been males.  On a couple of occasions I have seen females either inside the little jetty or just outside.  I

Five Stripe Wrasse, Paul Allen's Reef, 2014

have never seen males and females together.  Unlike at Mahukona, the Five Stripe Wrasse probably doesn't breed here and those individuals are just visitors that have swum in for a brief visit.

    The best picture I have of a five Stripe Wrasse is from the spring of 2014 way out on the PAR.  The water was a little cloudy, but one can take care of that with a little extra contrast.  The light was  very good, but there is no substitute for a drop dead gorgeous fish.  Don't you wish you had one like this to hang on your Christmas tree?  

   So Mele Kalikimaka from the land where the setting sun looks like a blood orange as it sinks into the vog and the gibbous moon looks like an egg yolk floating in a glass of skim milk.  Of course, the palm trees are still swaying by the beach, so things are actually pretty wonderful.

Merry Christmas,

jeff

Madame Pele Comes For Christmas or Voggy Kalikimaka

    Yesterday morning I arose early, as I often do.  First thing, I repaired to the computer to satisfy an urgent need regarding Jupiter aligning with Saturn, which we were told would take place that very night, the night of the Winter Solstice. Using all my minimal computer skills I was able to deduce that one should find the moon (how hard is that?), follow a straight line down to the horizon, which in our case is the ocean, trace a line north about ten degrees, look back up about the width of your thumb and...Voila! ..the aligned planets.  All this while I was humming The Age of Aquarius quietly to myself.  Everyone else was asleep and preferred to keep it that way.

     Well, with that astronomical project put to bed I ceased my humming and checked in with my email. Right at the top of the stack was something from Kathy and Vernon, presumably snowbound in their house in the Oregon forest: 

       Woke up to the news about Kilauea! Can you see the action? 

      Well, I had woken to the sounds of the Fifth Dimension thrumming in my temporal lobe, and it was still dark out, so I could only guess at what might be happening. Only a moment later Sandra exclaimed from the nearby boudoir, "Kilauea is erupting!" 

     This might be good news for somebody, but it isn't for us.  We have had all the vocanic eruptions that we can stomach.  Vog, vog go away, Little Sandra wants to be able to see the beach from her lanai.  Just last week as we drove north to our rendezvous with the Surge Wrasse the air was so clear that we could see Maui from the airport, an event unthinkable only two years ago.    

    An hour later the sun had come up.  The sky was blue without a trace of  haziness.  Sandra had read that a vog plume was blowing west and people in Oceanview, a mere 45 miles to the south, were admonished to stay inside.  Supposedly they were already wearing masks and one might expect that masks would be helpful if one wanted to avoid inhaling volcanic particles.  But remember, this is Oceanview, the closest thing we have to the wild west on the  leeward side of the Big Island, so its possible that there aren't any, excuse me, ain't no masks in Oceanview.  Plenty of MAGA banners, though.

    It being Monday, which is to say not the weekend, which is deemed unsafe, I made my way down the hill to Kahalu'u a bit after 9 AM.  As I drove down Sunset I could make out a little surf on Lyman's, with surfers the size of ants catching the waves.  

     At Kahalu'u there were a few small waves traversing the bay, but they were dwarfed by the throng.  I found myself a table in the shelter and began to change, but I proved to be a magnet for a gentleman reef teacher who was determined to be the swizzle stick at this beach side super spreader event. 

   Soon enough the Stick and I parted company and I was in the bay.  It being winter, I'm wearing a neoprene vest, so the water, which Tides For Fishing tells us is 79 degrees, is still quite tolerable. The water was fairly clear and there was a moderate number of fish, but an even greater number of seagoing tourists.  

    I swam for about an hour and returned to shore about 10:30.   I had thought that there were a lot of tourists before, but the intervening hour had swelled their numbers.  Its Christmas in Kailua, with all of the tourists here.  I dressed quickly, avoiding the human swizzle stick and made it to the car, hopefully virus free.

    Back at Casa Ono, my sweetie and I shared a lunch and then, being an old gopher, I took a nap. When I awoke, things had changed.  There was now a plume of vog fluffing up the southern horizon.  Through the afternoon this increased to the extent that most of the sky above our ocean view was quite hazy.  It became dark about 6:30.  At 7 when we went out to look for the planets, we could see the moon way up in the sky but the horizon was vogged in up to about 20 degrees.  So much for the Age of Aquarius.  Its more like the return of Madame Pele.

 jeff 

Kawaihae Alert!

     Over the years, this blog has, among other things, promoted the beaches where one can interact safely with the fish and critters.  Part of this, unfortunately, involves interacting with our fellow human beings.  Yesterday we were alerted to a change that has rapidly evolved at the Kawaihaae Harbor surf park.  

   Currently two belligerent homeless people have taken up daily residence in the park.  One is a young woman who may be psychotic.  She is prone to verbal abuse at the top of her lungs and this may be directed against you.  The second is a middle age man who is frankly sociopathic.  He is threatening and aggressive.  Although our correspondent did not know of an instance in which this gentleman has actually hit someone, the threat of physical violence seems imminent.

     This surf park is separated from Waimea, from which police might be summoned, by thirty minutes.  This makes it different from the Kailua Pier, which now has a considerable contingent of disturbed homeless people, but is quite close to peace keeping authorities.

    Kawaihae remains an excellent place to see a unique cast of critters, but for the time being, if you go for the nudibranchs be prepared to maintain a low profile.  

jeff

High As the Pie in an Octopus' Eye

    With an eye on the surf conditions, both current and impending, we went swimming yesterday at Kahalu'u.  The Stormsurf wave predictor said that it would be rough today, so it made sense to swim yesterday.  As I looked down from our lanai this morning, the sea was like glass.  So much for Stormsurf.  As it turned out, though, yesterday was a pretty good day to go snorkeling.  

   We got to Kahalu'u in the mid-morning.  The bay was just a bit bumpy and there were plenty of snorkelers coming and going through the narrow entrance.  The reef teachers were in their moment of glory, giving instructions to the tourists who are now here in increasing numbers. 

The Day Octopus looks back at us through his slit iris.

  I had been swimming for only a few minutes when I passed over a small octopus working his way
into a crevice in the rocky reef.  This fellow was brick red and didn't change color for the ten minutes that we kept an eye on one another.  I took several pictures of this guy.  He was harboring in a small crease in the rock, so he was unable to get any further away from me without breaking cover and swimming to a new spot.  I had a great view of his eyes and at least one arm that lay in front of his body.  I gradually worked my way in with sequential pictures and one movie.  I would show you the movie, which is of fair quality, but the only movement involved is me shifting position by virtue of the current; the octopus is holding perfectly still , sort of defying the purpose of a moving picture. Finally I closed to within three feet away and took the flash picture you see here.  It certainly gives you a great look at his eye and the arm in front.  

   Isn't it interesting that while an ungulate, like a cow or sheep has a rectangular iris and a predator like a wolf has a round iris, the octopus seems to make do with a slit.  Teleological thinkers propose that in sheep,, that rectangular iris permits them to better see predators.  Who can say how it works for this amazing cephalopod that is clearly a predator. 

Tiger Cowry, Cyprea tigris.  Kahalu'u December 2020

  Our friends at wikipedia tell us that the slit in the octopus eye always remains horizontal.  If you become disoriented and don't know which way is up, you can always take a clue from the eye of a nearby octopus!

    Mr. Octopus had withstood all my ministrations, so he received a nice song praising him as the incarnation of the Holy ghost.

    Another five minutes yielded this nice cowry.  This is almost certainly a tiger cowry, Cyprea tigris.   Mike Severns in Hawaiian Seashells, shows a dark cowry with a base of dark, rich caramel on top which float dark chocolate spots.  If one only had that photograph he might be hard pressed to identify this handsome cowry.  John Hoover shows two tigers side by side, one similar to Mike's and the other much lighter, still with the dark spots.  The cowry you see here was much lighter than either of Hoover's pair.

   John tells us that in the good old days,  larger tiger cowries were found in Hawaii. This individual was about 120 mm, which is about as large as Severns states that they get.   Apparently in the past they ranged up to six inches, a good 10% larger.  That would be as big as mature honeydew melon.  A month or two ago our friend Hai had honeydew melons growing in his garden by the Kawaihae Surf Park.

Old Mr. Blue Eyes, The Elegant Hermit Crab, Kahalu'u December 2020

  Next time we are up there I will have to bring along my calipers and find out if Hai's melons are as big as John Hoover's Tiger cowries.

    Hoover notes that these cowries are seen frequently because they are too large to hide effectively.

    Well, that made for two nice invertebrates, so different from one another yet both molluscs. I headed towards the Rescue Shelter, hoping to find a Christmas wrasse or two on the reef where the surf pounds in.  As you know, if you have been shopping lately, its almost Christmas, the day when we search for the eponymous wrasse.  Before I made it all the way across the bay I spotted a large triton shell attempting to look inconspicuous in a coral depression.  Well, good luck with that when Captain Hermit is on the prowl.  I flipped over the triton and in short order a large Elegant Hermit Crab made his presence  known. We had found a shallow depression that shielded my quarry from the current and got several nice pictures of the hermit before he flipped himself back.  Some day I would like to take a movie of such a handsome hermit emerging and then making the long reach to flip himself.  On this

2020 has been a Grinch of a year.  2021 will be better!

daythere was just too much current to hold the camera still/.  Never the less, this is nice picture showing the long antennae which are used as feelers and the central, club-like antennulae which are used for taste.   

   Back ashore the Reef Teachers were happy to look at my pictures.  With any luck the next time we are at K Bay they will be wearing Santa hats and there will be Christmas Wrasses galore.

Jeff

The Kahalu'u Dragon

       So often with wildlife photography, I find that what God gives me is the best.  For example, I remember a a few years ago out by the last swim buoy at the Kona pier,when a school of ordinarily frenetic opelu stopped at a cleaning station right in front of me.  Another time two male Pearl Wrasse, an unusual and skittish fish to say the least, appeared languidly by the Menehune breakwater.  You can't force these things...they just have to happen.

Running with the hounds.  Crocodile Needlefish, December 2020  K Bay

      Yesterday at Kahalu'u I enjoyed a trio of Crocodile Needlefish, aka Houndfish, were swimming by in clear water.   Both species of needlefish have become far more scarce than they ought to be.  The water was clear and I got the nice picture you see here. 

    A moment later something truly special occurred.  We see dragon wrasse every now and then.  Its a peculiar looking fish with a highly unusual behavior.   It flops in the water in a manner that many authors say imitates drifting seaweed.  You have undoubtedly grown tired of these descriptions.  Dragon wrasse is just unusual enough that I seem to mention every one I see.  Yesterday in relatively clear water I encountered a larger dragon wrasse, possibly between three and four inches.  I took a chance and started a video.  Surprisingly, he did his dance for the full twenty seconds that this medium allows.  Extraordinary!  So here is the clip and for those of you who have never seen a dragon wrasse, you now know what all the fuss is about.

 So what did you think?  Did she look like a piece of seaweed twirling in the current?

  Sandra thought it would be nice if we spoke just a bit about Rockmovers, in as much as the Dragon Wrasse is the juvenile of that species..  I suppose that if Barney Rubble kept a salt water aquarium he would definitely have a pair of Rockmovers and, nature is hard to deny, a Dragon Wrasse, as well. 

The adolescent Rockmover just being a kid.

    Adolescent Rockmovers are comical.  They have the houndstooth coat of the adults, but they can't quite stop behaving like a keiki.  They swim a little bit, maybe turn over a rock or two, then they stop for a flip flop.  At this stage they still have those two long antennae that are the first and second spines of their dorsal fin, and the dramatic radial face pattern

     In July of this year I was lucky enough to photograph a Rockmover super male.  As you can see, this old silverback is much different.  He has shed his houndstooth coat and no longer needs a face pattern.  He is all business.  If you don't swim at Kahalu'u, or some other place where Rockmovers are common, it is unlikely you will see one like this. 

The Supermale Rockmover.  July 2020  Kahalu'u

   Well,  do you have an irresistible urge to move some rocks?  Perhaps we can get Barney and Fred to put in a good word for you with Mr. Slate.  They might even make you an honorary Water Buffalo.  In the meantime, stay young and playful like a dragon wrasse.

jeff

Yubba Dubba Do!

Mahukona: A Surge Wrasse on Steroids

     Friday being the last day of the week that we have designated safe for snorkeling in the age of Covid, we decided to do something special.  After packing a lunch, we headed north to Mahukona. It was a beautiful day up on the Kohala coast, with Maui rising like an enormous whale to the north.  If our idea

A perfect morning at Mahukona.

was to stay virus free by avoiding a crowd we had failed.  I have never seen more cars in the area by the pier, or more people swimming.  Not surprisingly, among the multitude was Wendy Noritake, our friend form Hawi.   She and two friends were putting on their wet suits when I went to say hello.

     As we were getting ready to swim, Sandra reminded me that I had received a notification about Kathy Yoder's birthday.  On her visit exactly one year ago, we had brought her and her brother up to Mahukona.  The water was just a little rough yesterday.  A year ago the surge had been significant.  I texted Kathy the picture you see here, wished her a happy birthday and asked if she remembered Mahukona.  This was a bit like asking Amos the Mouse (from that wonderful Goldenbook classic, Ben and Me) if he remembered his ride in the kite into the lightening storm.  Her reply, "I remember holding on for dear life, clutching to that ladder!" 

A trio of Sidespot Goatfish, Mahukona December 2020

   Well, yesterday wasn't nearly that rough and Sandra and I got in with no problem.  The water wasn't as clear as one might like, but in the bay we saw a myriad of Sidespot Goatfish and at least one adolescent Pinktail Triggerfish with an orange tail.  

   Soon we were out on the north cusp where the swell was crashing over the ragged rocks.  We watched a large yellow trumpetfish mingling with a school of yellow tangs and then swam towards the reef.

    Suddenly right in front of me there was a huge Surge Wrasse.  I had the camera in my hand and, although he fled over the shallow reef, I was able to squeeze off three shots before he disappeared into the foaming bubbles.  To get the last picture, which was nothing special to look at, I had followed him over the lip of the rocks and found myself in a wave swept rocky depression from which I was able to extricate

Surge Wrasse male,  Mahukona, December 2020

myself with only one bump to my thigh.

   Sandra was lucky enough to see the beautiful beast a couple minutes later.  When she last saw it, it was heading deep.  We patrolled the rocky reef for another ten minutes, finding nothing, but glad that we had both had a good look.

    The Surge Wrasse is Hawaii's largest wrasse.  And a full grown breeding male may be one of the most colorful fish in the world.  After my first glimpse of the fish, I knew that I had to get a look at the face pattern.  The big difference from the standpoint of coloration between Surge Wrasse and the smaller and more common Christmas Wrasse, is a lack of face pattern in the latter.   Not only did this fish have green and red markings so bright that one might have thought they were made from foil ribbon, he had  rich purple and red face markings.

     A picture is worth a thousand words, and my three pictures, although adequate for the identification, do not begin to show the colorful markings.  And so you are also being treated to a picture from

Surge Wrasse Thalassoma purpureum  December 2020

pinterest.  In the parking lot after the swim I was delighted to see that I had three pictures.  Only when I got home and got the pictures on the computer, did I find how little color was visible.  Bummer.  I've spent the last day trying to figure out why there is so little color in my pictures.  Apparently I was much further away from the fish than I thought.  Although it was a clear day, it was morning and maybe the light wasn't so strong.  The water was a little cloudy and the fish was, indeed, fast moving.  I still don't get it.

     Once every two or three years I see a smaller male Surge Wrasse at the outer limit of the Inner Harbour, at the end of the small jetty that protects Kamehameha's heiau at the King Kam Hotel..  The water there is inevitably turbulent and cloudy.  So I have seen these face markings before, but they never looked half as impressive. 

     The rest of our swim produced things that one would expect to see at Mahukona:  Bluestripe and Milletseed butterflies, female Regal Parrotfish and Thompson's Surgeon.  I checked in with Wendy before we hit the road, and she, too, had seen the Surge Wrasse.  Her look was so fleeting that she did

Surge Wrasse courtesy of Pinterest

not have time to attempt a photo.  (In addition to being an author, Wendy is a skilled underwater photographer.  If you have a chance to see her pictures you should not miss the opportunity.)   

   On the drive home, Sandra was looking through John Hoover's first book.  She noted that he placed the maximum length for a Surge Wrasse at 16 inches.  Posing this as a question to me, I said that I thought our fish must have been twenty.  The books say that the male Ember Parrotfish, the closest thing we have to a really large wrasse, maxes out at 28 inches.  The old expression is that water magnifies 25% and your imagination does the rest.  Regardless, this was no small fish.  Look at the size of his lips and the hump on his back.  What a beast!  We see lots of juvenile Surge Wrasses; when you look at this guy, you have an inkling about who be their daddy.  Woof.

   Here's another interesting question: Was this the biggest wrasse we have ever seen?   If I'm asking the question you are guessing that the answer is no.  Well, the biggest wrasse we have ever seen was six years ago in Tulamben.  Located on the southeast coast of Bali, and the site of the wreck dive US

The Napoleon Wrasse,  Cheilinus undulatus.  Tulamben November 2014

Liberty, this is a fantastic place to watch fish.  On that November day Sandra and I saw the Napoleon Wrasse.  Going by a variety of names, including Maori Wrasse and Humphead Wrasse, this fish does not look like any wrasse you have ever seen.  It is, on the other hand, big and ugly.  Perhaps we should call it bubba.  If you go drunk drivin' in Bali, you gonna spend the night in a cell with bubba.  The picture I'm including shows your old friend the Orangespine Unicornfish for comparison.  That unicorn is not a small fish, but bubba makes him look like a guppy.   Supposedly Cheilinus undulatus can grow up to 7 feet in length, if you like metric, that's over 200 cm.  As far as I can tell, this is the only wrasse that is greater than 2 1/2 feet in length.  A true aberration.

    We have nothing like the Napoleonfish here in Hawaii.  For now, our Surge Wrasse will do nicely.  

jeff

An original Disney drawing of Amos and the kite. 

The Kiekis of Kahalu'u

You'll Shoot Your Eye Out.

    Over the past week we have been snorkeling a few times.  At Kawaihae we saw all the usual fish and critters.  We did, however, have a human interaction that was  both peculiar and unfortunate.  As Sandra and I entered on the far side of the ramp, there was a family fishing nearby.  When we were still near the LST landing platform, one of the boys cast over Sandra's head.  His father, who clearly needed a mental  health day,  then started yelling at my sweetie for interfering with his son's fishing. As the son of sea biscuit wouldn't stop his harangue, I swam back to shore and told him if he didn't knock it off I was going back to our car, get my Red Ryder 200 shot BB gun and return to shoot his eye out.  And I was bringing Ralphie for back up.  After all, it is Christmas time.  Mele kalikimaka, ...  (At this point if you are so inclined you may add your own pejorative expletive.)

     While the last bit was apocryphal, it was an unfortunate incident.  Ordinarily everyone gets along great at Kawaihae.

    Native fishing rights put to rest, we went on to see the usual nudibranchs and sea fans and caught a quick glimpse of the citron butterflyfish, which was needed of this year's list.  The Citron is a pretty unusual fish for Hawaii and this individual has now been in residence at Kawaihai for over a year.  If you need it for your list, the area makai of the platforms comes highly recommended.

    A few days later I went swimming at the pier.  Although we had a bit of a streak going in November, the last couple swims at the pier have been sadly unproductive.  I did get this nice shot of Christmastree Hydroids.  This small colony has been growing on the rocks by the cruise ship landing for well over a decade.  Before we discovered Kawaihae, finding a patch of hydroids was a special event.  Although this species and a couple others are seen under the platforms at Kawaihae Harbor, this bunch is

Hydra melekalikimakii  Hill and Gray 1997

especially pretty.  Hoover asks us to admire the black stocks.  Each of the white tufts, which John says resemble Christmas ornaments, is a single polyp.  Perhaps most interesting, he tells us that this hydroid can sting; the irritation may be intense and persist for several hours.  This little bit of nature lore may com in handy the next time you get in a dispute over native fishing rights. 

    Over the last five days there has been great surfing conditions, which meant that we weren't gong snorkeling. Finally, today the surf came down some and I enjoyed a swim at Kahalu'u.  Considering that tourists are now welcome on Hawaii Island, given a strict testing protocol which one would be foolish to attempt to circumvent, there were relatively few people plying the bumpy waters K Bay.  

   And yes, commensurate with the surf there was a significant current.  This was immediately apparent as I was swept out of the sand channel into the bay.  I found myself swimming continuously to maintain my position, which throughout the day made photography more of a challenge.  Luckily the water was fairly clear and there were some fish about.  

Island Goatfish juvenile,  Parupeneus insularis Kona, Hi.

    Right away, in the rocks near the entry, I saw a dragon wrasse.  He was of the chocolate brown persuasion about three inches in length.  As he was doing the sea debris flop in about three feet of water, I thought this might make a nice bit of film.  Unfortunately, by the time I triggered the camera he slithered under his rock, never to return.  Sort of like Charlie and the MTA.  Won't somebody give that fish one more nickel?  

   This is one of my favorite old songs, performed by a group from Seattle, and I entreat you to access the link and sing along with the Kingston Trio while you continue with the blog.  It may enhance your enjoyment to know tht all of Charlie's relatives live in towns of the Boston metropolitan area that were far from desirable at the time the song was written.  It could well be that paces like Roxbury and Jawaica Plain are now gentrified.

  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S7Jw_v3F_Q0

   Nearby, in the same group of rocks, was a not uncommon and very handsome juvenile, the keiki of what I have thought was the Manybar Goatfish.  This fish is seen routinely in Kona, but nobody, not Hoover, Randall. Stender, nor anyone on the web, has this fish pictured.  Lacking confidence in my identification, I wrote to John Hoover, the Visionary of  Volcano, to verify that this was indeed P. multifasciatus.  

Island Goatfish juvenile.  P. insularis Kahalu'u 12/20

 In the Ultimate Guide John Hoover writes eloquently about the adult multifasciatus, how he changes colors while you watch from black to purple to red, and how he hunts with eels and octopuses.  But he does not mention the juvenile.  Multifasciatus is widely distributed throughout the pacific.  It seemed reasonable that someone ought to know about this.

   Just as this blog was about to go to the printer, I received a reply from the VoV.  He sent me a page that showed both the adult Island Goatfish and the juvenile you see here.  We can now say this is the juvenile of the Island Goatfish, P. insularis.   In older books, like my copy of Shore Fishes... by Jack Randall, this species was known as the Doublebar Goatfish, P bifasciatus. .  

   Needless to say, I asked John Hoover where that page came from so you can rush out and buy it.  This is what he said: 

    It was from my iPad app, but unfortunately that one is no longer available. It couldn't keep up with Apple's changing technical requirements. However, it has been replaced by two iPhone apps. One for snorkelers and one for scuba divers. The snorkeler one omits the deeper dwelling fish. The scuba one

shows all the common fish, shallow and deep. And some rare ones too. The iPhone apps work beautifully on iPads. These are for Apple devices only. No Android versions planned. I just sent you a screenshot from the iphone app.‎Scuba Fish Hawaii on the App Store (apple.com)

  So if you have an iPad, I would advise that you rush out and buy this app.  Obviously I don't have an iPad and perhaps no rushing is required...maybe you do it from the comfort of your Apple approved desk unit.  Who knows?

    While the swimming was interesting, there being a current with which to contend, we went a while without seeing more than a small whitemouth moray poking his nose out of an Evermann's coral.  Heading over towards the Rescue Shelter, I ran across a very interesting group of baby fish.  Here, in a patch of light colored sand and rock, all within a few feet, I found six tiny rectangular triggerfish. These guys ranged from one to one and a half inches.  Although the colors weren't intense, in some instances the fish were almost translucent, they were marked precisely like adults.

Rectangular Triggerfish, tiny juvenile Kahalu'u December 20

    One might think that the middle of winter is an odd time for baby fish to hatch, but one can only assume that this was the case here.Those of us who snorkel around Hawaii have, at some point or another, been attacked by a female humuhumu guarding her eggs.  John Hoover confirms my recollection stating that these attacks by adult females and sightings of tiny, pale juveniles occur in the summer months.  In that respect, this was an interesting observation.  

    

Rectangular Triggerfish, tiny juvenile, face on. December 20

   

   

For those of you who have never been charged by a triggerfish, I am including this short clip from April of 2019.  here you see a lagoon triggerfish charging.  Both our humuhumus engage in this behavior.  Such is the nature of my computer files that this is the best I can do at this time... I know I have a video of a rectangular charging somewhere.  I think it gives you the general idea.  And I hope it gives you the willies. If you don't back off they will bite!

   One might have thought that after a creche full of infant triggerfish that we had had our fill of pediatric fishes.  But no!  As I made one final circuit up the middle I came upon a small coral where a juvenile Hawaiian Cleaner Wrasse, he of the blue streak, was holding court.   This little blue streak is a perfect example of ontogeny recapitulating phylogeny.  The closely related cleaner wrasse of the Indo-

Hawaiian Cleaner Wrasse juvenile and Orangespine Unicorns

Pacific is known as the blue streak.  the adult has little blue and the species is named for the juvenile, which looks much like the juvenile HCW.  

   I got one mediocre photo of the baby cleaner wrasse working on the gills of  an orange spine unicornfish.  There were several of these comical appearing fish at the cleaning station, all getting their gills worked on.  Perhaps the little cleaner was running a special on air filters.  After taking my still picture, I dove down to my handhold on a nearby coral stump and tried for a movie.  I didn't get the cleaner wrasse, but perhaps you will find the peek-a-boo movements of the unicornfish amusing.

May your days be merry and bright and may all your sharks be Great White,

jeff

Addendum:  After an exhaustive review of my movie files I found a better movie of the female Lagoon Triggerfish charging.  and here it is:

The Ring-billed Gull Comes to Kawaihae

    Last Thursday our friend Hai, sent me a text message.  He had discovered a gull in Kawaihae and was hoping I could help to identify it.  Why I didn't head north the following morning is a puzzle to me even now.  Certainly I was involved in a home improvement project, but this was  a seagull in Hawaii, for crying out loud! 

    Hai"s first picture was of an immature gull sitting:  light gray mantle, speckled breast, pinkish feet and and a black tip on a light yellow bill.   I knew that immature gulls were difficult to identify.  Most species change plumage annually for their first two or three winters.   Because my brother back on Camano Island poses the occasional bird identification puzzler, I have my parent's copy of Birds of

Singer helped identify this Camano Island owl.

North America, illustrated by the immortal Arthur Singer, in the bookshelf, in our Hawaii Room. Certainly Hai's bird looked like a second year Ring-billed Gull, but we needed to see the tail to firm up the identification.  

      Reasoning that gulls, like jet aeroplanes, could fly in from mainland North America or Japan, I retrieved a copy of Birds of Japan from the bookshelf in the ohana.  The first thing I noticed was that the illustrator, Shinji Takano, was no Arthur Singer.  As it turns out, juvenile Mew Gulls, which are similar to ring bills, but have a more gracile bill and a darker breast, are found in both America and Japan.  The only other larger gull that might fit the bill, as it were, is the Black-tailed Gull, which even in it first plumage has, you guessed it, a black tail. 

    By Friday we were getting a handle on the home improvement project, and Hai was out taking movies.  His clip of the gull flying showed a black band with a terminal white fringe on the tail.  The following link gives you several of Hai's excellent photos, and a video of the gull taking wing from the LST landing ramp, and flying over the harbor.  After watching this, there could be no doubt that he had found a ring-billed gull.

https://photos.app.goo.gl/LGXyuTwdbYYJds9D7

    Sandra and I made it to Kawaihae early Monday morning.  As we drove by the harbor, she spotted the gull sitting on a rock fifteen yards off the beach.  We parked and walked down.  We kicked off our

The Ring-billed Gull holds court at Kawaihae Harbor  Nov. 2020

sandals and waded into the pleasantly cool harbor water.  The gull allowed us to approach and we watched him for ten minutes at close range.  Finally he grew tired of us and flew off, displaying that banded tail.  Identification confirmed, we motored up to the little park where we met Peter and our non-snorkeling friends Rick and Joy.

  That I had never seen a gull in Hawaii is perhaps best explained by my lack of connection to the bird watching community.  Birding on Hawaii is different.  As it is almost impossible to see a new bird, once you have done the work to see what is here, the birding community is not as prevalent as elsewhere.  Also, during much of the year, it's awfully hot for bird watching, especially at sea level.

   After returning home, I called my one contact that might know about unusual birds on our enchanted isle.  Patrick Hart is a professor at UH HIlo in the department of biology.  That the University of Hawaii (Hilo or Manoa) does not have a Department of Zoology and not a single ornithologist is somewhat surprising.  Pat is conversant in all terrestrial animals.  I met him through my butterfly project and he let it slip that he was also, perhaps even more so, interested in birds.  

   No good deed goes unpunished and so Pat was on the spot.  He immediately debunked my idea that

Patrick Hart out watching butterflies and birds.

gulls are extremely rare in Hawaii. A few gulls come every winter and are seen and well documented.    In fact, during the residency of the ring bill at Kawaihae, a second ring bill and a Glaucous-winged gull were seen at the sewage treatment plant in Kailua.  Pat directed me to a site called e-birds Hawaii, which is part of a larger site run by Cornell Laboratories.  One needs to sign up, after which they have access to sightings posted by other members. Sure enough, the birds at the sewage treatment plant were right there on the screen.  

   Like birdwatchers around the world,  I am well acquainted with sewage treatment plants.  Many years ago my dog, Freckles, scrambled under the fence at the plant near Tillamook, taking a plunge in the noxious brew.  On another day I shepherded Mrs Ochoa's den of Cub scouts, birding the ponds near Dallas, Oregon.   And yet, the Kealakehe Sewage treatment plant has escaped me.  How can this be?

   As eBirds Hawaii shows us, there are plenty of transient visitations by gulls.  Pat pointed out that the gulls tend not to stay long and apparently no one knows where they go.  Doesn't it seem odd that no ornithological grad student has slapped a transmitter on a couple of these vagrants and followed them out to sea? In any event, and despite clear evidence that members of the same species have landed on Hawaii Island at the same time, the archipelago has no breeding colonies of gulls. 

    Self proclaimed experts have written articles that speculate, in the manner of a sophomore ornithology student, about the reason for this.  There is a common misconception that only tube nose birds, albatross and their allies, can excrete a large salt load.  Since 1958 ornithologists have known that many families of birds, including shorebirds and ducks possess salt excreting glands and can, if necessary, live off seawater.  Up till researching this blog,  I suffered under that delusion and this was the reason I favored.  

    Another theory states that gulls are unable to find proper nutrition in Hawaiian waters.  If you look on the rock upon which we found the Kawaihae ring bill, I believe we can state without question that he was well fed.  Anyone who has pitched french fries to a hovering gull knows that they will eat almost anything.  With all the tourists in Hawaii, there is no excuse for a gull to go hungry.

    Can it be that there are no suitable places for gulls to nest?  Petrels and albatross, which in many respects resemble gulls, nest in Hawaii.  A few shorebirds, like the wandering tattler, nest in Hawaii, as do a few ducks. I think that there is something else, not yet defined, that causes the gulls to move on.  Our friend Hai is an extraordinary man who brings a holistic peace to Kawaihae Harbor.  Perhaps the ring-billed gull will sense this, choose to stay and tell his friends.  Until then, I guess we will have to make the occasional trip to the Kealakehe Sewage Treatment plant.  

jeff

Thanks to Marine biologist Susan Scott who wrote an excellent article on gulls for the Honolulu Star-Bulletin.

The bird is a Barred Owl...at least as far as I'm concerned.

  

The Mixed Feeding Flock

Painted Nudibranch Kawaihae  November 2020

    Last Friday we met our friends at Kawaihae.  It is  a shame to be so jaded by the wonders of this place that two species of nudibranchs and a handsome brown sea fan waving amid some fine living coral has become sort of ho hum. In fact, you guys are being exposed to a plethora of nudibranch and seafan pictures and you may be getting bored with them, as well.  Shame on all of us! 

    Of these wonders, I'm sharing a picture of a small painted nudibranch, less than an inch in length, that was captured in remarkable focus, and a video of the feather duster worm, nestled among the living coral, waving back and forth in the  gentle swell.  If you work it just right, perhaps you can play this video while you go to sleep and it will usher you peacefully into the land of nod.

    (Due to the vagaries of this medium the video of the tube worm appears at the end of the blog.)

   The pillars where the nudibranchs live are covered with sponges, hydroids and a variety of other so called fouling organisms.  By and large these all look like plants.  However, in the sea, virtually everything turns out to be an animal.  A lot of these small critters do not photograph well.  On this day

Blue Fan Bryozoan, Kawaihae Harbour, November 20202

 I got an acceptable picture of a small round organism, with branching arms, called a blue fan bryozoan.  It reminds me a bit of lichen, if one needs to find a visual comparison from the terrestrial world.  Our friend John Hoover tells us that bryozoans are actually more advanced than corals.  To the uninitiated, corals look like rocks while these guys look like primitive plants.  So I guess from that standpoint it might be expected.

    That was Friday, and as you all know, Sandra and I tend not to go to the beach on weekends, when the multitudes emerge from their working worlds to descend upon the shoreline.  You may wonder, with the advent of  tourist season, if this strategy still makes any sense.  Clearly the tourists, who in this temporal comparison resemble retired people, couldn't care less if it is Saturday or Monday.  You would have a point.  So far, the tourists we have seen have been tested up the wazoo.  And they really seem to be trying to follow the rules.  Suffice it to say, mask wearing and social distancing are difficult at the beach.

A Chinese Dragon run amok on a hill in San Francisco.

   In hopes of generating a blog, late Monday morning, I made my way to the pier.  It was a dark and stormy day, not one that our Dear Good Lord would have designated for underwater photography.  On the other hand, it was Monday, so off we go into the cooling and modestly clear water.  

   I wasn't very far out, perhaps only as far as the second swim buoy, and in the relative shallows, halfway between the swim buoy and the malecon, amongst a bunch of living coral, when things started happening.  Three blue goatfish, hunting in a group with an adolescent ulua, went whipping by.  The blue is among our larger goatfish and the largest of these, who was batting cleanup, was possibly the largest I have ever seen.  He was the, in the words of Randall McMurray, the bull goose blue goatfish. 

The Blue Goatfish Trio, Ulua, Eel and Trumpetfish!

Now, when hunting, blue goatfish don't mess around.  I can't understand how they survive since all they do is swim really fast, never stopping for a bite. And this big fella, with his flotilla, was on a merry chase.  They circled around and were suddenly joined by a long, lightly pigmented eel. Let's call him a stout. Can you imagine an eel chasing along with these marauding goatfish?  Who knew that an eel could swim that fast? 

   This fast moving parade reminded me of that hysterical chase scene from What's Up Doc where Barbara Stresand and Ryan O'Neill end up on a delivery bicycle under a Chinese Dragon.  What a scene!

   In addition to the picture of the Chinese dragon, etc., I'm including a picture of this marine chase scene.  First, note how big that trailing goatfish is compared to the other two goatfish and the ulua.

Another look at the big blue goatfish.

Huge, right?  Now, in the upper right hand corner, notice how the eel is attempting to keep pace with this fast moving pack.  And finally, see how that trumpetfish, a piscivorous killer in his own right, is watching for a chance at a quick meal.

   Movie analogies aside, this reminded me of a mixed feeding flock.  As I have said many times, bird watching is not nearly so much fun as fish watching.  But there are some analogies.  When one is birding in a forest, be it in Western Washington or the mountains of Venezuela, one is seeing virtually nothing for long periods.  Perhaps once every half hour, if he is lucky, the forest will explode in avian activity.  There may be seven or eight species of small birds moving through.  Ornithologists have trouble stating just exactly what benefit all these different species attain by hunting together, each in his own singular way, for insects.  Regardless, the phenomenon is well known and a mixed feeding flock is what a birdwatcher is hoping for as he traipses quietly through a moist forest.  And for a brief moment, we saw a mixed feeding flock at work on the Hawaiian reef.

Ryan and Babs.  Which way did the eel go?

    Well, the show was over in a flash.  The goatfish and ulua raced off in search of their prey while the trumpetfish and the eel settled down to hunt in their more accustomed fashion.  As far as fish go, that was it for this outing.

     As I came ashore, I was greeted by a friendly black lady of roughly 40 years  who was standing waist deep on the sand, enjoying the cool water and the high overcast.  As you know, I am (figuratively) embracing the tourists, so we had a pleasant, if brief, chat.  She was from San Jose and was so happy to be here in Kona.  She said that she had phoned her friends back in the Bay Area and told them that it was just like 2019 here. 

    Over the last few years we have recalled the Bush presidency as the halcyon days.  Here she was harkening back to 2019 in much the same way. Oh, what we took for granted!  I asked if she was staying at the Marriott and she replied that she was planning on being in Kona for two months and in no way could afford the Marriott for that period of time.  She had opted for an Air BnB up by Taco Bell, which puts her halfway between the beach and the KTA store.  Perfect.  Since my new friend is here for two months, maybe I'll be lucky and see her again.

Slender Lizardfish,  Kailua Bay, Thanksgiving  2020

   With Thanksgiving just a day away, yesterday was our day to look for a turkeyfish.   The Hawaiian Green Lionfish , which is the turkeyfish's nom de guerre, may be the most homely lionfish on the planet.  Over my many years I have seen only two, so finding one on a given  day isn't likely.  If we were representing this as an algebraic equation, we would be talking about x approaching  over infinity.  Or, as I get older, is x approaching infirmity.?  Regardless, the chance of seeing a turkeyfish on this festive occasion gives me an excuse to get out on or near Thanksgiving, no matter how quixotic the mission. 

    That morning I had harvested most of the oranges that remained on our tree and deposited half of them (roughly two dozen naranjas) in a bag on the cubby for our fish minded friends.  Shortly thereafter  I was changed and back into the cool water.  

    My experience with the green  lionfish is that it occurs in the shallows.  So I was focusing on that area when I came upon this nice slender lizard fish.  He has those wonderful lips with black and white stripes.  Sort of like the columns in the duomo in Pisa.  But without any leaning towers.  After that modest encounter, marine animals became pretty scarce.  All the way back at the pier, by the tender

The Bright Eye Damsel says, " Happy Thanksgiving!"

landing I spotted a stripe belly puffer and a large pictus moray eel.  Although the peppered moray is among our largest, he is also among the most reticent.  When I dove down to take a picture of this brute, at a respectful distance, he withdrew into his cave.   As the big moray had withdrawn, I snapped a picture of what was available, which in this case was a a Bright Eye Damselfish.  The bright eye damsel is small and tends to run for cover at the drop of a hat, so we don't have many pictures of this elusive fellow with the shining eye.  As is so often the case, we take what God gives us and in this case it was a bright eye damsel.  

    I dove under the floating line and swam around the shallows for another five minutes looking for the turkeyfish.  I had just made my turn over the sand in preparation for a landing when I ran into the school of bandtailed goatfish.  The water was a little clearer than the first time they were spotted and I got a couple pictures and a movie that you might enjoy.  This apparently was to be our Thanksgiving treat...psychedelic goatfish, in lieu of the the green lionfish.

 

       As I came ashore, I was greeted by a young gentleman and lady, perhaps of the Indian persuasion, although they spoke English flawlessly.  Ankle deep in the water, the young man was wearing shorts and a nice shirt while his lady friend was wearing a skirt.  She also had what might be a backpack purse, or perhaps just a small, fashionable daypack.  Obviously they weren't swimming at that juncture.  They were from Las Vegas and had just arrived in Kona for their honeymoon.  Awww.  Did I mention that they just looked as sweet as pie?

   They were eager to get recommendations for their four day stay in our island paradise.  I gave them Ho'okena, City of Refuge (for the tikis, etc) and Beach 69.  They had never tried snorkeling, so I  recommended the very spot they were standing.  You can never go wrong with a swim at the pier..

jeff

Thanksgiving Hibiscus at Casa Ono.

 

PS.  By the time I was done changing, most of our offered oranges had found a new home.
 

Snorkeling with the Joy Luck Club

   For the most part,  it was a rainy weekend in Kona.  This afforded me the opportunity to do some gardening in the rain, including the removal of a venerable banana tree.  When I explained to Sandra that gardening in the rain reminded me of what I used to do in Seattle, she replied, "like cutting down banana trees?"  Suffice it to say,it was a rhetorical question.

A Dramatic November Sunset

    How did the banana tree get to be so old?  It bore its single bunch of bananas over a year ago, while we were in Vancouver doing Trick or Treat with Colsen and Reid.  By the time we got back in November there was so much else to do that the old brute was forgotten.  Which doesn't mean it stopped growing.  By the time I tackled it on Saturday morning the trunk was eight inches in diameter and the leaves reached twenty feet skyward.  

    I had offered Vernon Yoder, a harvester of trees par excellence, the opportunity to cut down the tree, but Kathy was adamant; they are not coming to Hawaii this winter, banana tree or no banana tree.  I'm including a picture of Vernon and, his father with the family log truck circa 1960.  And I ask you, "Do you think he could handle a measly banana tree?  

   In addition to the Yoders, this winter we will not see any of our friends from British Columbia. Under current Canadian policy, anyone who leaves the country loses their health insurance.  Lonely us.

Vernon and his Father ca 1960.

    The sky full of clouds yielded some wonderful sunsets, but it wasn't raining all the time.  On Sunday afternoon the sun came out and we took a drive, looking at the throngs of tourists at White Sands beach and Kahalu'u.  Just past  K Bay, Sandra was astounded as she looked at the still barricaded grounds of what was the Keahou Beach Hotel.  She exclaimed, "They've turned it into a golf course!"

   You long time followers of the comings and goings in Kailua Kona will recall that the hotel closed its doors in October of 2012.  We were told at the time that it would be turned into a cultural center.  Over the next five years, the owners of the property, which turns out to be Kamehameha Schools, demolished the building.  That's right.  It took five years!  Talk about Hawaiian time.  For the last two years we have been looking at a vacant lot. Just a few days ago we spotted a flowing lawn with a few picnic tables.  No shelter whatsoever. Is this Kamehameha Schools idea of a cultural center?  

The Kahalu'u Cultural Center,  photo SKG

   Being vulnerable kapunas, we tend not to go to the beach on weekends.  Yesterday being Monday, we headed wiki wiki down to Kahalu'u.  Sandra took off to take more pictures of the new golf course,
while I headed for the beach.  The water is getting cooler, it is a little cloudy and there are definitely tourists swimming in the bay.  But what the heck, Hawaii is getting back to normal, virus or no virus.

   On this outing I did not see any new fish or critters, but I took the opportunity to work on my movie making skills.  Out of six efforts, four are fit for human consumption.  Or close enough.  Obviously there are countless moving pictures of Hawaiian fish, shot in focus and in clear blue water.  These clips give you a chance to see what was up on a cloudy fall day at Kahalu'u.

   The fist clip shows a palenose parrotfish, one of our prettiest fish.  Back in the day, we were told that parrotfish ate coral and what came out the other end was made the sandy beaches.  As you can see here, the parrotfish now graze on what is growing on the bare rocks.

  

The next video shows a Rockmover.  These amusing wrasses aren't found just anywhere.  For some reason Kahalu'u is the best spot on the Big island.  This is a nice crisp video which shows off the fish nicely.  Unfortunately I didn't catch it turning over a rock.  Larger yellowtail coris, also found at K Bay, also turn over rocks looking for comestible invertebrates.  Perhaps we will find one of those next time. 

   The third video is quick shot of a saddleback butterflyfish.  This is another of our very attractive fish.  That alone justifies my including this quick clip that seems to have been shot too close.  The saddle back is bigger than most other butterflies and I suppose that accounts for this fish filling the frame to excess.

The last little video (this blog site limits us to twenty second clips) is of everybody's favorite fish, the Yellow Tang. These guys are herbivores and will clean the green stuff of almost anything, from a rock to a turtle. Here you will also see a bunch of  Lavender Tangs and a few other fish.  Identifying them should be good practice for you.

    When I got ashore, Sandra greeted me with the news that the place was crawling with flipper walking  Japanese tourists.  Things change daily, but as far as I knew, it is difficult, if not impossible, for a Japanese tourist (currently) to come to Hawaii and then return to Japan.  Never the less, there was a plethora of Asian tourists in the shelter and they were speaking to each other in an inscrutable (to my ear) oriental tongue. 

A family from Oakland gets ready to hit the beach. photo SKG

   As I passed through the throng on my way to the shower. I was hailed by a chubby gentleman with a
fu manchu beard.  Although my ears were full of water, there was no mistaking that he spoke in highly accented English.  After explaining the ins and outs of snorkeling at Kahalu'u, I took a chance and asked him where he was from.  To which he replied, "San Francisco."   I took another chance and asked where they were staying. "At the Marriott.." he replied.  He wasn't sure if that was the King Kamehameha Hotel, but the next nearest Marriott is at Waikoloa, an hour away.

   After I got changed, Schmoopie and I looked around.  There were at least four of these Chinese American families, with no fewer than six members in each family  unit.  Mothers were giving stern instructions on water safety to their children in Mandarin.   

   One chubby little girl plopped down near us.  Having no boundaries whatsoever, I asked where she was from.  She looked up at me like a panda in the headlights, but when her father encouraged her, she blurted out, "Oakland."  Sandra couldn't help herself.  She told the father that our nephew had just purchased a home in Oakland for a tidy sum, to which he replied, "Ahh,  Very expensive.  Ha ha."  

   We love having our tourists back.  It makes everything seem normal even if it quadruples our risk of getting the plague.  Meanwhile, you can join me for the dim sum special at the Billfish Bar and Grille. Sammy Fong is picking up the tab. 

jeff

    My mother was a singer, not a famous one, but she loved to sing the hits from her favorite shows.  I can sing One Hundred Million Miracles in my sleep.That's Jackie Fong embracing Mei Li.  Earlier in the movie, Mei Li sings my mother's favorite song while she keeps rhythm on a small drum.

  If you haven't read Amy Tan, you have a treat in store for you.  The Chinese experience is alive and well in the Bay Area and Amy really brings it to life.