A Butterfly Story from New Hampshire

Eastern Black Swallowtail Caterpillar and Dill  Lin Batkins photo

   This Monday I visited the dermatologist and, as a result of her ministrations, I am hors de combat vis a vis snorkeling for the remainder of the week.  Luckily, a week or so ago, my sweetie was contacted
by a friend who had a caterpillar that needed to be identified.  And in that way we have an exciting story for the blog.

    Lin Batkins and her husband Don, who is Sandra's cousin, live in New Hampshire.  It is likely that Lin and Don are the most far flung readers of the blog. After all, you can't get much further from Hawaii without leaving the country.  On request, Lin texted Sandra a picture of the caterpillar which you see here.  Lin wondered if it was a monarch.  Well, as you can see this wasn't a monarch caterpillar.

Eastern Black Swallowtail Butterfly, courtesy University of Florida

    Being recently hatched experts, we asked Lin what the caterpillar was eating.  The answer was that it was dining on dill that she was cultivating in her garden.  Now, as host plants go, it seemed to me that dill might be quite unusual.  With this in mind I asked Mr. Google what caterpillars eat dill.  The
answer was Eastern Black Swallowtail!  A quick look at images of the butterfly and her caterpillars revealed that  this was a perfect match.   How exciting!  The EBS, as you can see here (courtesy of the University of
Florida) is a big, beautiful black butterfly.  The ventral side of the back wing bears a fantastic constellation of orange, blue and white markings.  How I would love to see one of those!  This is not entirely impossible, for despite the name, its range extends all the way to the left coast.

 One might have thought that the story would end there, but, apparently, one should not under estimate Ms. Batkins. Instead of leaving eating caterpillars lie, Lin captured the caterpillar, put it in a large jar and provided a diet of fresh dill.  Add some capers and mayonnaise and you might have a pretty tasty condiment to apply to your barbecued ahi.  The caterpillar continued to dine sumptuously and after about five days he formed a

Black Swallowtail Chrysalis, Lin Batkins photo

chrysalis.  Here is a picture of the caterpillar in his chrysalis.  Had Lin placed the stick a bit higher, one must assume the chrysalis would be hanging from the stick, as opposed to lying recumbent.  In a few days he will release enzymes and dissolve into what some people call butterfly soup.  Tiny bits of genetic material known as imaginal discs will remain and reorganize the soup into a butterfly, which should emerge as a fully formed adult. 

   I don't know about you, but I am on the edge of my seat.  In the meantime, we are having ahi for dinner and I hope schmoopie remebers to add dill to the mayo and capers.

jeff

In honor of Lin's discovery and her exciting experiment, we whipped up a paper mache model of the Eastern Black Swallowtail. Here you see it with its antennae freshly glued in.   The butterfly should be arriving in New Hampshire sometime next week, following a harrowing migration through the wilds of the USPS.    j

The Eyes Have It or a Nudibranch at Black Sand Beach 49

   The surf was up along most of the coast on the west side of the Big Island.   The one exception was, according to Stormsurf, a patch of calm water in the heart of the Great Kohala Bight.  We had been looking forward to the re-opening of Black Sand Beach 49 at the Mauna Lani and figured that it might just catch the southern edge of this sea of tranquility.  I dashed off an email to Peter, who said that he and Marla could not join us, but that they had checked out BSB 49 and that it was open.  However, the Mauna Lani was further limiting the number of visitors they allowed into that jewel of a bay, in the name of social distancing.

White margin Nudibranch  BSB 49

    With that in mind, Sandra and I left early and we were at the gatehouse just before 9 AM.  The nice man chatted with us for a bit and then asked if it was just us two, as if maybe four or five people were hiding in the trunk.  When we answered in the affirmative, he said we could go in, although he was already at the maximum.  What a nice guy.

    It was a lovely morning up in Kohala, sunny but not too hot.  And there was just a tiny amount of surge to deal with.  Immediately after we hit the water, I looked down in the fine dark gravel and what did I see but a nudibranch!  At this stage in my career, the ancient stage, I can still count the total number of nudibranch experiences not at Kawaihae on one hand.

    I actually recognized this cute little guy that was hugging the bottom about seven feet down.  It was a white margin nudibranch. I had seen a few of these nudis about a year ago when Hai and Lottie took me to the wharf  at Kawaihae, what Hai calls the cathedral for the huge number of pillars

A speckled scorpionfish gives you the fish eye.  BSB 49 June 2020

supporting the landing.   John Hoover tells us that this is the most common nudibranch in Hawaii.  Regardless, this black gravel was terrible nudibranch habitat.  He had obviously been washed off a sponge covered rock elsewhere in the bay and it was pure good fortune that he was crawling on the gravelly bottom below us.  Sandra and I each got a good look, then I dove down to attempt a picture.

  I got down three times.  Without any weights and no hand holds on the gravel, it was dive down and bob back up.   After my third dive,  the surge picked up the nudi and he started tumbling over the gravel.  This wasn't exactly a surprise, since he clearly didn't belong there, but it eliminated further photo efforts.

   While I was trying to photograph the tumbling nudi, Sandra saw it attempting to swim.  Its hard to picture a sea slug swimming.  We have a request in to Pauline Feine and she may shed some light on this.

    Out in the bay we saw a nice variety of fish, but nothing unusual.  I was really pleased to see a bunch of  thriving Pocillipora corals, both cauliflower and the slightly larger antler coral.  I started diving these corals, hoping for a coral croucher.  What I found was a couple of the slightly more common 

Arc eye hawkfish checks us out.  BSB 49,  June 2020

speckled scorpionfish.  As one would imagine, they were hunkered down between the leaves of the coral.  Hence, it was a matter of diving down and hanging on, attempting a photo by putting the camera against the coral, all the while holding on while the surf swished my old kapuana body back and forth.  These are difficult pictures even in very calm water.  I did manage to get a head shot so you can look at the tiny scorpiofish peering back at you from the coral recess.

   Once again, Sandra, on the surface, was watching my gyrations.  When I surfaced, she pointed out a fat arc eye hawkfish, saying that he had been watching me make a fool of myself with the little scorpionfish.  This guy was just sitting there all smug, so I took his picture.  

    We checked out the jagged rocks on the west side of the bay, not finding the home of the nudibranch, and then swam across to the other side.  Over there, we saw a depressing amount of dead porites coral.  Much of the dead coral had patches of live coral regenerating on it, but this was small ointment for a sad situation.  I had a couple quick glances at a fourline wrasse which was making his home among the channels in a dead coral.

    Tourists take shells.  That is our mantra for this spring.  And the little bay at BSB 49 has benefited from their shell pickin' absence just like Kahalu'u has.  We saw lots of  yellow cone shells and left

A White Spotted Auger, BSB 49  June 2020

them undisturbed. On our way back in, just protruding from the black gravel, I saw two of something that I thought  might be crab legs. to my delight,  it was a pair of white spotted augers.  I'm a tiny bit ashamed that I plucked one from the gravel for a picture, but had I not I never would have known what it was.  In this instance, the camera failed me.  The best picture I got was with the auger held in my gloved hand.  All the pictures I took of him back on the black gravel bottom were over exposed.  What you see is the best of a bad lot.  This is a fairly unusual shell so I was very glad to add it to the 2020 list.

    Obviously, It makes you wonder what we would see if there were no more tourists.  And that is beginning to look like the prevailing situation, at least for the near future.  There is talk of allowing tourists from Korea and Japan, but mainland US tourism is being discouraged by the continuing 14 day quarantine rule.

   Well, this had been a pretty good swim.  We had seen a couple worthy fish and a cracker jack mollusc, but what about a really cool crustacean to round things out?  Before hitting the beach, Sandra and I took another spin back on the makai side and, while examining an antler coral, I saw a medium sized crab harboring inside.  Once again, I was faced with the task of diving down and pointing the camera between the

Hawaiian Swimming Crab,  Strange eye for a crabby guy.

coral leaves.  And, as before, I got a picture of the animal looking back out at me.  In this case it was a Hawaiian swimming crab that was looking back at us.  And what an eye this fellow has.  The usually mild mannered and restrained John Hoover calls it "bizarre."  The eyes of arthropods are a varied lot, but this one has to win some sort of prize.  What sort of a world view is rendered by that piece of optical equipment?   Maybe Donald Trump has an eye like a swimming crab.  That would explain a few things!

    In addition to that crazy eye, in this mish mash of a photo we get a nice glimpse of the large horny claw and one or two of the walking legs.  Over on the far left, unless I am mistaken, you see one of the swimming paddles.  Suffice it to say, the crab had to be a contortionist to fit into the tiny space between the coral leaves and so he presents a variety of body parts in what one might call a non-anatomic array.

   We had a great time at Black Sand Beach 49.  We observed social distancing, but were still able to appreciate the aroma of some pakalolo that wafted our way as we were showering.  Life is good here on Hawaii.  Where ever you may be, we hope it's good for you, too.

jeff

The Dawn of Fish Watching the Wagoner's List

Fishes Seen and Identified In Kahalu'u Bay,  Kailua-Kona , Hawai'i

Identified by Bill and June Wagoner - In the mid 1980's

(Note: Order of listing follows Spencer Wilkie Tinker,
but a few English or Latin names have been changed
to agree with newer books by John E. Randall and others.)

Lizard Fish (Symodus variegatus)
Snowflake Moray (Echidna nebulosa)
Guines Moray (Gymnothorax meleagris)                 Whitemouth Moray
Yellow Margin Moray (Gymnothorax flavimarginatus)
Undulated Moray (Gymnothorax undulatus)
Conger Eel (Conger cinereus)
 Snake Eel (Ophichthus polyophthalmus)                      An exceedingly rare snake eel

Needle Fish (Belone platyura)                                        Keeltailed Needlefish
Trumpet Fish (Aulostoma chinensis)
Cornet Fish (Fistularia petimba)
Squirrel Fish (Myripristis kuntee)
Barracuda (Sphyraena barracuda)
Argus Grouper (Cephalopholis argus)
Hawaiian Flagtail (Kuhlia sandvicemsis)
Iridescent Cardinalfish (Apogon snyderj)

White Goatfish (Mulloides flavolineatus)                            Square spot, Yellow stripe
Yellowstripe Goatfish (Mulloides vanicolensis)                    Yellowfin
Doublebar Goatfish (Parupeneus bifasciatus)
Blue Goatfish (parupeneus cyclostomus)
Black Banded Goatfish (parupeneus multifasciatus)        Manybar Goatfish
Whitesaddle Goatfish (parupeneus porphyreus)

Rudderfish (Kyphosus cinerescens)                                   We now play four species  species of chub

Potter's Angelfish (Cenropyge potteri)

Longnose Butterfly Fish (Forcipeger longirost)
Threadfin Butterfly Fish (Chaetodon auriga)
Citron Butterfly Fish (Chaetodon citrinnellus)
Bluestripe Butterfly Fish (Chaetodon fremblii)
Lined Butterfly Fish (Chaetodon lineolatus)
Raccoon Butterfly Fish (Chaetodon lumula)
Milletseed Butterfly Fish (Chaetodon miliaris)
Pebbled Butterfly Fish (Chaetodon multicinctus)
Ornate Butterfly Fish (Chaetodon ornatissamus)
Fourspot Butterfly Fish (Chaetodon quadrimaculatus)
Rainbow Butterfly Fish (Chaetodon trifasciatus)           species name change lunulatus  Oval               
Teardrop Butterfly Fish (Chaetodon unimaculatus)

Yellowtailed Jack (Caranx mate)                    ?Big eye scad,  common at pier,not found at Kahalu'u
Blue Jack (Caranx melampygus)                    blue fin trevally

Dark Finned Damsel (Chromis agilis)                            Agile Chromis
White Spotted Damsel (Dascyllus albissella)                 Hawaiian Dascyllus
Sargent Major Damsel (Abudefduf abdominalis)
Olive Damsel (Abudefduf imparipennis)                       Bright eye Damsel
Kupipi Damsel (Abudefduf sordidus)
Blue Eyed Damsel (Plectroglyphidodon johnston)
Jenkin's Damsel (Pomacentrus jenkinsi)                      Hawaiian Gregory
Vanderbilt's Damsel (Chromis vanderbilti)                   Blackfin Chromis

Cigar Wrasse (Bodianus bilunulatus)   Cigar Wrasse Chelio inermis , or Haw. Hogfish  Bodianus  bi..
Cleaner Wrasse (Labroides phthironphagus)
Rockmover Wrasse (Novaculichthys taeniourus)
Old Lady Wrasse (Thalassoma ballieui)
Saddle Wrasse (Thalassoma dubperrey)
Christmas Wrasse (Thalassoma fuscum)
Bird Wrasse (Gomphosus varius)
Black Striped Wrasse (Coris flavovittata)
Yellowtail Wrasse (Coris gaimardi)
Elegant Wrasse (Coris venusta)
Belted Wrasse (Stethojulis balteata)
Speckled Wrasse (Macropharyngodon meleagris)                   Shortnose Wrasse
Spotted Wrasse (Anampses cuvler)                                          Pearl Wrasse

Redlip Parrotfish (Scarops rubroviolaceus)
Regal Parrotfish (Scarus dubius)
Palenose Parrotfish (Scarus psittacus))
Banded Nose Parrotfish (Scarus perspicillatus)
Sordid Parrotfish (Pearus sordious                                         Bullethead Parrotfish
Stareye Parrotfish (Colototomus spinidena)

Arc-eye Hawkfish (Parecirrhites arcatus)
Freckled Hawkfish (Parecirrhites fosteri)
Hard Headed Hawkfish (Cirrhitus pinnulatus)                        Stocky Hawkfish

Short Bodied Blenny (Exallias brevis)
Common Blenny (Cirripectus variolosus)                                Scarface Blenny

Achilles Tang (Acanthurus achilles)
Hawaiian Surgeon (Acanthurus dussumieri)
White Banded Surgeon (Acanthurus leucopareius)
Ring Tailed Surgeon (Acanthurus mata)
Brown Surgeon (Acanthurus nigrofuscus)
Blue Lined Surgeon (Acanthurus nigrois)
Orange Shoulder Surgeon (Acanthurus olivaceus)
Kole Surgeon (Ctenochaetus strigosus)
Yellow Tang (Zebrasoma flavescens)
Convict Tang (Acanthurus sandvicensis)
Sailfin Tang (Zebrasoma veliferum)
Smoothhead Unicorn (Naso lituratus)
Large Unicorn (Naso unicornis)
Moorish Idol (Zanclus cornutus)

Devil Scorpionfish (Scorpaenopsis diabolus)
Flying Gunard (Dactyloptena orientalis)
Common Flounder, Manyray Flatfish (Bothus Mancus)

Black Triggerfish (Melichthys niger)
Pinktail Triggerfish (Melichthys vidua)
Rectangular Triggerfish (Rhinecannthus rectangulus)
Whiteline Triggerfish (Sufflamen bursa)
Dumeri's Filefish (Cantherhines dumerlii)                      Barred Filefish
Brown Filefish (Cantherhines sandwichiensis)
Longtail Filefish (Alutera scripta)                                    Scribbled Filefish
Fantail Filefish (pervagor spilosoma)
Blue-Lined Leather Jacket (Osbeckia scripta)                  Scribbled Filefish

Blue Boxfish (Ostracion meleagris)
Spotted Green Puffer (Arothron hispidus)            Stripe belly Puffer
Speckled Puffer (Arothron meleagris)                  Guineafowl Puffer
Whitespotted Puffer (Canthigaster jactator)          White spotted toby
Common Porcupinefish (Diodon holacanthus)     Longspine Porcupinefish
Giant Porcupinefish (Diodon hystrix)                    Giant Porcupinefish

Seen on outside of Breakwater of the Bay:

Whitetipped Reef Shark (Triaendon obesus)
Striped Porgy (Monotaxis grandoculis)                  The Mu   Big eye Emperor
Mustard Surgeon (Acanthurus guttatus)                  White Spotted Surgeon
Black Surgeon (Ctenochaetus hawaiiensis)
(Note: We have not included several seen which
lack our positive identification)

TOTAL: 108 !!!
from the desk of Dick Dresie
(Dick the Diver)

The Dawn of Fish Watching

   Last Monday after I finished my swim and was on the way to the shower, I happened by the canopy that the Reef Teachers are using.  Having something special to share, namely the photos of the Bloody Hermit Crab, I chatted them up.  The three ladies and one gentleman were interested and it seemed like the blood crab was new to all of them.  While they were ogling the pictures, it came

out that one of the trio of ladies was the head of the Reef Teacher organization.  She introduced

The old orange lifeguard tower isn't the only thing missing from Kahalu'u

herself and let it slip that she was working on lists of the fish and critters found at Kahalu'u.  Only
one list for critters, but she was compiling two lists for the fish, before and after 1990.

  As it turns out Kathleen Clark is the Marine Stewardship and Education Specialist for Kahalu'u Bay Education Center.  She has a post office box in Waimea, but I believe her office is in a building out near Costco.  The gentleman reef teacher was kind enough to give me Kathleen's card and she invited me to stay in touch, saying that she would welcome help with her lists.

   After my post snorkeling nap, I wrote Kathleen a letter of introduction.  This grew progressively more manic and I polished it off by quoting Michael Keaton in his timeless guise as Beetlejuice, "You think I'm qualified?"

The best bait to catch a Reef Teacher, The Bloody Hermit Crab, D. sanguinocarpus

   Luckily Kathleen has a sense of humor.  She wrote back saying that she had read and enjoyed some of the most recent blogs and that she would, indeed, welcome my help with the lists.  Best of all, she included the list that you will find in the accompanying blog.  I was unable to turn it into a file and
insert it in this blog.  In fact, my efforts made everything you have just read disappear into the ether.  Kathleen solicited my help deciphering some of the identifications, where neither the common name nor the binomial name matched any current species name;

   As I read that list I sensed the presence of a fellow traveler, someone who had incorporated fish watching into a life that was cemented in bird watching.  For this was just the sort of list a bird watcher would make.  First, the fish are presented in the correct order, as an ichthyologist (or ornithologist) might place them.  This list attempts to start with the most primitive animals, sharks in the case of fish, and progress to the most highly evolved.  These latter, as you can see are triggerfish and puffers.   This is opposed to some other sort of order, like alphabetical, which is an anathema to a bird watcher.

   Secondly, their list clearly displays the lack of a good field guide to the fish of Hawai'i.  One can tell how hard they were trying, but they didn't have the best common names and sometimes their scientific (binomial) names were hopelessly out of date.  Not only that, but they were unable to compete on an even field with with Bob Hillis and Peter Kropje.  Fishwatchers now have books (John Hoover's Ultimate Guide being a prime example) that allow them to put a name on everything they see.  With enough tiny blennies and gobies, a 200 fish list is not out of the question. Field guides to North American birds have filled this niche since at least 1950.  Hawaiian fishwatchers were at least 40 years behind.

   So who were Bill and June Wagoner and how did their personal journey lead them to Kahalu'u?   Bill and June were about the age of my parents, Bill and Ina.  Like my father, Bill served in World War II.  Bill Wagoner was six years older than my father and already a talented photographer, so instead  of serving on an LST in the Western Pacific, he took photographs for the Army Signal Corps.  After the war, both Bill and June worked as lecturers for the American Audubon Society.

   Birdwatchers!  Making lists day after day.  Ticking them off one by one.

   In the early 50s they produced photographs and art of the canyons of Northern Arizona and it is a document form Northern Arizona University, highlighting their collections, that provided this biographical information.  It appears they purchased a condo at the Surf and Raquet Club in the early

The first field guide to Hawaiian reef fishes

80s and fell in love with the fish just about the same time that I did. Although we trained in the same discipline (birdwatching), I was 30 years younger, so I'm still here to tell the story.

   Obviously the Wagoners were limited in their new passion by the lack of adequate field guides. Gar Goodson and his short list in The Many Splendored Fishes of Hawaii, illustrated, sometimes with extravagant inaccuracy, by Phillip Weisgerber was the only field guide similar to the guides of Roger Tory Peterson and Arthur Singer, which truly contain every bird one might see.

  And then, as the Wagoners tell you, there was Tinker.  I can remember when the nice lady at the Middle Earth Bookstore in the Kailua Kona village pointed out the massive scientific tome by Spencer Wilkie Tinker.  532 pages listing every fish that an eminent ichthyologist ever imagined might have occurred in These Very Sandwich Islands up to that point (the book was published in 1978) with black and white photos of dead fish and lots of line drawings.  And Dr Tinker didn't want to give too much away.  Not only did he fail to catalog a bunch of smaller fish, but he gave no clue as to what was likely to be seen on a Hawaiian reef.   Its hard to believe, but in 1985 that is what the Wagoners had.

   A few years after that first encounter, I purchased a copy of Tinker in a used bookstore. I got the second edition, which includes some color plates.  In possessing the book the Wagoners used, I am a step ahead of Ms. Clark.  However, as I fought my way through the list, I found that when Tinker failed, the internet would usually provide me a path, finding the archaic binomial name and directing me to a modern classification.  Its interesting that in just under 50 years how the classifications and common names have changed.

Large spotted snake eel, Opthicthus polyophthalmus, Komodo National Park

    Well hats off to the Wagoners.  With the tools they had, Bill and June did an amazing job.  Before writing this blog I reviewed my old lists; I still have three from the 80s.  All three are hand written on papers scrounged from our family vacations.  My favorite is a list on the back of the house rules for Kona Makai Condominioums.  On that list I register only 71 species and that includes snorkeling at Kona Makai and the Mauna Kea Beach Hotel in addition to Kahalu'u. It wasn't until the 90s that I started printing my lists, with the use of a computer and printer.  It doesn't speak highly of me, but those later computerized lists were the beginning of my use of scientific names on my lists.  It is likely that the Wagoner's list was actually comprised from hand written lists.  Lucky for them that they knew Dickie the Diver, possessor at an early date, of a word processor and printer.

    By the way, it wasn't until the 90s, with the advent of better field guides authored by Jack Randall and John Hoover, that I started logging over 100 species on a 10 day family vacation.  By then I was snorkeling at many different locations and, as in bird watching, a variety of  habitats makes a huge
difference as to how many species you see.

The Scrawled Filefish,  Aluterus scriptus, Kailua Pier 2014

   The Wagoners placed many fish on their list that I have not seen in Kahalu'u Bay, but see elsewhere at least occasionally.  Bill and June were clearly astute observers, so when they say they saw Potter's angelfish in K Bay, we need to take them at their word.  The fish that stands out most brightly is the snake eel, actually the large spotted snake eel, Opthicthus polyophthalmus.  When I first saw that on the list I thought they were over reaching.  However, on reading Hoover more carefully it seems that K Bay is not bad habitat for this rare fish. Two good observers and lots of hours certainly increases the likelihood of unearthing a great fish. 

    As you read the list, you will note many fish that are no longer seen at Kahalu'u.  The one we miss the most is the scribbled filefish.   Mr. Scribble used to be common at Kahalu'u.  Five scribbled filefish would swim right up to the entry and greet you as you entered.  This was so in 1999 but by 2001 they had disappeared, never to return.  The Scribbled Filefish is now found only associated with deeper reefs next to open water.  We see it occasionally past the last swim buoy at the Kailua pier and out by the island at City of Refuge. 

Milletseed Butterflyfish,  Kahalu'u August 2012

   Gar Goodson called it the Scribbled Trigger and the Longtail Filefish, but he did have the correct binomial name, Aluterus scripta.   Tinker uses Blue-Lined Leather Jacket  Osbeckia scripta. I started using Scribbled Filefish in 1988.  The Wagoner's liked Mr. Scribble so well they claimed it twice,
using  different common and binomial names, which suggests that they were using Many Splendored Fishes, even though they give Gar no credit.   There are other instances of this in their list, common and binomial names that appear nowhere else. This does not take away from their pioneering work; they were doing the best they could.

    As the years pass, other fish disappear from Kahalu'u.  The milletseed was once seen in large schools, then only a rare individual would be seen.  Now one must go to some special spots, kawaihae Harbor and Mahu Kona, if they want to see this lovely fish at snorkeling depth. 

The manybar goatfish dashes away, Kahalu'u June 2020

    Before putting this blog to bed, I wanted to snorkel once more at Kahalu'u, and in preparation, I took a hard look at theWagoner's list.  I began wondering when I had last seen a manybar goatfish Parupensis multifasciatus, at K Bay.  Luckily on my hour snorkel I saw two.  The first was hiding under a rock and then dashed away.  The second was patrolling the extreme shallows as I got out.  So the picture I cuaght of this versatile fish is a fleeting one. But rest assured, he is still there, hunting with octopus, eels and jacks.  That's a load off my mind and I'm sure yours as well.

jeff


 

     

Kahalu'u Magic or the Return of the Bloody Hermit

Yellow Margin Moray eel Hunting at Kahalu'u  June 2020

     Over the weekend we were texting with Peter about meeting somewhere south on Monday.  Considerations medical and meteorological mitigated in scrapping those plans.  The rain stopped about 4 AM on Monday morning and by 8 I was Jonesing to go snorkeling.  Opting for the easiest thing, schmoopie and I took the ten minute drive down the slopes of Hualalai to Kahalu'u.

Stout Moray Eel with Honey Cowry Behind

    Sandra set up to read and watch and I hit the water.  I had been swimming for only a few minutes when a large yellow margin moray swam by.  A few moments later I communed  with a reticent stout
moray who poked his nose querulously out the coral.  Now some of you in the Peanut Gallery may shout out, "How do you know that isn't a whitemouth moray?"  The answer is I don't know for sure.  Our good friend and mentor, the Great Oz, himself, says that they frequently look similar, and in those instances, you won't know for sure until you see the inside of the mouth.  So just say, "Aah."

  In the same picture you will see a honey cowry sitting on the ledge behind the eel.  This cowry is not rare, but unusual enough to make the list of significant sightings

    Two quick eels had to be a harbinger of good things to come.

   Still operating along the inner margin of the coral, about thirty yards off shore, I ran into a juvenile cleaner wrasse, the bright blue streak you have seen in recent blogs.  Those tiny fish are irresistible, so I dove down to get a picture.  He hid under the lip of a coral head, but while I was submerged, with

Gosline's Fang Blenny  Kahalu'u June 2020

the camera at the ready, a Gosline's fang blenny put on a bit of a show and allowed me to get three pictures.  These fish are sort of like cleaner wrasses, nipping parasites from cooperative larger fish.  It is not for nothing that they are sometimes referred to as scale eating blennies, for instead of plucking a parasite, they nab a tiny bit of the fish.  Usually when I see scale eating blennies, they are not associated with a cleaner wrasse.  Or at least I haven't made that association.  But I'm going to look for it from now on.    

     In this picture you can see the yellow dorsal line, which is frequently pictured in books, but rarely seen by me.  Here is another instance where the camera is a big help.

      Back around the corner, heading out to Surfer's rock, I spied a handsome punctured miter shell sitting on a coral ledge.  Thinking that I would take a portrait of the shell, which boasted decorative hints of green algae,  I placed it a bit closer to the surface.  As I was getting ready to take the picture

Bloody Hermit, Dardanus sanguinocarpus,  Kahalu'u June 2020

the shell started to move.  I had positioned the shell with the aperture facing outward, so when a bloody hermit crab emerged, he was in perfect position for photography.  He was not the largest blood crab I have seen, but far from small, with lovely coloration and hairy legs that would do a tarantula proud.

    This is the largest hermit that I see in Hawaii.  There are other large hermits in the critter book.  While some occur at depth, several of them, also of the genus Dardanus, are reputed to occur in habitat like Kahalu'u and Kailua pier.  Obviously, I need to keep examining shells.

 At this time, with the tourists safely in their niches back in the lower 48 and in Japan, we are experiencing a rebirth at Kahalu'u.  One finding is the resurgence of the coral, presumably in the absence of toxic sun screen.  But another is the large number of shells we are seeing lying around.  I never imagined that tourists were picking up the shells and removing them from the bay in large numbers.  However, my experience in May and June can hardly be questioned:   Tourists remove

The hermit crab pivoted this shell with relative ease. (See his tiny eyes?)

shells, many of which contain the original snail or a hermit crab.  And the ones they get that don't have an animal, would be a home for a hermit in the future.  Sadly, I have no idea how you stop tourists from taking shells.


    When I think of this species, Dardanus sanguinocarpus,  I picture it living in a triton shell.  John Hoover shows two pictures of the bloody hermit crab in his book.  In one, the crab inhabits a triton,  In the other he is in a miter.  As I looked through my pictures, I have to admit that I have found the bloody hermits as frequently in a miter shell as any other.  In one instance, close by Kailua Pier, I found the bloody hermit in an enormous marlin spike auger.  Its hard to imagine how strong this little crab has to be to manipulate that large, heavy shell.  On this day, I watched while the hermit crab turned the miter shell around with relative ease. 

Adult Sailfin tang showing off the extended fins  Kahalu'u 2020

    As I continued my swim, I was joined by a pair of sailfin tang.  The larger of the pair was a real
beauty, just crying out to have his picture taken.  I hope you recall the baby sailfin we have been watching in Kawaihae harbor.  Now you can compare him with this handsome adult.  The fish swam around and around me.  I'm choosing the picture for you that best displays his nominative sail fin.  Isn't it lovely?










    As I swam ashore, I was greeted by hula music.  Sure enough, up in the shelter there was a group of ladies doing the hula, with Sandra watching.  She reported that they are the Kona Wahines and meet for hula once a week.  On that happy note, I'm going to dance off into the sunset. Aloha nui loa,

jeff

 

Sun Dodgers

   For darn near a fortnight, Kailua Kona has ranked, day in and day out, as the rainiest spot in the state.  Hawaii is a rainy state.  If it weren't for the frequent showers, would the men at UH Manoa

Husky Football circa 1970: Sun Dodger Denali and a Sea of Umbrellas  photo Seattle Times

compete as the Rainbow Warriors?  Mount Waialeale on the distant island of Kauai is putatively the rainiest spot on earth.  And the Hamakua coast on the Hilo side is renowned for its rain driven flooding.  So how did our desert community attract all this rain?  Where's the justice?

    Now I come from a place where rain, cold, bitter rain, is the plat du jour for weeks at a time.  My beloved Huskies, just less than a century ago, competed as the Sun Dodgers.    Check out this photo from the Seattle Times archives, back when our mascot was named Sun Dodger Denali.   This is what outdoor sports is all about in the Pacific Northwest.  In a word, Rain gear.

The Dog from Tralfamadore awaits his master

   So I know rain.  And I'm not really complaining about this rain.  It keeps things cool and I don't need to water the garden.  But it isn't really conducive to snorkeling.  For one thing, the rain has washed so much enteric bacteria into Kailua Bay that a warning has been posted against swimming there.  Hence, we have been engaging in other activities in lieu of fish watching.  Mea culpa.

    Yesterday after driving a rain soaked banana stump to the yard debris in Waikoloa, I decided that not swimming was turning into a bad habit.  With my new good attitude in hand, we made our way down to Kahalu'u.


    Despite it being Saturday, there were relatively few people at the park.  One has to assume that the county is not yet renting the shelter for baby luaus.  Sandra remained in the shade of the shelter, listening to tunes provided by a homeless man and his blaster, while I hit the surf.

   As I entered, I saw a very small raccoon butterfly.  I keep a mental list of juveniles and the baby raccoon was not on my list until rather recently.  The tidepool formed by the entry at Kahalu'u turns out to be a pretty good spot for this otherwise unusual fish.  Why I haven't been seeing it in that spot for the past thirty years is somewhat of a puzzlement.

Look for fanciful art by Gene Fewx around the PNW

   Out in the bay, the coral was thriving.  At one of my first stops I found this  algae sprouting air filled bulbs.  This stuff, which is common at Kahalu'u is mildly disgusting and my guess is that it isn't good for the coral.  This particular collection, however, looked almost animate.   Like when an alien comes home, here is his dog Astro waiting for him just inside the space portal.

   I have two friends who might be interested in this picture.  Gene Fewx builds art out of found metal objects and Brian Hades publishes science fiction novels.  When you go snorkeling you have to keep an open mind.

    It was usual suspects most of the way around my first circuit. On the far side I ran across a large zebra moray.  The eel was resting inside a coral with only portions of his body visible through the fenestrations.  He was truly big, his body being as big around as my leg.  This may say more about my legs that the eel, but he was still big.

Bluespine Unicornfish  Kahalu'u  June 2020

    The first circuit came to an end without much to be seen.  I did manage this acceptable  picture of a blue spine uniconrnfish.  As I was getting ready to join my sweetie in the shelter, I spied a well used strawberry drupe.  This shell was about the size and shape of a small mango and almost as smooth. As I watched, I became
certain that this shell did not contain the original owner;  whoever was inside was listening to Latin music and doing the rumba.  As we all know, marine snails listen only to
Percy Faith, Andy Williams, Perry Como, and certain ballads by Mr. Frank Sinatra.  In this way they have something in common with Lieutenant Steve Hauk.  And they most assuredly do not do the rumba.

    I plucked this erstwhile Desi Arnaz and found that it was a large elegant hermit crab. I set him on a suitable piece of rubble about a foot below the surface, submerged and hung on...waiting for my shot.  I had been down for about half a minute when a wave swept in, knocking the shell into the coral.  I dove down and grabbed two quick pictures of the crab.  He had now emerged from the shell and, unless I am mistaken, he was flipping me the Samoan good luck sign.  Take that, hauli.
 

He may have blue eyes, but he is definitely not Mr. Frank Sinatra

   Back at the shelter the itinerant man had switched to Abba.  To the strains of Dancing Queen, we watched him pedal off into the sparsely populated environs of Kailua in the Quarantine.  Yes, Virginia, our 14 day stay at home order is still in place and the only tourists we see are operating outside the law.

   So wash your hands, don't touch your eyes and if your dog happens to look like Astro the alien, just go
with the flow.

jeff

A Return to the Coffee Shack

   On Sunday evening Peter texted Sandra, who has apparently proven to be the more reliable correspondent, to say that he and Marla would not be joining us for snorkeling on Monday morning.  Sandra had been fighting a losing battle with her laptop for a day and a half.  Thus exhausted, she was relieved that the obligation had evaporated.

The author prepares to dine in the splendor of Old Hawaii

   I had other ideas.  During all this quarantining, we have not been to a single restaurant.  No loco moco at the BIG, no phad Thai and no Coffee Shack.  Just that afternoon, as I checked the traps, I found that the Coffee Shack was re-opening.  The nice people suggested that you call in advance to "put your name on the list" and thus assist in social distancing, limiting the crowd outside the door of this popular breakfast spot.  Although my sweetie was happy not to have to swim and entertain the following morning, she was willing to go to breakfast.

    As suggested, I called before we headed down to Kealakekua, only to be told that there was nobody there.  When we arrived at 8 AM, there were only two tables occupied, and we were the only ones seated in the Old Hawaii room, right by window with the killer view of Kealakekua Bay, Honaunau and all the way south to Ho'okena.

A view from Napo'opo'o to Ho'okena.  Only thing missing is a rainbow.

   At this point one might recall our last visit to this spectacular little breakfast place.  We were enjoying the company of Bob and Kim Hillis and thought we would stop for breakfast before heading south to City of Refuge.  Sandra somehow walked past the line of people outside the door and into
the Old Hawaii room, was greeted and seated by the waitress.  The three of us followed her and took our seats.  An uncomfortable five minutes elapsed following which there was some interrogation culminating with us being asked to leave.  Oh the humanity.

That was 8 AM pre-epidemic and this was 8 AM on the first of June.  Suffice it to say, there was no wait to be seated.  Breakfast was spectacular with an omelet, a cinnamon roll and Kona coffee.  As always the portions were so large that despite splitting a breakfast, we couldn't finish.  If there was a down side, it was a little creepy sitting in that lovely room, now reduced to four tables, all by ourselves.

La pièce de résistance !

    But we didn't let the solitary nature of our dining get us down.  We reveled in the spectacular view and Sandra left a dab of frosting on the windowsill for the house gecko. On the way home we drove past Kahalu'u, where the conditions were perfect.  We'll get back to the fish soon enough.

   Where ever you are, we wish you well.  The Big Island of Hawaii remains the safest place on the planet with no active cases.  The tourists will be here pretty soon at which time it will be no cinnamon roll for us.

jeff