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