The Juvenile Coral Blenny

   It's always easier to write a blog when there is a special fish or critter to feature.  Today we are lucky enough to have such a sighting to share.

   It was a lovely morning in Kona and I hitched a ride with Sandra down to Kahalu'u.  Immediately I knew something was amiss.  There was loud and repetitive guitar music emanating from the men's

The Hebrew Cone on the hunt.

changing room.  I could not help but poke my nose in, to find  there a fellow of forty some years, wearing a rough pair of cargo shorts and little else, His shaved head was the same bronze as his torso.  He wore a well trimmed mustache and a serious look as, seated upon the small wooden bench that had only recently been re-installed,  he hammered out the same blues progression over and over.  duh da duh da, duh da duh da. 

  My friend Vince, who holds down one of the chairs at the reef teachers desk, related that the gentleman in question had stated that his recording studio was closed due to the quarantine and the K Bay restroom was easily the next best thing.  Just the right bit of reverberation.

    Soon enough I left the music behind and hit the cool, clear water.  In the rocks not far from the entrance I found a Hebrew cone.  If you look carefully at this picture, I trust that you will see that tiny nub of a black tube protruding from the business end of the cone shell.  That is the siphon under which is poised the poison lance. This is the second cone that I have found hunting at Kahalu'u during the quarantine.  Prior to the quarantine I had never seen a hunting cone anywhere but at night in our Alii Villas aquarium,. So how cool is that?  And it begs the question, if a Hebrew cone is hunting, for whom does he search?  A Nazi nudibranch?

   After that bit of biology and political history, there was a lull in the action.  I made my way across the bay battling a modest current commensurate with the small amount of surf lapping against the Menhune breakwater.  Turning mauka, I floated with the current, all the while looking for something special.

The Juvenile Coral Blenny at first blush.

     I was just getting ready to make the turn north, into the middle of the bay when I floated over a small pinkish blenny with darker red spots. Although I had never seen this small fish before, I was fairly certain that I was looking at the juvenile of the coral blenny.

    We have seen coral blennies for as long as I have been swimming in Hawaii.  It was once called the short bodied blenny and it seemed, back in the day, that it was fairly uncommon.  For the last ten years at least, it has been quite common on the Ironman side of the pier. Not uncommon in lots of other spots, it is present  but not numerous at Kahalu'u.  As you have read the blog these many years, you may have noticed that baby fish do not always appear where the adults are the most common.

   The keikis of the reef are a curious group.  For those of you who live in the Pacific Northwest, as I once did, it is expectable that you will see calves and foals in the spring pasture.  And when you happen upon a fawn or a family of baby raccoons, it probably makes you sigh with pleasure.  At the same time, it does not strike you as ridiculously unexpected. With reef fish it is much more complicated.  There are some reef fish whose offspring are encountered regularly.  The keikis of  many of our common butterflyfish and parrotfish are seen regularly. But not all of them..  Every so often we see a baby fish that is so uncommon that we feel the sighting is a once in a lifetime experience.

The coral blenny peers out from his refuge.

  Many keikis are a smaller rendition of their parent, a perfect copy ten times smaller.  But a surprising number are quite different.  Some are so different, like the dragon wrasse and the red labrid, that were one ill prepared, he might think they were a different species.  As you see, the baby coral blenny is one of these fish.   

    And so it was with a sense of joy and wonder that I turned and readied the camera for my chance at this rare keiki.  As I prepared the camera, the current pushed me ten feet past the prize.  A few strokes got me a  bit closer to the blenny, who was perched on a patch of living coral.  I took one shot and moved closer still..  On my approach, he darted into a coral fenestration.  I swam up and took three pictures of him peering out at me. Hoping that this would be a brave and cooperative fish.  I let the current sweep me away, all the while looking for a good hand hold at a reasonable distance from the perch.  Luckily our new best friend was in an area with lots of living and not so lucky corals and I spotted a handhold about six feet from the perch.

Unicornfish and Cleaner Wrasse.  A lighter shade of pale.

    And you can see, the blenny returned to his exposed vantage and tolerated a cautious approach long enough for me to get a picture, at which point he lost confidence and darted back inside. This happened several times.  With each shot, I hoped for a picture in good focus. Finally I felt like I had enough and swam on.

    Out past Surfer's Rock I encountered a single cleaner wrasse working on an orange spine unicornfish..  It's a curious thing about getting cleaned.  It puts the fish in a different emotional state.  Undoubtedly there is a different mix of neurotransmitters exerting their effect and this is seen both in behavior, which is languid, and coloration.  Fishwatchers routinely refer to this as the fish "being stoned'. As you can see, this unicornfish was a lighter shade of pale.  Groovy.

   On that pleasing note, we tripped the light fandango and headed to the beach. 

   Back on shore, I met up with schmoopie, took a quick shower and headed in to get changed.  During my swim, the guitarist had not switched to Procol Harem, but was still hammering away on the same blues progression. 

Coral Blenny Juvenile, Kahalu'u July 2020

   The reef teachers were camped out inside the shelter.  I showed them my picture of the blenny and we corroborated it with the picture in the bible as interpreted by John Hoover. Juvenile coral blenny!  I then asked the multitude if any knew the movie Adventures in Babysitting. 

   No takers there, I located  my very own movie expert and advised, "Nobody leaves Kona unless they sing the blues." 

    And so it goes.  Stay one step ahead of the bad guys and maybe we'll meet in the Windy City you Thor's garage.

   jeff

Quarantinewhile.  If you can't see the coral blenny maybe you can see Adventures in Babysitting!

Dodging Hurricane Douglas or A Big Fish at Kahalu'u

   Yesterday we got out in the yard early and cut some monstera.  It has been raining with such regularity that two of our spider lillies had rotted at the base and fallen over.  We got those

A Turtle swims by at Kahalu'u

to the yard debris in Waikoloa with little difficulty.  These are large plants, but once the tops were cut off, the base pulled right out of the rocky soil.  I'm eager to replant that area, but my co-conspirator will not let that happen until I clear out the monsteras behind the remaining spider lillies. 

   I did my job and then dodged inside as the rain increased.  If we were going to be hit by the first big hurricane of the year, this would be the day.  Three days earlier, the weather people at KHNL told us that there would be a direct hit on the Big Island.  But it's a big ocean and, despite our name, we are a relatively small target.  In the last 36 hours Hurricane Douglas had veered north, the eye passing 100 miles north of Hilo.  All we received from Douglas was the rain and that was hardly different from any other day.

   To reward her gardener, Sandra prepared a lovely breakfast, a cheese omelet, papaya, juice and toast.  By the time I had consumed that feast, the sun was shining through our front door.  Grabbing opportunity by the nose, I said, "Let's go swimming!"

Heh, heh.  Heh, heh.  He said, " Dog Do."

 

Soon enough we found ourselves down at Kahalu'u.  This has become the only show in town.  Here is the run down of the swimming opportunities from north to south:

    The Corps of Engineers has locked a gate that prevents car access to the Dog Beach at Honokohau.  This is unprecedented and we can't fathom why they have done this. We don't swim at the Dog Beach very often, but lots of people (and their dogs) do and they now have a longer trek to go along with the scramble over the lava ridge and boulders. 

The illuminated black durgon

    I actually went swimming at the Kailua Pier a few days ago, the water was cloudy and the algae bloom beside the pier was especially disgusting.  But worse yet, when I got out of the water and made a move towards the showers, I encountered a portable fence that surrounded the restrooms and the shower with a large Keep Out sign ... just in case one didn't understand the purpose of the fence.  This would explain the extreme paucity of fellow swimmers.  As I was standing there fuming, who should show up but a water inspector, who told the few of us assembled that, following the sewage spill a week earlier, the water in Kailua Bay was definitely mo' bettah.  This, of course, did not preclude a hot shower back at the ranch.

   Finally, down at Keahou Bay, the Sheraton has removed the ladder that they installed only recently to support the kayak concession.  One might assume that if Donald Trump forces Hawaii to re-open to the tourists,  the hotel will once again rent kayaks and re-install the ladder.  For now, we are left with climbing on the rocks, which was never much fun. 

   Back at Kahalu'u, the sun was out and the bay was welcoming.  Mobile Graphics had predicted that the tide at that moment would be +1 foot.  What we saw was more like +3; the Menehune breakwater was completely submerged.  As it was a peaceful day out on the ocean, this didn't matter very much.  As I was entering, three recreational swimmers exited,

The super male rockmover patrols the bay.

leaving me the entire bay all to myself.

   This high tide presumably represented storm surge from Hurricane Douglas and was the most significant thing we witnessed from the storm. 

   Early on I saw a barred jack, which while not very photogenic is a little unusual, and a turtle.  At about the same time I saw a group of black durgons.  One was illumunated as if he or she was in state of excitement.  At times in the past, I have seen several durgons even prettier than this one, but he or she is included for your enjoyment.

   After that it was pretty much usual suspects until I got to the area by the Rescue Shelter.  There I ran into a large super male rock mover.  I see a similar individual every now and then, but compared to the intiial phase and even the juvenile dragon wrasse, these big boys are much less common.  I suspect that they spend most of their time outside the bay, coming inside for whatever reason only occasionally. 

   As I watched the big male rockmover swim back and forth, appearing moderately pissed off that someone like yours truly would have the temerity to enter his domain.  As chance would have it, he led me right to an octopus peeping out from beneath one of the boulders.  This is the second octopus at Kahalu'u recently.  This particular beast was quite shy, so I don't have any remarkable pictures to show you.  Yesterday was Sunday and the octopus provided me with the opportunity to sing the doxology which, as you know, concludes with, "Praise octopus the Holy Ghost."  Amen.

   Back on shore, Sandra had noticed a new Aloha sign on the side of the shelter.  This is much more in the spirit of Hawaii.  When the politicians have cured the Corona virus, perhaps you will all come and visit and enjoy some of that signature Hawaiian spirit.

jeff

A Morning at Kahalu'u

   Yesterday Sandra and I made plans to swim together at Kahalu'u.   To make the trip really worthwhile we planned to combine it with a stop at the KTA at Keahou.  As we made the turn from Kam III for the descent into the (almost deserted) shopping center we came upon a line of parked cars that snaked past the entrance to the Chevron station.  A moment's inspection revealed that these cars

A peacock flounder, Kahalu'u 2020.  Can you find the eyes?

had drivers who were in a super long line waiting for Covid testing.  For those of us who aren't sick, this was a sobering wake up call.

   Our mission at the KTA was to nab a brace of Swanson's bouillon, both beef and chicken, which were on sale for a whopping 77 cents per can.  After nabbing our broth, we took a look at the fish.  Low and behold, they had tambo, also known as bluefin tuna or albacore, on sale and we picked up a fine big chunk.  Luckily, Sandra had the forethought to bring a blue ice, which was inside the refrigerator bag given to us ever so long ago by Kim Hillis.  The Kimmy-bag would keep our tambo cool and collected while we swam.

   As per the new usual, there was hardly anyone at Kahalu'u at 11 AM on a Friday morning..  With the scarcity of patrons, we were able to secure one of a very few shaded parking spots.   Soon we were reclining in the warm water in that giant tidepool that constitutes our entry.  Out in the bay, we ran into a colorful peacock  flounder.   You can enjoy his fine blue rings and test your powers of observation by looking for his eye stalks and mouth.  This fish certainly has to be the envy of every

Our octopus imitating a chunk of coral rubble.

would be Jackson Pollock.

   A few strokes further into the bay and we found a strawberry drupe.  I tested his connection to the coral and found it firm; this was most likely the snail and not an opportunistic hermit crab and I did not pry it off for a glimpse of his golden operculum.

   Out by the Menehune Breakwater we were cruising along when a small octopus swam under me.  He quickly found refuge in a coral.  He wasted no time in coming out for a visit, first on one side of the coral and then, after I scared him a little, on the other.  Once situated on this second perch he changed colors and textures a few times, doing his best to imitate the coral to which he was attached.

    Obviously, when we see an octopus, it is rare for him to remain in a posture that one readily identifies, with eight legs visible and his big snout thrust forward.  I thought I would show you a just such a classic octopus picture purloined from the internet.  In searching for such a picture, I came upon an article on octopus farming.  The author noted that octopus farming is occurring in many countries, what with ocopi being a favored food dish in a variety of hungry cultures.  He went on to take the position that this was not a great idea.  First, octopus farming has the same negative ecological implications that fish farming presents, pollution from the food fed to the octopus and the subsequent waste they produce.  Nitrogen, phosphorous and all that crap.  Literally.

Day Octopus, Kahalu'u.  July 2020

   He then went on to complain about the inhumanity of keeping these intelligent creatures in captivity.  At the outset, I would like to say that I harbor a personal kinship with the octopus.  I recognize his intelligence and wonder about his life.  But its hard not to look at a different side of that coin.  I am not about to become a vegetarian and I have no misconception about the sad conditions in which the chickens and cattle are confined.  At the table, I say a little prayer, thanking the animal for his sacrifice.   I ought to be more reverent about my eggs and milk, as well. Clearly a cow or chicken can't open a jar, solve puzzles or play with a toy.  I'm not going to eat octopus, but I still hold the souls of those less clever animals in esteem.

    Meanwhile, back at the bay, we were heading for the exit.  Right there, in the shallows of the tidepool entry, I encountered a juvenile Racoon butterflyfish.   I still have not gotten over how many years it took before I started seeing this handsome juvenile, mostly in this single location.  I tracked him up the entryway, taking multiple pictures.  You can probably tell that the water in which I was working was quite shallow and turbulent.  Once we got the pictures into the

A handsome Raccoon Butterfly juvenile,    Kahalu'u   July 2020

computer, I found that I had perhaps my best ever shots of this remarkable juvenile.  However, there truly was a lot of debris stirred up by the turbulence.  Can you tell that I worked with the clone brush to make the picture a bit more appealing?

  In the evening we enjoyed our grilled tombo and we even saved some for tonight's picnic dinner.  Watching  the news as we ate our fish, we caught Meahlani Richardson on Hawaii News Now telling us that more quarantine breaking tourists have been caught and persecuted on the Big Island than any other, even Oahu.  With that level of enforcement, Sandra and I might actually be able to stay out of the Covid testing line.  And we hope you do as well.

jeff
 

Wendy and the Eye Spot Shrimp

   Last Friday we treated Peter and Marla to an Aloha Nui Loa brunch.  Sandra prepared poached salmon and a lovely pasta salad and Costco provided cheeses and croissants.  Now, for those of you who don't live in the land of the kanaka, aloha nui loa, means good bye, adios, see ya later and our friends are headed back to SLO, which I have learned is the accepted abbreviated handle for San Luis Obispo and environs.  They leave tomorrow, are going to stay five weeks and hope to purchase their

The Eyespot Shrimp, Kawaihae 2020  photo Hai On

next home.  In California.  Far away.  Bummer.

   Towards the end of our sumptuous meal, while Peter and I were working our way through my sweetie's pineapple upside down cake, he asked if we had seen his blog about the psychedelic shrimp.  Well, our days in the land of psychedelics are over, but we can still look at the shrimp, which in actuality is known as the eyespot shrimp.  So as it evolved, this was not a farewell banquet... the relationship would survive at least until Monday when we would reconvene at Kawaihae for a look at the psychedelic shrimp.

   So it was that yesterday, a few minutes before 9:00, Schmoopie and I arrived at the surf park at Kawaihae harbor.  As I was buttoning my shirt and heading off across the car park to greet Hai and Lottie, a lady pulled up behind our faithful Honda.  She was driving a shiny red Toyota and wore a

Peter guided us to a most prolic cauliflowerr coral

big smile.  She actually waved at me.  Not only that, but she followed me over and we greeted Hai and each other at the same time.  Her name was Wendy and my name was....well, you already know who I am.   Hai, whose excellent picture of the eyespot shrimp you see above, was already tending his garden.  He has planted zucchini, a succulent that is bursting with pretty red flowers, and

honeydew melons.  There were, nestling among all that greenery, seven or eight maturing melons, each perfectly smooth, pale green and full of promise.  They were just larger than a softball and  I commented to Hai that he would soon be the inadvertent purveyor of Midnight Melon.  If the citizenry can walk off with the pineapples growing in the planter at the Methodist Church, what hope lives for the melons in Hai's absence?  He said I could have a melon or two when they got ripe and I volunteered to bring him something in trade.  He suggested a lemon tree!  I countered with a red ginger, which I am much

  Haig's Hermit Crab stand forth for the Huskies. Kawaihae July 2020

better at propagating than lemon trees.

   About the time that this theoretical bartering reached its curious conclusion, Peter and Marla drove up.  Suddenly things started coming together. Wendy is their friend and swimming companion from Mahukona.  She had come down to Kawaihae just a couple times to swim with them and, in the natural way of things, met Hai and Lottie.  Now she had met us and we were all going shrimp watching together.   As had Marla departed for a brisk walk while the four of us, in full snorkeling regalia, headed down to the harbor.  As we walked, Peter allowed that the shrimp was far from a sure thing, which shrimp being furtive, didn't exactly surprise me, although it was disappointing.

    We swam east about one hundred yards to arrive at the single coral head where this unusual shrimp has been seen.  Peter dove down on the coral, about four feet below the surface, and looked between

A Red Spottted  Guard Crab defends his coral.  Kawaihae 2020

the leaves.  I followed his example and saw no shrimp, for a moment I was eye to eye stalk with a Haig's hermit crab.  With its purple legs, Haig's Hermit Crab stirs the  Husky Spirit that is always simmering just below the surface. and just this week we learned that the Huskies will play their PAC 12 schedule.  Curious  tidings in these unsettled days of Covid 19.  But I digress.

   Peter did not find any shrimp, which didn't seem to surprise him at all.  At this point Marla swam up and she, along with our two erstwile companions, departed.  Sandra and to remained to look some more for the shrimp and also for other crustaceans living in that large pocillipora coral.  In addition to Haig's, we found a convex crab and a red spotted guard crab living in the depths of that single coral.

When two Painted Nudibranchs bill and coo like this.. Kawaihae, Juny 2020 

   With all of crustaceans safely documented, Sandra and I headed across the harbor to the platforms.  On the way I found a large gloomy nudibranch cruising the surface of a rock about ten feet down. 
At the platforms, Schmoopie got to choose and she decided we would start our exploration on the
middle platform.  She made an excellent choice, as on the mauka side she found a pair of painted nudibranchs, presumably in the process of making the two headed mollusc.  These were good sized painteds, just under two centimeters in length.

    We had been swimming for about an hour and Sandra was thinking it was time for her to start heading in.  Everyone likes companionship when they are swimming so I talked her into joining me at the third platform.  Sandra chose the sunny mauka side and I started working from pillar to pillar on the shady ocean side.  About halfway along I peered around a pillar and was face to face with a juvenile scribbled filefish.  He was handsome guy about nine inches in length hanging vertically

The young scribbled filefish strikes and odd pose.  Kawaihae 2020

against the pillar just below the surface.  I called to Sandra and she swam around.  I didn't want to scare it away, so I waited until Sandra got there.  She took a look and then I looked.  The filefish had begun swimming across the space under the platform.  It was now about six feet away, still perfectly vertical, but now mostly a silhouette in the bright, cloudy water.   So minimal were his movements that it was impossible for me to tell what the source of the locomotion might be. Regardless, he achieved the opposite side and snuck behind one of the giant fenders that just reach the water at high tide.

   It didn't look like we were going to get a good picture, but we swam around the platform where  Sandra found the filefish hiding in a clump of debris.  He tried his best to stay out of sight, but I was

The Banded Coral Shrimp Kawaihae July 2020

able to squeeze in a few shots, most of which were not well focused.  The best of them is this odd picture of him lying flat in the water.  His ventral side is towards you and that's his eye you see protruding above the body.  An odd photo to be sure.  Soon he completely disappeared and Sandra and I headed towards the shore.

  As we completed a quick look around the first platform I heard a voice, "Oh.  Its Jeff and Sandra."
Wendy and Peter had arrived just as Sandra headed for the beach.

   We took another spin around the platform, and by diving down, Peter found a banded coral shrimp hiding on the back side of the pillar.  He did this by diving down about ten feet. At that level a larger portion of the column was placed on top of a post with a slightly smaller diameter.  This left a ridge upon which one could achieve a hand hold.  From this position underwater he was able to peer round the inside of the column and, voila, there was the shrimp.  He had to dive an extra time and point, but I finally saw the shrimp and took a couple pictures.

   Then it was Wendy's turn.  Peter probably did not use the word "beast" when describing the diving ability of this little Japanese lady with the nice smile, but he could have without a smidgen of inaccuracy.  She dove down with ease and got her photo.

   After we all had a chance with the shrimp, I led the way out to the third platform where the keiki

Peter found a  tiny decorated nudibranch on the second platform.

filefish waited.  As I arrived, I spotted the fish immediately.  He was about four feet down.  I called Wendy and she swam over and dove down for a picture.  Unfortunately, as she was getting her picture the filefish was heading for the bottom.  By the time it was my turn he was about ten feet down and sinking.  Suffice it to say my picture was not what I had hoped for.  The fish continued to the bottom and by the time Peter arrived he was not to be found.

   On the way back in we stopped at the second platform where Peter found a small gloomy and a tiny decorated nudibranch, about half a centimeter in length.   This guy was about four feet down, and it was difficult getting down to that depth in the tiny amount of space between  the encrusted pillars. 

   Before I hit the beach, I stopped at the first platform for one last try at the banded coral shrimp.  A bit of hydrobatics made for a good shot of a wonderful animal.

   For the second time in a row at the harbor I had seen three of the four common nudibranchs. 

Wendy moves in for a shot at a nudibranch.

Pairing this with four worthy crustaceans if made for a heck of a day.

   After showering off we bid Peter and Marla a bon voyage.  Between their trip and the obligatory two week quarantine on their return it will be the better part of two months until we snorkel with them again.  Hopefully in the meantime we can take another whack at that eyespot shrimp.  And with any luck at all, we might shoot for the first star to the right and head straight out to Mahukona for a dip with our new friend.   Wendy.

jeff

The second attempt at the Banded Coral Shrimp. 

Old Lady Baby

   Yesterday was Saturday, one of three days in the week when we can drop off yard debris locally, at the Kealakehe Transfer Station.  We don't miss many of those precious opportunities and so we devised a plan to go to the transfer station, following which Sandra would drop me off at the pier, much like a trash can full of leaves and branches.  She would go to Target while I swam. 

Blacktail Wrasse, juvenile, Kahalu'u July 2020

   As we approached the pier, it was apparent that this plan was not going meet with fruition.  In front of the shuttered King Kamehameha Hotel a policeman had placed a strip of danger tape across Alii Drive.  From that vantage point we could see a police SUV with its blue flashers in the turn around at the pier. Clearly this avenue of pleasure was not available.  With that in mind, we bypassed the pier and reconnected with Alii Drive at Lunapule, winding our way down to Kahalu'u.  As I drove, Sandra looked up the tides on her phone and announced that we were going to hit the low high tide, 1.2 feet, on the nose.

   Despite the fact that it was Saturday, there were few people at Kahalu'u.  With the absence of tourists and gatherings such as baby luaus not currently permitted, our jewel of a bay is virtually unused, even on a weekend.

   The water was indeed high enough that access was a breeze.  For most of my swim I didn't see anything unusual.  I did have some close approaches to a large male ember parrotfish.  One rarely gets within four feet of this handsome fish.  There is a very good reason for this.  As this big uhu is seen with regularity on the menu, it behooves him to be wary.  Are there fewer spear fisherman at Kahalu'u these days?  For whatever reason, this big fellow swam quite close to me on several occasions.  What a

Old Lady Wrasse, Kahalu'u 2020

treat!

    Towards the end of my swim, over by the Rescue Shelter, I hit pay dirt.  Every time out, as I swim around the coral in the middle, I am looking for the tiny green wrasse that is the juvenile of the Old Lady wrasse.  The terminal male of this species is very rare at snorkeling depths.  I have seen the intermediate form, a handsome medium sized wrasse with a black tail on several occasions, but not in the last three years.  It is probably this most commonly seen stage of the species that gives it its other common name, the blacktail wrasse.  On this day I saw a somewhat larger version of the juvenile.  This guy was about four inches long, so not tiny.  He was swimming rapidly among the rocks on that mauka side of the bay.  Although he was quick, he was out most of the time, allowing me to take many pictures over the course of five or ten minutes.  This one definitely makes it onto the list of seldom seen species.

   Yesterday evening, as we were watching the Honolulu news, it was announced that a sewer pipe had broken in downtown Kailua Kona and a huge amount of sewage was washed into Kailua Bay.  And that, my friends, is why we take a shower after we go snorkeling! 

jeff

The big uhu with his friend.  Unmolested.

The Revenge of the Church Lady or The Dolphins of Ho'okena

   Late last week we were visited by the church lady.  Not the character acted to universal acclaim by Dana Carvey, but a lady from the Lutheran Church.  Jessica had visited us twice before.  As kupunas in the age of Covid-19, we might be lacking for companionship, or possibly adequate nutrition.  On

Everyone needs a visit from the church lady.  Especially if she brings bananas.

previous visits she had brought bananas, papayas and avocados and also a few truly peculiar quasi-edibles:  Dill that tasted like grass, Hawaiian spinach and a large off white tuber that one could slice into his salad.  It had the crunchy consistency of a radish but no discernible flavor.  This time she brought us two large donuts.

   Jessica is actually a really neat lady.  She is a grade school administrator, sings like an angel and is a sought after French horn virtuoso.  If you search for the Holy Trinity Lutheran Church of Kona web site, you can hear (and see) Jessica sing.  She is really good and it might help you get to sleep in these troubled times. 

A pair of spinners head to the surface.

    "Isn't that special?" you ask rhetorically, "But what does it have to do with fishwatching?"  Well, on her last visit to Casa Ono Jessica was admitted to the museum that doubles as our guest bathroom and admired, most especially, the moorish idol.  Having her preference in hand, I created an idol for her (She being a good Christian I was confident that she would not start worshiping it.) and we gift
wrapped the sculpture in a Kirkland brie cheese container.  Thus, as she sat at the other end of the long table on our lanai sipping her ice tea, the conversation turned to snorkeling.  She volunteered that she had begun stand up paddle boarding in the Inner Harbour at the pier and on her last outing had paddled with dolphins.  She was so close that her husband, sitting at the end of the pier, had taken a video of Jessica and and the dolphins, which she showed us on her phone.

   Well, it had been a darn long time since I had swum with dolphins and that little video got me Jonesing for a trip to one of the sites south where this was possible.  Hence, yesterday morning,

A black and white portrait of the same pair of spinners.

bright and early, the Redoubtable SKG and I headed south to Ho'okena.

   It was a bright sunny morning in Kailua but by the time we made it to Honaunau it was a high overcast.  It was early, about 8:30, and the parking lot had only a few cars.  During tourist season, which is scheduled to begin in three weeks,  the lot would be full at that hour.  

   Figuring that we could reduce our covid exposure by using our own chairs instead of the picnic table, we set up right behind the knee high sea wall in the picnic area.  Looking out into the bay, I was just able to make out a dolphin or two roughly 150 yards away. As I watched, a single swimmer set out from the far end of the beach. In pre-virus days, even at this early hour, it would have looked like the start of the Ironman, with multiple bodies hitting the water and swimming furiously towards the dolphins.

The Redoubtable SKG is in hot pursuit. 

   After donning our snorkeling outfits, schmoopie and I were soon at the far end of the beach where the water was cool and only tiny waves ran up onto the sand.   We swam out for five minutes, looking occasionally at a pair of swimmers who we assumed were communing with the dolphins.  We didn't
actually see any dolphins, though, and as we got close the swimmers headed back in.  I was swimming as they passed but they said good morning to Sandra. 

   So there we were, all by ourselves and a fair distance off shore.  We waited for several minutes, riding the gentle swell and wondering aloud if the dolphins had left.  Suddenly, a young dolphin leaped about fifteen yards further out.  So off we went, next stop Japan.  After a dozen strokes I surfaced and Sandra yelled "Left!"  There I saw three dolphins on the

This is my pod, buster.  Spinner dolphins, Ho'okena,  July 2020

surface only five yards away.

   The next ten minutes were pure joy.  The dolphins came to us surfacing close by several times.  In all the pod had just under twenty individuals.  It was broken up most of the time and the group that was swimming near us contained twelve.  The animals looked healthy with no active cookie cutter shark lesions.  Knowing what to look for, it was easy to see where such lesions had healed.  We saw only one juvenile.  Late in our visit we were approached by a slightly larger dolphin who had a lighter cast.  He gave me good, hard look. 

   The virus has mostly caused misery, but here on the Big Island it has provided moments like these.  Under normal circumstances it would be unimaginable for us to swim with the dolphins all by ourselves.  As above, our peace and personal safety are scheduled to come to an end on the first of August.

Potter's Angelfish, Ho'okena, July 2020

   The rest of our swim was really nice.  We saw only usual suspects, but that included a big bad bridled triggerfish, gilded triggerfish and Potter's and Flame Angelfish.  Ho'okena brings usual suspects to a higher level.

   As we came ashore we enjoyed a six year old boy playing in the sand under the watchful eye of his young parents.  A great end to our wonderful visit to Ho'okena.

The Birth of the Black Swallowtail

    A fortnight past we left you with a life in transition.  Lin Batkins had adopted the caterpillar of what we assumed was an Eastern Black Swallowtail Butterfly.  She had placed the caterpillar in a safe spot in the shade and fed it more dill from her garden as needed.  As we left her, she had watched the caterpillar form a chrysalis and was waiting, perhaps a bit impatiently, for a butterfly to emerge.

The newly emerged Eastern Black Swallowtail

According to the books, this might take about ten days.

   In the meantime, I had whipped up a paper mache model of what we presumed would be an emerging EBS and placed it in the hands of the postal service.  As promised, it arrived in New Hampshire about a week ago.  As I'm sure you will recall, many butterflies are migratory.  This is especially true of butterflies, like the monarch, which spend their summers in temperate regions.  The monarch migrates south form as far north as Canada to southern Mexico.  Very few butterflies migrate from west to east and virtually none migrate over thousands of miles of open water.  It is roughly 300 miles from Barcelona to Algiers.  The European Painted Lady can manage such an over water journey.  It is 2,500 miles from KOA, and it is only through the miracle of nature that sometime millions of years ago a similar Vanessa butterfly made the journey.  Suffice it say, a paper mache butterfly, no matter how air worthy, would not have stood a chance.  So kudos to our friends at the USPS.

   The better scientists will tell you that the Eastern Black Swallowtail (and Tiger Swallowtail) over winter as a chrysalis, even in snowy New Hampshire.  Hence, they do not migrate like the monarch. 

    During the past two weeks we can assume that the caterpillar, safely ensconced in its chrysalis,

The butterfly begins to unfurl

produced enzymes that almost completely dissolved itself.  The butterfly soup that remained, a rich broth to be sure, contained imaginary discs that would provide the template upon which the metamorphosis from caterpillar to butterfly would be manifest.  

    Two days ago the word spread across the world wide web: a butterfly had been born to us and it was a girl.  Lin is a school teacher and, as it turns our, somewhat of a diarist.  She kept careful notes pertaining to the blessed event.  Given her skill as a writer, it seems that her words should be the ones to tell the story.

• Day 10 passed and I was disappointed.  However I thought the chrysalis was getting darker and the eyespots larger.  I knew I had an umbrella type screen food protector somewhere, but couldn't find it.  Don found it among picnic tablecloths.  It had a broken rib and wouldn't stay open.  The Dr. soldered it.
  
• July 2.  Moved the chrysalis to a tray with mesh tent overhead.  Placed it so it would get sunlight, but not bake.
• Hoping for 4th July birth.  Sigh.  I thought the chrysalis would turn very dark and translucent.

  

  The Eastern Black Swallowtail eschews the proffered dill.

    Didn't happen.
  
• July 5 - no change when I checked at about 8 a.m. At about 9 Don calls me to come look.  Our baby had broken out of the chrysalis and was crawling up the screen of its tent.  We missed the emergence!
  
• spends about an hour unfurling
• flaps and stretches - probiscus unfurls and curls back up.  Now (by the blue markings on the top of her wings) we can see that we have a girl.  She is so beautiful and fresh looking.  Love at first sight.
• I put some dill, a hydrangea flower, and a piece of paper towel soaked in honey water at the bottom of the tent.  She doesn't care.
• All morning we watch her, like new parents watching their baby do nothing.  Tilt the screen back and get some pictures.  She does not leave .
• At about noon she starts flapping strongly.  We take her out and release her near the dill, in hopes that she will imprint on it and return to lay her eggs.
• Not interested in dill! 
  
• She takes off for the apple tree, where she sits quietly for about an hour.  Don and I watch and

  

  The EBS, unfurled in resting position

  are ready to shoo the birds away.  It gets breezy and she flies away.  Good bye.  I hope she finds a mate.  

   In the upcoming film,  Lin is played by Diane Keaton and Don is portrayed by William Barr.  The butterfly plays herself and does all her own stunts.

     I wondered how Lin knew so quickly that this was a female butterfly.  Many, if not most, butterflies display sexual dimorphism.  However, the extent of the difference between sexes can be pretty subtle.  In the case of the monarch, the most common big beautiful butterfly in these Very Sandwich Islands, the difference lies in a widening on one of the myriad veins that spread web-like over the wings.  I am including a photo from Pinterest in which a clever lepidopterist has both a male and female Eastern Black Swallowtail perched simultaneously on his hand.  In the spirit of a picture being worth a thousand words, I will leave it up to you to appreciate how sexy Lin's girl looked.  One might also consider how far off I would have been if I had chosen a male butterfly as my model. 

   Now, you may have noted that I was surprised that she knew it was a girl butterfly.  I have no first hand experience with this species and my second hand experience was mostly limited to looking at pictures on Google images. Most of those do not dwell on this remarkable dimorphism.  Obviously 

Eastern Black Swallowtail, female top, male bottom.  Pinterest

the female is far prettier than the n the male and it is this, along with a healthy measure of sheer  good luck that led me to create,  for the Familia Batkins,  a female EBS.  Obviously the real butterfly is infinitely prettier than my humble creation, which you see here, mounted by Cousin Don among the dill. 

   Lin thought the sculpture might serve as a decoy, bringing more butterflies flocking into her dill.  Next on my list is to devise a butterfly-call which Don can blow for a few hours each day.  Some day the Batkins might wake up to find Elmer Fudd in their garden, shotgun in hand,  muttering about the  waskly buttahfwies.

    So all you amateur biologists out there keep your eyes open.  Perhaps you will find a caterpillar and, if you can keep the early bird at bay, it's possible that Diane Keaton will play you in an upcoming film.  Or maybe William Barr.

 jeff

The author's model butterfly mounted among the dill.

   With the exception of the Pinterest photo, all pictures in this blog were taken by Don and Lin Batkins.  Some of the images were resized and enhanced by the author.

A Return to Action

Editor's note.  Expert opinion suggests that the turtle seen and described in this blog is a hawksbill turtle.  This just goes to show: a) what a dilettante I am. and b) How difficult it is to tell these turtles apart.  I hope you enjoy the diatribe, this disclaimer may make it even more amusing.

Last week your humble correspondent was rendered hors de combat by his dermatologist.  While excising a dime size basal cell from the back of my right knee, we discussed the chemotherapy that she was recommending I apply to my scalp.  Somehow I didn't realize that the recovery period from that ointment might be considerably longer than healing my excision.  And that premature exposure

A Red Labrid Wrasse is always a pretty sight.  Kahalu'u  July 2020

to the sun could result in a ferocious burn.  Perhaps I didn't pay careful attention.

    I still have a bit of an unsightly rash on my bald pate and forehead, but affairs of state must take precedent over affairs of state and so, figuring that the early morning sun is less harmful than that at noon (mad dogs, Englishmen and all that crap)  I went snorkeling this week on consecutive mornings.

   Wednesday I hit the water at Kahalu'u just after 7:30.  The water was clear, pleasantly cool and depressingly devoid of interesting fish and critters.  I saw one red labrid wrasse which, if not terribly unusual, is quite attractive and, as this fellow was cooperative, you get a gander at his candy-striped portrait.

The Green Sea Turtle  Kahalu'u July 2020

   The only other thing of interest, besides the thriving coral, was a small green sea turtle.  three ladies of a certain age were doing a recreational swim.  Just after they passed in front of me, one expostulated,"Irene!  Look at the turtle!"  A few minutes later, the turtle swam right up to me.  From a certain perspective, such a turtle may be the most dangerous animal in the bay.  The turtle is unlikely to eat you like a tiger shark, but if the turtle, of its own volition, swims withing ten feet of you, someone is bound to get their fanny in a frizzle. 

     I may write another turtle blog in the near future, dealing with respiratory physiology.  That is a timely topic, given the pulmonary implications of the pandemic.   For now, I would like to say a word about nomenclature and the respective beaks of the green and hawksbill turtles.  It is my contention that the person who named the hawksbill turtle must never have seen a hawk. The green sea turtle has a bill like a hawk and the so called hawksbill turtle has a bill like a woodpecker.  Or possibly a pair of kitchen scissors.   If you are planning on being a law flaunting, snorkeling tourist here in the month of August, this pearl may come in handy.

A school of black durgons fight over a small jack.

   Thursday I went swimming at the pier.  There was a ton of recreational swimmers and the cubby for storing gear was full to the brim.  Out in the water, at about 8:30 on this lovely morning, the action was furious.  There are no submarine rides or parasailing currently, so it was far safer on the outer side of the swim buoys.  Those recreational swimmers can be as terrifying as sea turtles.

   Peacefully swimming on the outside, I dove down to look at a coral and saw a number of tiny red pencil urchins growing in a fenestrated chunk of dead coral.  I had never seen such tiny red pencil urchins before.  Some would have fit inside a dime!  Sadly, the picture I took of these didn't turn out and I was unable to find that particular dead coral again.  Suffice it to say, there are a large number of dead corals to choose from.

Another durgon takes a bite of his prize.  Kailua Pier July 2020

   I had a nice swim without seeing too much.  As I was heading for home, looking for that coral with the tiny urchins, I became aware of some furious activity.  A small school of black durgons had got hold of a bait fish, perhaps a big eye scad, and, like a pack of dogs, were taking turns ripping the fish from the mouth of the current owner, presumably getting a bite of fish and then losing it to a pursuer.  I took pictures and came up with two where you can see this unusual behavior.

   John Hoover says that triggrfish are omnivorous, eating algae, plankton and small crustaceans.  He says nothing about durgons eating whole fish.  In previous blogs, when commenting on the bait ball, an enormous school of big eye scad that is frequently found near the pier, I have noted that a group of black durgons has been nearby.  I had thought that they might be herding the bait ball away frpm nests, but really I had no idea.  After this observation it seems likely that they were hoping to pick up a vulnerable scad, perhaps one that had been injured by a charging ulua.

Coming soon from Disney!   Dancing With Durgons

    Depending on who they can get to play the lead, Disney Studios is planning a major motion picture based on this newly discovered bit of  biology.  It will either be Never Cry Triggerfish  or Dancing With Durgons.

   At the end of my swim, just inside the first swim buoy, I entered a dark greenish cloud.  We have heard
of an algae bloom occurring near the pier.  On shore I heard a knowledgeable lady remark that the algae bloom is occurring all along the coast in the presence of fresh water.   With all the rain we have been getting, there must be a surfeit of fresh water springs.

   Saint that she is, Sandra arrived promptly with the car, assuring that my hideous scalp got as little direct sunlight as possible.  With any luck I'll be good as new in no time.

jeff