Sunday morning we skipped church. We did so because we have come to the conclusion that it isn't safe in these days of the Corona virus epidemic. The service is held inside and we can't vouch for the efficacy of the filtration system associated with the AC.
Instead of church we decided to go swimming. That morning there was a super low tide which precluded entering at Kahalu'u. And so we headed north to Kawaihae with the intention of looking for
the psychedelic shrimp. We got to the harbor about 9:15 and motored around to the small boat moorage where there are shiny new restrooms for changing. We were impressed with the number of people who were using their boats; usually the moorage is a ghost town, but several families were in the area getting ready to set to sea.
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| When it comes to pandemic response the Illini are not so different from the Hawaiians. |
Dressed for a swim, we drove back around to the harbor....where we were shocked. Along the harbor front for perhaps 100 yards there was a continuous collection of large pick ups and portable cabanas. Lawn chairs, barbecues smoking, people fishing and drinking their beverage of choice. Out on the water there was a veritable armada of floating devices: kayaks and windsurfers, but mostly colorful inner tubes and mattresses bearing children old and young. There was a mob on top of the second platform, which was surrounded by a flotilla of floating revelers. One can assume that beneath the platform the nudibranchs were cowering in terror.
Sandra quickly deduced that if we thought church posed an unacceptable risk, this collection of humanity was way out of the question. In any event, snorkeling alon
g the congested shoreline and around the platforms would have been impossible.
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| The juvenile Raccoon Butterflyfish. Kahalu'u august 2020 |
On our way back south we nosed in to Beach 69 to find the parking lot full. Clearly the citizenry north of Kona was out in force on Sunday morning. I suppose this could have been because collectively they had decided that church was an unacceptable risk, but I doubt it.
That night the evening news featured the White Trash River Bash which is an annual event on the Illinois River near Peoria. Major Garrett encouraged us to be shocked that these 500 or so obese and inebriated Illini with their boats and inner tubes would congregate thusly, Trump banners floating in the breeze, during the height of the pandemic. He had a point, of course, but given what we had witnessed at Kawaihae, it was mighty difficult to generate a full head of indignation. Could it be that,regardless of our political persuasions, we are a nation united in our hedonism, unwilling to forego social gatherings regardless of the medical consequences?
Later that day I made it down to Kahalu'u where the tide was now high and there were just a few beach goers and even fewer swimmers. I snorkeled for almost an hour in
the cloudy water. It was a good day for Christmas wrasses, which were too fast for me to capture with the camera, and juvenile fourspot butterflyfish. Only at the end of my time in the water did I see something noteworthy. A small, green dragon wrasse was swimming around a rock near the entrance. He didn't stay out for long, hiding under a boulder before I could get his picture.
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| Rocky and Spotty head off to school. |
Right by the exit, but still outside in the bay, I spotted a small juvenile raccoon butterfly. I may get over my enthusiasm for this fish fairly soon, but for now I am still a fan. Finally I had a fish that would stay close and out of cover, so you are blessed with a pretty good picture of this amusing juvenile with his well demarcated occulus. Additionally, I got a picture of Rocky swimming with a fourspot of about the same age. Undoubtedly they were on the way to Mrs. Flounder's Little Red Fish House.
jeff
For those of you who are acquainted with Casa Ono, last week witnessed a passing. The Japanese fellow, who now owns Lonnie's house across the street, had the giant monkeypod tree removed. Lonnie always kept the tree groomed. We enjoyed that big fella immensely. It took three noisy days for the
tree cutting company to cut it down, chip the branches and haul away large portions of the stump on flatbed trucks. One of the arborists advised Sandra that they would have to store those trunks until the pandemic was under control. In any event, my sweetie took several pictures of the giant as it was coming down. She sent a couple of these photos to her creative cousin in New Hampshire. Don sent back the fanciful creation you see here. Sandra sent this along to Peter Krotje who, along with Marla, is in California for a month. She asked Peter what sort of tree he thought it was. His reply: "My family tree!"
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| Peter's Family Tree.. Photo by Don Batkins |
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Aye tear her tattered branches down
Long has they waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
Her leave up in the sky;
Long has they waved on high,
And many an eye has danced to see
Her leave up in the sky;
Oliver Wendell Homes, loosely
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